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Authors: Lynnette Bernard
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and salad to entrée and dessert. It was a beautiful and exclusive restaurant, and she knew from experience that the food was going to be cooked to perfection and cost a small fortune.
“To your writing success,” he told her, holding up his fluted glass of sparkling Cristal . “And to mine.” Those added words were spoken low and were accompanied by a tight smile.
Rachel raised her glass to him and sipped the champagne carefully. For an intelligent woman it certainly took her long enough to realize the truth about what Richard felt for her. At least now she knew what Richard really wanted. And it wasn’t her.
“Have some more,” Richard told her, picking up the flat bottle with the gold label and filling her glass. He reached forward to tip the end of her glass up as she brought it to her lips.
“No, Richard,” Rachel protested, barely able to stop him from tipping the glass too far and spilling the expensive drink all over her. “I don’t really want any more, thank you.”
She looked across at him and saw the irritation that immediately crossed his face as he replaced the bottle in the elegant bucket beside their table. She saw his eyes flash with anger and found that she was becoming more than impatient with him. It had taken her long enough, but she was now able to step back from the situation and assess it for what it was worth. She knew he was trying to make her feel guilty and find some reason to blame her for ruining his happy mood on this special night. He wasn’t going to be successful.
She watched him silently for a moment. Richard’s strikingly handsome face was consumed with anger. The chiseled, almost delicate features were attractive to every woman who looked at them. His complexion was perfectly tanned, his hair cropped short with lighter streaks to complement his own blond hair. It was obvious that the tan and the highlights were from artificial enhancement, not the natural result of someone who spent his time outside to allow the sunshine to affect his coloring. Why didn’t she realize that the man before her was the making of calculated determination?
The situation was awkward, but she was determined to evaluate it objectively. She knew that she would not be able to exit the restaurant without making a scene. She would have to make the best of it. She concentrated on the glass before her and took a cleansing breath. Any romantic thoughts she once had were unrealistic and would have to remain where they belonged—within her own mind.
She finally realized and accepted that she and Richard could never have any permanent relationship. She really didn’t know him very well. Until tonight she was content to be with him and enjoy the fantasy life that he had offered her. Now, as she thought back, she remembered dates that were romantic and fun, yet showed an anger and immaturity within him despite the fact that he was seven years her senior. She shook her head slowly and placed her glass before her on the table, silently wondering if any man ever truly reached full maturity.
Memories of Richard’s past childish antics were suddenly racing forth in her mind. She wondered why she had never realized it before. Could she have been that blind to the truth? Had she been so enamored with the thought of falling in love that she couldn’t see the real man before her? Obviously so. How pathetic that she was so delusional. Goodness, she was thirty years old! What the hell was wrong with her? She had the sudden urge to slap herself for her stupidity.
Richard looked at her silently, anger still very obvious on his face. His eyes were deadly cold for a moment then softened slightly. He reached out to hold her hand, squeezing it tightly and leaning forward to whisper against the side of her face.
“You can make me feel better later,” he told her seductively, licking her earlobe before leaning back and winking at her. He drank down the Cristal and once again reached out to lift the chilled bottle
“To your writing success,” he told her, holding up his fluted glass of sparkling Cristal . “And to mine.” Those added words were spoken low and were accompanied by a tight smile.
Rachel raised her glass to him and sipped the champagne carefully. For an intelligent woman it certainly took her long enough to realize the truth about what Richard felt for her. At least now she knew what Richard really wanted. And it wasn’t her.
“Have some more,” Richard told her, picking up the flat bottle with the gold label and filling her glass. He reached forward to tip the end of her glass up as she brought it to her lips.
“No, Richard,” Rachel protested, barely able to stop him from tipping the glass too far and spilling the expensive drink all over her. “I don’t really want any more, thank you.”
She looked across at him and saw the irritation that immediately crossed his face as he replaced the bottle in the elegant bucket beside their table. She saw his eyes flash with anger and found that she was becoming more than impatient with him. It had taken her long enough, but she was now able to step back from the situation and assess it for what it was worth. She knew he was trying to make her feel guilty and find some reason to blame her for ruining his happy mood on this special night. He wasn’t going to be successful.
She watched him silently for a moment. Richard’s strikingly handsome face was consumed with anger. The chiseled, almost delicate features were attractive to every woman who looked at them. His complexion was perfectly tanned, his hair cropped short with lighter streaks to complement his own blond hair. It was obvious that the tan and the highlights were from artificial enhancement, not the natural result of someone who spent his time outside to allow the sunshine to affect his coloring. Why didn’t she realize that the man before her was the making of calculated determination?
The situation was awkward, but she was determined to evaluate it objectively. She knew that she would not be able to exit the restaurant without making a scene. She would have to make the best of it. She concentrated on the glass before her and took a cleansing breath. Any romantic thoughts she once had were unrealistic and would have to remain where they belonged—within her own mind.
She finally realized and accepted that she and Richard could never have any permanent relationship. She really didn’t know him very well. Until tonight she was content to be with him and enjoy the fantasy life that he had offered her. Now, as she thought back, she remembered dates that were romantic and fun, yet showed an anger and immaturity within him despite the fact that he was seven years her senior. She shook her head slowly and placed her glass before her on the table, silently wondering if any man ever truly reached full maturity.
Memories of Richard’s past childish antics were suddenly racing forth in her mind. She wondered why she had never realized it before. Could she have been that blind to the truth? Had she been so enamored with the thought of falling in love that she couldn’t see the real man before her? Obviously so. How pathetic that she was so delusional. Goodness, she was thirty years old! What the hell was wrong with her? She had the sudden urge to slap herself for her stupidity.
Richard looked at her silently, anger still very obvious on his face. His eyes were deadly cold for a moment then softened slightly. He reached out to hold her hand, squeezing it tightly and leaning forward to whisper against the side of her face.
“You can make me feel better later,” he told her seductively, licking her earlobe before leaning back and winking at her. He drank down the Cristal and once again reached out to lift the chilled bottle
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