Thief of My Heart
Janice Sims
Love can steal your breath away… Psychologist Desiree Gaines diagnosed Decker Riley the day they met. Her opinion: he's a sexy smooth-talker who loves the thrill of the chase. It's only when he stops pursuing her that Desiree realizes she may have misjudged him. For the first time since she lost her fiancé, Desiree is intrigued…and scared she might be walking into heartache once again.Now that Desiree has stepped out of his wildest fantasies and into his arms, gorgeous attorney Decker knows one thing: she was well worth the wait. Their physical connection is deep and undeniable. But Decker's past makes Desiree doubt herself, so he'll have to earn her trust, one sweet, sizzling kiss at a time…
Love can steal your breath away...
Psychologist Desiree Gaines diagnosed Decker Riley the day they met. Her opinion: he’s a sexy smooth-talker who loves the thrill of the chase. It’s only when he stops pursuing her that Desiree realizes she may have misjudged him. For the first time since she lost her fiancé, Desiree is intrigued...and scared she might be walking into heartache once again.
Now that Desiree has stepped out of his wildest fantasies and into his arms, gorgeous attorney Decker knows one thing: she was well worth the wait. Their physical connection is deep and undeniable. But Decker’s past makes Desiree doubt herself, so he’ll have to earn her trust, one sweet, sizzling kiss at a time...
“Don’t be coy, Desi. You know you’re sexy as hell.”
“I know I have an unsettling effect on some men, but it’s been a long time since I used my sexual mojo on anyone. I’m a bit rusty.”
She hadn’t denied she was sexy. That made him respect her more. He liked that she accepted who she was and didn’t try to pretend to be something she wasn’t.
“You have my permission to practice on me,” he said with a confident smile.
That was when she went on tiptoe and kissed him on the mouth. He had to admit, the move took him by surprise, but only for a second or two. Then it was on. For the longest time, he’d been wondering what it would feel like to kiss her. Now he knew. It was bliss itself. Her lips were full, juicy and sweeter than anything he’d ever experienced before. Her breath mingled with his and created an airborne aphrodisiac. Honestly, she tasted like heaven, a feast for a love-starved man who’d just been invited to an all-you-can-eat buffet. He had to force himself to hold back, because damn, the woman had made him wait forever for this kiss.
Dear Reader (#ulink_eb7514c7-7cde-579f-8e7e-429a705706dc),
I never know how a couple is going to interact with one another until I start writing about them. Desiree and Decker truly surprised me. Decker brought out her playfulness. Desiree brought out his desire to be her hero and protector. I had fun getting to know them. I hope you will, too.
If you’d like to let me know what you think of their story, you can email me at Jani569432@aol.com, write me at PO Box 811, Mascotte, FL 34753-0811, look me up on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/janice.sims.10), or send me a message via my website, janicesims.com (http://janicesims.com).
Happy reading!
Janice
Thief of My Heart
Janice Sims
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
JANICE SIMS is the author of over thirty titles ranging from romance and romantic suspense to speculative fiction. She won an Emma Award for Favorite Heroine for her novel Desert Heat. She has also been nominated for a Career Achievement Award by RT Book Reviews, and her novel Temptation’s Song was nominated for Best Kimani Romance Series in 2010 by RT Book Reviews. She lives in central Florida with her family.
This one is for my cousin, Cathy Johnson.
Cathy, your enthusiasm for life has always inspired me. Besides that, if you hadn’t made me put down a book I was reading (bookworm that I am) and go shopping with you on that fateful Saturday many years ago, I never would have met my husband!
Acknowledgments (#ulink_9840a394-718f-5646-81cc-153bcfb80e4f)
Working with the staff at Mills & Boon is always a pleasure. Rachel Burkot, my editor, helps to keep me focused. Caroline Acebo keeps me on schedule. And a special shout-out to the art department for a very cool cover! Just look at it. The model is exactly how I pictured Decker Riley as I was writing his story. The background and the couch he’s sitting on are nice, too. :o)
Contents
Cover (#u5cee56f7-9d15-5307-b93f-5cf1796b6278)
Back Cover Text (#ud7dd446d-905c-578f-8dc9-ba6eac3824cb)
Introduction (#u7b2d0bcf-5dc5-50e6-a156-952d0e6ca2be)
Dear Reader (#ulink_ed7eef95-1561-5b7d-8b42-2f2349fc9ed8)
Title Page (#udf335e0d-6d8f-55cd-89a9-60c1c6e332f1)
About the Author (#u587f51c9-eb71-539b-acd7-ef6f1885651a)
Dedication (#u9e1576dd-2c35-5a96-94c8-4a9297c1f5d6)
Acknowledgments (#ulink_e56c9633-21ed-5f40-b7da-0e63698d2c23)
Chapter 1 (#ulink_b2385822-2848-55b7-a3e5-c1f7d51558c8)
Chapter 2 (#ulink_ea67b3fb-3422-5247-b11d-2a34027015a5)
Chapter 3 (#ulink_8413954d-4bc6-5d30-b236-eb1366f549ae)
Chapter 4 (#ulink_19ee86e3-92f1-5456-9377-515d9065f629)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1 (#ulink_24319723-d3db-53a8-8a16-b8622f66efd3)
Decker Riley strode into the busy sports bar in downtown Raleigh, North Carolina, and looked around. Six-three and fit, he rolled his shoulders in an attempt to shake off the stresses of the day. His dark gray eyes scoped out the ladies in the establishment. A couple of beauties showed some interest. He smiled, they smiled back. Maybe next time, he told himself as he continued walking.
Suddenly he heard “Decker, over here!” from across the room. It was his cousin, Colton Riley, gesturing for him to join him. Decker smiled as he made his way through the crowd of Friday night revelers. It had been a few months since he, Colton, Juan and Will had gotten together. As he got closer, he saw that they had gone home after work and changed into casual clothes while he still had on his suit slacks and shirt. He’d left his tie and jacket in the car. Each of his three closest friends was married now, and things had changed between them. They had new responsibilities that didn’t include hitting the clubs with their pals, or doing anything remotely fun like the way they used to, in his opinion. Sometimes Decker felt it was only a matter of time before they stopped making an effort to get together at all.
