An Engagement in Seattle - Debbie Macomber [88]
By the time they arrived back at the Seattle waterfront, the sun had set. Chase held her hand as they took the walkway down to street level, his mind in turmoil. He should never have asked Lesley to let go of the man she loved. It had been a mistake to pressure her, one he had no intention of repeating.
“Where are we going?” she asked as he led her down the pier. The crowds remained thick, the traffic along the sidewalk heavy even at this time of night. The scents of fried fish and the sea mingled.
“Down there,” he said, pointing to a length of deserted pier.
It was a testament to her trust that she didn’t seem at all nervous. “There’s nothing down there.”
“I know. I’m going to kiss you, Lesley, and I prefer to do it without half of Seattle watching me.”
“Aren’t you taking a lot for granted?” she asked, more amused than offended.
“Perhaps.” But that didn’t stop him.
Not giving her the opportunity to argue, he brought her with him and paused only when he was assured of their privacy. Without another word, he turned her toward him. He took her hands and guided her arms upward and around his neck. He felt a moment of hesitation, but it was quickly gone.
He circled her waist with his arms and pulled her to him. At the feel of her body next to his, Chase sighed, marveling when Lesley did, too. Hers was a little sigh. One that said she wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing.
He smelled her faint flowery scent. It was a sensual moment, their bodies pressed against each other. It was a spiritual moment, as well, as though they were two lost souls reaching toward each other.
For long minutes, they simply held each other. Chase had never been with a woman like this. It wasn’t desire that prompted him to take her into his arms, but something far stronger. Something he couldn’t put words to or identify on a conscious level.
He longed to protect Lesley, shield her from more pain, and at the same time he was looking to her to end his loneliness.
Chase waged a debate on what to do next—kiss her as he’d claimed he would or hold her against him, comfort her and then release her.
He couldn’t not kiss her. Not when she felt so good in his arms.
Slowly he lowered his head, giving her ample opportunity to turn away from him. His heart felt as if it would burst wide open when she closed her eyes and brought her mouth to his.
Chase wanted this kiss, wanted it more intensely than he could remember wanting anything. That scared him and he brushed his lips briefly over hers. It was a light kiss, the kind of kiss a woman gives a man when she’s teasing him. The kind a man gives a woman when he’s trying to avoid kissing her.
Or when he’s afraid he wants her too much.
He should’ve known it wouldn’t be enough to satisfy either of them. Lesley blinked uncertainly and he tried again, this time nibbling at her slightly parted lips.
This wasn’t enough, either. If anything, it created a need for more. Much more.
The third time he kissed her, he opened his mouth and as the kiss deepened, Chase realized he’d made another mistake. The hollow feeling in his stomach returned—the feeling that fate was about to knock him for a loop.
Sensation after sensation rippled through him and his sigh was replaced with a groan. Not a groan of need or desire, but of awakening. He felt both excited and terrified. Strangely certain and yet confused.
Lesley groaned, too, and tightened her hold on him. She’d felt it, too. She must have.
His hands bracketed her face as he lifted his head. This wasn’t what he expected or wanted. He’d feared this would happen, that he’d be hungry for her, so hungry it demanded every ounce of strength he possessed not to kiss her again.
They drew apart as if they were both aware they’d reached the limit, that continuing meant they’d go further than either of them was prepared to deal with just then. Their bottom lips clung and they pressed their foreheads together.
“I…” He couldn’t think of any words that adequately conveyed his feelings.
Lesley closed her eyes and he eased his lips closer to hers.