Defy the World Tomatoes (10 page)

“I’m not so different from the next guy. I was born in Atlanta, and my parents still live there. My father’s an attorney, and my mother gives piano lessons. If I visit them for more than a week, I begin to sound like a Southerner again rather than the cultured artist I was trained to be.”

Darcy refused to admit she’d never been able to resist a Southern accent for fear he would use it to his own advantage, and he already possessed too many. “Did your mother teach you to play the piano?” she asked instead.

“Yes. She thought it was cute that I was so fascinated by the music she played, and she began giving me impromptu lessons. By the time I was five, she realized I was the most talented student she’d ever had. When she’d taught me all that she could, she found me a more accomplished teacher, and then another. I completed the last of my training in Europe, although, of course, there will always be more to learn.

“I could have begun a successful concert career in my teens, but I wanted to meet musicians my own age, rather than totally miss the fun of growing up, and so I came home to attend Juilliard. It proved to be a wise choice, for when I began winning international competitions, I was old enough to handle the pressure and deal with the instant fame.”

“You never wanted to do anything else with your life?”

“No. This is what I was born to be. I know it as surely as you knew the day you saw Kate Sessions’ work and decided to landscape fabulous gardens.”

Darcy turned to look up at him. “How did you remember her name?”

“Why are you surprised? I remember everything about you.”

When he inclined his head, Darcy welcomed his kiss, and in the next breath she welcomed whatever his loving might bring. The cost would surely be a broken heart, but not to know such a remarkable man would be an even greater tragedy.

Griffin kissed her until they were both dizzy and then pulled away. “We’ll have to do something about your schedule. When you work seven days a week, there isn’t much time for us to be together.”

Darcy tried not to scream in frustration, but she hadn’t even slept with the man, and he was already trying to run her life. She considered his criticism misdirected, and her posture stiffened.

“Christy Joy and I thought once we got the business running well, we’d each be able to take off a couple of days every week. Unfortunately, neither of us owns a crystal ball, and we didn’t foresee having to move in the fall. That means there won’t be any time off for anyone anytime soon. So before you complain about my frantic schedule, stop to consider why I’m so damn busy.”

Griffin moaned in mock pain. “I’d like a truce on that subject too.”

“How convenient, but if we avoid the inevitable conflicts, all we’ll have is bland co-existence. That won’t leave much room for the passion you pour into your music.”

“My God, Darcy, are you this tough on all the men you date?”

Darcy bowed her head slightly. “No, only the ones I really care about, and you know I’m right.”

Griffin hugged her. “I wish I’d never leased you that damn building.”

“Then Christy Joy and I might not have gone into business together. I’d not have moved here from LA, and we’d never have met.”

“So you see this real estate disaster as a good thing?”

“Yeah, in some strange twisted sort of way, it is.”

With a gentle hold, Griffin picked her up and set her on her feet. “Finish your dinner, and then we can negotiate some ground rules.”

Darcy sat in her chair, but left the broccoli untouched. “Everything was delicious, but I’m full.”

“Fine, but I’m still hungry.” Griffin scraped the carton to slide the last bit of walnut shrimp onto his plate, then added some fried rice. “I was afraid I’d not brought enough, but you didn’t eat very much.”

“I’m not even half your size, Griffin, it’s only natural that I’d eat less.” She sipped her tea and watched him eat. He had as fine manners as she’d expected and didn’t once lick his fingers.

When Griffin finally finished, he tossed Darcy a fortune cookie. “I hope it says you’ll meet a tall, dark and handsome stranger.”

“I’d prefer tips on what to do with him.” Darcy cracked her cookie in half and pulled out the paper fortune. She scanned it quickly and began to laugh. “Get promises in writing. How apropos. What does yours say?”

“You will get a lucky break,” Griffin responded. “I’d say I already have. What if I look for a new building for you? Would that make dating me easier to bear?”

Darcy reached for her tea and took a long swallow. “I wonder if that’s one of the promises I should get in writing.”

“Probably not. After all, I just offered to look, not to provide a new location.”

“True.” Darcy watched a sly smile play across his lips and wished he would kiss her again. She knew if she were to return to his lap, he would, but she remained seated in her chair.

“You’re used to getting your own way,” she cautioned, “and people have noted that I tend to be a bit stubborn.”

“Clever observation, but like every couple, we each have flaws.” Griffin stood and began clearing the table. “Let’s put the leftovers in the frig, and then I’ll help you with the dishes.”

A man who did dishes. Darcy shook her head in amazement. “No way. You brought dinner, so I’ll handle the clean up.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“I’m not sure what I want,” Darcy confessed truthfully.

“Then it’s definitely time for me to go.” He brushed her cheek with a quick kiss and headed toward the door.

“Wait a minute.” Darcy left her chair, but lingered beside the table. “Now I feel as though I’ve said the wrong thing.”

Griffin took a step toward her. “When you compliment the passion in my music, I can forgive you almost anything.”

“You can forgive me? Is there no end to your arrogance?”

Griffin crossed the distance between them and looped his arms around her waist. “Probably not,” he confessed with a deep chuckle. “Just kiss me good-night, and I’ll leave you to the dishes.”

It was impossible to argue with a man who acknowledged his faults, and Darcy reached up on her tiptoes to kiss him. She was soon lost in his embrace and, once again, he was the one to end the dozen kisses that had followed the first. She couldn’t think clearly with him so near, only long for more, but she refused to beg.

Griffin waited for her dazed gaze to clear and then stepped back. “I can see what you’re thinking, but I doubt I’d fit in your bed.”

“Your imagination has to be better than that.” Darcy struggled to stifle a yawn and failed. “I’m sorry. We had a really busy day.”

