Analisa watched the man saunter to the register to pay for his meal. He was tall and gorgeous, and from the way he looked around the restaurant, he knew it. It was as though he expected everyone's eyes to be on him. And most of them were, both women's and men's.
Analisa was below his radar, though. Far below. Plain and frumpy, she was beneath the notice of most men. And those who did notice her tended to be the kind she'd rather not speak to. In real life, attractive men looked right through Analisa.
But in their dreams, it was a different story.
Analisa studied the man, committing every detail to memory. His wavy brown hair, athletic build. Tailored suit, indicating that he made better than a decent living. His cocky attitude. He would be perfect.
On the way out, he stopped at Analisa's table. "You've been staring at me," he said.
"Have I? Sorry if I made you uncomfortable." Analisa mentally recorded his voice. "I'm sure you're used to it, though."
He chuckled. "I do attract attention, for sure. And you weren't making me uncomfortable. I was just wondering why the staring?"
"As you said, you attract attention."
"All right, then. Have a nice day."
"You too."
The man walked away. Only then did it occur to Analisa that he might have been waiting for a compliment. Or even for her to proposition him in some way. Damn it. She never caught on when men were interested in her. She didn't have the experience, or the confidence. Not in real life, anyway.
Analisa finished her meal, paid her check, and went home. It was early evening, too early to dream. She didn't have much to occupy her time, just housework and TV, but that was enough to keep her going until nearly midnight. Surely the man from the restaurant would be in bed by then.
In her room, Analisa changed into one of her satiny, sexy nighties. No one ever saw her in them, but she loved the feel of them against her body. The slippery satin never failed to harden her nipples and make her wet. A perfect state for the dreams.
She sat on her bed. Closing her eyes, she brought to mind an image of the man from the restaurant. What did he wear to bed, she wondered. Did he share his bed with anyone? What did his home look like?
Slowing her breathing, Analisa brought herself to a near-trance. Her mind's image of the man became more vivid as she slipped into another state of consciousness. The dream state. Now she could go to him.
The man was in the woods, sitting in front of a small campfire. He was clothed in a flannel shirt and tight jeans that accentuated his muscular legs. He looked up, startled, when Analisa appeared. "Where did you come from?" he asked.
"You tell me," Analisa replied. "This is your dream."
"I..." He looked around. "I was dreaming about being alone in a peaceful place. No one around. And yet here you are. You're the girl from the diner, aren't you? The one who was staring?"
"That's me." Analisa sat beside him. "It's beautiful here. The stars are so bright, and the woodsmoke smells wonderful. It's a very romantic setting. What a shame you were all alone here."
"I'm not alone now. Though I'm not sure how that happened."
"Anything can happen in dreams. My name's Analisa."
"I'm Derek." He extended his hand. "Pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise." Analisa took his hand, but instead of shaking it, squeezed it gently. She loved feeling a man's skin, the heat of his body, even if it was only his hand. Even if it was only a dream.
"It's a nice night." Derek looked up at the sky. "I love looking at the stars. I used to camp all the time when I was a kid. Then I grew up, and I just haven't had the time. Too many responsibilities; too many people."
"Too many women?" Analisa teased.
"Definitely too many women. Sometimes I really think I need to slow down. Settle down with a woman who isn't all about the looks."
"There are women like that."
"I know. They just never seem to find me." Derek looked at her. "It was very peaceful here before you came along. I should be irritated at the interruption, but I don't mind you being here with me. You intrigue me. That must be why I'm dreaming about you."
"Must be." Let him think it was his own subconscious that had conjured her here. If he thought it was his idea, it would be much better.