A Man to Believe In by Deborah Harmse Page A

her knee skimmed his thigh and her pulse leapt into her throat. And when he leaned closer to whisper comments into her ear, his warm breath feathered over her skin and sent tiny shivers up her spine.
    For the first time ever, Cori found herself wishing a ballet would end. She wanted—needed—to be alone with Jake.
    After the way he’d kissed her when they were surrounded by people, she had to wonder what would happen when they were finally alone again. The answer that came to mind caused a ripple of anticipation to roll through her, and surprise dissolved into acceptance. By now she knew exactly what to expect from the man.
    His seduction had started the moment he’d held out the bouquet of daisies, and had continued without mercy—with a sexy smile here, a tender touch there, a kiss when she’d least expected it—until the hunger building inside her all evening could no longer be ignored.
    From the moment she’d met Jake she’d been trying to label her feelings toward him as mere physical attraction, but what she felt was far more complicated than that. The more she got to know him, the more she admired him. He was a successfulbusinessman—she’d begun to notice his company signs on huge projects all over the city—and a caring employer. He was a loving son and a responsible man his mother and sisters learned they could depend on after Martin Tanner had left them high and dry.
    Cori had to admit it. Jake was a great guy. Sexy as sin too. Most women would jump at the chance to have a relationship with him. Which was exactly what she was about to do.
    Cori watched the male lead execute a magnificent jeté and her heart took a soaring leap as well. Why deny it? She wanted Jake. She wanted him soon.
    Jake glanced down at the illuminated hands of the watch he’d inherited from his grandfather and bit back a nasty oath. Was this damn thing never going to end? He didn’t know how much more he could take. Every time he touched Cori his heart hammered louder in his chest. Any contact with her, however innocent, seemed to send him into a tail-spin.
    He’d considered hauling her out of there in the middle of the third act and kissing her senseless in the lobby, but rejected the idea immediately. That would never work. For one thing, as much as he hated ballet, he knew Cori loved it. She would never forgive him for making her miss the pas de deux of the Bluebird and Princess Florine. And on a more practical level, a few kisses in a dark corner of the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion would never be enough to satisfy him. He needed to hold her, touch her, feelher naked skin beneath his hands. He needed to make love to her. Soon.
    Jake heard his grandfather’s voice counseling patience and let loose a frustrated sigh. He’d waited this long. What was another half an hour, more or less?
    Moonlight streamed in through the kitchen window. Soft-glowing embers were all that remained of the roaring fire Jake had built when they’d first arrived, and the bottle of chardonnay they’d picked up on the way home from the ballet was nearly empty. They’d been back at her place for over an hour, and he hadn’t made a pass at her yet.
    Not one.
    Cori wanted to scream.
    Instead, she took a sip of wine and set the glass down next to her on the braided rug. “Pass me the popcorn, please.”
    From his position on the floor in front of the fireplace, Jake handed her the bowl. “Not much left.” He rolled from his side onto his back and positioned a navy-blue pillow beneath his head. Firelight played over the rugged features of his face, creating mysterious shadows.
    She fished through the unpopped kernels in the bottom of the bowl, salt and butter clinging to her fingers. “The only ones left are the old maids!”
    “Appropriate, don’t you think?”
    Cori looked up to find him watching her, a devilish gleam in his eyes. “Explain yourself, mister.”
    She watched him loop his fingers together as he slipped his hands under his head and