Adrianna frowned, then shook her head. "I don't think so, Nancy, not tonight."
"Come on, Addie, I'd go with you."
"But I don't want to go."
"Why not?"
Why, indeed, Adrianna mused ruefully. At the moment, the last thing she wanted was to seeNavarre again. "I don't think Cliff House is open on Sunday," she fibbed.
"Of course it is. Come on, it'll be fun. Russ is out of town, and we can go to dinner after."
Adrianna sighed, wondering how she could wriggle out of this without hurting her best friend's feelings.
"Pick you up in ten minutes," Nancy said, and hung up the phone before Adrianna could object.
The prospect of seeing Navarre made Adrianna as nervous as a cat as Nancy drove out of town toward Old Piney Branch Road. How could she face him again after last night?
"You're awfully quiet this evening," Nancy remarked. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, I'm just tired. I spent the day working in my garden." Adrianna glanced over at her friend. She'd known Nancy Kendrick since first grade. Nancy was a pretty girl, with dark brown hair, brown eyes, and a winsome smile. Once, they'd been almost inseparable, but then Nancy had married Russ and even though they'd remained close friends, they didn't get together as often as they once had.
Too soon, Nancy was pulling into the driveway at the end of Old Piney Branch Road.
Adrianna stared at the old house for a long moment, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the car.
"He sure keeps weird hours," Nancy remarked as they climbed the porch stairs. "I don't know how he expects to make any money when he's only open three hours a day."
"Maybe he doesn't need the money," Adrianna remarked flippantly. "Maybe the antique business is just a hobby."
"Yeah, right." Nancy stared at the door. "Do we knock, or just walk in?"
Adrianna shrugged. "Just go on in, I guess," she suggested, hoping she could get in and out without seeing Navarre.
For a time, Adrianna and Nancy wandered together from room to room, admiring a display of Louis XV furniture, grimacing at an old voodoo death mask, laughing as they tried to imagine churning butter in an old wooden crock, but then Nancy went upstairs to check out the bedroom furniture, leaving Adrianna in the dining room trying to decide if she wanted to spend a hundred dollars on an old English plant stand.
Even though her back was to the door, she knew the exact moment he entered the room. Every nerve ending in her body tingled with his presence, every fiber of her being was acutely, achingly, aware of him.
"Adrianna." His voice, soft and low, speaking her name, just her name, and yet she heard so much more.
Slowly, she turned around to face him. Awareness stretched between them, thick with need.
Adrianna swallowed hard, afraid of the emotions his mere presence aroused in her, afraid of the restless yearning she read in his eyes.
Navarre took a step toward her, waiting for her to back away. When she didn't, he took another step, and another, until he was almost close enough to touch her. He curled his hands into tight fists to keep from doing just that, afraid that if he dared touch her just once, he would never let her go.
For a moment, they gazed into each other's eyes, and then Navarre let out a deep sigh that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul.
"Adrianna," he murmured. "What are we going to do?"
She didn't pretend she didn't understand, didn't make any of the dozens of coy gestures so common to women. She just stood there, her gaze locked to his, and then shook her head. "I don't know. What do you want to do?"
Heat flared in the depths of his eyes. "I want to make love to you."
She wasn't shocked or even surprised by his answer. Still, his bold reply brought a quick blush to her cheeks. It was what she wanted, too, though she couldn't admit it. Not to him. Not even to herself.
But Navarre heard the quickening of her breath, saw the wanting in her eyes.
He whispered her name as he moved toward her, needing to hold her, to feel her warmth, to taste her sweetness.
The sudden wariness in her eyes halted him in mid-stride. She wanted him, he thought bitterly, but she was still afraid of him.
"I won't hurt you," he vowed, praying that it was a promise he could keep. "Please don't be afraid of me."
"I'm not."
It was a lie, and they both knew it.
"Addie, where are you?"
Nancy's voice cut through the tension between them.
"In here," Adrianna called.
Navarre swore under his breath as a dark-haired young woman entered the dining room.
"Oh, there you are," Nancy said. She glanced at Adrianna's flushed cheeks, then looked at the man standing nearby.
Adrianna forced a smile. "Nancy, this is Mr. Navarre. He owns the shop. Mr. Navarre, this is my friend, Nancy Kendrick."
"Charmed, madam," Navarre said, inclining his head in Nancy's direction. "Welcome to my house."
"Thank you. Did you find anything, Addie?"
"No."
"Me, either. At least, nothing I can afford." She smiled apologetically at Navarre, then looked at Adrianna again. "Are you ready to go?"
Adrianna nodded. As much as she had dreaded coming here, now she found herself hating to leave. "Yes, I guess so."
Navarre stepped forward and took Adrianna's hand in his. "I hope you'll come again, Miss Grant."
"I will, thank you."
"And you, too, Ms. Kendrick." He smiled at Nancy, but he didn't release his hold on Adrianna.
