Lady Moonlight (10 page)

❧

Twenty minutes later, she bit back a smile as Harpsichord crossed the finish line a neck ahead of Dane's choice.

In the next race, they actually selected the same horse. "Surprise, surprise," Kara said. "Why did you choose her?"

"Because everything indicates that she should win. Why did you?"

"Because I know she's going to win," Kara said, trying not to sound smug.

"You're just learning to figure the odds, and you're too ornery to admit it."

"Me? Ornery? It must be the company I'm keeping. I've always been compliant, agreeable, oozing the spirit of goodwill from every pore, a veritable vessel of ungrudging ..."

Dane halted, turned her to face him and met her smiling lips with his own. "And you talk a lot, too," he murmured, when he finally lifted his head. Ignoring the people rushing by to place their bets, he held Kara close, watching as her expression of dazed pleasure turned to one of wrath.

"Dane Logan! If you think ..."

He steered her back to their seats, his deep voice overriding hers. "I don't think; I know. You can't hide your response to me. You shiver when I touch you, and I can feel the explosion when we kiss. You're too damn stubborn to admit it, but it's there. As usual, though, it's neither the time nor the place to settle the issue. But soon, damn soon, we'll find a place where your walls aren't falling in on us, where your aunt and dead uncle aren't sending cryptic messages, and where we aren't surrounded by a crowd like this. Then we'll do something about it."

Kara sat down, moodily reflecting that he was right.

Why couldn't the good-natured Terry have caused even a mild stir of excitement in her? Or any of the other men she had dated over the years? Why did it have to be this one? Why a man who was driven crazy by her impulsive nature and was quietly determined to change her?

She stared at the track, absently noting that their horse was two lengths ahead. And just what did he mean, "'We'll do something about it"? She shook her head. No way, Mr. Logan. That would lead to nothing but a lot of trouble.

What had ever happened to her vow to avoid him? she wondered. Then she remembered. He had happened to it. He had taken over, telling her when he would pick her up and where they would go. Soon, she promised herself, she would learn how to get one step ahead of him and stay there.

His voice interrupted her silent declaration.

"Should we go get our money?"

Dane's brows rose questioningly as she nodded, flashed him a sunny smile and walked lightly beside him. He looked down at her, wondering what dire plots were running through her head. She was far too agreeable for his peace of mind.

❧

Two hours later, Dane drove the Porsche out of the parking lot. Kara upended her bag and filled her lap with bills of various denominations.

"Where do you want to stash your loot?" he inquired.

"Would you mind driving to the shop? I can put it in the safe. Besides, there are a couple of things I want to take care of," she said absently.

"I thought it was your day off?"

"It is, but I was kept busy out in front this week, and I have to finish some things in my workroom. My gosh! I've got twenty-seven hundred dollars!"

"I know," he said dryly.

"Now I don't have to go to Caliente next week. I'll just take the money down instead."

"Then the day wasn't a total loss. I can't think of anything more frustrating than watching your method of picking one winner after another, but it was worth it to keep you away from Caliente."

"Not a method," she corrected, ignoring the rest of his statement. "Intuition."

He muttered something that sounded like "Arrgh!"

"Still not convinced?"

"No."

It's a good thing he's a good loser, Kara thought. Because he'd lost a bundle. They had spent the rest of the afternoon disagreeing over which horses would win. She had never realized that there were so many variables involved in betting. He had concisely explained each one, bet his money and promptly lost it.

He was persistent, she had to give him that. He never lost confidence in either his knowledge or his evaluations. Too bad they didn't work.

By some miracle Dane found a parking place within walking distance. He would have known it was her shop even without the six massive ferns doing sentry duty by the outside windows. The half-round, scalloped awnings were sparkling white, flanked by lacy, white wrought-iron railings. Hanging baskets of fuchsias supplied brilliant splashes of color. It was feminine and very classy. A distinctive sign above the door read Cachet.

Next door was a large, outdoor flower shop, over-flowing with luxuriant shade plants of all varieties.

Kara exchanged waves with Gary, the owner. Dane recognized the man from the Business Association charity dinner. If he remembered correctly, Kara had offered him another home-cooked meal. He idly wondered how long it would take to edge all those hungry men out of her life.

