Page 29
She shrugs. “I kind of fell into the conservation job because it was the only thing going at the time. And I love it… but my degree is in Cultural Heritage Management—preserving, promoting, and funding cultural sites and museum collections. Securing sponsorships and government grants. I did papers on Archaeological Resource Management, and Arts and Cultural Policy and Administration, as well as Conservation.”
“I didn’t realize that,” I say in admiration, and a little embarrassed that, as her boss, I hadn’t known. That’s because I hadn’t been involved in the employment process. “It’s nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of,” I admit, liking the fact that she’s interested in the same areas as I am.
“You don’t have to do it all alone,” she says softly. “We’ll save the museum, don’t worry. You’ve worked so hard to make it such a beautiful place.”
We study each other quietly for a while. I don’t quite have her faith, but I like that she’s so convinced.
Her gaze dips to my mouth for a moment, and her eyes turn sultry. She’s thinking about kissing me. My pulse picks up and, without thinking, I lift my glasses on top of my hair so Ican focus on her lips. She inhales as she meets my eyes, and our gazes lock. Man, her eyes are beautiful.
“Your eyes are such a gorgeous blue,” she says breathlessly. She studies them in wonder. “They’re a shade lighter than the sky, but they have a dark-blue ring around the outside.”
I rest my arms on the table, leaning closer to her. “Yours are usually so dark they’re almost black, but today in the sunshine they look much lighter. They really are like melted chocolate.”
Time slows and seems to stop for a moment. I’m sure the boats cease to sail on the ocean, and the seagulls are motionless in the sky. I’m acutely aware of the exotic smell of the frangipani growing nearby, and the warm, comfortable aroma of baking pastries from the hotel, mixed with the coconut scent of Hallie’s sun lotion.
It would be so easy to kiss her. To throw all caution like rose petals into the summer breeze, lean forward, and press my lips to hers.
“Oh my God,” she whispers, “Fraser…”
“What?”
“You’re giving me goosebumps.”
I lift my gaze to hers. “I can’t k-kiss you.”
“I know.”
“I want to.” I shouldn’t have admitted it, but the words rise through me like bubbles in champagne, and they pop out of my mouth before I can stop them.
Her lips curve up a little. Then she looks longingly at my mouth. “Ian wasn’t big on kissing.”
Anger and resentment swell inside me with such force it surprises me. “That guy was such a fucking idiot.”
She gives me a wry look. “I know.”
“Hallie, honestly… Why did you stay with him so long?” I’m honestly baffled, and a little bit incredulous.
She drops her gaze then, and I curse myself. It sounds as if I’m criticizing her. Well, maybe I am. I don’t understand why she would be with him for nearly ten years when the guy obviously didn’t appreciate her. Doesn’t she have any self-worth?
And then it hits me like a frying pan around the head. Hallie doesn’t have any self-worth at all. Not an ounce. I don’t know what happened to her in her youth, but I’m guessing it started with whatever occurred with her father. Then she met Ian and clung to him because he obviously afforded her a small measure of comfort. And for some reason, she believed she didn’t deserve better.
She would never have demanded to know why he didn’t kiss her more. Why he wasn’t interested in spending hours making love to her. The guy obviously had his own issues, and it must have made sex a bodily function to be dealt with in a matter-of-fact manner. And she thinks that’s all she deserves.
Well, shit.
I reach out a hand, grasp the back of her chair, and pull it toward me so it slides along the deck. She gasps, laughs, then sobers as I lower my arm around her shoulders.
Turning toward her a little, I cup her face with my other hand. She looks up at me, her eyes so big they’re like saucers.
“I’m going to kiss you,” I tell her. “I shouldn’t, but right now I don’t care, because I can’t bear the thought that you’ve never been kissed the way a woman should be kissed. If you have any objections, you need to tell me now.”
She blinks, then gives a tiny shake of her head.
I study her beautiful eyes, then drop my gaze to her mouth. Her lips part a fraction as she inhales, and she moistens them with the tip of her tongue. Ahhh… I move my thumb to stroke across her bottom lip, thinking about how best to kiss her. The anticipation is one of the best bits. Thinking about how soft her mouth is going to be… how she’s going to taste…
“Fraser…” she whispers. “You’re giving me goosebumps.”
