Kieran wasn’t sure where the “bad boy” had gone, but he was determined to find him. What kind of hellion would bloody a little girl’s nose?
Righteous indignation grew into flat-out anger with each step he took in his search. Not only would he confront the kid who’d hurt Rosie, but he was going to have a little talk with the mom and dad, too.
When he spotted the only boy wearing a green dragon shirt in the vicinity, he realized the bully was much smaller than he’d thought. In fact, he didn’t appear to be any older than Rosie.
Before Kieran could take another step, the boy’s mother swooped in and, from the crease in her forehead, the frown on her lips and the grip on his arm, she appeared to be well aware of what he’d done.
Kieran slowed to a stop. As he stood off to the side, close enough to hear the conversation, he observed the parent and child.
“What happened?” the mom asked the boy. “Did you hit that little girl?”
“Yes. But she punched me first!” He pointed to his eye, which appeared to be a little red. “Right here! And it still hurts.”
The mother dropped to one knee and studied the alleged injury carefully. “Why did she do that?”
“I don’t know.” He grimaced. “I told her my dragon likes to eat princesses, and I told her she better get out of the way. Then she did this.” He fisted his small hand and made a punching motion toward his eye.
“I’m sorry she hurt you, but that didn’t mean you had the right to hit her back. You’re going to have to tell her you’re sorry.”
The boy looked down at his scuffed sneakers then back at his mom with a frown. “Okay. But she has to say sorry, too.”
“I’m not worried about her manners. I’m concerned about yours. You know better than to hurt someone, even if they hit you first.”
His chin dropped to his chest, resting on the graphic, right about where a burst of fire came out of the dragon’s mouth. “Okay. But will you come with me?”
“Yes, I will.”
As the mother bent forward and placed a kiss on her son’s cheek, Kieran realized he didn’t need to get involved after all. The woman clearly loved the boy and was teaching him right from wrong, as well as showing him how to be kind and thoughtful. So he turned and walked away.
He wished he’d had a parent like that when he’d been growing up. Not that he hadn’t been loved or disciplined, but more often than not, those lessons had come from nannies and au pairs—and minus the kiss on the cheek.
When he reached the big red slide, Dana still wasn’t back from the restroom where she’d taken Rosie to wash off the blood. He hadn’t liked seeing Rosie hurt, but she’d probably learned a hard and painful lesson.
Hopefully, she hadn’t been seriously injured. When he’d been a boy, he’d gotten a couple of bloody noses, and he had never suffered any lasting damage.
But that didn’t make this any easier. When he’d heard Rosie cry, when he’d seen the blood dribbling from her nose, his heart had dropped to the floor, and he’d almost lost it. All he could think about was chasing after that bully and making sure he didn’t get away with hitting a little girl. But that was before he’d found out that the princess had struck the dragon first.
Now what? What would a real father do at a time like this?
Too bad he didn’t have any memories to draw from so he could teach by example. His dad had been a workaholic, and by the time Kieran had come around, Gerald Robinson practically lived at the office or was flying off to who knew where.
And his mom hadn’t been around much, either. She’d been too caught up in shopping trips to Manhattan, visits to spas and hair salons and whatever else it was some mothers did when they didn’t have time for their kids.
Still, he was going to have to talk to Rosie, just as the boy’s mom had done with him.
How would Zach have handled this?
Too bad Kieran couldn’t just whip out his cell phone and ask.
No, he was on his own from now on, and his gut clenched at the thought.
That is, until Dana walked out of the bathroom, a reminder that he wasn’t entirely alone. She still held Rosie in her arms. The new princess shirt he’d bought her was now bloodstained and probably ruined. So was Dana’s lacy blouse.
On the upside, it appeared that the bleeding had stopped.
“How’s she doing?” Kieran asked.
“She’s all right. Just a little sore.” Dana brushed a motherly kiss on Rosie’s brow. It was a sweet move, a touching one.
