Maybe not, but he was sti
ll thirteen years her senior. “Of course not.”
“It was really nice of you to come tonight,” she said.
“I donated a case of wine for the tasting.” He had no idea why he kept using this as an excuse. “And a 2016 Château Margaux Bordeaux for the silent auction.”
Did she recognize the lameness of his explanation the way Rose had? Grant hated social situations that required small talk, preferring direct conversation on topics of substance. Discussing fertility options with his patients, for example, was familiar ground and not likely to raise his blood pressure. But pretending that this run-in with his ex-lover wasn’t causing his heart to pound complicated his ability to keep the exchange flowing in a casual manner.
If Harley noticed his discomfort, she gave no sign. “The women of Zest appreciate your generosity,” she stated with an appreciative smile.
“Was the fundraiser successful?” he asked, utilizing the safe topic to extend his time in her presence. Less than a minute in her company and he could already feel the pull of attraction wrenching him off balance.
“It’s still early, but Beth thinks we have the potential of making our goal,” Harley said, referring to her older sister who was well-known around Royal for her event planning and charitable activities. “Which is very exciting.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
The scent clinging to her fair skin was different from the one that haunted his dreams. All those years ago, she’d worn a sophisticated perfume that when combined with her complex updo, heavy makeup and sexy gown had enabled her to appear ten years older. These days, she’d obviously stopped pretending to be more mature than her age and her light floral fragrance suited her natural, youthful charm. To Grant’s surprise, her fresh face and uncomplicated hairstyle appealed to him more than her elaborate appearance during their fateful first encounter. The confidence she exuded in the simple flowered sundress that she and several others were modeling had him wanting to steal her away to somewhere private and listen to her stories surrounding her time abroad. That he was already thinking in terms of being alone with Harley warned Grant that he was heading down a dangerous path.
He glanced at his watch. “It’s getting late.”
“Yes,” she murmured. “We wouldn’t want you turning into a pumpkin.”
When his gaze snagged on her wry half smile, Grant was transported back in time. That night of the TCC ball, a similar grin had produced an urgent craving to taste her soft lips. He’d never acted in such a reckless manner before or since. Yet, here he was tonight, assailed by the same eagerness to wrap his arms around her slim waist and pull her body against his. To dip his head and ravish her mouth.
“It was nice to see you again,” he said, his tone made husky by the direction of his thoughts. “Best of luck with Zest.”
As he turned to leave, she lightly touched his arm with the tips of her fingers. The fleeting contact seared through the layers of cloth, stopping him cold. Her hand fell away as he turned his head to regard her.
“Before you go,” she began, her gaze direct and unflinching, “I wanted to ask if we could speak privately.”
Despite his earlier compulsion to get her alone, Grant’s impatience flared until he took stock of her expression and realized she wasn’t coming on to him. Her somber demeanor left him mired in concern. Before coming here tonight, he’d prepared himself to defend against her flirtation. He’d expected an encounter with her going one of three ways. Either she’d pretend he didn’t exist, act as if they’d never spent a combustible weekend together or turn on the charm in an effort to seduce him. He never imagined, however, that she’d go all serious on him.
He gazed around them at the crush of people and wondered how they could leave together without being noticed. “Now?”
She shook her head. “It’s something that I should’ve told you long ago. But I’d prefer not to do it here. Maybe I could come by your house one day this week?”
He was struck by a strong desire to drink deep of her green eyes and plumb the real reason she’d want to speak with him after five long years of silence. Did she think to persuade him to welcome her back into his bed?
Madness.
Or was it?
Already his body tensed with anticipation while hunger raked across his nerves and sent his willpower sprawling in the dust. If she set out to seduce him, would he have the strength to turn her away? Of course, given how he’d treated her last time, he was a little surprised she’d pursue him.
With an aggrieved sigh, he shook his head. “Nothing in the ensuing years has changed my mind,” he declared. “I’m not interested in starting anything up with you.”
Her eyes widened at his bluntness, but when her response came, it was delivered with cool composure. “That’s a very bold assumption on your part.”
Once again, Grant realized that he was not dealing with the same Harley Wingate he’d known half a decade earlier. He stared at her in confounded silence, suspecting she expected him to apologize. Let her wait. He’d only restated what he believed was best for both of them.
“You asked to speak with me at my home. After what happened last time, what else should I presume?”
“That maybe I wanted to catch up with you without all the eyes of Royal on us?”
“You want to catch up?” he countered, bewildered by her righteous tone. “Why now after no contact for the last five years?”
“I guess you’ll just have to agree to meet with me.”