"Should I thank you?"
"Jesus." He rammed his hands into his pockets. She was about as approachable now as polished marble. "Did it seem like I was making a sacrifice? I've given some thought to kissing you, and if you want to step off that goddamn pedestal again for a minute, you'll admit you knew I'd given some thought to it."
"I'm not trying to make you angry."
"Just a happy accident, then. Laura—'' he turned to her, not completely sure of his next move, then swore as the valet zipped his car up to the base of the stairs.
"That's a beauty, sir," the boy said, then beamed at the tip Michael all but threw at him. "Thank you, sir. Drive safely."
Calmer once he had the car racing away from the club, Michael took a breath. "Look, sugar, you took a hard knock in there. I'm sorry for it. If you ask me, that jerk you made the mistake of marrying isn't worth a minute of your time."
She wasn't asking him, was she? Laura thought nastily. "I'm not concerned about me. It's the girls."
"Parents get divorced. It's a fact of life. Fathers take off and ignore their kids. Another fact."
"That's very easy to say when you don't have children to concern you."
A shadow crossed his face. "No, I don't have any children. I've been one who lived through divorce and neglect, though. You get through it."
She shut her eyes. She'd forgotten that his father had left him and his mother. "I'm sorry, but that doesn't make it right. Allison needs his attention, and his disinterest hurts her."
"What about you? Are you still in love with him?"
"No. God, no. Candy's welcome to him. She's just not welcome to my girls."
"I don't see them giving her more than the patented Templeton dismissal. That small, polite smile."
"We don't do that."
"Oh, sugar, yes, you do."
She shifted and aimed a steady glance at him. "Do you know why you call women'sugar,' Michael? That way, when you roll off one in the middle of the night, you don't have to remember annoying little details like her name."
His mouth twitched into something between a grimace and a smile. "Close enough. I guarantee I'll remember yours… Laura. If you're considering letting me roll off of you tonight."
She wasn't sure if she was shocked, outraged, or amused. But she did know that most of the sting from Peter had faded. "That's an incredibly flattering offer, Michael. I don't know when I've had one quite so—"
"Honest," he suggested.
"Crude," she finished. "I'm afraid I'll have to decline."
"Up to you. How about a walk on the cliffs instead?" On impulse, he swung the car to the shoulder.
They speared, magnetic, moon-kissed, and entirely too romantic. Because she could envision herself walking them with him, their hands clasped, she shook her head. "I'm not wearing the right shoes for cliff walking."
"Then we'll just sit here a minute."
"I don't think—"
"I have something to say to you."
Nerves began to hum again. She clasped her hands in her lap. She was parked on a dark road in the moonlight. Something she hadn't done in too many years to count. "All right."
"You're a beautiful, desirable woman." When her head snapped around and he saw her eyes wide and confused, he nearly laughed. "I guess that's something you hear all the time."
It certainly wasn't, which left her at a loss as to how to respond. "I'm flattered you think so."
"I want you."