Love Songs by Barbara Delinsky

distance…?” Whether her timidity was in part attributable to dismay, even disappointment at such an easy victory, she was too involved to ponder.
    “I’ll do no such thing.” His lips were firm with determination. “ Stealing kisses has to end. Once you accept my proposal, even agree to wear my ring, we can do it out in the open!”
    Alanna was sadly daunted by his persistence. Shaking her head again, she looked away. “What am I going to do with you?” she asked, half to herself.
    His voice was deeper, closer. “You can begin by greeting me properly. I haven’t seen you since very, very early this morning. I’ve put in a difficult day at the office—”
    “So have I!”
    “Then let me show you the kind of comfort you need.”
    Alanna had no time to protest. Strong fingers cupped her chin, tilting it up as his lips descended to meet hers, parting them swiftly, then proceeding to adore them with a sweetness that stole her breath. It was the kind of kiss she would look forward to at the end of a long day, the kind of kiss she would rush home to, the kind of kiss she could return with a similar offer of comfort and ardor. Which she did. Spontaneously. Reflexively. Intuitively. Without a thought in the world beyond the delight of the moment. It was a perfect pairing, an intermeshing of lips and tongues in perfect harmony with each other. When one coaxed, the other responded. When one challenged, the other satisfied. When, at long last, he moved slowly to the side, Alanna felt bereft. Her forehead fell to his shoulder; her breath was ragged. His was no better.
    “That was nice,” he whispered against her ear, his fingers curving around the back of her neck to gently massage it. At no other point did their bodies touch. “I’d like to come home to that every night,” he voiced her own thought. “What do you think?”
    Alanna lifted her head, struggling to sort out her thoughts against the powerful distraction of the fingers that had slipped beneath the neckline of her blouse to draw lazy circles on her upper back. “I think,” she breathed shallowly, “that there is a definite physical attraction between us. It doesn’t necessitate marriage.”
    His fingers halted their sensual barrage and slowly withdrew. Alex’s expression grew suddenly taut, enigmatic emotions sharpening his glare. “It’s true, then.”
    His statement, spoken in a low and somber tone, puzzled her. “What is?”
    “Rumor.” At her continued confusion, he explained. “Part of my day was spent learning everything I could about Alanna Evans. There was quite a bit, starting with your appointment as Administrative Assistant at WallMar Enterprises seven years ago, covering your promotions to Director of Development, then Vice-President. And I understand that Jim Callahan is about to retire, leaving an even more prime position open … should Jake Wallace be inclined to name you to it. A remarkably fast rise.”
    It was the kind of discussion Alanna might have expected to have with one of her more ambitious colleagues—not with Alexander Knight. These words, coming from him, carried far greater impact. Defiance stiffened her spine, hurt directed her gaze. “What are you implying?”
    “I think you know.”
    “Oh, I know, all right.” She confronted him with a confidence born of innocence. “But I wanted to hear you say it. It’s precisely the kind of thing I’ve had to listen to for the past few years. I expected it from them. Somehow I didn’t from you—though I’m not sure why.”
    For a fleeting moment he seemed the slightest bit unsure. “Are you denying it?”
    “I have nothing to deny.” Her voice was even, her head held with pride. Only her clenched hands—always her hands—suggested her torment. “If you want a denial you’ll have to make the claim first.”
    His lips softened, though his eyes remained wary. “Always on the offensive, eh, Alanna?”
    “What’s the matter?” she taunted him. “Don’t have