Had Zach lived, Dana probably would have filled a maternal role in the child’s life.
“Hey,” Kieran said to Rosie. “You and I are going to have to go find that boy so you can apologize to him.”
Dana didn’t object, but she scrunched her brow, clearly confused by Kieran’s comment.
“Apparently,” he said, filling her in, “Rosie struck the first blow.” Then he turned back to Rosie, “Of course, two wrongs don’t make a right. And hitting hurts. That’s why we don’t punch people when we get mad.”
“No.” Rosie crossed her arms in an unexpected show of defiance. “I’m not gonna say sorry to him.”
Kieran looked at Dana, hoping she’d help him figure out the proper approach.
She gave a slight shrug, then turned Rosie to face her. “When we hurt someone, we apologize. It’s the right thing to do.”
Rosie scrunched her little face. “Do I have to?”
“Yes, you do,” Dana said.
“I’ll go with you,” Kieran offered, just as the boy’s mom had done.
Rosie rolled her eyes. “Okay, but then I want to go home.”
Now she was talking. Kieran had already spent more time at Cowboy Fred’s than he wanted to. “I’ve got an even better idea, Rosie. I’ll ask the guy at the counter to box up our pizza so we can take it with us. What do you say about that?”
“Okay,” she said. “Can we eat it and watch a princess movie on TV?”
“Absolutely. Now come on, let’s go face that dragon.”
Moments later, they found the boy standing next to his mother, scanning the climbing structure and probably looking for Rosie. Dana placed the girl on the floor, and Kieran took her hand in his, but he had to give it a little tug to get her to move forward and face the boy and his mom.
“I’m sorry for punching you,” she told the child.
The boy looked at Rosie. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to make blood come out of your nose.”
“Tell her your name,” the boy’s mother suggested. “That way, maybe you can be friends and play together.”
The boy didn’t say a word, and Rosie merely stared at him.
The mother placed her hand on her son’s head. “This is Michael.”
“Yeah,” he said, directing his response to Rosie. “But sometimes people call me Indiana Jones, ’specially when I have my toy whip.”
Rosie smiled. “Then you can call me Princess Rosabelle.” She must have thought of something because her smile faded. “I’m not going to play with you when you have a whip.”
Michael shrugged, then turned to his mother and wrapped his arms around her leg, clearly glad the apology was over.
Apparently so was Rosie because she hurried back to Dana and lifted her arms, making it known that she wanted to be picked up again.
When Dana complied, Rosie hugged her neck. “Let’s go home now, Uncle Kieran.”
“Maybe,” Michael’s mom said, “the next time you come to Cowboy Fred’s, we’ll be here, too. And then you and Michael can play together.”
Kieran didn’t know about that, but he offered the mom a smile. Then he went to the counter and told the teenage clerk to make their order to go.
“Perfect timing,” the teen said. “Your pizza is just coming out of the oven.”
Moments later, with the large pizza box in hand, Kieran found Dana and Rosie at the entrance, having the matching stamps on their hands verified.
“Why don’t you follow us back to my place?” he suggested. “I promised you pizza for dinner, and I don’t want you to think I’d ever renege on a deal like that.”
Her pretty smile lit her eyes, reminding him of a field of bluebonnets.
“Sure, why not?”
When she shifted Rosie in her arms, he again spotted the blood splatter on her blouse. “Looks like I’m going to owe you a new top.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I insist.”
She shook her head. “Actually, you’d never be able to find another like this. I bought it at a vintage clothing shop downtown, so it’s one of a kind.”
If it was that rare, it was probably also expensive. “Now I really feel bad.”
“Don’t,” she said, as she pushed open the door. “Believe it or not, I’m up on all the latest techniques for stain removal. I learned them because of the unique places I sometimes shop.”
“You like to wear vintage clothing?”
“Yes. I actually prefer it.”