He sighed. That was probably his general dissatisfaction with life talking. Some part of him wanted what they had: a solid, loving relationship with a woman. He was thirty-four and had never been that lucky.
It was March, and March Madness was in full swing. The big-screen TVs at both ends of the huge room featured college basketball teams warring for a place in the NCAA’s Final Four.
“What’d I miss?” Decker asked as he sat down at the table and accepted a mug of beer from Colton.
“Kentucky just kicked Michigan’s butt,” Juan Medina, a Mexican-American in his late twenties, said with a pained expression on his face. Decker knew that Juan was a fan of the Michigan Wolverines.
“Sorry, man,” he said. “Maybe next year.”
“Where’ve you been?” Colton asked as he moved the platter of chicken wings closer to him so he could partake of what was left.
“Tough day in court,” Decker said, reaching for a boneless wing. He popped it into his mouth and chewed, relishing the spicy morsel. “So, how’s life been treating you guys? Wives still got you whipped?”
They all laughed with the ease of friends who mercilessly teased each other on a regular basis. “You wish you were whipped like us,” Colton said, gray eyes knowing.
Decker winced inwardly. His cousin had hit the nail on the head. “I’m perfectly happy dating different beautiful women every week. I’m not ready to have a ring put through my nose.”
“That depends on who’s putting the ring in it, my friend,” Will Simpson, a tall African-American in his early thirties, said. “I bet if Desiree Gaines offered you a ring, you’d gladly let her put it in and lead you around by the nose.”
“Don’t mention that woman’s name,” Decker said defensively. “She’s my one failure. She broke my perfect record.”
“Let’s keep this in perspective,” his cousin said. “Desiree is an angel compared to the woman whose name we really dare not mention out of respect for your stomped-on heart.”
“We’re not going there,” Juan said, grinning. “Back to Desiree. Come on, man. She crushed your record! Not only will she not go out with you, she won’t even accept your flowers. How many times has she sent your flowers back now, ten, twenty times?”
“I’m wearing her down,” Decker claimed with more bravado than he felt. “No one can resist this forever.” He pointed to his face and preened, which only elicited groans of disgust from his less than appreciative audience.
“Maybe you’re going about it the wrong way,” Will suggested. He inclined his bald head in the direction of a group of young women gathered around the bar, chatting and giggling. “What do you see when you look at a pretty woman?”
Decker hesitated because Will tended to be a philosopher. He asked harmless-sounding questions, but he was rarely satisfied with simple answers. “Is this a trick question? What am I supposed to see, Will? I see an attractive face and body.”
“Then you’re not looking deeply enough,” said Will. “Every woman has a distinct personality. You can’t use the same old methods of seduction on every one of them. Desiree doesn’t respond to a player. So you’ve got to figure out what she wants and give it to her.”
Decker looked at Will and shook his head in exasperation. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do?”
“Get her into bed,” Colton deadpanned.
“Eventually, yeah,” Decker said, turning to face his cousin, who could have been his brother they looked so much alike. Both of them were tall, with reddish-brown skin, dark brown hair shorn close to well-shaped heads and the Riley gray eyes. “But I really care about her. Would I still be trying to get her to go out with me after almost two years if I didn’t care?”
“I don’t know,” Colton said. “Maybe it irks you that she’s holding out, and now it’s become important to you because you can’t bear to lose. You’ve never been a good loser, Decker.”
“I know you’re married to her sister, but could you be on my side in this?” Decker asked plaintively. “I’m beginning to think it’s your opinion that I’m not good enough for your sister-in-law!”
“Uh-oh,” Will said in anticipation of a fight erupting between the cousins. “Keep the comments civil, fellas.”
“It’s not a question of your not being good enough for Desiree,” Colton said levelly. “I know you’re a decent man. But Desiree doesn’t, and you’re not giving her the room to observe you and come to that conclusion on her own. My advice is to quit sending her flowers and quit calling her altogether.”
Decker frowned. “Did she tell you to talk to me? Is that it?”
Colton shook his head and sighed impatiently. “No, no one asked me to talk to you. But I’m doing it anyway. Leave her alone and let her miss you, Decker. Who knows? Maybe she’ll miss the water when the well runs dry. Let’s face it, at this point she’s taking your attention for granted. Take it away, and see what happens.”
Decker let Colton’s words sink in. His cousin could be right. He had tried everything in his considerable arsenal to get Desiree to go out with him. Cards, flowers, emails and numerous messages left on her answering machine. And the only explanation he could get out of her as to why she wouldn’t go out with him was the fact that she’d been in love once and her fiancé had died. She was, in essence, still in love with a man who had been dead for ten years. How was he going to compete with that?
He smiled regrettably at his cousin and said, “I’ve tried everything else. I don’t suppose taking your advice could hurt.”
“Unless, of course, it backfires and she’s happy that you’re giving up,” Juan joked.
“Man, why’d you have to go there?” Will asked. “Now you’re gonna make him doubt himself even more than he already does.”
“No, he’s right,” Decker said quickly. “There is the possibility that this will backfire. But at least I’ll know for sure that she’s never going to consider dating me, and then I can move on. That woman has had me in a holding position for too long. I haven’t dated another woman in over a year because of her. I’m going to qualify for sainthood soon.”
His friends got a good laugh out of that assertion, after which Colton said, “I don’t think there’s a chance of that happening.” Then he gave his cousin a serious look. “So, what’s your plan?”
Decker pursed his lips, thinking. “I’m going to send her one last bouquet tomorrow with a message that will state my case once and for all.”
Colton smiled his agreement. “One last attempt, huh?”
Decker nodded. “And if she sends them back, I’m moving on.”
There were solemn looks all around the table, true friends sympathizing with the plight of one of their own having to suffer through a case of unrequited love.
“Women can be so heartless,” Juan said, shaking his head sadly.
“We’re the real romantics,” Will said, just before downing the rest of his beer and burping.
“But you know what Adam said when God gave him Eve,” Colton put in with a smile. “Thank you, Lord. She’s way better than apples!”
“Amen!” Decker said, laughing.
* * *
“Desiree, will you slow down?” Lauren Gaines-Riley complained loudly as she and her sisters jogged in a Raleigh park on Saturday morning.
Desiree glanced back at her older sister and grinned. “Nobody told you to party all night with Colton.”
