“Lesley?” Chase prompted.

“It’s nothing,” Lesley said, forcing herself to smile.

The waiter came just then, to Lesley’s relief, and they ordered. Their dinner was wonderful, but she’d expected nothing less from this restaurant.

Afterward, they caught the streetcar and returned to the waterfront. On the short ride, Lesley regaled Chase with the history of the vintage streetcars, which had been brought from Australia.

“This is Tasmanian mahogany?” Chase repeated.

“And white ash.”

“I’m impressed by how well you know Seattle’s history,” Chase said when they climbed off the streetcar.

“I’m a teacher, remember?”

Chase grinned and it was a sexy, make-your-knees-weak sort of smile. “I was just wondering why they didn’t have anyone as beautiful as you when I was in school. I only ever seemed to have stereotypical old-maid teachers.”

Lesley laughed, although his words struck close to home. Too close for comfort.

“How about taking that ferry ride?” Chase suggested next.

“Sure.” Lesley was game as long as it meant their evening wouldn’t end. She didn’t want it to be over so soon, especially since she’d done most of the talking. There were a number of questions she wanted to ask Chase about Alaska. Normally Lesley didn’t dominate a conversation this way, but Chase had seemed genuinely interested.

As luck would have it, the Winslow Ferry was docked and they walked right on. While Lesley found them a table, Chase ordered two lattes.

He slid into the seat across from her and handed her the paper cup. Lesley carefully pried open the lid.

“I’ve been doing all the talking,” she said, leaning back. “What can you tell me about Alaska?”

“Plenty,” he murmured. “Did you know Alaska has the westernmost and easternmost spots in the country?”

“No,” Lesley admitted, squinting while she tried to figure out how that was possible. She guessed it had to do with the sweep of islands that stretched nearly to the Asian coastline.

“We’ve got incredible mountains, too. Seventeen of the twenty highest mountains in the entire United States are in Alaska.”

“I love mountains. When we’re finished with our drinks, let’s stand out on the deck. I want to show you the Olympics. They’re so beautiful with their jagged peaks, especially at this time of night, just before the sun sets.”

A short while later they went onto the windswept deck and walked over to the railing. The sun touched the snowcapped peaks, and a pale pink sky, filled with splashes of gold, spilled across the skyline.

“It’s a beautiful night,” Lesley said, holding on to the railing. The scent of the water was fresh and stimulating. The wind blew wildly around her, disarranging her hair. She tried several times to anchor it behind her ears, but the force of the wind was too strong.

Chase stood behind her in an effort to block the gusts. He slipped his arms around her shoulders and rested his jaw against the top of her head.

Lesley felt warm and protected in the shelter of his arms. There was a feeling of exquisite peace about being in this place with this man, on this day. This stranger had helped her more in the few hours they’d been together than all the wisdom and counsel her family and friends had issued in months.

“Let him go,” Chase whispered close to her ear.

A thousand times Lesley had tried to do exactly that. More often than she cared to count, more often than she wanted to remember. It wasn’t only her day-to-day life that was interwoven with Tony’s, but her future, as well. Everything had been centered on their lives together. She couldn’t walk into her home and not be confronted by memories of their five-year courtship.

The bookcases in her living room had been purchased with Tony. They’d picked out the sofa and love seat together, and a hundred other things, as well. Even her wardrobe had been bought with him in mind. The dress she was wearing this evening had been purchased to wear to a special dinner she and Tony had shared.

“I want to go back in now,” she said stiffly, and wondered if Chase could hear her or if he’d chosen to ignore her request. “It’s getting chilly.”

He released her with obvious reluctance, and in other circumstances his hesitation would have thrilled her. But not now, not when it felt as if her heart were melting inside her and she was fighting back a fresh stab of pain.

“I’m sorry,” she said when they returned to their seats.

“Don’t be,” Chase said gently. “I shouldn’t have pressured you.”

Lesley struggled for the words to explain, but she could find none. Some days her grief was like a room filled with musty shadows and darker corners. Other days it was like a long, winding path full of ruts. The worst part of traveling this road was that she’d been so alone, so lost and afraid.

The ferry docked at Winslow and they walked off and waited in the terminal before boarding again. Neither seemed in the mood to talk, but it was a peaceful kind of silence. Lesley felt no compulsion to fill it with mindless conversation and apparently neither did Chase.

By the time they arrived back at the Seattle waterfront, the sun had set. Chase held her hand as they took the walkway down to street level, his mind in turmoil. He should never have asked Lesley to let go of the man she loved. It had been a mistake to pressure her, one he had no intention of repeating.

“Where are we going?” she asked as he led her down the pier. The crowds remained thick, the traffic along the sidewalk heavy even at this time of night. The scents of fried fish and the sea mingled.