Griffin caressed her cheek tenderly. “Why don’t you come home with me? Then you’d be there tomorrow morning.”

Darcy shook her head. “It’s too soon.”

“Can’t be soon enough for me,” Griffin whispered against her kiss-swollen lips.

The man always smelled good and tasted better. She slid her arms around his waist and held on as his kisses melted away all thought of resistance. She was dizzy with desire when, with a gentle hug, he briefly lifted her off her feet, while he scarcely seemed affected by her affection.

“Come to my house at eight o’clock, and I’ll make breakfast for us. We can eat out on the terrace and pretend we’re in Italy.”

Darcy tried to breathe deeply enough to form a coherent reply. “Fine, but the view of the Pacific will be enough for me.”

He squeezed her hands and this time made it through the door before he looked back. “Don’t stay up too late.” He winked and was gone.

Darcy slumped back down in her chair. Griffin turned her insides to jelly, but her head was still telling her to slow down. She knew it was wise to make romantic decisions with her heart and business decisions with her head, but he mixed her up so completely she couldn’t separate her emotions from her anxious thoughts.

“It’s the damn brown eyes,” she finally swore, and it took her a long while to gather the strength to do their few dishes.

Darcy awoke a dozen times during the night. In an attempt to soothe her jangled nerves, she got up and made herself another cup of tea. But when she crawled back into bed and fell asleep, she was awake again within the hour.

It was all Griffin’s fault. What he offered was adventure of the most intoxicating sort, but as she lay in her rumpled bed, she longed for a steady soul mate rather than a famed pianist who would surely use her up and spit her out before she’d learned the names of his favorite composers.

By the time her alarm went off at seven, she was relieved to get up. She made her bed, showered and washed her hair, then searched her closet for something Griffin hadn’t already seen. At last she found a pale green velour sweater and matching jeans she’d worn last spring and forgotten.

Enormously relieved not to have to visit him in overalls, she pulled on pale lavender lingerie, slipped on the green outfit with bronze flats and thought she looked pretty cute. Unfortunately, as she walked to her office, she felt like unraveled yarn.

She usually loved the stillness of the new day in Monarch Bay, but that morning the seagulls were noisily circling overhead. She picked up the promised sketches and noted the eight o’clock appointment on her wipe-off board. Her hand shook so badly she had to erase the message twice and try again, but the third effort was clearly legible. As she left for Griffin’s, she glanced up at the gulls and hoped their raucous din wasn’t a dire warning.

She hadn’t been so nervous around a man since high school when she’d had a desperate crush on a popular football player, and her friends had pressured her to invite him to the winter dance. It had taken her a week of stomach-churning torment to work up the nerve to dial his telephone number.

When he’d answered, she’d issued a well-rehearsed but stammering invitation. He’d sounded surprised to hear from her and, as unsophisticated as she, he’d told her how excited he was to be going to the dance with one of the cheerleaders.

The brief conversation had left her thoroughly humiliated, and she hadn’t asked another man out on a date from that day to this. She hadn’t thought of high school in years, but that morning, she felt as awkward and lost as she had at sixteen.

Griffin answered the door dressed in Levi’s and a charcoal gray silk shirt. He looked well-rested, greeted her warmly and quickly drew her inside. “On my way home last night, I began to wonder if you ever consider the view from the house rather than from the street when you make your initial sketches.”

“Yes, I do, but with the sea at the back and the mountains at the front, I imagine anyone gazing from your home would find the distant view more appealing than a beautifully landscaped yard.”

“They might, but just humor me and come on upstairs.”

“Is this another pitch for the bathroom tour?”

“No, but you’ll be sorry you put it off when you finally see them. The master bath has wisteria sculpted into the tile work that is especially fine.”

“Wisteria? Well, that does it. Let’s go.” Darcy would have agreed to view anything to avoid looking at him when he was so handsome it hurt.

“Ladies first.” Griffin gestured toward the stairs and followed her up. “Turn left at the top. My room is at the end.”

Darcy felt him trailing close behind and tried to focus on the beautifully carved handrail. “Even without furniture, there’s a real warmth to this house.”

“Yes, I felt it the first time I came here.”

Darcy paused at the top of the stairs and glanced both ways before turning left. “How many bedrooms are there?”

“Seven up here. There’s a maid’s room off the kitchen and two full apartments over the garage for additional staff.”

His door was closed, and Darcy waited for him to open it. The room was painted the color of chocolate milk with a bold area rug in chocolate and cream beneath a king-sized bed covered with a cream-colored spread. The furnishings were dark, obviously expensive and starkly modern, as were the paintings. It was a thoroughly masculine room, as though the owner had given no thought to adding a woman’s tender influence to his life.

A set of double doors led to a walk-in closet and another to the promised bath. French doors opened out on a balcony overlooking the sea. It was a room as spectacular as its owner, and Darcy forced herself to concentrate on wisteria as Griffin opened the bathroom door for her.

The bathroom was huge, with a tub, separate shower and a glossy black marble floor. A long mirror covered the wall above the black marble counter holding the double sinks and reflected the pale mauve tile trimmed with black. It was a stunning room, and the tile work was indeed superb, but as Griffin’s gaze caught hers in the mirror, she saw only him.

He leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms over his chest. “The decorator couldn’t find towels in an exact match for the tile, so he went with black. He apologized profusely, but frankly, a towel is a towel to me.”

Darcy watched a trickle of water left from his morning shower lazily careen down the clear glass enclosure. “Black is good for a man.”

She went to the window looking out on the sea and traced the pattern in the tile below. “Maybe we could plant a wisteria at the base of the bedroom balcony to echo this theme.”