The day was bright and clear, the temperature in the low sixties. Lauren squinted at the sun before saying, “If you’re going to party with anyone all night long, it should be your husband.”
Desiree and her sisters got together every Saturday morning to exercise and catch up with each other’s lives. Desiree, thirty-one, was single and a psychologist with a private practice. Lauren, thirty-three, was an architect. She was married and had a small son. The baby of the family, Meghan, twenty-seven, was single and a history instructor at a local university. The only sisters missing were Mina, twenty-nine, who ran a lodge near the Great Smoky Mountains, several hundred miles away, and Petra, thirty-two, a zoologist presently studying the Great Apes in Central Africa.
Desiree laughed. She observed the puffiness of Lauren’s eyes and the haphazard way she’d piled her thick black hair atop her head this morning. Lauren was usually put together for every occasion. “Yes, but he could at least let you get your rest afterward. You look like you didn’t sleep a wink.”
“I’ll have you know these dark circles under my eyes are well worth a sleepless night with my man,” Lauren said, laughing, too.
“Let’s not start talking about sex,” Meghan protested. The shortest of the sisters at five-six, she had recently cut off her long black hair and now wore it in a sophisticated bob. “Let’s talk about hair, as in do you like my haircut?”
“I was trying not to say anything,” Lauren said, peering at her sister’s haircut with a critical eye. “I hope you don’t regret it like I did when I cut mine off a few years ago. Long hair can be more trouble to keep up, but it has so many more styling options. I didn’t know what to do with my short hair.”
“That’s because you were so used to long hair,” Desiree said. “I loved my short hair.”
“Then why are you letting it grow out?” asked Lauren reasonably.
“Because I think I look more intelligent with longer hair,” Desiree said.
Lauren laughed harder. “You have a doctorate in psychology. What does hair length have to do with intelligence?”
“We look on the outside how we feel on the inside,” Desiree said. “Haven’t you ever wondered why everyone has their own sense of style? Everything we wear, how we style our hair, it all depends on how we feel about ourselves. I think I look smarter with my hair in a bun. That’s how I wear it when I’m in session. Looking intelligent makes my clients more confident in my ability to help them.”
Lauren sighed loudly. “Wearing your hair up has no effect on your ability to help your clients. Your dedication coupled with your education and your willingness to give of yourself to everyone who comes to you for help is what makes you a good psychologist, my dear sister!”
“We all have little behaviors we rely on to make it through the day,” Desiree said. “You, for example, have a habit of rubbing your left earlobe when you’re thinking hard about something.”
“I do not!” Lauren cried, brown eyes sparkling with humor.
“Yes, you do,” Meghan confirmed. She looked at Desiree. “What mannerisms do I have?”
Desiree grinned at her. “You have a habit of shaking your leg nervously when you’re sitting at the dinner table. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but you tend not to close things after opening them. You leave drawers open, cabinet doors, closet doors. When we were living at home with Mom and Dad, I used to go behind you, closing things. It drove Mom mad, but I don’t think she ever caught you at it.”
Meghan laughed heartily. “No, you’re wrong, I know I have that problem, but I still can’t shake it. I’ll go behind myself to this day and close things hours after I’ve left them open.” She looked at her sister with admiration. “That’s why you became a psychologist. You’re very observant of people.”
“That and the cute boy she wanted to meet, who happened to be taking Psychology 101 at the time,” Lauren quipped.
Desiree frowned, remembering how she had fallen in love with Noel Alexander her freshman year while sitting behind him in Psychology 101. He was tall and well built with the most beautiful milk-chocolate skin and dark brown eyes. She had been so in awe of him, she couldn’t bring herself to walk up to him and introduce herself. If they hadn’t accidentally bumped into each other one day while entering their classroom, they would never have met. Once Noel looked into her eyes, sparks flew and they were inseparable from that day forward.
“Why’d you have to bring him up?” she asked Lauren irritably. “I’m trying to forget I ever knew that creep.”
Desiree picked up her pace. But her older sister was soon at her side again.
“You need to talk about it,” Lauren said.
She and Meghan flanked Desiree.
Desiree sighed deeply and rolled her eyes. “I already told you two what happened.”
“Yes, but it’s been over a week now, and you haven’t said how it makes you feel,” Meghan said gently. “Finding out the man you loved, a man you idolized, cheated on you, must make you feel something!”
“And the way his mother just blurted it out in the middle of the cemetery like that,” Lauren put in. “After ten years of keeping his son a secret! Come on, Desi, that must have pissed you off.”
“Of course it pissed me off,” Desiree said angrily. “What really irks me about it is I don’t believe she would have told me at all if Noel Jr. hadn’t been with her, and I immediately saw the resemblance between him and Noel. I think it was the look in my eyes that made her spill her guts. But what am I supposed to do about it, go cuss out a dead man?”
“Why not?” Lauren asked reasonably. “We’ll go with you and make a party of it. We’ll go at midnight and burn candles on his grave. And after you’re finished cussing him out, we’ll toast your new beginning with champagne.”
“So that’s it,” Desi said, looking at Lauren suspiciously. “You think this is going to throw me into a depression.”
“You did have that man on a pedestal for ten years,” Meghan reminded her. “Whenever some other guy got too close to you, you would whip him out as the perfect example of fidelity and true love. No other man could compare to him. Now that you know he wasn’t perfect, you must be regretting those lost years.”
“Damn right I regret them. But I can’t blame Noel for that. I was the one who chose to hide behind him in order to avoid relationships. I understand that about me.”
“Then why won’t you give Decker a chance?” asked Lauren.
“Because dating Decker Riley is just asking for trouble,” Desiree said. “That man is sex personified. Noel was good-looking, but he didn’t compare to Decker. If Noel could rip my heart out with his behavior, Decker will eviscerate me.”
“I never took you for a coward,” Lauren said. Her expressive brown eyes held a challenge in them.
Desiree knew that look well. Her big sister had been goading her into action all her life. This time she was not going to take the bait. “Well, where he’s concerned, I’m a coward!”
Then she sprinted ahead of her sisters. And since she was by far the fastest runner in the family, she left them in her dust.