"Come on, I want you to meet Judy and Beth."

Kara slipped her arm impulsively through his as they stepped through the door.

Beth's eyes widened as she took in Dane's lean, masculine grace as he towered over Kara. "Judy's in the office," she informed them, blinking as Dane acknowledged the introduction. Her lips pursed in a silent whistle as she turned and watched them walk away.

Judy looked up as the door opened. Her blue eyes were bright with interest as Dane nodded politely, for all the world as if she were someone's maiden aunt, she thought, then returned his shimmering gaze to Kara's animated face.

Judy looked absolutely gorgeous, Kara decided.

Her black hair was pulled back in a glistening knot, the severe style enhancing her high cheekbones and expressive eyes. Just the sophisticated type to attract Dane. It was only fair to give Judy a chance with him, she thought virtuously.

After they had chatted idly for a few minutes Kara made her move. "I have to do some things in the workroom. It'll take me about an hour." Reaching for the doorknob, she turned back casually. "Judy, how about offering Dane some coffee and entertaining him for a while?"

Dane was on his feet before Judy could open her mouth. "I noticed that you were doing your book-keeping when we interrupted you," he said, looking down at her. "I won't take up any more of your time. I'm sure we'll see each other again soon."

They exchanged amused smiles and two sets of expectant eyes returned to Kara.

"I'll just follow along with you," he said evenly. "I'm interested in seeing your workroom."

Kara cast a fuming glance at her partner and led Dane into the narrow hall. She ignored the sound of muffled laughter coming from behind the closed door.

Swinging open the next door, she turned on the lights and waved Dane in. His astonished gaze swept the room, then settled on her face. "This is your workroom?"

"I kept trying to tell you that I wasn't completely helpless, but you wouldn't listen. Who do you think does all the display work around here? How do you suppose I manage to work with glass and other mediums without some knowledge of tools?"

Dane wandered over to a pegboard-lined wall. A businesslike array of tools, clamps and brushes was neatly held in place by hooks.

"What's this?" He flexed an unusual pair of grips.

"Grozing pliers. You're in my stained-glass section. They're used to trim away jagged edges and to shape pieces of glass for better fitting." She moved to his side and pointed to various items; "Circle cutter, spring clamps, glass cutters, glazing hammer and double-bladed shears. I'm sure you're familiar with the rest of the stuff."

He examined various types of pliers, then moved a few feet away to look at hammers and saws and a case containing a supply of nails, screws and hooks, all organized by size. He raised his brows at the sight of an acetylene torch.

A cabinet for paper covered most of the next wall.

He opened drawers and found that the supply ranged from mat board to rainbow-hued tissue. He glanced at boxes of paint, brushes, a couple of easels and a large workbench along the remaining walls. A drawing board and stool stood in the center of the room.

"So this is your domain." His voice was thoughtful.

She was perched on the stool, and he stood beside her, looking down at a design that was taking shape.

"This is it," she said matter-of-factly. "I think I mentioned that Judy runs the business side. I hold up the artistic end. The only problem is our business is doing so well that I spend less time making ..." she pointed to the workbench " ... and more here at the board. Without intending to, I seem to have moved into designing."

He watched as her hand moved swiftly over the paper. "How did that come about?"

"When we opened I made most of the handcrafted items. And I'm not talking about crocheted booties," she explained dryly. "Most were individualized art objects: stained-glass windows, skylights, hanging lamps, woven wall hangings, things like that. Soon I couldn't keep up with the demand. People around here want original accessories for their homes. I don't just mean different; they want the one-of-a-kind sort of thing. They're willing to pay well, but I couldn't keep up with the orders."

His eyes followed her slim fingers as she brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen over one eye.

"Soon I was haunting the art department at the university looking for talent. God knows, there's enough of it around. So now," she grinned suddenly, "I guess you could say that I'm a contractor, too."

Dane pulled up a stool beside her and straddled it.

Apparently there was no end to the surprises she had in store for him. At their first meeting, he remembered, he had dismissed her as a youngster. A sassy, annoying, provocative bit of jailbait. The next time he saw her he had all but fallen out of the window as she walked through the door in that cotton-candy dress.

