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dark-haired woman nodded her head with understanding, he glanced back at Monique. She was desperately clutching her wine with both hands.
    He contemplated her apprehensive eyes. “Why are you looking so terrified all of a sudden? Are you afraid of me?”
    “No, not of you.” She avoided his gaze. “I’m afraid of what you are thinking.”
    “ And what am I thinking?”
    “I’m not going to sleep with you, if that’s what this dinner is about.” Monique guzzled more wine.
    A ribbon of desire snaked its way through Tyler’s body. “This is just dinner between two old friends. I have no expectations.”
    She whacked the empty glass down on the table. “Now who’s lying?”
    He raised his drink to his lips, but said nothing. He could feel it in his bones when a woman wanted him, and suddenly his insides were humming with excitement. But as he ran through a flurry of detailed sexual images of Monique, Tyler questioned if the actual act would live up to all of his expectations. Never before had he waited so long for a woman, and instead of adding to his desire, the idea of finally attaining what he had hoped for worried him. Would the reality of their sleeping together live up to the twenty plus years they had spent dreaming of the moment? Tyler had a sneaking suspicion that he was about to find out.

    Chapter 6
     
    It was well after eleven when Tyler helped a tipsy Monique out of the back of the black Town Car and into the hotel lobby.
    “You shouldn’t have let me drink so much,” she admonished.
    He put his arm about her shoulders. “You were the one who kept drinking the wine.”
    “Only because you kept ordering it for me. Honestly, Ty, I’m not one of your bimbos.”
    “I don’t go out with bimbos, Moe. Many of the women I end up with are smart, classy, polished , and—”
    “Easy ,” she piped in.
    He laughed as the teak and gold doors of the main elevators loomed before them. “After forty a woman is not easy, she’s interested. You’re only easy in high school.”
    “Forty?” She chuckled against him. “I thought you liked them a lot younger than that.”
    Wh ile pressing the elevator call button, he slipped his hand about her waist to help hold her up. “I gave up dating anyone under forty a few years back. The conversations were too painful. The younger one’s just kept reminding me how old I was getting.”
    “You’ll never be old. You’re still that twenty-nine-year-old guy who was way too good-looking for me.”
    “Too good-looking? You’re joking?”
    “I always thought you were never interested in me because I wasn’t a model, or cheerleader, or any one of those ultra-gorgeous girls.”
    “Why on earth did you think that?” He dipped his head to her ear and whispered, “You were the most beautiful woman I ever knew. Still are.”
    She let go a loud disapproving snort. “Yeah, right.”
    He removed his arm from about her waist and cupped her face in his hands. “I mean it, Moe. To me, you are a very beautiful woman.”
    “Well, there you are,” a deep voice called.
    When Tyler turned, a casually dressed Chris Donovan emerged from an open elevator. Tyler let go of Monique and stood back from her. The sudden loss of his support made her wobble slightly on her feet. 
    Chris rushed to Monique’s side. “Where have you been?”
    Tyler bristled as Chris place d his arm about Monique’s waist to steady her.
    “We just came from dinner.” Monique straightened up and pushed Chris away.
    “How many chardonnays did you have with dinner?” Chris put his arm back about her waist and ushered her toward the waiting elevator.
    Monique pushed him away once more. “I’m fine.” She swayed slightly on her feet.
    “You’re drunk,” he chided.
    Tyler edged to her side. “I was going to see her back to her room.”
    Chris Donovan’s angry blue eyes burned into Tyler. “I’ll see her to her room. I think you’ve done enough for one evening.”
    Monique inched toward the