Chapter 2 (#ulink_f9091da6-93a3-5efc-a1be-b0dd8c724929)
As was his habit, Decker personally went to the florist’s to choose the flowers he wanted Desiree to receive. He picked a spring bouquet because whenever he saw her, she was always turned out in the most appealingly feminine way. And it had not escaped his notice the past two years that pink was her signature color. She wore it in deep shades. She wore it in paler shades. It complemented her coppery brown skin, making it appear more beautiful than it already was. He thought about all this as he was running the wilderness trail he frequented on weekends. It was only a short drive from his neighborhood, the wooded surroundings were calming and the air out here reminded him of the mountains, which he loved.
He glanced down at his watch. It was almost noon. He was nearing the end of his run, and he could see the secluded parking area up ahead where he’d left the SUV. There were more cars there now than when he’d gotten here. He slowed his pace until he was walking, which allowed his heart rate to return to normal before it would be time to get into his car and drive home. As he walked to the SUV, he wondered what Desiree had thought when she read the card. Would she think he was giving her an ultimatum? If so, that hadn’t been his goal. He had just wanted her to know he cared for her, but he also knew when to throw in the towel. Now the ball was in her court.
Stoicism aside, though, he truly hoped she would call him, as he’d requested. If only his appeal had gotten through to her.
* * *
When Desiree got home from the park, there was a beautiful bouquet of spring flowers on the foyer table. She paused only a moment to appreciate their beauty.
She didn’t linger over them because she knew who they were from: Decker. She had nothing against Decker, but Noel’s infidelity was still too fresh in her mind for her to take any pleasure from them, or the sweet sentiments he invariably included in his notes. She resolved to ignore Decker Riley. Refused to even read the note. Then she headed to the kitchen for a bottle of water. Mrs. Neale, her housekeeper, had left a message for her on the dry-erase board on the wall next to the fridge. “Accepted flower delivery for you. Have you got a new beau?”
Desiree laughed at Mrs. Neale’s comment. Honestly, why was everybody so eager to see her with a man? First her sisters, now Mrs. Neale. She was perfectly fine by herself. All she needed was to stay so busy with work and physical activities that she wouldn’t have time to obsess about Noel, or dream about Decker’s sexy gray eyes.
She was looking forward to her karate work-out with John next week. That usually helped to calm her and focus her thoughts.
* * *
“I’m older than you, so go easy on me,” John Tanaka complained as Desiree’s foot came a bit too close to his head while they were practicing karate in his basement. The room had been transformed into a large space for exercising. Atop the wooden floor was a thick rubber mat, and it was on this surface that they were going through their paces, each of them barefoot and attired in a gi, the lightweight two-piece garment common to martial arts, with black belts tied around their waists.
They faced each other again, in fighting stances, bouncing on the balls of their feet, each trying to figure out the other’s weaknesses. In the past hour they’d worked up quite a sweat.
“Sorry,” Desiree said, not breaking her concentration. John was not only her sensei; he was her therapist. They’d met three years ago at a psychology conference, and in the course of their conversation, they’d learned they were both into karate. John had learned the discipline from his father and practiced the Japanese style of the martial arts. Desiree had wanted to learn from him, so she suggested they try a practice session. Once they got on the mat, they knew they were compatible. It was John who suggested they give each other free psychological sessions while they worked out, killing two birds with one stone. So while they worked out their physical bodies, they also worked out their emotional problems.
“What angers you more?” John asked as he circled her. “That he cheated on you, or that you were oblivious to it?”
“What angers me is that I trusted him implicitly,” Desiree said. She watched him closely because John had catlike reflexes honed from years of karate. He was fifteen years her senior and had been brought up in the discipline, whereas she’d only been a student since she was seven. It was difficult to focus on what he might do next and talk about the recent revelations concerning Noel that had left her so shaken. “Then, too, I’m pissed off because I wasted ten years mourning a man who obviously didn’t love me as much as he said he did. On top of that, he’s been dead for nearly a decade, and he still came out of this better than I did. He has a wonderful son, John. The boy seemed so sweet. He’s respectful and adores his grandmother. And what do I have? I’m still single, and I have no prospects whatsoever!”
John laughed derisively. For a moment, Desiree’s feelings were hurt that he would ridicule her like this when she was pouring her heart out to him. But one look into his sly eyes, and she knew that he was just trying to get a rise out of her. He wanted her to fight for her life, not complain about it.
“Get real,” John said. “I have no sympathy for a woman with a successful practice, family and friends who love her, who’s stunning and has men tripping over themselves trying to get next to her, men whom she ignores because she’s too scared to take another chance on love!” Then he cracked his neck, as he had a habit of doing when he was getting ready to strike like an angry viper. One day she would tell him that she had learned his many tells, but not today. She yelled, moved forward and flipped him, sending him sprawling onto his back on the thick exercise mat.
John landed hard. After he’d caught his breath, he looked up at her. “Are you done working off your anger yet? I’m going to be black-and-blue in the morning.”
Desiree laughed and offered him a hand. John accepted it and got to his feet. He was around her height, five-eight, but he outweighed her by thirty pounds. Desiree often thought he looked like Keanu Reeves, with his dark, longish hair, now sprinkled with silver, dark brown eyes and olive skin.
He looked into her eyes now, his own lit with humor. “At the risk of more bruises, I’m going to say something to you, Desi.”
Desiree smiled. “Your observations are always appreciated, Sensei.” She bowed respectfully.
“Call the hot lawyer who’s been pursuing you. Have a torrid affair. You’ve got ten years of pent-up sexual energy that needs to be expended.”
Desiree grinned. “Is that your professional advice?”
John smiled. “No, it’s the advice of a dear friend.”
They began walking to the back of the room, where Desiree had left her belongings on a bench. “Maybe I will. He sent me a beautiful bouquet of spring flowers last Saturday.”
John’s eyebrows arched with curiosity. “Did you send them back?”
“No, I kept them.” Desiree suddenly realized that she had neglected to phone Decker and thank him for the flowers. Not only that, but she hadn’t read his card yet, which was still somewhere in the bottom of her shoulder bag.
“Oh, my God, I feel terrible. I didn’t even call to thank him for the flowers. I’ve never forgotten to thank him before. It slipped my mind!” She quickly grabbed her shoulder bag and a fresh towel she’d brought with her from the bench. “I’ve gotta go. Thanks for the workout, Sensei! Give my best to Evan.” She bent and slipped on her sneakers, quickly tying the laces.
