Free Dancing in the Dark by Linda Cajio Page B

said politely.
    “That mad, eh?”
    “That mad.”
    “I did have to stay on,” he said. “To drum up more business for Wayans. I’m sorry I didn’t realize the advantage of doing so before the presentation. Now, you’re not going to yell at me for that.” He paused. “Are you?”
    She smiled a tiny tolerant smile. “No. I think it’s wonderful that you’re so conscientious. Wayans is lucky to have you.”
    “Thanks. How long do I have to wear the hair shirt you’ve got me in?”
    “Forever. It fits right in with your Hairy John.”
    “That’s Iron John.”
    “The fairy tale about men. Yes, I remember.”
    Jake frowned. Something in the way she said that bothered him. Still, she would be skeptical. Shewas a woman and had never experienced a man’s frustrations. That was only fair. Men had trouble with women’s frustrations. Like now. He decided to change the subject altogether. “Your parents don’t appreciate you, do they?”
    She rounded on him, shocked. “Yes, they do. Why would you say that?”
    He shrugged. “Because they looked so bewildered when I told them about your presentation and the project you’re handling. Our world’s like an alien world to them, isn’t it?”
    “I suppose,” she said thoughtfully. “Academia does tend to isolate my father, and my mother spends her days three centuries in the past. They don’t view the world as most do. On the other hand, I don’t view things that are important to them in quite the same way. It’s a mutual ‘I just don’t get it.’ But that’s okay. They’re happy in what they do and I’m happy in what I do. They did know the success of the presentation was important to me.”
    “It’s important to me too,” he said, “and no one understands it better.”
    “Thank you.” Her voice was low, innocently seductive.
    He gazed at her, proud of what she’d accomplished that day. Dave didn’t know the gem he had in her. Something had to be done about that. He liked the way she understood her parents and accepted them, in spite of their clear life-style differences. He liked … hell, he liked everything about her.
    Charity wasn’t a prize to be captured, to be won. He’d realized that several days earlier. She was a fascinating woman, one he wanted to explore. He had a feeling that once she let a man in, he wouldn’twant to come out again. If was as if she were entrapping him. He was happily looking forward to getting caught.
    The rest of the flight home passed in silence, mainly because Charity closed her eyes, indicating her weariness. Very crafty, he acknowledged. He enjoyed her quiet presence, though, as much as their conversations.
    And he could watch her. Watch the way her breasts rose and fell leisurely with each breath she took … watch the way her legs shifted sensually against each other … watch how her hands were folded modestly in her lap, as if hiding the very essence of her femininity. Her perfume, sharp and mysterious, drifted on the air currents surrounding them. The interior lights of the plane were off, creating the illusion of privacy. He wanted to reach out and touch her, kiss her, taste her soft flesh and free her hair from its confines. But he knew he couldn’t indulge himself. The privacy
was
only an illusion. However, he could enjoy the torture.
    The plane landed all too soon. He drove them home in his car, the privacy more real but the deprivation still very much in force. When they reached her apartment, he walked her to her door.
    “I’m coming in for one minute,” he said firmly, “just to check that everything’s all right inside.”
    “I appreciate that, but—”
    He cut her off. “Charity, I have a single mother and four sisters who raised me to be a gentleman. Besides, I would want someone to check on their homes, for safety’s sake.”
    He took the keys from her hands and unlocked her apartment door. Inside, he was true to his word,looking in every room. Of course, he couldn’t help