“I’d like to meet her.”
Del shook her head definitely, sending her hair slithering over her shoulders, and he was instantly distracted. What would it feel like to have that hair sliding all over him?
“Not in this lifetime,” she said. She picked up her drink and took another long pull on the straw. “I only see her about once a year and trust me, that’s more than enough.”
There was the faintest note of bitterness in her tone. He wondered what her childhood had been like, to produce a reaction like that. If he asked her outright, she’d probably refuse to talk about it. So he went around the subject. “Do you have brothers or sisters?”
She shook her head again. “No, I’m an only. I was an accident.”
“Your mother didn’t want kids?”
“She was afraid they’d ruin her image.”
Ah, so the woman was vain. Hard to imagine how she could have a daughter like Del, who purposely played down her looks. “And did you?”
She giggled. “No, but I certainly tried.”
Had she just giggled? He couldn’t believe it. There wasn’t a woman on the planet less likely to utter a girly laugh than Del. “How much have you had to drink?”
“This is only my third,” she said with great precision. “They’re shamrock daiquiris and they’re very good.”
“Only your third? In a little while, those are going to hit you right between the eyes.”
The waitress came by a moment later and he ordered a second beer and his meal. Del insisted on ordering another of her green concoctions, but he silently motioned the waitress to go light on the alcohol. Then he pointed to a small booth in the corner which had just emptied. “We’re going to move back there.”
He rose and grabbed his beer bottle.
Del stood as he rounded the table, picking up her drink and her bag. “Why are we moving?”
He pulled her chair back and took her elbow to guide her through the maze of tables. “That table’s too big for just the two of us.”
This close, he could see that the black dress was short. Very short. It exposed what looked like miles of long, slim leg. And she was taller than he was used to because she wore a pair of little strappy shoes with high heels.
Oh, man, he loved high heels on a woman with terrific legs. And Del did indeed have terrific legs. Long, muscled thighs, firm calves and slender ankles—he’d better get his mind off Del’s legs before he embarrassed himself.
“Remind me,” he said, “to thank your mother for this outfit sometime.”
There was a moment of startled silence. Then Del said, “Do you like it?” She tilted her head back to peer at his face and almost lost her balance. “Whoops.”
Sam put his arm around her waist—why hadn’t he ever realized how delicate and slight she was?—and hauled her over to the table in the corner. He set her down on the seat. “Yeah,” he said, hoping he hadn’t overstepped the boundary between them. “I like it.” Like was a vast understatement. The top clung to the curves of her breasts and dipped down to reveal the shadowed cleavage between them. All he wanted to do was lean down and place his mouth right there above the gentle swellings, to taste her fine-grained skin and feast on the scent that would be simmering there.
Telling himself that would be the stupidest move he’d ever make in his entire life didn’t seem to help. But he forced himself to set down his beer and slide into the seat opposite hers. It was a snug fit for a man as big as he was. His legs tangled with Del’s beneath the table.
“Sorry,” she said, and she sounded breathless. “They must have decided to fill up this space with a downsized version of the real furniture.”
He worked his legs around so that he could stretch them out on either side of hers. Not great, but bearable. Particularly when she moved and the outsides of her slim thighs brushed against the inside of his. Oh, yeah. Definitely bearable.
The waitress came by with his meal.
“Eat some fries,” he said to Del.
“I already ate.”
“Let me guess, a salad?”
She glared at him. “A chef salad, with ham. How did you know, anyway?”
“Because that’s what you always get when we take clients out or order in.” There. He might not have known her birthday but he did know something about her after all. “Eat some fries.”
“You’re just trying to keep me from getting too drunk,” she accused.
“Yeah.” He didn’t see a reason to deny it.
“But I want to get drunk, Sam. I need to get drunk tonight if I’m going to meet a man.”
He’d just taken a swig of beer and he damn near spit it out. “What? Who are you meeting?” He wasn’t letting her meet anyone she didn’t know really, really well in the condition she was in.
