Songbird (4 page)

“
Well—”
Don’t you have
eyes?
a small voice taunted in the back of her mind. The man’s an eleven on a scale of ten. What are you thinking? Go out with him!

“
I promise you I’m harmless.” He flashed her a boyish grin, raising his right hand in the traditional Boy Scout salute. “Trustworthy, honest and obedient. Scout’s honor.”

She couldn’t stop her laugh. His smile radiated warmth and friendliness. You’ll like me, it said. I already like you. She paused a moment, admiring his high sculpted cheekbones and the fine laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. When her gaze rested on the gracefully angled bridge of his nose, she fought a sudden urge to run her finger down its narrow slope to the place near the tip where it dipped and turned up just the tiniest bit.

“
Is it anything of critical importance?” he persisted. “Or could you get out of it?”

She considered. She hated to play right into Barbara’s hands, but maybe her friend was right. She ought to enjoy some male company for a change. Since he lived so far away, it would be all on her own terms. Dinner only, with no danger of involvement, and no strings attached.

She looked him straight in the eye. “I was going to fly to Washington for a late supper with the President, but I suppose I could call and cancel.”

“
Dinner at the White House? Is that all? And here I was afraid it was something really special.”

She shrugged, smiling. “That kind of invitation is rather run-of-the-mill. And let’s keep our priorities straight. How often do I have the opportunity to dine with a soda-pop king?”

***

Kyle waited for her in the lobby until her shift ended at six o’clock. Fortunately, she found Barbara had gone for the day. Questions would certainly come tomorrow, but for now she was spared the embarrassment of a confrontation.

Since Desiree needed to change her clothes before dinner, Kyle followed in his car while she drove to the small house she rented in Garden Grove.

As he stood behind her on the front steps, Desiree unlocked the door and pushed it open a crack. She peered through the small opening into her living room, unsure in what condition she’d left the place. Cheeks flaming, she whirled around, yanking the door shut behind her. Her body collided with his in a sudden sharp impact, completely knocking the breath from her.

“
Oh! Sorry!” Kyle grabbed her by the shoulders, not retreating an inch.

“
You can’t go in there,” she gasped, pinned between him and the door.

“
Why not?” His hands gripped her shoulders firmly as he looked down at her.

“
It’s a battlefield.”

“
I’m sure I’ve seen worse. Don’t worry about it.”

He stood so close she felt the warmth emanating from his body, and felt his breath, warm and sweet, on her cheek. She pressed her back against the door, tilted her head back slightly, and looked up at him. “Trust me, you don’t want to see it. Several people died there this morning, and the bodies haven’t been cleared away yet.”

He laughed. “It doesn’t matter.” His eyes roved slowly over her face, lingering for a long moment at her lips as if they were a mouth-watering dessert just out of his reach. His voice was somewhat rough when he spoke again. “I don’t care, really. I didn’t exactly give you much warning.”

Her shoulders, under the pressure of his fingers, began to tingle, sending magnificent shooting sparks throughout her body. She was aware for the first time of the faint scent of a very pleasant masculine cologne. She closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his hands, the sense of his nearness. If only her living room wasn’t such a mess, then he could come inside. She’d like to have him in her house. In her living room. In her—

No, Desiree!
she cautioned. He’s gorgeous and witty and incredibly sexy, but for God’s sake, don’t get carried away. Tomorrow he’ll fly back to his work and his life in Seattle, and you’ll be back to your comfortable, uncomplicated…boring…lonely…routine.

She took a deep breath. “The thing is, there’s…the dog.”

He relaxed his grip on her shoulders and stepped back. “The dog?”

“
A vicious Doberman. Trained to attack strange men on sight.”

He studied her for a moment with narrowed eyes, clearly aware that she was vamping. “Would it really embarrass you that much if I saw the way you keep house?”

“
It really would.”

“
Why?”

“
Because...” She hesitated, her shoulders still tingling from the remembered pressure of his fingers. “I don’t want you to think—”

“
Think what?”

She sighed in resignation. “That I’m a slob.”

“
I won’t think that. I won’t pass judgment, I promise.”

“
Okay. But remember: I warned you.”

Gritting her teeth, her stomach quietly tying itself in knots, Desiree turned the knob, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.

She could have died. She wished she wasn’t so disorderly. She preferred tabletops and counters to be clear and things to be organized and put in their places. She just couldn’t seem to get herself to do it on a regular basis.

Various items of discarded clothing lay draped across the back of the flowered chintz sofa. A wing chair in a French blue-and-apricot print held a basket of clean laundry waiting to be folded. To her mortification a pair of panties and a lacy bra peeked out noticeably from the center of the pile.

Numerous pairs of shoes and sandals lay under the antique mahogany coffee table and at either side of the couch and chair. Magazines and books lay scattered on every surface, and partially filled water glasses on cork coasters seemed to be everywhere—on the ornate carved credenza, on the end table, even on the mantel over the brick fireplace.

When would she grow out of that habit of taking a glass of water with her everywhere she went? And when would she learn to stop taking her shoes off and leaving them wherever she happened to be sitting? What was this man going to think of her?

Kyle took a step inside and paused, his lips set in a noncommittal line. But the expression in his eyes as they swept the cluttered room could only be called mild dismay. When she saw his gaze drift to the kitchen, where she’d stacked last night’s dinner dishes and pots on the counter, the color rose in her cheeks.

“
I’ll bet you’re a neat freak. One of those folds-his-underwear-in-the-drawer types.”

He nodded silently.

“
I was afraid of that.” She wanted to disappear into thin air, to start the day over again. Why had she ever agreed to this dinner date? It was madness! She scooped an armful of clothes off the sofa and crumpled it into a tight ball against her thudding chest.