John’s eyes softened at the thought of his longtime partner. “Can I tell him you’re going to call the hot lawyer?”
“Yeah,” Desiree said as she ran up the basement stairs. “But tell him not to get his hopes up because the hot lawyer might not even accept my call after I waited a week to thank him for the flowers.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” John said confidently.
Chapter 3 (#ulink_c2f0e701-9e14-54d8-ba88-10cf3da3d3d0)
The first thing Desiree did when she got to her car that Monday evening after her workout with John was to lean against it and dig in her shoulder bag for Decker’s card. She felt bad about not calling him before now. Even when she rejected his flowers, she always phoned to thank him for the thought, after which he’d make a joke about it and they’d end up laughing together before ending the call. She made sure he knew it wasn’t because she disliked him that she refused to go out with him. It was because he wasn’t her type. Plus, there was the fact that they were related by marriage. She couldn’t behave standoffish with him because she saw him at all sorts of family functions. She didn’t ignore him, or turn and leave the room when he entered. She was always civil and kind. The truth was, if not for the fact that he had a reputation for being a ladies’ man, he might actually be her type. He was good at his job, devoted to family and friends, to say nothing of being a total hottie. She did have eyes!
She finally found the card and removed it from its tiny envelope. She immediately recognized Decker’s expressive cursive writing and smiled. The message read “Desi, I know when to cut my losses. If I don’t hear from you after you receive these flowers, I’ll know you’re never going to give me the chance to love you the way you deserve to be loved. Yet I’m still hoping to be yours someday, Decker.”
Suddenly weak in the knees, Desiree leaned heavily against the car door, her gaze lingering on the note. She didn’t know why she felt like this: happy and sad at the same time. Decker had never written anything so heartfelt on his cards before. The messages usually consisted of things like “Go out with me already” or “How about dinner tomorrow night?” Once he’d written “Hello from your friendly neighborhood stalker.”
Standing there in John’s driveway, she realized that Decker might be thinking things were over between them for good since she hadn’t bothered to phone him. That must have been why he’d written that if he didn’t hear from her, he would know she didn’t want anything to do with him and would give up.
She was torn. Did she really want him to give up on her? To be honest, she had gotten some kind of weird satisfaction out of having a gorgeous man pursuing her. Flattery wasn’t the half of it. Decker Riley provided the closest thing she’d had in her life that could be construed as a relationship with a man. John was right: she was scared to take another chance on love. Decker had been safe because she could hold him at bay.
Did she have the courage to call him and ask him out? If she didn’t, what did that make her, a pseudopsychologist? How could she help anyone else when she couldn’t even overcome her own shortcomings? How could she advise anyone else about life when her own was so messed up?
She slipped the card back into her shoulder bag and got behind the wheel of the SUV. Picking up her cell phone, she ran a finger across the touch screen and selected Decker’s cell phone number.
He answered after three rings. “Desiree?” He sounded tentative, as though he was unsure as to why she’d phoned him.
“Do you have a moment?” she asked softly.
“I’m home,” he said. “You can have all the time you need.”
“Thank you for the flowers.”
He sighed. “It’s been a week. I thought you weren’t going to call.” He didn’t sound upset, though, just wary.
“I got sidetracked. I’ll tell you about it sometime.”
“You promise?”
“Yes, maybe over dinner?”
“You mean it?”
“Yes, Decker,” she said with a short laugh. “I mean it. I know it’s been a long time coming, but I’d like to see where a date with you will lead. Do you accept the challenge?”
He laughed, too. “Hell, yeah, I accept! I know exactly where I want to take you for dinner.”
“Where is that?” she asked, her tone entirely too expectant for her comfort. She didn’t want to sound overly eager.
“Don’t you worry about where,” said Decker. “Just tell me which night you’re available, the time to be at your place and leave the rest to me. Are you game?”
Desiree was grinning now. This could be fun, a bit of spontaneity in her well-ordered life. “All right, Friday night at eight.”
“I’ll be there, beautiful. Wear your dancing shoes.”
“You dance?”
“Of course I dance. All Riley men dance.”
“What about Riley women?”
“Who do you think teach the Riley men?”
She laughed delightedly. “Then your mom taught you to dance?”
“She started when I was five years old. She told me all Southern gentlemen should know how to conduct themselves on the dance floor. She’s very old-school.”
Desiree had met his mother, June, on several occasions and liked her. She was always kind to her and, like her son, had a killer sense of humor. But she didn’t strike her as old-school. She dressed beautifully in the latest designer fashions and drove a sports car, fast.
She laughed at his assertion. “Your mom’s ultramodern, and you know it.”
“That she is,” Decker admitted. “Deep down, though, she’s traditional. She’s getting very impatient with me.”
“About?”
“Bringing some nice girl home to meet her and Dad,” Decker said. “She likes you.”
“I like her, too, but let’s not talk about that until after the first date, okay?”
Decker laughed. “I’m getting a little ahead of myself, huh?”
“A little,” Desiree said with a smile.
“I can hear a smile in your voice,” Decker said. “You’re not turned off by the thought. I’ll take that. See you Friday night. Do you like Italian food?”
“Love it. Should I wear something casual or dressy?” Desiree asked before he could hang up.
“Let’s keep it casual for the first date,” Decker said.
“Okay,” Desiree returned. “And Decker?”
“Yes?” he asked. His voice was so deep and sexy that Desiree could have sworn her toes were curling.
“Thanks for being so understanding about my not phoning sooner.”
“You’re welcome,” was all he said, and they ended the call.
Desiree sat in her car for a moment, smiling. That hadn’t turned out the way she had anticipated. She had believed she was making the call to prove to herself that she wasn’t a coward and could go forward with her life. But once she heard Decker’s voice, something inside her melted. She began to genuinely look forward to going out with him and getting to know him better than the “surface Decker” she had known for the past two years. She couldn’t wait until Friday night.
* * *
Decker stood for a moment in his chef’s kitchen, looking dumbly at the cordless phone in his hand before putting it back in its cradle. He couldn’t believe Desiree had suddenly had a change of heart and decided to give them a chance. Now he was dying to know why. What had made her do it?
