The silence echoed in his ears as she hung up her coat then his in the closet.
He waited. He didn’t want a nightcap. He didn’t want coffee and a bit of phony chit-chat on the tastefully pale-green sofa. Her apartment, like her clothing, was a palate of neutrals or pastel shades. No strong statements here—except the woman herself, placing her shoes in the bottom of the hall closet.
Her presence shouted in the neutral room as loudly as a vermillion wall hanging or blaring music.
“God, Cornelia. You’re so—” stepping close she rested a warm finger on his lips.
“I’ve never understood games or small talk,” she whispered from mere inches away. And she replaced her finger with a brush of her lips.
“And I’ve never met a woman who was so forthright.”
“You fascinated me from the first moment, D
