Chances & Choices by Helen Karol Page A

she's not even in your league when you put your mind to it," and then his lips came down on her own.
    His comment and his slow, drugging kiss dispelled her annoyance and she participated equally in the embrace.  The hand that did not hold her purse moved up to his shoulder and then to his hair, her fingers encurling the waves she had wanted to touch in the studio.  She was so immersed in the kiss, she didn't hear the doors open, and she didn't part from him until she heard an embarrassed cough.
    Blushing furiously, she walked between the two men who had observed the kiss, Julian following.  They were out on the street, the heat of the day hitting them, before she looked up to find him completely unperturbed.
    "You're not the least bit embarrassed, are you?"
    "Why should I be?  It was only a kiss.”
    "You really don't mind being caught in a clinch like a couple of teenagers?"
    He stopped and looked down at her face from which the flush was only now beginning to recede.  "Foolishness is acceptable in others as well as the young.  It's forgiven in three categories.  Youth, fools...and lovers."
    Claire drew her eyes away from his intent gaze, mumbling, as they began walking again.  "We're not really lovers, not in the complete sense."
    "The term encompasses a lot more than just sex," was his rather dry answer.
    They didn't speak again until they were in the entrance of the restaurant and Claire asked him softly.
    "Are we lovers, Julian?  You've never actually told me you love me, only intimated it.
    "Maybe that's because I'd like to be sure I'll hear you say it back when I do," he said, neatly landing the ball back in her court.
    She was saved from replying as the hostess arrived at that moment and once seated, their conversation turned to other matters.  Claire was not to forget his challenge, however, and in the end it was to prove unnecessary.  Because, when the time came, it was she who would be the first to say the words.
    When they returned to the office after a leisurely lunch, Delia was bent over papers.  She hardly looked up when they entered and Julian sent her only the most perfunctory of glances.  Claire felt just a little silly.
    Over lunch they had conversed amiably and their mood was familiar, lacking tension or coolness.  Walking into the middle of the studio, she didn't notice he clicked the lock softly behind him.  Stretching elegantly to dispel the lethargy created by the delicious and large meal she had eaten, she undid the buttons of her jacket.
    "Phew, it's hot in here.  Don't you have air-conditioning?"
    Removing his jacket and draping it over one of the straight-backed chairs, he answered her inquiry.  "Yes, but it's on low.  It's old and if I turn it up higher the noise tends to get on my nerves.  I'll turn it up if you want," unbuttoning his cuffs and turning them up over his forearms as he made the offer.
    Claire shook her head; loosening the blouse and undoing the top button to cool her throat.  "No, it's alright, I feel comfortable now."
    Julian hid a smile and crossed over to sit in the armchair he had occupied during the morning, hitching up one pant leg at the knee, before bending the leg and resting it casually on his other knee.  He loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt, before placing his hands behind his head while he observed Claire cross to the desk, which faced him at an angle against the wall.  She cleared a space and sat down on top of it, crossing her legs at the ankle, swinging them backwards and forward slightly as they dangled a few inches above the floor.
    "So, Ms. Fitzpatrick do you have any more grilling questions to ask me?"
    She laughed.  "No, I set such a smart pace this morning we got through everything pretty quickly.  “She paused, humour directed inwards in her eyes.  I guess I did overdo it a bit.  Sorry."
    "It's alright.  What I mind is you were so worried about giving me preferential treatment, you went to the other extreme.