A Kiss To Remember

Whirling, she went to snatch it back, but he was too quick for her, slipping it into his trouser pocket. Angie glared at him. No way was she going to try to retrieve it from there!

Her cheeks burning, she spun back to the console and scooped everything but the keys into her still open bag. Picking up the keys, she dangled them in the mirror on the wall for him to see. ‘These are what I was looking for. But do keep the condom, Lance, No doubt you’ll be needing it before the night is out. A superstud like yourself won’t have any problem finding some pretty little thing to oblige you.’

‘Do you always carry condoms around with you?’ he asked as she zipped up her bag and rammed it under her arm.

Angie turned to glare at him, livid at the look of hypocritical reproach on his face. ‘Why not?’ she flung at him, her defiant expression reminding her of Debbie that afternoon. ‘A girl never knows when she’s going to get lucky, after all.’ Rather enjoying his ongoing air of shock, Angie lifted her chin proudly, then hurried down the hall and out through the front door.

The sight of a sleek black car parked behind hers in the driveway, barring her escape, brought a groan of dismay to her lips.

‘Blast,’ she muttered. ‘Someone parked their damned car behind me.’

‘I wouldn’t think you should be driving anywhere,’ Lance said quietly from behind her. ‘You’re obviously drunk.’

Now she really lost her temper. ‘And why, exactly, must I be drunk?’ she fumed, spinning round and planting furious hands on her hips. ‘It wouldn’t be because I’ve chosen to leave your not so salubrious company, would it? Or because I’ve decided to be the exception and not surrender to your oh, so irresistible charm this evening?’

‘No,’ he returned calmly. ‘It’s because I’ve finally realised you’ve been acting totally out of character ever since I arrived. Now, why would that be, I’m beginning to wonder?’

Her slow handclap reeked of sarcasm. ‘Bravo, Lance. You’ve had virtually nothing to do with me for nine years and you claim to know what my usual character is. Believe it or not, old friend, a girl changes somewhat between fifteen and twenty-four. This is me these days, Lance,’ she said, scooping off her covering jacket with one hand, clasping her bag in the other then twirling round so that he could see every inch of her provocative dress. ‘It wouldn’t be that you can’t cope with your “sweet Angie” being sexually active, would it? Even nice girls do, Lance. And I do—quite often, in fact!’

The moment the lie was out she regretted it. Crazy as it was, she hated seeing the disappointment in Lance’s face.

Or was it something else she glimpsed behind those suddenly clouded eyes of his? Maybe it was... defeat?

The idea of Lance feeling anything like defeat bewildered Angie. Yet his shoulders were beginning to sag and there was an air of wretchedness about his slightly slumped form.

Maybe, she conceded with great difficulty, maybe he was more upset about his marriage break-up than she’d believed. Maybe he’d really been in love with his wife...

As much as Angie hated that idea, it showed that Lance was capable of feeling deeply about a woman. Bud had had little to do with his friend since their marriages, so his old opinion of Lance’s character might be totally out of date. Angie herself had just made the point that people changed. Well, maybe Lance had changed as well.

She’d no sooner starting thinking sympathetic thoughts about him than he snapped out of his dejected demeanour, straightening up and throwing her a ruefully sexy smile.

‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘I’m being somewhat of a hypocrite. You’re only young once, and you’re just as entitled to sow your wild oats as anyone else. Any reason why you can’t sow some of them with me?’

Angie just shook her head. So much for Lance having changed.

‘Nope?’ he mocked. ‘Oh, well, can’t blame a guy for trying. Come for a drive with me, then?’

Angie stamped her foot in total exasperation. ‘What is it with you? Can’t you see I don’t want to go anywhere with you? I just want to go home. If I knew who owned that damned car I’d get him to move it and—’