Lady Moonlight (3 page)

Just one week and a few hours later, she and Judy were being welcomed to a rambling house perched on the cliffs above the Pacific. Judy was in a black-and-white, hip-hugging chemise that was a perfect foil for her dark hair and honey-tanned skin. Kara had chosen a graceful ice-pink dress of crystal-pleated georgette with a wide, square neck and full sleeves ending in deep cuffs. It fell in a soft sheathe to just below her knees.

Dane Logan, lounging near an open window listening to the muted roar of the ocean, stiffened in surprise and watched as Kara turned at the sound of a familiar voice. With a warm smile, she joined a tall, bony man with bright blue eyes. Reaching up, she tugged lightly at a strand of brown hair that drooped over one eye.

"Gary, I think it's time to invite you over for a home-cooked meal again," she said, eyeing him critically.

"I knew my fatal charm would get to you someday," he said calmly.

"Right," she agreed. "Aside from that, no one else can keep my ferns and fuchsias looking the way you do."

"So it's really my green thumb that you love."

She stretched up to give him a quick hug. "Among other things." They grinned at each other, then parted as someone else called her.

Managing to keep well behind her, Dane followed as Kara made her way from one room to another. He watched her meditatively. The poised beauty before him was a far cry from the hoyden who had tumbled into his truck. Her silvery hair was arranged in a graceful swirl that seemed to have no visible means of support. And she was no kid.

Kara was stopped every few feet either to greet friends or acknowledge an introduction. Her natural ebullience drew others like bees to honey. The sound of her husky laughter drifted to him, as someone described an amusing incident.

Judy, who had taken an alternate route, met Kara near a spreading green plant that would have intimidated a normal-size room. "Don't look behind you," she murmured, turning to admire large, shiny green leaves, "but someone dark and determined has been following you since we got here."

Obediently not looking over her shoulder, Kara stared straight ahead into a mirror and met a silvery-green gaze. "Oh, Lord," she murmured, closing her eyes, hoping the apparition would fade before she opened them.

When she did, and it hadn't, she turned to Judy.

"Let me introduce you," she said brightly.

"Your rescuer?" The question was redundant.

Kara's description had been remarkably graphic.

"Hm-hmm."

"You don't know his name, remember?"

"I'll find out! I'll bring him over," she decided, avoiding the mirror.

"Don't bother," Judy said in amusement. "He's saving you the trouble. He's on his way."

"Terrific," was Kara's weak response. She grabbed her friend's arm. "Remember what I said," she ordered. "He's just your type. You'll be crazy about him!"

"Kara, we both know the kind of men I like, but that one is too much of a good thing. Besides, he's looked right through me several times, and he still doesn't know I'm in the room." She edged away with a grin, forcing Kara to drop her hand. "But he's been eyeing you like a hungry lion who's just found a juicy chunk of meat. I'm removing myself from the line of fire, but I expect a full report on Monday."

"Some friend," Kara mumbled to the space Judy no longer occupied. Oh, come on, she lectured herself in the instant before she turned to face him. It won't be that bad. You say hello; he says hello. You make a clever remark about the incident last week, and he smiles. You thank him again; he nods. You say good-bye, so does he, and that's it. She mustered up a smile and turned.

"Hello."

He looked down, resisting the temptation to touch her hair and see if it was as baby soft as it looked.

Instead, he asked, "Are you about ready to eat?"

"What?" She might have known he wouldn't follow a script, she told herself in resignation.

"Are you hungry?"

She nodded. "I'm starved. I haven't eaten since this morning."

"Neither have I. Will you have dinner with me?"

So much for Judy's interpretation of his hungry look, she thought. "You mean, sit with you?" she asked, aware that a lavish buffet was being set up in the next room.

"It's customary."

The man is a complete enigma, she decided, puzzling over his comment. Her response was polite and untruthful. "Thank you, that'll be nice."

"Good. Let's go." One large hand touched the small of her back and nudged her toward the door.

"We're walking away from the food," she pointed out.

"I wasn't talking about salads made from whipped cream, tissue-thin slices of ham, and funny meatballs the size of grapes. I want a steak. Big and thick and rare."

"You mean at a restaurant?" She dug her high heels into the deep pile of the rug and stopped.

"Bright girl." The slight pressure of his hand increased, urging her forward. She halted again as the door closed behind her. "Now what's the matter?" he asked, when she wouldn't budge.

She backed up against the house, arms folded across her chest. "I'm not going. I don't even know your name. A perfect stranger hauls me out of a house and expects ..."

He propped a large hand on the wall behind her, just a few inches above her shoulder, and rested his weight on it. His mustache twitched. "I have it on good authority that I'm not perfect."

"You'd better watch it," she warned. "In a minute you're going to break down and smile."

"Dane Logan's the name. Apparently we both own businesses in La Jolla. Can we eat now, or do you need a formal introduction?"

"We eat," she said impulsively as her stomach rumbled. "Where's your car?"

They walked down the curving street past an unself-conscious array of cars ranging from small, economy models to discreet and blatant symbols of wealth.

Dane stopped and opened the door of a sleek, black Porsche. As he walked around to his side, Kara wondered fancifully which of his vehicles most truly exemplified the man. The slim, darting and deadly rapier, or the slashing strength of the broadsword?

Before putting the car in gear, he turned to her and asked, "Do I guess, or do you tell me? There is such a thing as reciprocity, you know." At her questioning look he said, "Your name."

"Ah." Buckling her seat belt, she said concisely, "Kara Brady. Born and raised in La Jolla. Twenty-five, single and part owner of Cachet, world-famous gift shop."