“No one in particular.” Her voice was sulky. That was another first. Del in a mood. At work, she was quiet, reasonable, occasionally insistent and rarely annoyed. But the sexy little pout pushing out her full lower lip was one expression he’d never seen before.
“Are you telling me you’re planning to pick up a guy in a bar tonight? No.” He shoved his food away. “No, no, no.”
“Whoa. Wait!” She grabbed the table and clung as he attempted to haul her to her feet. All that did was ensure that the table came with her as he started to drag her toward the door. “Sam, stop it! You’re making a scene.”
If there were any words he dreaded more, he couldn’t imagine what they’d be. He let her go and straightened the table. Once she’d taken her seat, he also sat again, but he leaned across the small space, shaking a finger in her face. “You are not leaving this bar or any other with anyone besides me tonight. Got it?”
She blinked at the large finger waving beneath her nose. “That’s a good way to get bitten,” she said mildly.
“Wha—? Oh.” He gave her his most menacing look although he was prudent enough to remove his finger from close proximity to her mouth first. “You’re trying to change the subject.”
“Yup.” She nodded, leaning across to take one of his French fries. She nibbled it delicately and the motion of her soft pink lips made him swallow involuntarily.
“Why?” He didn’t get it. “With all the scary stuff that can happen to a woman today, why would you take a chance like that, picking up a stranger?”
“It’s very simple, Sam.” She picked up her green drink and took a sip. “Do you know how old I am today?”
He shook his head. He’d honestly never thought about her age. She was just Del. “We started the company seven years ago,” he said, thinking aloud.
“Right. And I was just out of college. Today I am twenty-nine years old.”
“Congratulations?” He was mystified at her apparent annoyance.
“No!” She was glaring at him again. “I am twenty-nine years old and I’ve never had a boyfriend, much less a lover, in my whole life. I’m an old maid. And I refuse to let another year go by without finding out why sex is such a big deal.”
She might as well have hit him over the head with a plank. “You’re…you’ve never…”
“No.” Her voice got softer and the animation drained from her features. “I’ve never.”
“Why?” Why the hell would a woman who cleaned up as nicely as Del did still be a virgin at the age of twenty-nine? He was totally out of his depth. He heard the words and knew he needed to respond like a friend, but his body was responding as if he were a stud dog and a bitch in heat had just sashayed into his run. Ruthlessly, he shoved away the surge of desire that rose. “You’re a beautiful woman, Del. I can’t believe you’ve never had a guy interested in you.”
She shot him a skeptical look, her finely arched eyebrows rising. “Don’t be ridiculous. You know as well as I do my normal mode of clothing isn’t exactly a man’s fantasy.”
“So? You could have found someone if you’d wanted.” I can’t believe she’s still a virgin! “You hide your looks like some people hide their money.”
“That’s just it,” she said. “I never wanted.” She hesitated, then took a deep breath. “My mother was a party girl when she was younger. There were always men and booze and sometimes drugs around. She’s been married several times since my father was killed when I was a toddler but not one of the marriages has lasted.”
There was a wealth of pain in the simple explanation, and suddenly it was easier to think about something other than his own gratification. “Where were you when these parties were going on?”
“In my room. But I could hear. I used to sneak out when I was younger and watch sometimes. Then one evening a man found me and made some—” she made a disgusted face “—improper advances. My stepfather of the moment threw him out. When I got older, my mother was determined to marry me off. She started introducing me to potential husbands when I turned sixteen.”
Sam realized his hands were clenched in tight fists on the tabletop and he made a conscious effort to relax them, taking a deep breath. “I begin to see why you dress the way you do.”
She smiled grimly, gesturing at him with a French fry like a teacher with a pointer. “Exactly.”
“So how did you escape?”
“Went to college on the other side of the country from my mother. And you know the rest. I came to work for you three weeks after graduation.”
When he’d just been starting out. He remembered it well. He’d spoken of his new business to an acquaintance whom he’d met while he was convalescing. The man had told him he knew a young woman with a new degree in Business Administration who would be an asset. Gave her glowing references.