Maybe she’d confided in her sister. He picked up the phone again and dialed Colton’s cell. Colton didn’t answer. When it went to voice mail, Decker hung up. He wanted to speak directly to his cousin. He dialed Colton and Lauren’s home number.
Lauren answered, and she sounded a bit breathless. “Decker, what’s up?”
“Lauren, have you spoken with Desiree lately?”
“We briefly chatted earlier today,” Lauren said. And then she said something softly to someone who was evidently with her at the moment. Decker couldn’t make out what she’d said.
The next voice he heard was Colton’s. “Look, Decker, unless this is a life-or-death situation, we’ll call you back later. We’re busy, if you know what I mean.”
“Sorry,” Decker said, chuckling. “I just wanted to let you know your plan worked. Desiree just phoned me. We’re going out Friday night.”
“What!” Decker heard Lauren shout. Then she apparently took the phone from her husband. “When did this happen?” She sounded delighted, which made Decker grin even wider.
“A few minutes ago,” Decker said. “Did she mention anything to you about why she changed her mind about me?”
“No,” Lauren said, her tone puzzled. “I’m as surprised as you are, but I’m happy to hear it.” She paused. “She has gone through something traumatic recently, though, so maybe that had something to do with her sudden turnaround. But that, I’m afraid, is something she’ll have to tell you about herself.”
Decker was instantly concerned for Desiree. Something traumatic, Lauren had said. Now his curiosity was doubly engaged. But he didn’t press Lauren. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll let you get back to what you were doing. Thanks, Lauren.”
“Congrats,” Lauren said. “Treat her like the queen she is!”
“You know I will,” he said with a smile.
After he’d hung up, he sat on a stool at the island in the kitchen, his brow furrowed by a frown. His heart ached with the knowledge that Desiree was in emotional pain right now, and he could do nothing to lessen it.
He got up and went to the fridge to get ingredients for a quick beef strip stir-fry. Cooking always calmed him and helped him think. Ironically, it was his father and not his mother who’d given him his appreciation of cooking. Thaddeus Riley, whom everyone called Tad, told his son that knowing how to cook upped a man’s chances of landing the right woman. He swore that was how he’d won June’s heart.
As he chopped fresh vegetables at the counter, he thought about the first time he’d seen Desiree. The occasion had been a sad one. It was at his uncle Frank’s funeral. The service had ended, and those attending were spilling out of the church, preparing to go to the cemetery for the interment. He’d spotted a tall, shapely woman in a dark skirt suit standing in the middle of the crowd looking around as if she’d misplaced someone. He’d been instantly drawn to her, and before he knew it he was standing in front of her, offering to help her find whomever she had lost.
Desiree Gaines had creamy golden-brown skin, and when she looked up at him, she blushed noticeably. Her eyes were the color of honey, big, wide-spaced and thickly lashed. He remembered that when his gaze had fallen on her mouth, his heart skipped a beat. Those full lips looked so inviting, he had sighed inwardly when she parted them and said, “I’m all right, thank you. I see my sister just a little ahead of me over there.” She had pointed at a woman who favored her but was a couple of inches taller.
Decker knew he was running out of time at that point and had started talking fast. “Look, I know this is going to sound strange at a funeral, but you are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen, and having just found you, I don’t want to lose you again.” He reached into his jacket pocket, retrieved one of his cards and pressed it into her palm. He had felt her reluctance to let him do that. She withdrew her hand from his at the first opportunity. But Decker was determined not to let that be the last time they met.
He held up his hands to show that he meant her no harm, and said, while backing away, “I’ve got to go. They’re waiting on me so we can go on to the cemetery, but call me, please. You won’t regret it.”
Desiree had merely smiled at him with a somewhat doubtful expression on her beautiful face. He had never expected to see her again. But less than two hours later, she had shown up at his aunt Veronica’s house with her sister, Lauren. Decker only learned later that Lauren and Colton were an item by then. He just thanked his lucky stars that he’d gotten another chance to speak with Desiree.
He laughed now. Not that it got me anywhere, he thought. She still made me wait two years.
* * *
“How do you feel about gaining five more pounds?” Desiree asked Madison Samuelson, age fifteen, who was seeing her for treatment for the psychological effects of anorexia nervosa.
It was Tuesday afternoon, and they were in her office, decorated to put her clients at ease. The furnishings were modern pieces done in expensive brown leather. The pillows, rugs and draperies were in earth tones, and the hardwood floor was light pine. The windows were double-paned to prevent outside noises from intruding.
Desiree sat in a chair with her legs crossed opposite Madison, who sat on the couch with her legs tucked underneath her. She had medium brown skin and big light brown eyes. Her shoulder-length hair was in braids, and she invariably wore a scarf over it, which made Desiree wonder why she covered her head. Was she hiding something? Sometimes girls who had issues such as Madison’s inflicted pain on themselves by pulling their hair out at the roots, cutting themselves, anything that made them forget their mental pain for a moment.
“I feel good!” Madison cried, eyes looking anywhere but directly at Desiree. Desiree recognized this as avoidance. Madison wasn’t here willingly. Her parents had insisted she come to these sessions, and she probably didn’t think they were doing any good. When Desiree had first seen Madison, who was five-five, she had weighed only eighty pounds. Today she weighed a hundred and five pounds, and her skin, hair, teeth, everything about her physical body looked much healthier. But Desiree was still concerned that so far what they’d been able to accomplish was only a Band-Aid on the surface of what was a much deeper cut to Madison’s psyche.
They still hadn’t gotten to the root of the problem. Why Madison had started starving herself. Madison would only say some girls at school had told her she looked fat, and she’d wanted to fit in, so she had started eating less. Soon eating less had turned into eating practically nothing in a twenty-four-hour period. She’d been rushed to the hospital with heart failure before her parents realized how far gone she was.
Desiree suspected Madison harbored resentment for her parents because they hadn’t noticed her going downhill sooner. However, Madison had never said a word against her parents. Her comments, in fact, were always positive, as if giving upbeat responses would get her out of therapy that much quicker.
Until now, Desiree hadn’t wanted to put any pressure on Madison, believing that the girl would respond to simply having someone to listen to her grievances. However, Madison was pretending she didn’t have anything to complain about.
