Page 80 of Making Over Maris

She found she enjoyed this…domesticity. Hell, she enjoyed all of this. Not just Jack serving her but that he enjoyed pleasing her.

She didn’t drink much, taking a cue from him. Neither of them knew what was coming, how this evening would unfold. She needed to be alert. But she did have a couple sips. To calm her nerves. She felt poised on the razor’s edge.

So much was riding on this.

Somehow it had come to mean so much to her.

The world.

Sara sighed and set down her fork. Her plate was empty. “That was lovely.” She toyed with the stem of her wineglass and peeked at him beneath her lashes.

Jack shifted restlessly. Okay. Dinner was over. It had gone well. The cake sat on a platter in the kitchen, ready to be served.

But he didn’t want any. He wanted to get on with whatever it was she had planned. Unfortunately he didn’t know how to broach the subject. He had the sense she was nervous too. He would let her take the lead.

Hell, he had to let her take the lead. Didn’t he?

He wasn’t sure. He’d never done this before.

After a moment of silence, he asked, “The scallops were good?”

“Delicious.”

“And the asparagus?”

“Also delicious.”

He fiddled with his fork. Okay. Maybe he wasn’t a little nervous. Maybe he was a lot nervous. “Would you…like some more?”

She patted her belly. “I’m fine. That was perfect.” She became, once again, fascinated with the stem of her wineglass. “Jack?”

“Yes?”

“Tell me. What did you…what did you think of the book?” Her voice was a low purr.

He flushed. Ah. There it was. “I liked the book. I told you that on the phone.”

She nibbled her lip. Stroked the slender stem. He fixated on the sight. “Have you ever done anything like that?”

He swallowed heavily and shook his head, unable to form words.

“Would you like to try it now?”

“Now?” A squeak. Anxiety whipped through him. His pulse thrummed. “Don’t you want dessert?”

Something simmered in her eyes. All traces of apprehension burned away. Burned away by a scalding lust. “No, Jack. Maybe later. I think it’s time for the quiz, don’t you?”

The breath whooshed from him. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” She tipped her head to the side.

“Okay. Yes.”

She smiled and stood. God, she looked hot in that skintight suit. “Get the book.”

He leaped to his feet and sprinted into the living room, grabbed the book from the coffee table and headed for the bedroom.

Her chuckle stopped him.