When he took her home and all hell broke loose at the front door, he had decided that, although she needed a keeper, he wanted and intended to have her.

Of course, there were extenuating circumstances.

Anyone who coped with a charmingly spacy aunt and a chatty, defunct uncle could be allowed a few eccentricities. But it was not a fetching bit of fluff who had assumed responsibility for a rapidly growing orphanage and who worked so efficiently in this room. No, this was a many-faceted lady. And she was his. She hadn't realized it yet, and probably wouldn't admit it when she did, but,she was his. And he couldn't wait to learn what other surprises were waiting for him.

Dane leaned over and kissed a tempting spot on her nape that he had been eyeing for the last five minutes.

"I'm going to browse around your shop," he decided. "Don't rush on my account, honey. Take as long as you need."

Kara looked at the closing door in bemusement. Honey? He seemed to be saying that a lot lately, and she didn't think he used endearments lightly. It also seemed that he was taking a lot for granted. Absently rubbing a tingling spot on her nape, she returned to her drawing.

❧

An hour later, she locked the door and walked to the front of the shop. Dane was leaning on the counter, returning his wallet to his hip pocket, talking to Beth. They both looked pleased with themselves.

Very pleased.

Kara drew to a halt before Dane. Before she could utter a word, he asked, "Ready to go?" At her nod, he smiled at the younger girl behind the counter. "It was nice meeting you, Beth. Thanks again."

She nodded and murmured, "My pleasure."

Once Kara was in the car, seat belt buckled, she frowned in suspicion. "Thanks for what?"

"Hmmm?"

"Don't try to look so innocent. You can't carry it off. You and Beth. What are you up to?"

He drove the short distance to her house in silence.

It wasn't until he opened her front door that he answered her.

"Bribery and collusion."

"What?"

"I paid her to work for you tomorrow, and she agreed to do it."

"Don't you think you should have consulted me?"

He wasn't deceived by her mild tone. "I could have," he agreed. "But you would have argued and confused the issue. As it stands, it works out beautifully. Beth needed the extra money, and I wanted us to have more time together."

Her eyes darkened with indignation, and she drew herself up as high as her sixty-three inches would allow. "Did you stop to think that I might have plans of my own?"

"Since you expected to be working all day, no."

"Look, this may come as a shock to you, but I don't need a social director. I'm twenty-five, not fifteen ..."

She ignored his murmured, "Thank God for small favors," and plowed on. "I've been making my own arrangements, planning my own life for some time now, and I can't imagine why all of a sudden you think that I need you to organize my every waking moment."

He moved to the striped sofa and sat down. "And sleeping."

She almost overlooked the quiet comment. Almost, but not quite.

"What?"

"You heard me," he said evenly. "I told you the first night we went to dinner that I wanted you sleeping in my bed. I don't want you to forget it."

"I don't even think about it," she said, lying through her teeth. She shot a quick glance at the big man sitting with rocklike patience across from her.

Why me? she reflected. All she asked out of life was an ordinary man, pleasant, uncomplicated and agreeable, with a sense of humor. And what did she get?

None of the above.

In all fairness, though, she had to admit that his sense of humor was developing. When they first met he had been in a state of unrelenting grimness. Now he actually smiled. Every now and then.

"I'm going to have to teach you to enjoy life," she said, unconsciously verbalizing her thoughts.

"Fair enough," he agreed promptly. "And I'll teach you to enjoy love."

"How do you know I don't?"

"Honey, as skittish as you are, you've either been sadly neglected or abused. And you don't have the look of someone who's been mistreated."

She eyed his bland face suspiciously. Was he laughing at her again? Blast the man! He might be lacking some of the traits she considered desirable, but he had enough self-possession for a regiment!

Kara sighed audibly. "'Why," she asked a spot on the ceiling, "can't men be satisfied with a simple relationship?"

"The simpler it is, the better a man likes it," Dane explained to the same spot, shaking his head sadly at her lack of understanding. "Nothing pleases him more than a relationship reduced to its bare necessities."

Kara rose, giggling despite herself. "I give up."