He couldn’t even imagine the childhood she’d described. Visions of a poorly clothed child in a filthy room fending off her mother’s drug-dealing friends troubled him. Why had he never known any of this about her before?
He knew exactly why, he thought as he scarfed down the sandwich he’d ordered. He wasn’t the type of person to inspire confidences on the best of days. And Del, without the inhibition-lowering dose of alcohol she’d consumed tonight, wasn’t the type to share them. He gave silent thanks to whatever god had led them to this juncture tonight. Clearly, he’d been put in Del’s path to keep her from making a huge mistake.
“Del,” he said carefully, “I can appreciate what you’ve told me. And I can understand it. But why now? If you’ve decided you’re interested in a relationship, why not go about it in a more conventional way?”
“A relationship?” She made a sour face. “No. The last thing I want is some man trying to make me believe he loves me.” She laughed, but there was little humor in it. “My mother was a shining example of matrimonial bliss. Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
“All right. So you don’t want a relationship. But why pick up a strange man in a bar?”
She looked at him as if he were insane. “Where else do you suggest I go? Church?”
“Well, maybe, but there are other ways to meet guys.”
“Such as?”
Damn. He couldn’t think of a single thing except—“What about online dating services?”
She cast him a speaking glance. “Would you consider doing that?”
“Not a chance.” Then he realized what he’d just said, and he narrowed his eyes. “That was a trick question.”
He’d had plenty of occasions to become familiar with Del’s stubborn streak over the years. When she didn’t respond, he could tell from the mulish look on her face—the one he knew meant You can say whatever you want but I’m still doing it my way—that she wasn’t going to listen.
“There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin,” he said desperately.
“Are you?”
“Of course not! But…that’s not the point.” His recovery time was a beat too slow.
“Why? Because you’re a guy?” Suddenly there were tears in her eyes.
Oh, hell. Tears. He hated tears. In the seven years they’d worked together he’d never seen Del cry once. “No. Of course not. Just because…because…” He was drowning, going down for the third time without a life vest, and Del wasn’t about to throw it to him.
All of a sudden she stood up. She slung her purse over her shoulder. “See? You can’t come up with a single valid reason.” And she turned and walked away.
Sam sat, distantly aware that his mouth was hanging open as he watched her totter toward the bar on those ridiculously high heels. Those high heels that did such wonderful things for her amazing legs. How crazy was it that this was the first time he’d ever seen those legs? No crazier than the conversation they’d just had, he decided.
Then he realized she was sliding onto a bar stool and he stood up. No way was he going to let her do something so final. He tossed a bill on the table which would cover their drinks and his dinner along with a generous tip, and strode through the throng toward Del.
“…work for a security firm. You know, like home alarm systems and things,” she was saying to a very interested guy next to her as Sam got within range. Even half-toasted and undoubtedly pissed at him, he noted that she was suitably low-key when discussing the business. They’d agreed long ago that the best advertising for their unique services was word-of-mouth, that not everyone would appreciate the kinds of things they offered.
“Hey,” said Sam.
She turned to face him, frowning. “Go away.”
“I’d be happy to. And you’re coming with me.” In one smooth move he spun her stool around to face him and hefted her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.
“Sam!” It was a half scream.
“Hey, buddy,” said the guy beside whom she’d been sitting.
Sam shot him a single, bring-’em-on look, the kind he’d once used in combat. “She’s with me.”
The man put both palms up in surrender. “Okay, whatever, man. I was just making a little conversation. I didn’t know…” His voice faded as Sam turned and headed out of the bar.
Del was wriggling and squirming and generally being a pain. For a moment he couldn’t keep his hand from lingering over the firm curve of her bottom. The skirt was so short he could slide his hand beneath it in a heartbeat—stop it, Sam! “Settle down,” he said to her. Her bare legs were smooth and muscled beneath his arm and he ran an appreciative hand down her calf as he let the outer door swing shut behind them. “Do you run or something?”
“I am going to kill you,” she said in a muffled voice. Probably had a faceful of his shirt and her hair.
