After all, it was their first date, unless you counted prowling through the rain looking for Squiggles. She wondered if he had come to give her the third-degree about Sara, or because he couldn't forget that kiss any more than she could. Wondered if seeing the new rail on her porch had irritated him, or pleased him. Dinner would be leisurely, whether he intended it to be or not. She'd ask questions, absorbing Alexander Kent with as much thoroughness as she could. She would savor every minute, every molecule of building tension. If the tension built much more, she'd be a wreck! Only moments ago when he'd grasped her wrist and pulled her back, she'd felt herself sliding into his arms, felt the shock when she stopped short of him. His eyes, telling her he wanted to touch her everywhere. Not tonight Of course it wouldn't be tonight, but even though it hadn't happened yet, she would dress for her lover. Luckily, she'd showered just before he came. Now she shed her leotard quickly and rummaged through her drawer until she found a lacy black camisole.