Therefore Desiree would have to take a different approach to the girl’s treatment: anger. Some people had to get angry before they could move on to the next level.
“Madison,” Desiree said, looking at the girl’s face, which was impassive. “How do you suppose your parents missed the fact that you were practically skin and bones before they noticed you needed help?”
Madison swung her legs off the couch and sat up, staring at Desiree with her mouth agape and eyes wide. She gasped and closed her mouth. She looked at Desiree with one eyebrow raised higher than the other, as if to say, “Oh, no, you didn’t go there!”
Desiree fought to keep her facial expression neutral because she was delighted that she’d gotten a rise out of the girl. There was actually some spunk left in her!
Madison looked her straight in the eye and said, “Because they were too busy working, chasing the mighty dollar, to see that I was dying.”
“And what were you doing?” Desiree asked. “Wearing baggy clothes to hide your body? Pretending to eat at the dinner table, but really throwing food away? Are you saying you had nothing to do with their complacency, their blindness, where your condition was concerned, Madison?”
“Oh, yeah, sure, I was sneaky about things, but they should have still noticed! I needed them, and they weren’t there. The only thing they were interested in was that my grades were good and I was on schedule for the perfect life they had planned for me. A 4.0 grade point average, my mother’s alma mater, Howard University, becoming a lawyer like both of them, those were the things they cared about. Not the fact that I was being bullied at school, told I was fat and ugly and that no boy would want to be seen with me.”
“Did you try to talk to them about what was going on at school?”
“Yeah,” Madison said with a grimace. “They just said it was a part of growing up and to suck it up. It would give me character.”
“So you turned your rage inward and started punishing yourself,” Desiree said. “You started starving yourself because you felt like no one cared about you?”
Madison’s eyes brightened. She let out a huge sigh and returned to her more relaxed position on the couch with her feet tucked under her. Looking at Desiree with a smile on her face, she said, “After six months, you finally figured me out. I was beginning to lose hope. Not that I didn’t get a big kick out of knowing my parents have to pay a huge fee to you so that I can come here and sulk once a week. But really, Doctor D, I figured you were as full of crap as my parents. But you really know your stuff.”
Desiree smiled at her. “Why do I feel as though you’re just telling me what I want to hear?” She leaned forward, keeping her gaze on Madison’s. “That may be part of it. But I don’t think you’re being entirely truthful with me. Why don’t you take off that scarf you have on? And then we can get down to the real reason you wanted to die, Madison.”
“No,” Madison said adamantly. Her eyes narrowed. Her jaw clenched, and her bottom lip protruded. Desiree thought she looked as if she would rather fight her than take that scarf off.
“Have you replaced one bad habit with another?” Desiree asked. “You have everyone watching you like a hawk, making sure you’re eating right and keeping it down. But maybe when you’re alone in your room, you do something else to punish yourself.”
Madison got to her feet and yelled down into Desiree’s face, “I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do. And you can’t make me, you nosy bitch!”
Desiree sat in her chair and calmly looked up at Madison. “That’s right, I’m a nosy bitch. For six months you’ve sat on that couch lying to me, and I’m tired of it. If you don’t think you’re worth saving, why should I? If you don’t want to fight for your life, why should I?” Now she stood, her eyes never leaving Madison’s face. “You want to know a secret, Madison? We are born into this world alone, and we die alone. In between life and death, those of us who survive learn one valuable lesson—we’ve got to love ourselves. We can’t count on others to love us, because human beings are selfish. They live in their own worlds. You’ve got to love yourself, Madison. You’ve got to care about yourself if no one else does. And you’ve got to fight to stay alive! Now, you can leave here today, resenting your parents, parents who love you, no matter how much you think they don’t, and thinking of me as that nosy bitch who has wasted your valuable time, or you can choose to live, take care of yourself, be strong and accept the fact that no one can do it for you. I’m not going to waste any more of your parents’ money on sessions with you, Madison. If you want to be rid of me, you are rid of me. Don’t come back here.” She pointed to the door. “Now get out. The big bad world is waiting for you. Either it will eat you up, or you’ll learn to fight back and choose life, your choice!”
Madison was looking at her as though she’d lost her mind. She angrily snatched her shoulder bag off the couch and began walking toward the door. “I’m going to tell my parents how you talked to me, and they’re going to sue your ass.”
“That’s fine. Your mother’s just outside that door in the waiting room,” Desiree said, undaunted. “Goodbye, Madison.”
For a moment, Madison stood frozen, staring at her; then her mouth began trembling, and she started crying. She looked at Desiree helplessly, tears soaking her cheeks. “I’m scared,” she said pitifully. In a defeated gesture, she dropped her shoulder bag back onto the couch and reached up to remove the scarf. Desiree gasped when she saw the many bald spots on the girl’s scalp. She had to force herself to stand there, when her gut reaction was to immediately comfort Madison. Meanwhile the brave teen struggled to find her next words. “He said no one would ever believe me if I told,” Madison finally said.
“He?” Desiree gently coaxed.
“Mr. Sawyer, my math teacher. I’m his classroom aide. His class is the last of the day, and I stay late and help him collect papers to grade, clean the classroom, that kind of thing. It started with warm hugs, and then one day he just grabbed me. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t do that. I knew girls who did, but I didn’t do that. Now I’m one of them. I’m one of those girls who let boys do things to them. I let him, and I keep letting him.”
Desiree was across the room and pulling Madison into her arms in a flash. She had known there was more to Madison’s suffering, but she had not imagined anything this horrible.
“Everything’s going to start getting better from this moment,” she promised Madison as she rocked the girl in her arms. “He’s never going to touch you again. He’s never going to touch any child again.”
Madison wept, and Desiree got madder. “Baby girl, men like Sawyer not only molest young girls’ bodies, but they manipulate them and prey on their minds. But you can get the power that he took from you back by making sure that he’s punished for what he did to you. You’re not the victim here. You’re the strong one.”
She walked over to her desk with Madison still in her arms and pressed the intercom on her phone. When her assistant, Mellie, answered, she said, “Mellie, tell Mrs. Samuelson to get in here now.”
