Page 12 of The Art of Loving Lacy
He thought again of why he hadn’t gone to see her for all those months. He knew now that he’d been right to worry that once he was with Lacy he’d never be able to turn away. Like Treat had done for Max, Dane would do whatever it took to be with Lacy.
Chapter Five
A BREEZE WHISPERED across Lacy’s bare body. Every nerve tingled, and her fatigued muscles were unable to respond to the chill on her skin. From where she lay next to Dane in their hidden nest on the dune, she saw a halo around the moon. In her mind, words danced in quick succession—Wow. Amazing. So hot.The feel of Dane moving closer beside her—their arms touching, his thigh flush with hers—sent a chill through her.
“Lace,” Dane whispered.
“Yeah?”I love your voice.
“I didn’t plan for that to happen.”
The sincerity in his voice tugged at her heart. She turned her head, his features slowly coming into focus against the darkness. “I know.”
He touched her thigh with his hand, and she froze.
“You don’t need to flinch when I touch you.” He squeezed his warm palm against her scarred thigh.
Lacy almost never thought about her scar—or the incident that had caused it. Theincident, that’s what she and her sisters called it. She’d been only seven when the shark had grazed her leg. She closed her eyes and willed the thoughts away as she’d done so many times before. Usually, men who happened to notice her scar and ask about it were eager for a quick answer and a change of subject. Dane wanted more. He wanted to know the truth, but she wasn’t ready to share it with him. She took his hand in hers, raising it off of the patchy, rough skin that covered the upper part of her right thigh. She’d told him that she thought she might be afraid of sharks, but she hadn’t shared why, and as he touched her thigh, the admission hung on her tongue, but fear swallowed it down. She wanted a relationship with Dane, and if she could keep her fear at bay, she just might have a chance.
He came up on one elbow and kissed her softly. Lacy closed her eyes as he touched her cheek with one hand and released her hand with the other, resting it on her scar once again.
“Dane.” Her heartbeat quickened. She reached for his wrist, but he held firm.
“Shh. You’re beautiful,” he whispered. Then he kissed his way down her side to her thigh. He ran his finger along the long, thin grooves that marred her thigh. Slowly, he followed each pattern, which swam fast and deep in some places and rode the surface in others.
As he traced the deeper grooves, Lacy closed her eyes, losing sensation for a few seconds as Dane’s fingers traveled the paths she’d worked so hard to forget. When his warm lips touched her thigh, she held her breath and squeezed her eyes shut, disappearing into the quiet, dark place she’d learned to escape to when the memories came rushing back. She concentrated on the sounds of the waves, the salty sea air, anything but the feel of Dane touching, exploring, and caressing her scar.
“Wanna tell me about it?” he asked. Moving away from her scar, he laid his head on her belly.
“I’m getting a little cold,” she lied, warmed by the heat of his body against her. He lifted his head and returned her gaze. Lacy held her breath again, expecting him to push her for answers—answers she didn’t want to think about. She was too happy. She’d waited months to be with Dane, and as she looked into his eyes, silently hoping he’d let it go, she didn’t know how she’d make it through a day, a week, or a year without seeing him again.
He pulled her close and rubbed his hand thoughtfully along her back. “Let’s get you back inside.”
She let out a relieved sigh and reached for her dress. Dane stopped her from pulling it over her head and first gently brushed the sand from her legs, her butt, and her back. He ran his fingers through her hair, shaking free the sand crystals, and warmed the back of her neck with tender kisses. Then he took her dress and slipped it over her head and tied the halter.
“Here,” he said, placing his jacket around her shoulders. Then he stepped into his pants and put on his shirt, leaving the top buttons open, his curly dark chest hair peeking out.
He’s too handsome. Too kind.He must have some fault she was missing.
He held out his hand. “Shall we?”
They walked through the cool sand toward the lights of the inn. Worries sailed through Lacy’s mind: What now? Would he act like nothing had happened when they were with his family? Should she?
As if he’d read her mind, he asked, “Will you still be my date tomorrow?”
When he smiled, Lacy’s pulse ratcheted up a notch again. “Are you sure?”
Dane stopped walking and touched her cheek. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my whole life.”
He stepped closer, and the memory of his kiss brought a smile to her lips.
“Lace, I’m happier than I have been in a very long time,” Dane said.
Her heart soared. “Me too.”Me too? What is wrong with me?
“Then, it’s a date.”
They stopped to retrieve their shoes. Dane slipped his fingers into the straps of her heels, then picked up his dress shoes and carried them in one hand, never letting go of her hand with the other.