Dane checked the rearview mirror and pulled neatly out of the parking space. "World famous?"

"Will you settle for locally renowned?" He nodded, slowing as he approached a steep curve. "The ball's back in your court. Time for more reciprocity," she informed him, savoring the word.

He concentrated on the traffic, eventually turning onto La Jolla Boulevard before he replied. "I've lived in a lot of places, recently settled here. I'm thirty-three and a contractor."

"You left out the part about being single, engaged or involved," she prompted.

"Is it important?"

"Yes, because I only go out to dinner with men in the first category."

"Which leaves intriguing possibilities for the other two."

"Tonight's invitation," she reminded him as he slid neatly into a parking slot behind the restaurant, "was for dinner. Nothing else, intriguing or otherwise."

He walked around the car and opened her door. She looked up, not moving. "Single?" she prodded.

"Single," he agreed absently, reaching for her hand.

Later, watching him demolish his steak as she greedily downed her teriyaki chicken, she decided that he was more than an enigma. His preferred modes of transportation, at least the ones she had witnessed, were poles apart. Reflecting on that at length brought her to the conclusion that there was a common denominator-power. And just look at his clothes, she prodded herself. An ebony blazer made of soft, supple suede, gray slacks, a white-on-white shirt, and a splash of yellow silk for a tie. The combination was nothing short of elegant, and yet he managed to look aggressively masculine. Exactly as he had looked last week in his jeans and cotton work shirt.

Continuing her survey, she eyed his stubborn jawline and determined chin. He had proved that he remained cool in an emergency. He would more than likely follow the path of logic, and be rational, reasonable and levelheaded. He would issue orders and expect them to be followed without question. Definitely a man to be avoided. Oh, sure, he was undoubtedly the answer to some maiden's prayers, but not hers. If she were going into battle, she'd want him on her side, but the last thing she needed was a man like that complicating her life.

Having reached that decision for the second time, she touched her napkin to her mouth and looked up as Dane spoke.

"You told me you were single. You didn't say if you were engaged or otherwise involved with a particular man."

"Is it important?" She grinned as she repeated the question he had asked earlier.

"Yes." His green eyes flashed silver as his smile slowly curved his mustache. His voice was soft, but perfectly audible, as he added, "I only go to bed with women in the first category."

Warily, she faced him across the width of the table. She spared a moment to remind herself ruefully that he was also the type to speak his mind. Too bad she hadn't thought of that sooner. She might have been able to divert him. Then, taking another glance at his calmly assessing expression, she decided it wouldn't have made any difference.

Carefully placing her napkin beside her plate, Kara lifted her glass and downed the remainder of her wine in a couple of gulps. Fortified by a surge of warmth, she said, "This restaurant is wonderful, the meal was delicious, but your approach definitely needs a bit of polish. On a first date you should be subtle and charming. You definitely don't use the iron-fist-in-the-iron-glove method."

"But this isn't really a date. It was an emergency."

At her skeptical look, he explained. "Two starving people were faced with a buffet. Drastic action had to be taken. Now, tomorrow," he continued, "will be another story."

She cleared her throat. "Tomorrow?"

He nodded. "Tomorrow will be an official date. I'll do my best to be charming. I should warn you, though, that I've never been big on subtlety."

"I could have guessed that," she murmured as he dropped several bills on the small tray that had accompanied the tab.

"I think we need to get a few things straightened out," she said as they strolled toward the parking lot.

"Where's your car?" he interrupted.

"At home. I went to the party with Judy. My partner," she said in response to his questioning look.

"Look, about tomorrow ..."

"Where do you live?" he asked, tucking her in the front seat and closing the door. Settling in behind the steering wheel, he turned and waited.

Kara briefly closed her eyes and sighed. Later, she decided. When he had taken her home and she had his undivided attention, they would talk. "Go back that way," she gestured. "Turn left at the light and go up the hill."

He swung into the stream of traffic and a few minutes later pulled up in front of an attractive complex of Town Homes. It resembled a vast Spanish hacienda, with whitewashed walls, red tile on the broken roofline, and an abundance of arches and decorative black wrought iron.

"Nice, isn't it?" Kara asked proudly.

"I've seen a couple of the units," was the noncommittal response.

"And?" When he hesitated, she said hastily, "Never mind. I don't think I want to know."

"They're well built for the price, and attractive. But the security is lousy. I could get in any one of them with a toothpick."

"Too bad they only issued us keys," she said coolly, releasing the seat belt and opening the door. "Think of the fun you could have had." His leisurely stride kept pace with her brisk steps down the center courtyard.

Relenting, she said, "Actually, you're right. The other night I had a housewarming party-I've only been here for a few weeks-and some of the guys said the same thing. So we tried an experiment. My girlfriends and I locked the men out and secured the house. The object being, of course, to see if any of them could get in."

Her brows knitted in a scowl at the bland certainty in his voice. "How long did it take?"

"Only a few minutes. Five of them got in. Each a different way."

"That should give you some idea of how quickly a pro could do it."

"It did. You'll be happy to know that my security has been beefed up. We even formed a neighborhood watch system. Then I put new locks on the windows, dowels in the track of my sliding door and an alarm."

"What kind?"

"I don't know what it's called, but it seems to do everything but wash the dishes. It has water sprinklers ...."

"To drown a burglar, I assume."

"And an alarm that's guaranteed to wake everyone in the complex," she finished, ignoring his dry comment. "As a matter of fact, a friend of mine was installing it when I left this evening."