She moved close to him and popped a hip out to brush against his hand.

He smiled.

Putting a hand on each side of the recliner, she did several torso rolls; the sequins and fringe became a sparkling blur in constant movement. She knew that she was putting more sexiness into the dance than she had ever done before. It was belly dance and pole dance combined, but she loved the hot desire in his eyes.

His eyes locked with hers and a fine bead of sweat popped out on his upper lip.

She stood up, locked her fingers above her head, and turned her back to him, hips rolling from one side to the other. So he was hot, was he? Well, her skin was on fire from the way he looked at her. If his eyes could do that to her, she could hardly imagine what sex would be like.

Raylen reached out, but she moved away like she’d done so many times when a man tried to touch her.

She swirled in front of his eyes, the scarf becoming fairy wings. One moment it flirted with his face and the next it was gone.

When the music ended, the shawl was dragging behind her and their eyes were locked together in a heated gaze that said only one thing would ever put the fire out.

“You are amazing,” he whispered hoarsely.

She tangled her fingers in his thick dark hair and then stood back away from him. She extended her hand, and he let her lead him down the hallway to a bedroom.

Was it possible to have wings and have roots too? she wondered as she closed the door with her bare foot.

***

The next morning, she awoke to the smell of fresh coffee brewing and crawled out of bed. She belted a robe around her waist and felt a blush as she walked out into the kitchen to find Raylen making pancakes.

“Raylen, you need to know that I’m not a slut. I don’t fall into bed with any man that winks at me,” she said.

He kissed her forehead. “I know that, Liz. I can see it in your eyes.”

She searched his face and his eyes. “I believe you. Then, this is not a one-night stand?”

He poured a mug full of coffee and put it in her hands. “I hope not. I want to see you again. This could be the beginning of something wonderful. But please promise me you won’t dance like that for another man.”

“I’ve danced for years, Raylen, but that was a special dance and I promise I won’t do it just like that for anyone else.”

Chapter 8

Liz picked a clean apron from a hook inside the kitchen wall of the café and wrapped it around her waist, bringing the ties back around to tie in the front. She loaded the pocket with an order pad and two pens, poured a cup of black coffee, and sat down at the table.