Any kind of relationship, even a short-term one, wasn’t supposed to begin this way. A man, on seeing a woman’s home for the first time, was supposed to be overwhelmed by its charm, impressed by her impeccable taste in furniture and decor. Well, she’d certainly impressed him...he was speechless!

“
I told you it’d be a disaster,” she said. “I’m sorry. All I can say in my own defense is…it’s not always this bad.”

His smiled returned and he glanced at her with contrition. “Please, don’t apologize or feel embarrassed. It’s my fault. This has all been very impromptu. You weren’t expecting visitors, and I shouldn’t have been so pushy. But…truth be told, this makes me feel right at home.”

“
Really?”

“
I have five sisters. To this day, every one of them is a bit... relaxed about keeping house, you might say.”

“
Five sisters? How on earth—” did you ever turn out so incredibly, indisputably masculine, she wanted to say. Instead, she finished quickly: “How did you ever survive?”

“
Being the only son, I got royal treatment. My own room. Special outings with my dad. It was great.”

She was grateful for his easygoing manner and apparently intentional effort to change the subject. “I just have one brother. Growing up in a big family must have been a lot of fun.”

“
It was fun.” He sat down on the edge of the couch and absently arranged the scattered magazines and books into neat stacks. “I enjoyed playing Big Brother to a house full of beautiful women. My sisters are terrific. All of them, especially the twins.”

“
Twins! How wonderful. I used to dream I’d have twins of my own some day.” Unintentionally, her eyes swept to his chest. Firm pectoral muscles rippled in sharp relief beneath his white summer dress shirt. Despite herself, she found herself imagining what that chest might look like without a shirt to cover it.

“
Maybe you will.” His voice brought her eyes up to meet his with a guilty start. Maybe she would what?

She stepped over to the credenza and turned on her stereo, letting the soft music of KICK-FM fill the room. “I hope you like mellow music.”

“
If I don’t, I’m taking out the wrong girl.”

“
You have a point.”

He studied the carved legs of the coffee table appreciatively. “Your furniture is beautiful. Is this an antique?”

“
Yes. It belonged to my great-grandmother. All of this did. Do you like antiques?”

“
I usually go for the more modern stuff, but I admire the craftsmanship on these old pieces. Especially the hand carving.”

“
If you like carving, you should see the detail work on the headboard of my four-poster bed. It’s—” She broke off, blushing. Why did she say that? It almost sounded like an invitation.

“
I’d love to see it.”

“
No!” She realized she had shouted the word, and softened her voice. “The bedroom’s even more of a disaster than the living room.” She took several steps backward. “I’ll go and change. Oh, can I get you something to drink?”

“
No, thanks.” He indicated two half-filled water glasses on the coffee table. “I’ll just help myself to some of this if I get thirsty.”

She choked back an embarrassed laugh. “I’ll be back in three minutes.” Turning, she fled down the hall. If she survived this evening with her sanity intact, it’d be a miracle.

***

I’m only going out with this man once, Desiree thought, as she fastened the tiny buttons up the front of her lavender cotton sundress. So I might as well do it right.

What was it Barbara had said? In the right dress...with your hair up...you’d be as glamorous as hell. Well, the dress was far from glamorous, but it was the best she could do. The flared skirt, trimmed at the hem by a long ruffle with matching crocheted lace, made her feel dainty and feminine, and the form-fitting bodice accentuated her tiny waistline. The deep orchid color contrasted with her fair complexion and seemed to bring a healthy glow to her face.

She pulled on high-heeled white sandals and picked up her brush, running it fiercely through the curls that cascaded over her shoulders. She never wore her hair up. How would it look? She threw her head forward, grabbed the thick mass of hair and twisted it into a bun on top of her head. Holding the bulky knot in place with one hand, she pulled a few wispy tendrils of hair down around her forehead and ears. Standing up, she surveyed the effect in the beveled mirror above her dresser.

She looked ridiculous. Like a midget balancing a ball on her head.

Sighing, she shook her head vigorously, letting her hair fall into place in its natural side part. On a sudden impulse, she pulled out a delicate gold pendant from her jewelry box and fastened it around her neck.

When she returned to the living room, she found Kyle thumbing through a magazine, one arm draped across the back of the sofa, his legs stretched out in front of him. He’d buttoned his shirt and had put on a grey-and-blue-striped tie, which he must have brought in from his car. The last beams of fading sunlight streaming in through the front window burnished the gleaming bronze and copper highlights in his hair. He looked totally natural and completely at ease, as if he made a daily habit of waiting in strange women’s living rooms while they dressed for dinner. As she wondered if that was true, she thought he looked right somehow, relaxing there on her couch, as if he belonged there.

She smiled. “Glad to see you made yourself at home.”

He tossed the magazine aside and looked up at her, his eyebrows lifting in admiration. He let out a low whistle. “Wow! You look terrific. I like your dress.”

“
This dress?” She felt her cheeks glow with pleasure, but couldn’t quite bring herself to meet his gaze. Fingering a corner of the long ruffled hem, she said, “It’s just an old thing. I’m sorry I don’t have anything more chic, but—”

“
You mean something in electric-blue silk, open in the back, cut just off the shoulder?”

The color in her cheeks deepened. “Something like that.”

“
I prefer what you’re wearing.” He sprang up off the sofa with an athletic grace and covered the distance between them in a few quick strides. Tilting his head to one side, he regarded her the way an artist might study a painting. “That’s a beautiful pendant.”

“
Thank you.” She fingered the golden charm at her throat. Her favorite piece of jewelry, it depicted a tiny robin perched on a branch, singing its heart out to the sky. A small diamond twinkled in its eye.

“
A songbird,” he said. “Just like you.”

His admiring gaze sent warmth spiraling through her and she couldn’t help but smile. “It’s over a hundred and fifty years old.”