Smiling, I lower my lips to hers.
“I didn’t realize that,” I say in admiration, and a little embarrassed that, as her boss, I hadn’t known. That’s because I hadn’t been involved in the employment process. “It’s nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of,” I admit, liking the fact that she’s interested in the same areas as I am.
“You don’t have to do it all alone,” she says softly. “We’ll save the museum, don’t worry. You’ve worked so hard to make it such a beautiful place.”
We study each other quietly for a while. I don’t quite have her faith, but I like that she’s so convinced.
Her gaze dips to my mouth for a moment, and her eyes turn sultry. She’s thinking about kissing me. My pulse picks up and, without thinking, I lift my glasses on top of my hair so Ican focus on her lips. She inhales as she meets my eyes, and our gazes lock. Man, her eyes are beautiful.
“Your eyes are such a gorgeous blue,” she says breathlessly. She studies them in wonder. “They’re a shade lighter than the sky, but they have a dark-blue ring around the outside.”
I rest my arms on the table, leaning closer to her. “Yours are usually so dark they’re almost black, but today in the sunshine they look much lighter. They really are like melted chocolate.”
Time slows and seems to stop for a moment. I’m sure the boats cease to sail on the ocean, and the seagulls are motionless in the sky. I’m acutely aware of the exotic smell of the frangipani growing nearby, and the warm, comfortable aroma of baking pastries from the hotel, mixed with the coconut scent of Hallie’s sun lotion.
It would be so easy to kiss her. To throw all caution like rose petals into the summer breeze, lean forward, and press my lips to hers.
“Oh my God,” she whispers, “Fraser…”
“What?”
“You’re giving me goosebumps.”
I lift my gaze to hers. “I can’t k-kiss you.”
“I know.”
“I want to.” I shouldn’t have admitted it, but the words rise through me like bubbles in champagne, and they pop out of my mouth before I can stop them.
Her lips curve up a little. Then she looks longingly at my mouth. “Ian wasn’t big on kissing.”
Anger and resentment swell inside me with such force it surprises me. “That guy was such a fucking idiot.”
She gives me a wry look. “I know.”
“Hallie, honestly… Why did you stay with him so long?” I’m honestly baffled, and a little bit incredulous.
She drops her gaze then, and I curse myself. It sounds as if I’m criticizing her. Well, maybe I am. I don’t understand why she would be with him for nearly ten years when the guy obviously didn’t appreciate her. Doesn’t she have any self-worth?
And then it hits me like a frying pan around the head. Hallie doesn’t have any self-worth at all. Not an ounce. I don’t know what happened to her in her youth, but I’m guessing it started with whatever occurred with her father. Then she met Ian and clung to him because he obviously afforded her a small measure of comfort. And for some reason, she believed she didn’t deserve better.
She would never have demanded to know why he didn’t kiss her more. Why he wasn’t interested in spending hours making love to her. The guy obviously had his own issues, and it must have made sex a bodily function to be dealt with in a matter-of-fact manner. And she thinks that’s all she deserves.
Well, shit.
I reach out a hand, grasp the back of her chair, and pull it toward me so it slides along the deck. She gasps, laughs, then sobers as I lower my arm around her shoulders.
Turning toward her a little, I cup her face with my other hand. She looks up at me, her eyes so big they’re like saucers.
“I’m going to kiss you,” I tell her. “I shouldn’t, but right now I don’t care, because I can’t bear the thought that you’ve never been kissed the way a woman should be kissed. If you have any objections, you need to tell me now.”
She blinks, then gives a tiny shake of her head.
I study her beautiful eyes, then drop my gaze to her mouth. Her lips part a fraction as she inhales, and she moistens them with the tip of her tongue. Ahhh… I move my thumb to stroke across her bottom lip, thinking about how best to kiss her. The anticipation is one of the best bits. Thinking about how soft her mouth is going to be… how she’s going to taste…
“Fraser…” she whispers. “You’re giving me goosebumps.”
Smiling, I lower my lips to hers.
Table of Contents
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