Dante expected her to say more after such a strange reaction. “And what brings you here?” he asked when she remained quiet.
Her eyes widened the slightest bit before she stated, “Toshia planned this event, and I wanted to support her. Didn’t she do a brilliant job?” Lanelle held up a hand to the side of her mouth and stage-whispered, “I happen to know she did it under budget. So if you’re looking for an event planner, you might want to give Toshia a try.”
Those words had to be the most she’d said to him at one time. The woman was too couth to babble. And yet she had. Maybe he’d misjudged her. Or she’s hiding something.
The drink in Lanelle’s hand disappeared as she drained it. When ice cubes remained, she sucked one in and chewed.
He clenched his teeth together as the sound grated in his ears. He must’ve winced because she stopped and covered her mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to annoy you.”
“How could you have known listening to someone chew ice is worse than nails on a chalkboard for me?”
“Do they make those anymore?”
“I’m not sure. All I remember is my classmates using it as a form of torture when they went to the board.”
“Did you ever have to clap the erasers?”
He chuckled at the memories that dredged up. “It was my favorite job. I loved creating a cloud of chalk dust. Plus, it got me out of the classroom.”
She scrunched her nose. “I hated it. The teacher would make me do it as a punishment.”
“For what? You don’t seem like the kind of person who’d get into any sort of trouble.”
“You’d be surprised.”
Their gazes held. I’m sure I would be. He couldn’t let her slip away again. Vanessa wouldn’t be the only one who got the chance to enjoy her company. “About our date. Are you free tomorrow?”
A flicker of her eyes to the right and upward told him she was about to lie. He hated liars. Before she could speak, he reminded her, “Destiny has brought us together. You owe me a date. You said it yourself in the parking lot.”
“Tomorrow is Sunday.”
“And? We could do something fun.”
Lanelle lifted her glass, and just as she opened her mouth to take a piece of ice, she stopped and placed it on the bar, pushing it away. With less enthusiasm than he would’ve liked, she asked, “What time?”
“Will you be going to church tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“What time does the service end?”
“Ten.”
Dante chuckled. “No all-day worship for you?”
Lanelle smiled. “I’m good with a couple of hours.”
“Me, too. How about if I pick you up at eleven? We could go to brunch.”
Her dramatic sigh made him think she’d rather dip her toe in a pond filled with crocodiles than go out with him. “How about we meet somewhere? At the restaurant would be good.”
“Ever been to Peaches ’n’ Cream?”
“Yes.” She hopped off the bar stool. “See you there tomorrow at eleven.” Backing up a step, she hitched a thumb over her shoulder. “I promised I’d take care of some things for Toshia so she could leave early with her husband.”
“Are you an event planner, too?”
“With my anal-retentive organizational skills, I could be, but no.”
“What do you do?”
The step she was about to take faltered, and Dante reached out to steady her. He couldn’t help himself from bending his head toward her when her gaze dropped to his lips. Enticed by the heat from her silky skin, he caressed her arm. Clasping a hand at the back of her neck, he went for what he’d been dreaming about since he’d first met her.
Before he could reach his goal, he yelped in pain. Without drawing attention to them, Lanelle held his pinkie in some kind of death grip.
He hissed in a breath when she made the tiniest move to the left. “That hurts.”
Her lips curled up in a vicious smile. “I know. Do you remember what I told you when we first met?”
No thought other than getting his finger out of her mean grip came to mind. “Refresh my memory,” he gritted out. To the crowd, they must have looked like a normal couple, touching in an almost intimate way. The control she had over him with just his pinkie in her possession humbled more than embarrassed him. “Can you please let go, first?”
She did as he asked. He massaged his poor finger behind his back. As the pain diminished, the memory surfaced. “You said you could take me down.”
“Yes. And you didn’t believe it. I’d appreciate if you didn’t touch me again.” She angled her head in a silent warning.
Her reaction had been extreme. She could’ve told him no and he would’ve backed off. What had happened in her life to make her use violence as a first resort? Or was she one of those women who’d rather fight than communicate?
He could explain he’d touched her only to ensure her safety. But it would be a lie. It may have started that way, but it had transitioned into more. He’d been about to kiss her.
Even now, knowing she could land him on the floor without breaking a sweat, he wanted to swipe a lock of hair off her forehead, and her lips still beckoned. Would they be as soft as her cheek had been against his while they’d danced? Softer, his brain teased.
How could he keep the promise he was about to make? “As you wish.”
A curt nod and she left. If only she’d take the throbbing in his pinkie and the need to hold her again with her.
* * *
Would her legs support her? Still shaken from the encounter with the sexiest man on the planet, Lanelle barely made it to the auction table. She placed her hands against it to help support her weight. Her knees seemed to have changed consistency.
What got into me? She shook her head, attempting to figure out if she was more upset about almost kissing Dante or preventing it from happening. Causing him pain had been her instinctive reaction to stop her from making a colossal mistake. She didn’t need a man. Especially one who seemed to move through life on so much testosterone it formed a cloud around him.
She had no excuse for attacking him, other than pure terror at wanting his kiss so much. She’d panicked and she hated that she’d been driven to it.
Her little self-defense move should’ve made him cancel their date. Who wanted to go out with an unpredictable woman who spouted off about destiny? Obviously Dante did. Maybe she should reassess him.
If she were to date again, it would be with someone predictable. Someone she could depend on to support her, even when life became so demanding they’d wonder if they’d make it through. Yet they’d buoy each other, knowing they’d survive any problem attempting to plow them over.
No such man existed. She preferred the thought of being alone for the rest of her life over getting her heart broken again. Especially when she wouldn’t give him children.
A hand at the small of her back preceded a deep voice asking, “Are you okay?”
She jumped and turned with her arms in a defensive position. She relaxed when Miguel came into view. She had to calm down; otherwise, she’d put someone in the hospital.
Miguel held both hands up. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Lanelle