“Down there,” he said, pointing to a length of deserted pier.

It was a testament to her trust that she didn’t seem at all nervous. “There’s nothing down there.”

“I know. I’m going to kiss you, Lesley, and I prefer to do it without half of Seattle watching me.”

“Aren’t you taking a lot for granted?” she asked, more amused than offended.

“Perhaps.” But that didn’t stop him.

Not giving her the opportunity to argue, he brought her with him and paused only when he was assured of their privacy. Without another word, he turned her toward him. He took her hands and guided her arms upward and around his neck. He felt a moment of hesitation, but it was quickly gone.

He circled her waist with his arms and pulled her to him. At the feel of her body next to his, Chase sighed, marveling when Lesley did, too. Hers was a little sigh. One that said she wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing.

He smelled her faint flowery scent. It was a sensual moment, their bodies pressed against each other. It was a spiritual moment, as well, as though they were two lost souls reaching toward each other.

For long minutes, they simply held each other. Chase had never been with a woman like this. It wasn’t desire that prompted him to take her into his arms, but something far stronger. Something he couldn’t put words to or identify on a conscious level.

He longed to protect Lesley, shield her from more pain, and at the same time he was looking to her to end his loneliness.

Chase waged a debate on what to do next—kiss her as he’d claimed he would or hold her against him, comfort her and then release her.

He couldn’t not kiss her. Not when she felt so good in his arms.

Slowly he lowered his head, giving her ample opportunity to turn away from him. His heart felt as if it would burst wide open when she closed her eyes and brought her mouth to his.

Chase wanted this kiss, wanted it more intensely than he could remember wanting anything. That scared him and he brushed his lips briefly over hers. It was a light kiss, the kind of kiss a woman gives a man when she’s teasing him. The kind a man gives a woman when he’s trying to avoid kissing her.

Or when he’s afraid he wants her too much.

He should’ve known it wouldn’t be enough to satisfy either of them. Lesley blinked uncertainly and he tried again, this time nibbling at her slightly parted lips.

This wasn’t enough, either. If anything, it created a need for more. Much more.

The third time he kissed her, he opened his mouth and as the kiss deepened, Chase realized he’d made another mistake. The hollow feeling in his stomach returned—the feeling that fate was about to knock him for a loop.

Sensation after sensation rippled through him and his sigh was replaced with a groan. Not a groan of need or desire, but of awakening. He felt both excited and terrified. Strangely certain and yet confused.

Lesley groaned, too, and tightened her hold on him. She’d felt it, too. She must have.

His hands bracketed her face as he lifted his head. This wasn’t what he expected or wanted. He’d feared this would happen, that he’d be hungry for her, so hungry it demanded every ounce of strength he possessed not to kiss her again.

They drew apart as if they were both aware they’d reached the limit, that continuing meant they’d go further than either of them was prepared to deal with just then. Their bottom lips clung and they pressed their foreheads together.

“I…” He couldn’t think of any words that adequately conveyed his feelings.

Lesley closed her eyes and he eased his lips closer to hers.

“I want to see you again,” Chase said once he’d found his voice, once he knew he could speak without making a fool of himself.

“Yes” came her breathless reply.

“A movie?” That was the first thing that came to his mind, although it was singularly unimaginative.

“When?”

“Tomorrow.” Waiting longer than a few hours would have been a test of his patience.

“Okay. What time?”

He didn’t know. It seemed a bit presumptuous to suggest a matinee, but waiting any longer than noon to see her again seemed impossible.

“I’ll give you my phone number,” she said. “And my cell.”

“I’ll call you in the morning and we can talk then.”

“Yes,” she agreed.

“I’ll walk you to your car.”

He didn’t dare take hold of her hand or touch her. He’d never felt this way with a woman, as if he’d lose control simply brushing her lips with his. All she needed to do was to sigh that soft womanly sigh that said she wanted him and it would’ve been all over, right then and there.

They didn’t need to walk far. Lesley had parked in a slot beneath the viaduct across the street from the aquarium. He lingered outside her door.

“Thank you,” she whispered, not looking at him.

“Dinner was my pleasure.”

“I didn’t mean for dinner.” She looked at him then and raised her hand, holding it against his face. Softly, unexpectedly, she pressed her mouth to his.

“I…don’t know if I would’ve made it through this day without you.”

He wanted to argue with that. She was strong, far stronger than she gave herself credit for.

“I’m glad I could help,” he said finally, when he could think of no way to describe the strength he saw in her without making it sound trite. He wished he could reassure her that the man she loved had been a fool to let her go, but she didn’t want to hear that, either. Those were the words he knew others had said to her, the counsel she’d been given by family and friends.