She wore no makeup, he couldn't detect any perfume, and the only jewelry she had on was a pair of tiny pearl earrings. Her off-white sweater was bulky and loose, and he was willing to bet her pants were also baggy.
There was absolutely nothing about her that courted notice. She wasn't anything like the females he went for. And she held his attention like a marching band.
"Hello, Mary," he said softly.
He was hoping she would look back up at him, because he hadn't been able to catch enough of her eyes. And he couldn't wait to hear her voice again. The two words she'd spoken had been so quiet and not nearly enough.
He stuck his hand out, itching to touch her. "I'm Hal."
She let his palm hang between them as she reached for her purse and started to scootch her way out of the booth.
He planted himself in her path. "Where are you going?"
"Look, it's okay. I won't tell Bella. We'll just pretend we had dinner."
Rhage closed his eyes and tuned out the background noise so he could absorb the sound of her voice. His body stirred and calmed, weaved a little.
And then he realized what she'd said.
"Why would we lie? We are going to have dinner together."
Her lips tightened, but at least she stopped trying to escape.
When he was sure she wasn't going to bolt, he sat down and tried to get his legs to fit under the table. As she looked at him, he stopped shifting his knees around.
Dear God. Her eyes didn't match the gentle lilt of her voice at all. They belonged to a warrior.
Gunmetal gray, surrounded by lashes the color of her hair, they were grave, serious, reminding him of males who had fought and survived battle. They were staggeringly beautiful in their strength.
His voice vibrated. "I am so going to... have dinner with you."
Those eyes flared and then narrowed. "Have you always done charity work?"
"Excuse me?"
A waitress came over and slowly put down a glass of water in front of him. He could smell the female's lusty response to his face and his body and it annoyed him.
"Hi, I'm Amber," she said. "What can I get you to drink?"
"Water is fine. Mary, do you want anything else?"
"No, thanks."
The waitress stepped a little closer to him. "Can I tell you about our specials?"
"All right."
As the list went on and on, Rhage didn't look away from Mary. She was hiding her eyes from him, damn it.
The waitress cleared her throat. A couple of times. "You sure I can't get you a beer? Or maybe something with a little more kick? How about a shot - "
"We're fine, and you can come back later for the order. Thanks."
Amber took the hint.
When they were alone, Mary said, "Really, let's just end - "
"Have I given you any indication that I don't want to eat with you?"
She put a hand on top of the menu in front of her, tracing the picture of a plate of ribs. Abruptly she pushed the thing away. "You keep staring at me."
"Males do that." When they find a female they want, he added to himself.
"Yeah, well, not to me they don't. I can imagine how seriously underwhelmed you are, but I don't need you focusing on the particulars, know what I mean? And I'm really not interested in enduring an hour of you taking one for the team."
God, that voice. She was doing it to him again, his skin flaring with shivers and then settling down, loosening. He took a deep breath, trying to catch some of her natural, lemony scent.
As silence cropped up between them, he nudged her menu back at her. "Decide what you're going to order, unless you just want to sit there while I eat."
"I can leave anytime I want."
"True. But you won't."
"Oh, and why's that?" Her eyes flashed, and his body lit up like a football stadium.
"You're not going to bail because you like Bella too much to embarrass her by walking out on me. And unlike you, I will tell her you ditched me."
Mary frowned. "Blackmail?"
"Persuasion."
She slowly opened the menu and glanced at it. "You're still staring at me."
"I know."
"Would you mind looking somewhere else? The menu, that brunette across the aisle. There's a blonde two booths back, in case you haven't noticed."
"You don't ever wear perfume, do you?"
Her eyes flipped up to his. "No, I don't."
"May I?" He nodded to one of her hands.
"Excuse me?"
He couldn't very well tell her he wanted to smell her skin up close. "Considering we're having dinner and all, seems only civil to shake hands, doesn't it? And even though you shut me down the first time I tried to be polite, I'm willing to give it another shot."
When she didn't answer, he reached across the table and took her hand into his. Before she could react, he pulled her arm forward, bent down, and pressed his lips to her knuckles. He breathed in deeply.
His body's response to her scent was immediate. His erection punched at the fly of his leathers, straining, pushing. He shifted around to make some more room in his pants.
God, he couldn't wait to get her home alone.
Chapter Twelve
Mary stopped breathing as Hal released her hand. Maybe she was dreaming. Yeah, that had to be it. Because he was too gorgeous. Too sexy. And way too focused on her to be real.
The waitress came back, getting as close to Hal as she could without actually being in his lap. And wouldn't you know it, the woman had freshened her lip gloss. That mouth of hers looked like it had had an oil change with something called Fresh Pink. Or Curious Coral. Or something equally ridiculous.
Mary shook her head, surprised she was being so bitchy.
"What can I get you?" the waitress asked Hal.
He glanced across the table and lifted an eyebrow. Mary shook her head and started flipping through the menu.
"Okay, whadda we got here," he said, opening his own. "Let's have the Chicken Alfredo. The NY strip, rare. And a cheeseburger, also rare. Double on the fries. And some nachos. Yeah, I want the nachos with everything on them. Double that, too, will you?"
Mary could only stare as he closed the menu and waited.
The waitress looked a little awkward. "Is all that for both you and your sister?"
As if family obligation was the only reason a man like him would be out with a woman like her. Oh, man...
"No, that's for me. And she's my date, not my sister. Mary?"
"I... ah, I'll just have a Caesar salad, whenever his" - feeding trough? - "dinner comes."
The waitress took the menus and left.
"So, Mary, tell me a little about yourself."
"Why don't we just make it about you?"
"Because then I won't hear you talk."
Mary stiffened, something bubbling below the surface of her consciousness.
Talk. I want to hear your voice.
Say nothing. Over and over and over again. Do it.
She could have sworn this man had said those things to her, but she'd never met him before. God knew, she would have remembered that.
"What do you do for a living?" he prompted.
"Er... I'm an executive assistant."
"Where?"
"A law firm here in town."
"But you did something else, didn't you?"
She wondered how much Bella had told him. God, she hoped the woman hadn't brought up the illness. Maybe that was why he was staying.
"Mary?"
"I used to work with kids."
"Teacher?"
"Therapist."
"Head or body?"
"Both. I was a rehab specialist for autistic children."
"What got you started in it?"
"Do we have to do this?"
"Do what?"
"All the let's-pretend-to-get-to-know-you stuff."
He frowned, leaning back as the waitress put a huge plate of nachos on the table.
The woman bent down to his ear. "Shhh, don't tell anyone. I stole these from another order. They can wait, and you look very hungry."
Hal nodded, smiled, but seemed uninterested.
She had to give him credit for being polite, Mary thought. Now that he was sitting across the table from her, he didn't seem to notice any other women at all.
He offered the plate to her. When she shook her head, he popped a nacho in his mouth.
"I'm not surprised small talk annoys you," he said.
"Why's that?'
"You've been through too much."