At that, his steps slowed. Hers did, too. When their eyes met, he studied her for a moment. Dana was a novelty and one of a kind, just like her favorite articles of clothing.
With unabashed honesty, he said, “I’ve never met anyone like you.”
He’d expected her to brighten, to take his flattering remark to heart, like most of the women he knew would have done. But her waifish smile made him wonder if she’d taken his comment differently than he’d actually meant it.
“I’m sure you haven’t,” she said, her voice soft and vulnerable—maybe even hurt.
“That was actually a compliment,” he told her.
“Then thank you.” She smiled again, and while it seemed a lot more genuine this time, her eyes weren’t nearly as bright.
If she were another woman, one of those he usually dated, he’d apologize by surprising her with a piece of jewelry or by taking her someplace special.
But Dana didn’t seem to be the kind of woman to get caught up in high-priced trappings. And, while that left him without a ready peace offering, it pleased him in an unexpected way.
* * *
Dana had to admit that an evening spent watching animated movies while eating pizza never had sounded appealing, at least not since she’d graduated from high school. But on the drive over to Kieran’s condominium, she’d actually looked forward to having dinner with him and Rosie.
Now, as they sat on the floor, around a modern, glass-topped coffee table and watching a classic cartoon movie on television, she found herself having fun. Rosie was an absolute delight and said some of the cutest things. Her happy chatter had both adults smiling more often than not.
Dana’s only complaint, if you could call it that, was the meal itself. Cowboy Fred’s pizza was the worst she’d ever eaten. No, she’d have to take that back. When she was a teenager, her foster dad used to stop by a sports bar on his way home from work on Friday nights. He’d meet his wife there so they could have a couple of beers with their friends. After they’d “wound down” from a stressful workweek, they would bring home cold pizza for Dana and the other kids to eat. The topping was always greasy, the crust tough and hard to chew. Looking back, she suspected that, even if they’d brought it straight home still warm from the oven, it wouldn’t have tasted any better.
Rosie reached for her glass and downed the last of her milk. “I’m all done.” Then she pushed her plate aside and zeroed in on the movie.
Kieran, who sat next to Dana, turned to her and asked, “Do you think she had enough to eat? She ate the cheese off the top, but she only took a couple of bites of the crust.”
Dana offered him a slight shrug. “Who knows? At least she drank her milk.”
“Is that enough to hold her over until breakfast?” Kieran asked.
“It might be.”
Dana had to force herself to finish her own single slice, but she didn’t mention that to Kieran. She’d hate for him to think she was complaining about the meal he’d provided her.
“Actually,” he said, “I’ve been known to eat almost an entire pizza by myself, but this one tastes like C-R-A-P.”
At that, Dana broke into a grin. “That might be one reason she didn’t finish. Should we offer her something else? If you have some fresh fruit or yogurt, we can tempt her with something more appealing.”
“Good idea,” he said. “You stay here, kick back and relax. I’ll see what I can rustle up.”
The children’s movie wasn’t all that bad. In fact, it was somewhat entertaining, but Dana got to her feet anyway. “Let me help.”
“Are you sure you want to?”
She gave him a wink. “You bet.”
Several minutes later, they’d prepared a fruit, cheese and cracker platter.
“Maybe I’d better spread some peanut butter on a few of these crackers,” Kieran said. “Earlier today, during lunch, Rosie informed me that mouse cheese tastes yucky and that she only likes the square kind.”
Dana tilted her head. “What did she mean by that?”
“I wondered the same thing, so I asked.” Kieran laughed. “She said the cartoon mice eat cheese that has holes in it. So I came to an easy conclusion. She prefers American over Swiss.”
“Well, what do you know? There’s something new to learn every day.”
“That’s true, especially when there’s a three-year-old around. But I catch on quickly. Now I have American cheese on my new grocery list, along with raisins and Oreos, although she informed me she only likes the ‘white stuff inside’ and not the cookie part.”
