there. She stepped closer to him and pointed her finger at his chest. "You don't know a good thing when you see it."
The tip of her finger grazed his skin and a jolt of desire shot through him. Reflexively his arms went around her.
Her sweater was as soft as it looked, her shoulders delicate but small, her hair glossy and thick as it fell down her back and teased his hands. She was a mixture of softness and fiery determination. He'd taken her by surprise, and for a moment she was uncharacteristically still. Her lips were a breath from his. He could smell her scent of roses made more exotic by her feminine sweetness. Her brown eyes were alive with surprise and he wondered if he saw a flare of passion.
Francie in his arms was the stirring experience he'd expected it to be. As he imagined his lips touching hers, caressing hers, devouring hers...
The warning system he'd developed over the years kicked in and the alarm was so loud it reverberated in his head. Kissing Francie would only lead to complications he didn't want or need.
Instead of kissing her, he brought his hand to her face and slowly traced her lips with his forefinger. "I do know a good thing when I see it. Believe me."
She seemed mesmerized, and he felt her tremble. She was as responsive as she was sensual.
Then she blinked and backed away. Avoiding his gaze, she went to the door and put her hand on the knob. As she opened it, she said, "It was a good idea."
"For you, Francie. Not for me."
She left then, closing the door with a forceful plunk.
Logically, Noah knew he'd done what was best as far as his business was concerned, as far as Francie was concerned. But that was small comfort as the emptiness that had always been a part of his life yawned deeper and wider than before.
****
The last person Francie expected to see after she brushed her teeth and combed her hair Monday morning was Noah Gordon. And the last place she expected to see him was sitting at the kitchen table with her father!
The rink was closed on Monday and she usually slept later, ran errands, went to dance class, then read to children at the elementary school. After last night, she'd decided if Noah wanted her, he could come find her.
Wanted her. Come find her. She'd seen the desire in his eyes last night and recalled all too well her response to being held in his arms, touched by his hands. She'd never experienced that kind of excitement before. When Brent had touched her, it had felt nice. Never that explosive.
Noah saw her standing in the doorway and smiled. Her pulse raced and she dropped her eyes to the lap-top computer on the table and her father's receipts spread across the Formica.
"What's going on, Pop?"
Her dad clapped Noah on the shoulder. "Noah here came over to borrow a couple of eggs. He saw what I was doing and told me he might be able to make it easier for me."
"Trading eggs for a computer doesn't seem equal to me."
Her father laughed. "I might have to get one of these, honey. He's got a program that's more intelligent than mine. More comprehensive. Do you realize how much time this could save me?"
"You understand it already?" she asked wistfully.
Noah answered. "We've been at it about an hour. Your dad picked it up quickly."
"Not like me," she muttered.
Noah looked surprised. "You did just fine. It takes some people longer to get into the rhythm of it."
His praise felt good but it didn't eliminate the worry and anxiety she still felt about going back to school. If Noah wouldn't accept her investment in the rink, she needed to consider further education seriously. Especially if, God forbid, the rink closed.
Her stomach growled and she glanced at the clean frying pan on the stove. "Where's Mama?"
"She had an early appointment in York. Decorating some office building. Gina just grabbed a cannoli. It's a good thing Angela didn't see her."
Gina's eating habits and Angela's idea of
The tip of her finger grazed his skin and a jolt of desire shot through him. Reflexively his arms went around her.
Her sweater was as soft as it looked, her shoulders delicate but small, her hair glossy and thick as it fell down her back and teased his hands. She was a mixture of softness and fiery determination. He'd taken her by surprise, and for a moment she was uncharacteristically still. Her lips were a breath from his. He could smell her scent of roses made more exotic by her feminine sweetness. Her brown eyes were alive with surprise and he wondered if he saw a flare of passion.
Francie in his arms was the stirring experience he'd expected it to be. As he imagined his lips touching hers, caressing hers, devouring hers...
The warning system he'd developed over the years kicked in and the alarm was so loud it reverberated in his head. Kissing Francie would only lead to complications he didn't want or need.
Instead of kissing her, he brought his hand to her face and slowly traced her lips with his forefinger. "I do know a good thing when I see it. Believe me."
She seemed mesmerized, and he felt her tremble. She was as responsive as she was sensual.
Then she blinked and backed away. Avoiding his gaze, she went to the door and put her hand on the knob. As she opened it, she said, "It was a good idea."
"For you, Francie. Not for me."
She left then, closing the door with a forceful plunk.
Logically, Noah knew he'd done what was best as far as his business was concerned, as far as Francie was concerned. But that was small comfort as the emptiness that had always been a part of his life yawned deeper and wider than before.
****
The last person Francie expected to see after she brushed her teeth and combed her hair Monday morning was Noah Gordon. And the last place she expected to see him was sitting at the kitchen table with her father!
The rink was closed on Monday and she usually slept later, ran errands, went to dance class, then read to children at the elementary school. After last night, she'd decided if Noah wanted her, he could come find her.
Wanted her. Come find her. She'd seen the desire in his eyes last night and recalled all too well her response to being held in his arms, touched by his hands. She'd never experienced that kind of excitement before. When Brent had touched her, it had felt nice. Never that explosive.
Noah saw her standing in the doorway and smiled. Her pulse raced and she dropped her eyes to the lap-top computer on the table and her father's receipts spread across the Formica.
"What's going on, Pop?"
Her dad clapped Noah on the shoulder. "Noah here came over to borrow a couple of eggs. He saw what I was doing and told me he might be able to make it easier for me."
"Trading eggs for a computer doesn't seem equal to me."
Her father laughed. "I might have to get one of these, honey. He's got a program that's more intelligent than mine. More comprehensive. Do you realize how much time this could save me?"
"You understand it already?" she asked wistfully.
Noah answered. "We've been at it about an hour. Your dad picked it up quickly."
"Not like me," she muttered.
Noah looked surprised. "You did just fine. It takes some people longer to get into the rhythm of it."
His praise felt good but it didn't eliminate the worry and anxiety she still felt about going back to school. If Noah wouldn't accept her investment in the rink, she needed to consider further education seriously. Especially if, God forbid, the rink closed.
Her stomach growled and she glanced at the clean frying pan on the stove. "Where's Mama?"
"She had an early appointment in York. Decorating some office building. Gina just grabbed a cannoli. It's a good thing Angela didn't see her."
Gina's eating habits and Angela's idea of
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