“Oh, well.” Darcy hesitated. “Yes, that would be nice.” She turned away, flustered.
And felt Clive’s hand on her waist. “Here,” he said. “Let me carry that tray in for you. I’ll come back and help Mimi to the car.”
During the chamber music concert, Clive and Darcy bookended Mimi as they sat on the hard wooden pews. The Congregational church was at the top of a short but steep hill, with steps rising from the street, but Mimi couldn’t negotiate those, so Clive went to fetch the car and brought it up the drive next to the church. Darcy helped Mimi down the ramp and into the front seat. Darcy slid into the backseat, and they drove through the narrow winding streets home.
She stepped out of the car and helped Mimi slowly lift her weakened legs and pry her bulk from the seat.
“Tonight was fun,” Darcy said when they were home. “Thank you so much.”
“Thank you for dinner, dear,” Mimi said, patting Darcy’s hand.
Clive said casually, “Come in for a nightcap, why don’t you?”
“Oh.” Darcy looked at her watch, which was only a stalling tactic while she decided what to do, because it was dark now, and she couldn’t see the numbers on her watch. “I have to work tomorrow….”
“Just one short drink,” Clive said.
“Well, that would be lovely.” Lovely? She had to use the word lovely?
Once inside, Mimi said, “Dears, this has been a delightful evening, but I need the comforts of my bed.” She kissed Darcy on the cheek and thumped with her cane down the hall to her bedroom.
“Join me in the kitchen,” Clive said. “Brandy? Wine?”
“A glass of ice water would hit the spot,” Darcy told him. “The church is always so hot on these summer evenings. It doesn’t have air-conditioning and their windows don’t open very far.”
This house had central air-conditioning, an unusual feature in an old home. The owners had taken care with their renovations, leaving the handsome wide board floors while updating the kitchen with slate counters and an island. Darcy slid onto one of the stools and leaned on the counter, watching Clive move around the kitchen, pouring ice water for her and a Scotch and water for himself.
“Let’s go in the living room,” he said. “It’s more comfortable.”
“Blue and white.” Darcy laughed as they entered the room. “Whenever a designer gets hold of an old Nantucket house, they furnish everything in blue and white. Nautical, you know.” She sank into an armchair, smoothing her skirt over her knees.
“I can’t say I’ve really noticed.” Clive took the end of the sofa across from her. “But the air-conditioning is a godsend. Mimi has trouble breathing when it’s too humid.”
“You’re so good to your grandmother.”
He shrugged. “I’m glad to do it. She’s always been there for me. When I got divorced, my parents gave me all kinds of grief, especially about my girls, but Mimi was cool.”
“Tell me about your girls.”
Clive’s face softened. “Alyssa and Zoe. Twins. Seven years old. They live with their mother in Boston. Helen—my ex-wife—teaches at BU, and so do I, so we have a relatively easy system of caring for the girls.” He took a sip of his drink. “What about you? Do you have children?”
“No,” Darcy said, and not wanting to sound pathetic, joked, “but I do have an ex. Boyz lives in Boston, too. He’s part of a large real estate firm.” She held up her glass of water. “If only life were so clear…”
“Ah, what would be the fun in that?” Clive leaned forward and put his hand on Darcy’s knee.
Darcy met his eyes. Her breathing went jagged. “I suppose…” Her brain had melted. She couldn’t put words together.
Clive slowly slid his hand up her thigh and onto her arm. Softly, he trailed his fingers down her bare arm to her hand. He scrolled his index finger in the palm of her hand, then clasped it firmly. “Come over here.”
“I—”
Clive tugged her hand. He was smiling mischievously and his remoteness was gone. He was warm. He was focused on her. “Come on. I promise I’m not going to ravish you in the living room with my grandmother nearby.”
Well, Darcy thought, why not? She was such a novice in romance. She probably took it all too seriously. Clive was gorgeous.
She moved onto the sofa next to him.
He put his hand on her cheek. “You’re beautiful.”
Darcy flushed from his touch and his words. Before she could retort I bet you say that to all the girls, Clive pulled her toward him and kissed her mouth. The kiss was lingering and intense. His warm breath was scented with whiskey, his lips nuzzled hers, his tongue slipped between her lips. He gently slid his hands down to cup her breasts. Her nipples hardened. She thought she just might ravish him in his grandmother’s living room.
He pulled away. “I want you.” His breath was ragged. He took her hand and put it on his khakis, right at the crotch, where his erection pushed at the material. “You see how much I want you?”
Darcy’s mind was an explosion of sensations and thoughts. Desire rushed through her. But what about Nash? She didn’t want to be unfaithful to him, but did she need to be faithful when they weren’t committed to each other? Clive seemed so…experienced. Maybe she was a terrible person, wanting Nash and now wanting Clive.
“You look worried,” Clive said softly.
“I do?”
“You’re frowning.” He lifted her hand away from his body but kept it clasped in his. “I’ve had many responses to my sexual advances, but a frown is a first.”
She laughed, grateful for his wit, his charm. “I suppose…” She didn’t know what she supposed. She supposed too many things to express.
“You work tomorrow,” he reminded her. “We don’t have time tonight, I know that. Still”—that smile—“I couldn’t help myself. I’ve been wanting to kiss you since I first saw you.”
“Me, too,” she said, then shook her head and rolled her eyes and laughed at her words, and the spell she was caught in was broken. She stood up. “I should go home.”
“I’ll walk you.”
“You don’t need to, it’s just next door.”
“If I walk you home, I can kiss you good night.”
She shook her head. “Another kiss like that, and I won’t sleep.”
“Oh, I’ve got lots of different kisses,” he told her.
She knew he was joking, being clever, and yet a danger alert, like a dog lifting its head at a noise she couldn’t hear, resounded within her. He was joking, but he was also telling the truth. This man was a sexual expert. He had an entire armory of kisses.
But was that a bad thing?
They compromised. Clive walked her halfway home, and kissed her chastely on the cheek. Darcy waved at him from her front door, and stepped inside her house.
She leaned against the door. Her black cat strolled down the hall toward her. He planted himself in front of her and lifted his head and meowed.
“I don’t know,” Darcy told him. “I really don’t know.”