Shadows of the Past by H.M. Ward, Stacey Mosteller Page A

voice. When I open my eyes, Oliver is grinning. I bump his shoulder with mine. “Quit looking at me like that.”
    He goes back to serious Oliver. He holds out another and I see it's a little pink ball.  
    "It's a Pink Champagne Truffle." I take the piece and shove it in my mouth before he takes it back. I don't want to risk not getting to taste that one more time. We chew the truffles, neither of us speaking, just enjoying the freaking amazing nature of that little ball of ecstasy.
    "I feel a little pervy, gushing over the food in the middle of the store. But, I've never tasted anything that good in my entire life," I gush, avoiding his gaze as I do so.  
    Oliver leaves me at the counter looking at all the different kinds of chocolate while he walks around the store. When he comes back to the counter and pays, I figure he's buying more for his stash, but instead of putting his purchase in a bag, he hands it to me.
    "Here," he says, prompting me to look down at what he's putting in my hands. It's a box of the truffles.
    Frack. He got me. Normally I pay my own way, but I can’t afford this and I so totally want it. That stuff is heaven in a box. I shake my head and tell him, "I can't accept this Oliver." I really want to, so much so, that I’m pretty much drooling.
    He backs away from me, shaking his head as he says, "Nope. It’s too late. I already paid and the store has a no returns policy. It's yours." I start to protest, but he puts a finger over my mouth to stop me. "Uh-uh. Just say, ‘Thank You, Oliver,’ and take it. By the way, accepting a gift isn’t the same as taking a handout. And even if it were, chocolate should break all the rules, right?"
    I smirk and glance down at the floor and then back up to him.  
    "It’s just that—”
    “What? You’re afraid you’ll spontaneously orgasm if you carry that bag?” He says it so loudly that several people turn around and look at me. He laughs softly as my face turns red.
    I slap his arm and say in a mocking tone, “Thank you, Oliver.” No, that wasn’t enough. I’m already beet red, so why not? “Oh,” I close my eyes and the word turns into a moan. “Oh, Oliver.” I purr his name as I touch his arm lightly and drag my fingers over his jacket. I suck in air quickly and make a high-pitched noise and sigh. I laugh and pat his arm. “Thanks, it was good for me.”
    People are watching, but the look on Oliver’s face is priceless. It holds me in place. His mouth is open and his lips form a little O. He watches me and I feel like I'm a goddess for a second.  
    “Oliver?” I pat his face lightly and grin.  
    “Right.” He has to shake himself out of it. He blinks rapidly and those blue eyes snap back to life.  
    We wander the store for another moment, commenting on some candies he likes, and then head for the door. When we step outside, there's a very expensive black car waiting at the curb. It’s not the Bentley, which makes me blink.
    “How many cars do you have?”
    Oliver looks at his shoes and then up at my face.  
    "Too many. I admit it’s a vice. I like to call myself a collector, but it’s more of a fetish.”  
    Say what now? I glance at the car and back at Oliver. A car fetish? Does that mean he likes to suck tires?
    He pulls me from my thoughts. “Can I give you a ride home?"  
    Yes, you can ride me all the way home. I stare for a second and then say something more sensible. The guy is looking for a friend, not a lover.  
    "No, that's okay. I don't live very far, and it's a nice day." Okay, that might be a bit of a lie. I don’t live over here, but I can hop on the Tube and be home pretty quick.
    "If you’re certain," he says before getting in the car.  
    I nod and smile at him.  
    “Yeah, and thanks for this.” I hold up the bag.
    “Anytime, American Girl.” He seems like he’s going to say something else, but decides against it. He presses his lips shut, glances at the car and then back at me. “Well, I’ll be