“That’s important to note,” Dana said, as she finished slicing an apple to add to the platter, which was now filled with healthy munchies and adorned with both green and red grapes. “What do you think? Is this enough?”
Kieran made his way to where she stood, close enough for her to catch a taunting whiff of his woodsy aftershave. “That’s perfect. We make a great team.”
Did they? She liked the sound of that.
“And after the day we’ve had,” he added, giving her a nudge with his elbow, “and the movie we’re committed to finish, I’d like to have a glass of wine. How about you? I promise it’ll come out of a bottle, rather than a box.”
“That sounds good to me.”
She watched as he opened the stainless-steel refrigerator door, pulled out a chilled chardonnay and placed it on the countertop. She again marveled at the way he moved through the kitchen, like a man comfortable being a host. Or, more accurately, like a bachelor who’d perfected the fine art of seduction.
And why wouldn’t a rich, handsome single manlike Kieran have those romantic moves down to a science?
Of course, giving Dana a glass of wine after an evening like this wasn’t about romance or seduction. Still, if she were to ever be on the receiving end of Kieran Fortune’s sexual attention, she’d be charmed to the core. And making love with him would be as natural as...falling into bed.
Now there was an amazing and completely unlikely image she wasn’t going to dwell on.
After opening the bottle with a fancy corkscrew, Kieran removed two crystal goblets from the glass-door cupboard and filled them halfway.
He handed one to Dana, then lifted his in a toast. “To my trusty teammate, who happens to be a very good sport.”
Her heart fluttered, as if they had actually become a team, but that’s as far as it would go. She knew better than to let anything Kieran said go to her head. So she tamped down the little rush, determined to offer him a lighthearted toast of her own.
She clinked her glass against his, the resonating ring validating the glasses were crystal, and said, “To Cowboy Fred’s search for a new chef.”
At that, Kieran chuckled. “You’ve got that right. And to make matters worse, there’s a great Italian restaurant close to my office that serves an awesome gourmet pizza—and for less than Fred charges for week-old marinara and stale cheese on top of baked cardboard.”
Now it was Dana’s turn to laugh. Then she reached for a grape, pulled it off the small cluster and popped it into her mouth.
“Come on,” Kieran said. “Let’s take this to Rosie and give her something healthier to eat for dinner.”
They’d no more than returned to the living room when they spotted Rosie stretched out on the floor, her eyes closed in slumber, her lips parted.
“Is she asleep?” Dana asked.
“It looks that way.” Kieran set both his wineglass and the platter on the coffee table. “She should eat something, but...she’s got to be exhausted. Maybe it would be best to let her sleep. If she wakes up hungry, I can give her something to eat then.”
He stooped and picked up the child, then straightened, holding her close to his chest, gazing at her as if she was a fragile princess. She might be tiny and precious, but she’d battled a dragon today.
“I’ll be right back,” Kieran said. Then he carried Rosie out of the living room and down the hall.
Dana glanced at the platter of cheese and fruit as well as Kieran’s glass of wine. Then she looked at her own. A nervous flutter erupted in her tummy.
With Rosie now out of the room, they would be alone. What in the world would they talk about?
That romantic spark she’d felt while bumping elbows with him in the kitchen flickered again, warming her cheeks and sending her heart in a tail-chasing circle. She tried her best to put the fire out, to tamp it down, just as she’d done before.
But this time, watching Kieran walk away, all tall, buff and handsome, his sexy swagger on, she just couldn’t shake whatever he’d stirred inside her.
* * *
When Kieran returned to the living room, he found Dana seated on the sofa, rather than on the floor where they’d sat before. That made sense. There was no point in having a big, family-style evening when Rosie was sound asleep.
He looked at his new Bang & Olufsen television screen, where the animated movie continued to play, and reached for the remote, which rested on the lamp table. “I assume it’s okay if I turn this off.”
“That’s fine by me.” Dana offered him a shy smile, then studied the wine in her crystal goblet as if she’d never seen anything like it before.
