Yesterday's Love by Sherryl Woods Page B

time.”
    She brought a loaf of homemade bread to the table instead and added a crock of fresh butter, then dished up huge steaming bowls of the stew. Over dinner, as the conversation veered off on one crazy tangent after another, Tate realized they had at least a few things in common, though hardly the sort of list that would qualify them for a computerized matchup. More important than their skimpy selection of mutual favorite things were the sparks that flew during lively discussions of their disagreements. Victoria had a razor sharp intelligence under that zaniness. She listened carefully to Tate’s point of view and actually tried to understand it. Of course, she then dismissed it with some totally illogical argument that he could barely follow. When she started to make sense it scared the living daylights out of him.
    Still, it was a beginning. But of what? A friendship? A brief romance? Surely it could be no more than that. They’d drive each other crazy, just as his parents had. His mother’s disorganization, her off-the-wall logic and her absolute refusal to think beyond the moment had given his father fits. And, much as he loved his mother, Tate had agreed with his father. Life was supposed to have an order, a certain logic to it. You had to be able to count on things.
    He glanced up at Victoria, who was stacking dishes haphazardly on the counter. She was definitely not a woman who knew the first thing about order. He sighed as a plate slipped off the counter and crashed to the floor.
    â€œLet me help,” he said, bending down to pick up the pieces.
    â€œI’ve got it.”
    Their hands closed over the same piece and their eyes met. The already charged atmosphere sizzled with electricity. Almost against his will, Tate leaned slowly forward and kissed her. He meant it only to be a light, teasing kiss, the sampling of her honeyed sweetness that he’d wanted all evening. Instead, it virtually crackled with passion. The piece of china fell back to the floor, as Victoria’s hands slid slowly along his arms, finally coming to rest lightly on his shoulders. His own hands circled her tiny waist and lifted her to her feet, pulling her body tightly against his. The curves seemed to fit perfectly into his hard contours, as though a sculptor had carved them as a matching pair out of a single piece of marble.
    As her body trembled in Tate’s muscular arms, Victoria remembered every passionate movie kiss she’d ever envied. She sighed, unconsciously opening her mouth to Tate’s exploring tongue, relishing the sensation. The kiss was sweet yet hungry, gentle yet demanding. A riptide of warm, exciting feelings flooded through her, bringing her body alive in a most disconcerting way. She wanted more, wanted Tate’s lips to move beyond her mouth, wanted his hands to touch the breasts that were straining against the thin cotton of her dress. She also wanted him to stop, to give her time to catch her breath. These feelings were too new, too unexpected and far too powerful for her to deal with quite yet.
    â€œTate,” she murmured, as his lips blazed a path down her neck. The fiery touch was even more intense, more nerve-shattering than she’d anticipated. She moaned softly. “Tate, please. It’s nearly eight.”
    â€œSo?”
    â€œWe promised my parents we’d be there by eight.”
    â€œThey think we’re involved, remember. They’ll understand.”
    His lips were at the crest of her breasts, hovering over the creamy flesh. Victoria’s body tensed in excited preparation for his touch, but she said firmly, “No, they won’t.”
    Tate kept one arm securely around her, locking her body against his, as he glanced at his watch. “We’re not due there for another fifteen minutes.”
    â€œIt’s a twenty-minute drive.”
    â€œWe could speed.”
    â€œYou said you never broke the law.”
    â€œI don’t, but