Heartsong by Debbie Macomber

sounded very prim and proper, but that couldn’t be helped. His laughing eyes riled her. “I’m glad you think it’s so funny,” she burst out irritably.
    He ignored her outburst and took the keys from her trembling hand. “And as a proper gentleman, I consider it my duty to escort you safely to your door.”
    Skye was forced to follow him and did so ungraciously. The hallway outside her door was well lit, and Skye offered a silent prayer of thanksgiving that her landlord had recently installed brighter lightbulbs.
    “I enjoyed the dinner. Thank you, Jordan,” she said as soon as he had unlocked the door. She extended her hand, ready to accept her keys, her knees suddenly weak at his close proximity. The cold metal felt good against her outstretched hand as he placed the chain there and gently folded her hand closed. With his forefinger tucked beneath her chin, he raised her downcast gaze to meet his. Forced to meet his eyes, Skye felt a flood of warmth sweep over her. His eyes were no longer laughing but warm and sensuous. She wanted to back away from him and break the spell, but the attraction was so strong, shecouldn’t blink.
    The pressure of his hand moved from her chin to the back of her neck, his fingers sliding into her hair. Slowly his mouth descended to hers. Skye could have protested, but she didn’t utter a sound. Caught in the powerful pull of her senses, her eyes closed slowly, the curiosity to discover his kiss overpowering.
    His mouth was warm and gentle, the pressure light and sweet, as if he understood her need for tenderness. Fighting the clamoring of her nerves that had suddenly burst into life, Skye remained frozen, unable to respond and equally unable to break away.
    When the pressure of the kiss ended, Skye remained caught in the sensations, her eyes shut. Only when Jordan’s hand pulled away from her hair did she find the strength to look at him. Moving aside, he turned the knob of her door and pushed it open for her.
    “Good night, Skye,” he whispered huskily.
    She stared at him blankly for a moment.
    “Don’t look at me like that,” he groaned. “Now go inside before I change my mind.”
    His threat, indeed promise, quickly broke the spell, and Skye hurried inside, welcoming the safety of home.

Chapter Four
    Saturday morning the skies were overcast, leaden-gray clouds gloomily foreshadowing a day only a true San Franciscan could love.
    Skye woke in good spirits; she had enjoyed herself last night. Unwillingly she admitted that Jordan was good company, but made no attempt to analyze her feelings regarding his kiss. It had been her moment of reckoning; she had wanted that kiss. As for his surprise visit and the dinner, it had just been his way of settling a debt, she supposed. She had bought the pizza, and he was simply returning the gesture. He was probably on his way back to Los Angeles by now, and she could close the door on this short episode, remembering him fondly.
    The Saturday-morning housework took almost two hours, and with the last load of wash folded, Skye sat down with a good book. The latest study on child behavior she had purchased had come highly recommended, and she had been looking forward to reading it.
    Yet despite how hard she concentrated hardly a word filtered through her thoughts. Somehow the picture of the violinists strolling into the restaurant kept flitting through her mind. Skye couldn’t refrain from laughing all over again. No wonder Jordan had looked so pleased when she had teasingly said all they needed were violinists. She had fallen right into his trap.
    The old seaman had thought they were lovers. Jordan Kiley probably had lots of lovers; he was definitely a man of the world. She wondered why he had never married, but suddenly realized that for all she knew he could have a wife conveniently tucked away. Somehow the idea wasn’t feasible. No, he was too straightforward and candid to cheat on his wife. She didn’t doubt he was an experienced lover,