He felt a little awkward, too. But he shook it off and took a seat on the sofa, one cushion away from her. Then he picked up his wineglass, which he’d left on the coffee table just moments ago. “It looks like we’ll have the food to ourselves.”
Dana bent forward and snatched a piece of cheese and a rice cracker from the platter. As she did, the lamplight splashed on her bent head in such a way that it lit up threads of gold in her auburn strands, causing her silky hair to shimmer and glisten like it was about to catch fire. He could only imagine what it would look like if she wore it hanging loose.
Kieran hadn’t expected to notice something like that, let alone comment, but a question rolled off his tongue before he could give it a second thought. “Is there a reason you keep your hair pulled up most of the time?”
Dana gazed up at him, the cheese and cracker half raised to her mouth. Her lips parted as if the question had completely caught her off guard. But then, why wouldn’t it take her aback? Kieran hadn’t intended to ask her something so personal, even if he’d wondered about it more than once in the last few weeks.
“It’s just a habit, I guess. I always put it up when I’m at work because it tends to get into my face whenever I’m bent over a book or a journal. But I...” She didn’t finish what she was about to add.
The way she eyed him, carefully and cautiously, made him scamper to find an excuse or an explanation for asking such a question in the first place.
“It’s a pretty color,” he admitted, “and I’d think...” Oh, for cripe’s sake. Good job, man. Now you’ve made things worse.
Where did he go from here? If she were a classy, beautiful woman seated alone in a swanky bar, sipping champagne and wearing a coquettish grin, he’d have no trouble knowing just what to do and say right now. And he wouldn’t even consider changing the subject. But this was different.
Dana was different.
And in her own way, even with her hair pulled up and dressed in casual clothes, she seemed just as appealing as any woman he might meet in a bar. In fact, if she would consider letting her hair down and slipping into a slinky black dress...
Oh, hell. She didn’t even need to go to that length. As it was, he found her pretty damn intriguing.
And there lay the crux of the problem. Under other circumstances, Kieran would have made a romantic move by now. But he couldn’t very well do that when she’d been Zach’s girlfriend. Guys didn’t do things like that to each other.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
Hell, yes. Even with her hair pulled up like a prim librarian and with a blood stain on her blouse, she’d caught his eye and his full attention. And he found her way more attractive than he should.
“No,” he said, doing his damnedest to shake the sudden attraction and to pull himself together. “There’s nothing wrong. My mind was just wandering back in time, back to when Zach was alive. The two of you came to a cocktail party here. And you wore your hair down that evening. It hung nearly to your waist and was so sleek and shiny. The color was even more striking. I didn’t tell you then, but I commented about it later to Zach.”
“He liked me to wear it long and loose, but...” She bit down on her bottom lip, as if trying to hold back whatever she’d been about to say.
But that was okay. In fact, it was almost a relief to know they’d both gotten caught up in a topic that needed to be redirected—and quickly. If he didn’t get off this verbal merry-go-round, he could end up saying something really stupid, something that gave Dana the wrong idea.
“Unlike Zach,” he said, grasping at straws, “I’ve always been attracted to blondes.”
The second the words rolled off his tongue, heat flooded his face, and his breathing stopped.
How was that for failing miserably in his attempt to fix things?
Trying to recover, he added, “But I do like the color and think you should wear it down more often.”
Oh, hell. Great recovery. That thoughtless attempt just threw him back into the quagmire he’d tried to escape.
“Thank you,” she said. Then she reached for her glass and took another sip of wine.
So no harm, no foul?
Hopefully, they were back on the right track. He wasn’t about to put the moves on his late friend’s girlfriend, especially when he desperately needed her friendship.
He’d only screw things up by revealing his attraction to her. Besides, sexual partners were a dime a dozen as far as Kieran was concerned.
Yet for some reason, at least tonight, Dana appeared to be one in a million.