He reached out a hand, snagged her wrist and tumbled her into his lap. "Good. That saves a lot of time."

She snatched her hand away and poked at his chest with a slim finger. "Look," she said, forcing herself to meet that shimmering green gaze head-on, "you might as well get this straight. We are not going to be lovers. I sleep in my bed; you sleep in yours. That's the way it is and that's the way it stays."

"Wrong," he contradicted deliberately, confiscating her hand and placing a kiss on the prodding finger.

"We'll be lovers before the month is over. You'll be in my bed, your bare body curled against mine, wondering what all the fuss was about."

"You're so sure of yourself," she whispered, momentarily shaken by his statement. "Maybe that act works with other women," she said finally, rallying, "but not with me."

"There are no other women, not now. And it's no act." His fingers laced in the silvery silkiness of her hair, cradling her head as he lowered his. His lips were just a whisper away, his gaze locked with hers, when he stopped.

"Just as there hasn't been another man for you. Ever. Isn't that so, Kara?" He watched intently as awareness flickered reluctantly to life in her dreamy dark eyes. "Isn't it?" he insisted.

Her pupils narrowed, warning him too late as she twisted lithely, slid out of his arms and scooted to the end of the couch with more haste than grace. "You pick the damnedest times to ask questions," she complained lightly. She could feel the heat in her cheeks and wondered if he would believe it was due to exertion.

"I thought not," he said with satisfaction, ignoring her words. "But I want to hear you say it. Tell me, Kara. Tell me there's been no other man."

"You really do take the prize for rudenest, you know that, Dane?" Her eyes sparkled with anger.

His voice was sharp with impatience. "Rudeness be damned. I want an answer."

"You are the most infuriating man I've ever known!" she shouted, glaring at his inflexible face.

"All right! If it's so important! I've never slept with a man! And as long as we're setting the record straight, if and when I do, it won't be with you!"

"The hell it won't."

His words were soft now, but they hadn't lost any of their determination. His sudden grin surprised her.

"Face it, my Lady Moonlight, we have an appointment with destiny in my bed, before the month is over."

The words forming in Kara's mind were shattered by the ringing of the telephone. She slid from the couch, saying, "How much do you want to bet it's Aunt Tillie offering to be a chaperone?"

"Hello." She shot a triumphant glance at Dane.

"Hi, Aunt Tillie. Yes, he's here."

Dane groaned, and Kara's smile grew wider.

It faded abruptly as she listened. "You've got plumbing problems," she informed him. "Your pipe in the master bathroom has sprung a leak, and the water's on its way into the-bedroom. Aunt Tillie's getting a bit vague here. Says it's heading toward something big and round."

"My bed," he muttered, standing and checking his pocket for his car keys.

"Thanks, Aunt Tillie. He's on his way." She replaced the receiver, saying, "You'd better hurry. She's worried about the big, round thi... your bed?"

"Right," he said tersely, heading for the door.

"You have a round bed?" she asked, relishing his harassed expression.

"Anything wrong with that?" he asked stoically.

He'd break Tim's neck, he decided for the twentieth time. What was the use of having a friend in interior decorating if you couldn't trust him? He'd asked Tim to finish the bedroom while he was on a trip. And that's what he'd found when he'd come back.

"Not a thing. I've just never seen one. How do you put sheets on?" It was an effort, but she remained straight-faced.

"Like any other bed," he said prosaically. "You start in one place and work your way around." He'd almost sent it back, he remembered. But it didn't look bad, and it was comfortable. That was all he required from a bed.

"Well, if I had any doubts before, they're gone now. I wouldn't be caught dead in a round bed."

His hands rested on her shoulders, and he drew her close for a quick, hard kiss. "You'll be very much alive," he assured her. "And I'll guarantee one thing. Before the night is over you won't know or care what shape bed you're in."

Kara glared at his retreating back until the door slammed behind him. Then her expression slowly changed. A satisfied smile curved her lips, and she laughed softly. She wondered when Dane would realize that he had neither questioned nor scoffed at Tillie's call. She'd give a lot to see the expression on his face when he remembered how he'd automatically reached for his keys and headed for the door.