She slid her arms about him, looking up into his face. "Hope it chokes you," she said happily.
"You can sit and glare at me and make sure it does."
They laughed. He kissed the end of her nose, and they strolled the rest of the way in perfect accord, their arms about each other's waists.
What had they been arguing about? She'd forgotten before they reached home. All that was left was the joy of being in harmony with him again. That joy lifted her up so that she seemed to float on air. He existed. The world was a perfect place.
The supper was just as she had planned, soft lights, a rose beside her plate. But this time it was his doing. Afterward they sat on the sofa and he poured wine bought specially for the occasion.
"Forgive me?" he asked, lifting his glass to her.
"For what?"
"For being an insufferable know-it-all who can't stop sticking his oar in where it isn't wanted."
"Oh, that," she said airily. "I'm used to that. In fact, I'd better forgive you now for all the future occasions, too. Think how much time I'll save."
They laughed together. It was the perfect moment. She was sure of it. She leaned forward and very deliberately placed her lips against his.
She hadn't gotten it wrong, she thought eagerly. She could feel the tremor in him that was the mirror image of her own. She pressed closer, kissing him more insistently until his response leaped up like fire, and his hands were on her arms, holding her tight.
But in the same moment she felt him gently pushing her away and separating his lips from hers. Pink with embarrassment and disappointment she glared at him.
"Is there something wrong with me?" she demanded, aggressive to hide her anguish.
"No," he said gently, "there's nothing wrong with you at all."
She glared suspiciously. "You're not gay, are you?"
He grinned and shook his head. "Word of honor."
"Then why won't you kiss me, you rotten swine?"
"Because I wouldn't want to stop at kissing, and you-well, you're young and-"
"Are you accusing me of being a virgin?" Pippa demanded hotly.
"It's not an accusation-"
"Oh, no! It's only like telling me that I'm a backward infant. In this day and age-"
"I suppose there are still virgins in this day and age," he observed. He was looking tenderly into her face, and his lips were twitching.
"Not in London," she said idiotically. She knew she was crazy, but she couldn't stop herself.
"It's just that there's something about you-something very sweet and young-that made me think-oh, hell!" Now it was his turn to be embarrassed, and Pippa seized her chance to regain the initiative.
"You know your trouble, Luke? You think too much. What a lot of fuss you make over something that's no big deal. The world is full of ships that pass in the night, and if…if people like each other…"
In later years, reliving that conversation, she'd heard the childish bravado and known that Luke must have heard it, too. He hadn't been fooled-of course not. But whatever defenses he'd rallied against her had collapsed in a heap. Suddenly she was in his arms, his fingers were working urgently on her buttons, and everything was happening as she had dreamed.
When he released her breasts she was almost ashamed of them. They were so proudly peaked, the nipples already firm, the aureoles dark, telling their own tale of the desire she'd been trying to hold back. What had happened to maidenly modesty?
Then he laid his lips gently against one, teasing it with his tongue, and she thought, when she could manage to think at all, to hell with maidenly modesty!
As his tongue nudged the nipple softly back and forth she thought she might go out of her mind. How could anything feel like this, and how had she spent so long not knowing? So much time wasted! It was a conspiracy.
She took a long, trembling breath and dug her fingers into him as his lips and tongue continued their tormenting work. With every rasp the world shivered into glittering fragments, blinded her, faded, began again.
He undressed her slowly, removing garments as though there was plenty of time. Only his quickened breathing and the way his fingers shook as he eased off her jeans hinted at how frantically he was controlling himself until the right moment. Then her panty hose slid away, and at last she was naked.
He removed his own clothes in a hurry and chucked them on the floor without taking his eyes from Pippa.
"Hello," he said, smiling.
"Hello." She sounded breathless.
She'd never shown her body off to a man before, but she knew she could be proud of its slim, youthful lines, tiny waist and long flanks. Her breasts were small, firm and cheekily uptilted. She longed to ask him if he thought she was beautiful, but perhaps he was already letting her know in the loving way he stroked her smooth skin and traced the outline of her curves, murmuring appreciatively as he did so and sometimes stopping to bestow a light kiss before moving on.
She was almost shocked by the fierceness of her own sensations, as if her body was possessed by another being, one that had never heard of restraint. For a wild moment all the old precepts of childhood-don't grab-be patient-learn to wait-flashed through her head, and she knew they belonged to another world, not the world of thrilling, sensational delight Luke was offering her now. She was alive for the first time in her existence.
She reached for him, and it felt so good to be able to touch him all over at last. She'd tried so often to picture him without clothes, but nothing could match the reality of his lean, smooth body. She was at fever pitch. She wanted him so badly.
"Luke," she whispered, "you do want me, don't you?"
His answer came without words. Grinning, he drew back so that she could see the truth for herself, and there he was, proud and hard with the splendid, arrogant power of youth. And he was all hers.
"Luke," she cried in an agony of impatience.
"Yes, darling."
At last he parted her legs and settled between them. Then he was sliding easily into her, and it was beautiful, and she wanted him more and more. She wanted it never to stop. She wanted the whole world, and he was giving it to her. He thrust deeply and slowly, sending pleasure through every part of her body, starting with her loins and radiating out to her fingertips.
Then it happened. Something in the universe went click and everything fell into place. Instinct took over, guiding her perfectly. It was as though Luke had tossed her a dream and she'd caught it and run with it. Nobody had told her how, but her hips moved of their own accord, driving against him. The feeling of being able to heighten her own pleasure and his was thrilling, and when Luke responded by thrusting back more fiercely, she went into orbit.
As she felt the same happen to him, she threw back her head, almost caroling with joy. It was all true. Everything was true. There was magic in the world after all, and happiness and fulfillment and laughter and song. It was true. She was alive and glad and young, and it was all wonderfully, gloriously true.
He held her close as they came down from the heights. Pippa lay against him, blissfully happy, understanding now that all her rationalizing had been hot air. She could never have done this with Jack or Andy or Clive or any of the others. Because they weren't Luke.
He kissed the top of her head, but she could sense that he was troubled about something. "What is it?" she demanded. "Am I no good?"
"You're wonderful. It's just that I promised myself I wouldn't do this. And I guess I'm not very honest, because if I'd meant it I'd have stopped seeing you and put myself out of the way of temptation. I wanted you so much, and sooner or later I was bound to give in."
"But why shouldn't you?"
''Because of the way you are, because of the way I am. I won't stick around, Pippa. I never do. When my permit expires, I'm back off to Los Angeles, on my own. It's like you said-ships that pass in the night."