His invitation for a walk was a new source of trepidation even as it was well overshadowed by heady desire. By now the outside temperature was likely no more than ten degrees Fahrenheit. Her coat was several city blocks away still hanging uselessly inside her office closet. It hadn’t matched her dress for the evening, and there had been no time to shop for anything more appropriate. The only thing she had on was this single slip of fancy black dress, and boots. She wore no underwear. No bra. Not even hose. The cold air wouldn’t be simply cold, it would burn. Icicles would probably dangle comically from her fingers and cherry nose. Sara the frozen date; a defenseless damsel against the prickling caress of Jack Frost. Not even Bruce would be able to protect her for very long.<br/><br/>Even so, she would follow him out into the bitter night. She was certain that she would follow him anywhere right now. Yep. Sara was foolishly in love with him. A near stranger, still, and Sara was giddy at the thought of spending the night with him. And tomorrow. And then the day after that.<br/><br/>“Yes, please don’t let tonight end.” Words tumbled clumsily from her lips, and she could no longer tell if they were merely her wishful thoughts, or things she sighed out loud. Her forehead rested against his as she spoke, her lips hovering over his, as it had countless times that night. There seemed to be only one word that made sense to her in this moment. Yes.<i>Yes.</i><br/><br/>Yes.<br/><br/>It was becoming impossible to think beyond his presence. Frantic thoughts percolated and bubbled to the surface only to evaporate into thin air. Bruce’s coarse five o’clock shadow dragged lightly along her cheek as his hot breath made her shift willfully closer. His hand traced along the exposed skin of her neck, shoulder, and down her arm until their hands laced and intertwined. Mercy, his hand was so warm as though he was touching her everywhere that wasn’t appropriate for a dining room full of people.<br/><br/>Sara pressed her lips against his, sealing her promise to walk with him even as she started to rise. “Please excuse me for just a moment.”<br/><br/>Her nose scrunched up a bit as she smiled down at the man looking up at her, and without words she nodded toward the small sign posted on the far wall:<i>le signore</i>. Ladies. With a quick wink, she promised to be back quickly as she strolled through the pathways between other tables and diners. Sara couldn’t help but be acutely aware of how she rolled her hips as she walked. Oh goodness! Was she going to draw attention to herself? Was it sexy, or slutty? And suddenly, she looked down to the floor with rapt attention to her stride. Surely, she didn’t do it on purpose! Heels were sometimes tricky, and of course, she was rather unaccustomed to walking with such height under her feet—sprained ankles were not acceptable tonight.<i>Don’t you dare...</i>she warned herself as she pulled the door open and slipped into the small but nicely kept room.<br/><br/>No more than a couple minutes later, Sara washed her hands in the sink, but as she let the warm water gush over her hands she looked back at her own reflection, and the stupid grin that glimmered back. Who was that woman? She looked so… glowing. Her eyes sparkled like the shallow water lapping lazily on a warm beach. This couldn’t be Sara Blum: the pushover workaholic perfectionist. People like her didn’t ever get to have this type of joy. They didn’t get happiness.<br/><br/>She nearly pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. She wanted to pinch, poke, jab, anything to make herself wake up. But that would have just been silly.<br/><br/>Instead, she dried her hands on a luxuriously soft (and likely expensive) paper towel, before popping open her tiny clutch bag. She fished between her cell phone, wallet, and reached with her long fingers down to the bottom of the pouch where she had placed her lipstick. Carefully, she touched-up her lips and blotted them to make sure she didn’t look ridiculous. And, with a slow sobering breath the woman who couldn’t possibly be Sara stepped back into the dining room to rejoin Bruce.<br/><br/>With the business of the check concluded, Bruce was already standing, and holding a small paper bag with handles in his hand when she returned to him. She entwined her arm with his, and they stopped at the table just long enough for her to collect the rose he had given her. This time, she held fast to that rose without dropping it once.<br/><br/>Sara sucked in a harsh breath as she walked up the stairs and onto the dark, sidewalk that sparkled with a thin layer of frost beneath the streetlights. If she gritted her teeth hard enough, she was certain she could keep them from chattering. “So,” she said, trying to smile as she gazed up into cool gray eyes that made her melt every time she looked into them, “w-w-wh-here to, S-s-sir?” When she slipped her arms around him, and snuggled up against his lovely, firm, and oh-so-warm body the cold didn’t seem to matter as much.