Free Along for the Ride by Ruby Laska Page B

most women bought his lines, despite the wedding ring he wore. “I don’t know. The way you move. Your hair. Or something. Come on, Lauren, what do you say, we can have a good time together.”
    “You’re married .” Lauren injected as much ice as she could into her voice.
    Jack Morgan actually had the gall to laugh. “Yeah. Look, I’m not proposing here, see? Let’s just have a little fun.”
    Lauren’s eyes narrowed in contempt. It was what she had wanted, back when her affair with Rafi had begun. A little fun, a band-aid for her broken heart. But coming from Jack, the notion repulsed her.
    And Lauren realized something.
    It had never been about a quick joy ride. Not for her. From the moment Rafi had taken her hand in his the first time, she had been falling for him, falling in love with him, and there was no way out. No other man would erase the mark Rafi had left on her; no casual liaisons would ease her hunger for him even for a moment.
    “Get out, Jack,” Lauren muttered.
    Surprise crossed his face, but he held up his hands in mock defense. “Hey. Whatever. Sorry I read you wrong.” He backed out of the office, then turned and disappeared down the hallway.
    As Lauren watched him go, her anger lifted. She wouldn’t waste the emotion on a man like Morgan.
    She was going to need all her energy to figure out how to get Rafi back.
    #
    He picked up on the second ring.
    “Rafi.” Her voice trembled. “It’s me. Lauren.”
    There was a pause, and then he spoke her name. “Hello, Lauren.” He didn’t seem surprised. Wary, perhaps. But at least he didn’t hang up.
    First hurdle.
    “I…would like to meet for a drink. Would that be possible? To talk,” she added. There was silence. She could barely make out the sound of his breathing, steady, even.
    “Do you think we have something to talk about?” His tone was not unkind.
    “Please.” It was all she had; she willed him to hear in her request how badly she needed him to say yes.
    “All right.”
    #
    Lauren had lied. It was not a talk that she planned. It was a seduction. She was taking a chance, she knew, that Rafi would reject her, that he might even be angry that she’d manipulated him into meeting her.
    But somehow Lauren knew that she could best convey what was in her heart by showing him, rather than by putting it into words. After all, why should he believe that she had changed, unless she offered him irrefutable proof? How could she explain that no other man could provide her the love that she needed as plants need sun? How would he know she was ready to move from being his lover to being his partner, his equal?
    “Forgive me,” she murmured, as she dialed the Tate Monroe.
    #
    It was hot.
    Over the weeks, spring had vanished, giving way to the long humid days of summer. Heat rose off the sizzling sidewalks in dizzying waves; workers on their lunch hour flocked to the lake for the breezes that sometimes blew inland. Even now, with evening on its way, the people leaving the office buildings tugged at collars, fanned at themselves with their hands.
    Rafi didn’t mind the heat as he approached the address he’d memorized. He’d chosen with care: a linen shirt, Italian sandals. It had been difficult, because he wasn’t certain what effect he was attempting to create.
    He’d agreed to meet her. How could he refuse? Her voice, in his thoughts each day since he last talked to her, was like balm to the wounds he still carried. Seeing her might leave them more jagged than before, but he didn’t care.
    “Fool,” he muttered beneath his breath, and pushed open the door.
    It was a cozy little place, a diner with specials chalked along a board that ran the length of the counter, but it took only a moment for Rafi to see that it was completely empty except for the bored-looking woman who dabbed at the counter with a white cloth.
    “Are you Rafi?” she asked without preamble. “This is for you.”
    She handed him a cinnamon-colored envelope. Rafi