“Nah.” He set her on her feet beside his car, trying to ignore the basic hunger that surged when she shook her hair back from her face with one of those unbelievably erotic little head tosses women did without thinking. “Tomorrow morning you’ll be thanking me.”
“I will not.” He’d never seen her defiant before, either. She hugged her arms around herself as if she were cold, which she probably was in that skimpy outfit, and her voice quavered when she spoke again. “Tomorrow morning I’ll be even more of a dried-up old prune than I am now. No man’s ever going to want me.” Her breath was hitching and by the time she finished, he could see in the glow from the streetlights overhead the shine of tears making tracks down her cheeks.
God, he hated it when women cried. There was nothing in life he hadn’t been trained to overcome during his years in the Navy SEAL teams—except feminine tears. “Stop bawling, dammit!” Suddenly, he was completely out of patience with her, with himself, with this whole crazy evening. Why the hell was he staying away from her? He wanted her, had wanted her for…years, maybe. He’d just never let himself acknowledge it before. “You’re not going to be a prune. If you’re so damn determined to lose your virginity tonight, then it might as well be with me.”
“You?” It was, to his ears, a horrified whisper.
“Me,” he repeated grimly. “I’m clean, I’m non-violent—unless called for—and I’m familiar. I’m good at sex. You’ll like it.” And oh, baby, so will I. “Now get in the car.”
Quickly, before she could begin to argue, he put an arm around her and ushered her to the passenger side of his vehicle. “I’ll bring you down to pick up your car tomorrow. You’re not driving tonight.”
He closed her door, rounded the hood and slid into the driver’s seat of his Jeep Cherokee. Del hadn’t moved, hadn’t even put on her seat belt, so he leaned across her and snagged it, buckling her in. As he did, his forearm pressed against the soft, yielding swell of her breast. She made a small, panicked almost-sound and went perfectly still. His pulse raced and his body quickened, but he resisted the urge to devour her right there on the spot. For a few seconds, their faces were close together and he could smell the warm, woman scent of her, could feel her breath on his cheek, could hear the shallow gulps of air she was taking in.
“You okay?” he asked gruffly.
“No.” She sniffed and another tear trickled down her cheek.
Sam lifted his hand and brushed it away with his thumb. “Yes, you are,” he said quietly. “Now let me take you home, babe.”
She sat quietly while he started the car and headed out onto the Capital Beltway. He knew her address, though he’d never been there, and he needed little direction until the last few streets in her development.
“Turn left here. It’s the third one on the right.”
The third one on the right turned out to be a spacious town house with a bay window. It was built into a hill that fell away in the back so that she actually had three levels, he noted as he followed the curving street around to the parking area.
He helped Del out of the car and followed her closely as she went up the sidewalk. She still tottered a little on the heels and he wasn’t sure if it was alcohol or simply lack of practice, but he put an arm around her waist, anyway, enjoying the feel of her slender body tucked against his side while she fished for her key in her handbag. Soon, he told himself, soon you’ll know everything there is to know about the body that’s been hidden beneath those damn tents for all these years.
When she came up with a small ring of keys and selected one, he took it from her hand. She looked up at him then and her eyes were dark, unreadable pools in the moonlight.
“Look, ah, Sam, I had a fair amount to drink and, ah, I mean—I know you were just kidding and I do appreciate you saving me from myself—”
“Why do you think I was kidding?”
She bit her lip. “You don’t want me,” she said in a small voice. “You’re just trying to be nice.”
He shook his head, stifling a strong urge to laugh at both her and himself. “I’m not nice.” He debated with himself for a moment. What the hell. “And I do want you. I’ve wanted you for a long time.”
Her eyes were huge as she absorbed the words. Suspiciously, she said, “You have? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”
“I’m not just saying that.”
“But why—”
“You’re stalling.” He put the key in the lock. “What was it you said? You weren’t going to wake up tomorrow morning and still be a virgin.” He opened the door, then turned to face her, taking her face between his hands and simply holding her there, examining her wide, wary eyes and trembling mouth. “You started it,” he said, and his voice was rough with need, “you can finish it.”