"Thank you, Mr. Navarre." Nancy stared pointedly at his hand, which was still clasping Adrianna's. "Addie, are you ready?''
"Yes."
Adrianna was keenly aware of Navarre's gaze on her back as she followed Nancy out of the room.
"Well!" Nancy exclaimed as soon as they were in the car, "what wasthat all about?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know darn well what I mean! What's going on between you two?"
"Nothing."
"It looked like something to me. He couldn't keep his eyes, or his hands, off you."
"Don't be silly."
"Silly! There was so much tension in that room you could see it."
"Nancy..."
"Addie!"
"For goodness sakes, I just met the man. There's nothing going on."
"There will be," Nancy predicted. "There will be."
Adrianna sank onto the sofa, a cup of hot chocolate cradled in her hands. Dinner with Nancy had been fun, once she got her friend off the subject of Navarre. But then, Nancy was always fun, always able to see the bright side of life, always able to find humor in the grimmest of situations. Her cheerful nature had made her one of the most popular girls in high school. Adrianna had always envied Nancy her easy way with people, her ability to see things as they really were.
They had lingered over coffee, talking about Russ, about the new mall being built at the other end of town, reminiscing about high school. It had been after ten when Nancy brought her home.
A sigh escaped Adrianna's lips as she thought of Navarre, his gray eyes intent upon her face, his voice soft and husky as he whispered that he wanted to make love to her. It was what she wanted, too, and yet she couldn't help being afraid of what it would mean, of the changes it would make in her life.
She set her cup aside, wondering if she was ready to deal with all the implications of surrendering her virginity to Navarre. Though he appeared to be only a few years older than she, there was an air of sophistication and experience about him that made him seem much older. No doubt he'd known many women, while her experience with men was limited to heavy petting sessions in the back seat of her old boyfriend's car, and one brief encounter that had, fortunately, ended before any damage had been done.
Navarre. She closed her eyes, wondering what it would be like to let him make love to her...
A knock at the door roused her from the edge of sleep. Yawning, she went to the door. "Who is it?"
"Navarre."
Her heart did a somersault at the sound of his voice. With hands that shook, she released the security chain and unlocked the door.
Taking a deep breath, she ran a hand through her hair and opened the door. And he was there, filling her vision, a tall, dark man dressed in a white T shirt and jeans.
"Navarre." His name whispered past her lips. His gaze moved over her. She'd been asleep, he thought. Her hair, slightly mussed, fell over her shoulders. "May I come in?"
"I don't know. It's late..." She lifted her hand, then let it fall. "Sure, come on in."
She stepped back so he could enter the house, then closed and locked the door behind him, only to stand there, uncertain what to do next.
He solved the problem for her by taking her into his arms. It occurred to her that she should protest, that she should be insulted, annoyed, angry. Instead, she rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes.
"I had to see you," he murmured. "I tried to stay away. I told myself you were too young, too innocent, that I had no right to want you." His hand stroked her hair, then slid down her cheek. "Tell me it's all right for me to be here, Adrianna. Tell me you don't want me to go."
"I don't want you to go."
She felt a shudder pass through his body as his arms tightened around her.
"I need you, Annie," he said, his voice low and husky.
"Navarre..."
"Shhh, it's all right. Just let me hold you a moment more, and then I'll go."
She didn't understand the urgency in his voice, the sadness, the distant echo of loneliness. But he needed her. She could understand that, and she stood in his arms, content to be there, with her face pressed to his chest, listening to the slow, steady beat of his heart.
Time lost all meaning. An hour might have passed. An eternity might have passed.
"I'd better go," he said, his breath tickling her cheek. "It's late."
But still he didn't release her. Her nearness was intoxicating, her warmth mesmerizing. He'd made it a point to feed before coming to her house and now, for these few moments, he could be near her without being afraid. It felt so good to hold her as an ordinary man might hold a woman, to stroke the softness of her hair and skin, to press kisses along the slender curve of her throat without fearing that the blood hunger would overcome him.
Gently, he tipped her face to his and kissed her. And she melted in his arms, her body meshing with his, her breasts warm and soft against his chest. Her arms slid up around his neck, and she drew him closer, moaning softly as his tongue slid over her bottom lip.
"Navarre..."
"I know," he murmured. "I feel it, too."
He kissed her once more, and then, with regret, he let her go.
She gazed up at him, her expression slightly dazed, her lips parted. She was so beautiful, he thought, so innocent. He had no right to interfere in her life. And yet, even knowing it was wrong, he couldn't stay away.
"I'd better go before this gets out of hand."
Adrianna nodded. She didn't want him to leave, not yet, but he was right. Another minute in his arms and she'd be inviting him to her bed. And she wasn't ready for that, not yet.
He kissed her once more, and then he was gone.
There were no bad dreams that night.