Yesterday's Love by Sherryl Woods Page B

undertone, to have him want her…and admit it. The idea intrigued her and a trembling responsiveness swept through her as she surveyed him in this new light.
    Actually, she reminded herself, it wasn’t so new. It was the way she had first viewed him from that tree and during those brief, tantalizing moments in his arms…right before they’d settled into their preassigned roles as righteous government worker and presumed tax evader. He had felt absolutely wonderful then, his body firm and solid and reassuring, his masculine muscles unyielding against her feminine softness. Just last night, his kisses had been the shattering, knee-weakening stuff of a torrid big screen love scene. A quiver of excitement flared at the memory, and suddenly she wanted more than anything to know that unique, bone-melting feeling again.
    At first she hadn’t the faintest idea of how to accomplish this without simply throwing herself into his arms. She could imagine his reaction to that. He wouldn’t recover from the shock for days. Actually, the idea of startling Tate appealed to her, but she resisted it. Instead, she settled for a more traditional approach, a very feminine appeal. Tilting her head provocatively, she gazed unblinkingly into his eyes until she knew she had his undivided and, judging from the flush on his neck above his collar, slightly nervous attention. It turned out flirting wasn’t quite as difficult as she’d thought it would be, and even without much practice her technique certainly seemed to be working fine.
    â€œTate,” she began softly.
    He cleared his throat and blinked, his brown eyes cautious. “Yes.”
    â€œCould we go someplace and dance?” She reached over and touched his hand beguilingly. “Please.”
    He regarded her incredulously. “You want to go to a disco?” he asked, sounding as shocked as if she’d declared a desire to have a fling in one of those adult motels with mirrors on the ceiling and king-size waterbeds.
    â€œOf course not,” Victoria replied indignantly. A disco was the last place she wanted to go. She wanted to be in the man’s arms swaying to soft, romantic music, not twirling around under some blinding, flashing lights trying to find him in a crowd. “Isn’t there someplace we can waltz?”
    â€œWaltz?” His expression was bemused, as if he’d never heard the word before.
    â€œSurely you’re old enough to recall what that is. Ballroom dancing may be old-fashioned, but it hasn’t vanished from the face of the earth. Can’t you remember how to take a woman in your arms and move slowly around a room in time to the music?” Victoria teased.
    â€œOf course, I remember,” he retorted indignantly. “We had lessons in junior high. The boys all stood on one side of the room with sweaty palms and giggled, and the girls stood on the other side in their party dresses trying not to look desperate.”
    â€œYou don’t seem to remember much about the dancing part.”
    He shuddered. “I’ve blocked it from my mind.”
    â€œWell, unblock it and let’s go someplace where I can prove to you that there’s a very good reason for such an antiquated custom.”
    He paused thoughtfully, then shook his head. “I don’t think there have been places like that in Cincinnati since the turn of the century.”
    â€œOf course there have. You just don’t know where to find them,” she charged.
    â€œYou may be right,” he admitted, taking a deep breath. “Would you rather drive around and look for one or would you be willing to try my apartment instead?”
    Actually, Tate thought, Victoria couldn’t have given him a better opening. He’d been wondering all evening how he could entice her to come home with him so they could be alone. Blatantly suggesting that she stop by for a drink, with its implicit hint of a bedroom romp to follow,