Chapter 4 (#ulink_93b5e872-044e-51e9-8a67-ab75115cccd8)
Decker was having a good week. With the aid of a crack private investigation team that worked for his firm, he’d successfully represented a construction company owner accused of killing his business rival. The investigators had uncovered evidence the police had overlooked, proving that Decker’s client had been set up by the wife of his rival who sought not only to get rid of her husband and collect the insurance money, but to let someone else take the blame for her crime.
It was with much satisfaction, on Friday afternoon, that Decker heard the judge proclaim, “Case dismissed!”
Decker turned to his client and shook his hand. The poor man appeared almost faint with relief. He enthusiastically pumped Decker’s hand. “I can’t thank you enough!” he cried, with tears of happiness in his eyes.
“My pleasure,” Decker assured him. “Now go hug your wife.”
His wife was waiting just behind them. Decker picked up his briefcase and he and his paralegal, Mike Lofton, left the courtroom. On the way down the courthouse steps, his cell phone rang. It was his administrative assistant, Kym Johnson. “Sir, I’ve got mayoral candidate Todd Pratt on the other line. He’s been arrested on corruption charges. He wants you to represent him.”
“Not another corrupt politician,” Decker complained. Last year he’d represented a former state senator accused of accepting bribes. Turned out the senator had lied through his teeth when he said he was innocent, and all it took was a good attorney to convince the jury of it. Well, Decker had fought valiantly while evidence of the senator’s guilt had piled up. The senator had gone to prison. After that Decker vowed to stay clear of politicians. “Tell him he’ll have to get himself another lawyer,” Decker told Kym.
“Whatever you say, sir,” said Kym.
Decker put his phone away and turned to Mike, an eager young man who was working as a paralegal while he studied for his law degree. “You know what, Mike,” Decker said, looking up at the clear blue, late March sky, “why don’t you take the rest of the day off? I think I’ll head home.”
Mike beamed. “Why, thank you, sir.”
“Go have fun,” Decker said. He was feeling magnanimous. An innocent man was free to go home with his loving wife. It was a beautiful spring day. Best of all, he was going to be seeing Desiree in a matter of hours.
He and Mike said their goodbyes and parted, going in opposite directions. Decker walked swiftly to the parking garage across the street. He couldn’t wait to see Desiree.
They’d spoken over the phone a couple of times this past week but had not seen each other. When they were on the phone he’d ask her how she was doing, wanting her to open up to him and tell him what sort of traumatic experience she’d recently gone through. But he could tell from her tone that she’d wanted to keep things light between them. He’d then asked her about work, which she said she couldn’t talk about much because of doctor/patient confidentiality. She would make vague references to her clients like how she felt close to a breakthrough with one patient, or she felt she wasn’t getting anywhere with another one, but never any mention of a specific mental illness.
As a lawyer, he understood the need to keep privileged information under wraps. He simply wanted her to share her life with him.
He tossed negative thoughts aside as he climbed into the SUV, drove out of the parking garage and headed home. He had a great night planned for them. He was taking her to his favorite Italian restaurant in downtown Raleigh. They served Tuscan-inspired Italian cuisine. The atmosphere was relaxed, just the sort of place he and Desiree could sit and talk, laugh a little, get to know each other better. Then they’d go to a little jazz club he knew where they could have a drink and dance the night away. It was Friday; they could stay out late. He would like nothing better than to see the sun rise with Desiree tomorrow morning. But he would take his cues from her. Whatever the lady wanted would be his pleasure to give her.
* * *
Desiree’s doorbell rang at six that evening. She had been home only about thirty minutes and was preparing to take a long soak in the tub. She walked through her Mediterranean-style home, attired in a bathrobe, and looked through the peephole.
Her sisters stood on the portico, waving enthusiastically. She swung the door open, one hand on her hip. “What are you two doing here?”
Shaking her head in mock consternation as she strode inside, Lauren said to Meghan, “She hasn’t had a date since God created the world, and she’s asking what we’re doing here.”
“We’re here to help you prepare for your date,” Meghan said, holding up a bottle of champagne. “And to get you slightly drunk, so you’ll relax and have a good time with Decker tonight.”
Lauren closed and locked the door, and she and Meghan followed Desiree upstairs to her master bedroom, where she immediately began pulling clothes from Desiree’s closet and placing them on the bed while Meghan popped the cork on the champagne. Meghan ran to the sink in the adjacent bathroom and let the residual foam spill from the bottle’s mouth into the sink. Then she drank some of the delicious bubbly directly from the bottle.
“What, are you uncivilized?” Desiree cried. “Go downstairs and get some glasses, baby sister!”
Meghan laughed. “No, tonight you’re going to drink from the bottle, choose something sexy to wear, something that’ll make Decker’s eyes pop out of his head, and you’re going to stay out late and scandalize nosy Mrs. Brown next door when you drag yourself home just before sunrise.” She shoved the bottle at Desiree. “Here, drink!”
Desiree took the champagne and drank a little. It was cold and dry, just the way she liked it. But the last thing she wanted to do was get a little intoxicated before going out with Decker.
Drinking made her lose her inhibitions. She needed her inhibitions with Decker because they were the only things that would help her maintain a sense of decorum around him tonight. All week she’d found herself daydreaming about him. She hadn’t seen him in a while, not since the last family get-together at Colton and Lauren’s house about three months ago. And she had no photographs with him in them. So she had to rely on memory to recall how devastatingly handsome he was. Because of this, each time she found herself face-to-face with him, she was stunned by how bad her memory was. He was always much more appealing in the flesh than in her imagination. The man was endowed with a powerful presence. She couldn’t deny that. So staying sober seemed like a good idea right now. She dutifully handed the bottle back to Meghan and announced, “I’m going to take a bath.”
“You do that,” said Meghan, turning toward the walk-in closet where Lauren was riffling through Desiree’s clothes.
Desiree got into the tub of warm, fragrant water, relaxed with her head against an inflated pillow and closed her eyes. She hoped her sisters would give her a few minutes of alone time, but that hope was instantly dashed when Lauren called from the closet, “Didn’t Decker say tonight was casual? Do you own any jeans at all?”
Desiree sighed. “Not the jeans talk again. You know I don’t wear jeans. I’m not a jeans girl. I wear slacks sometimes, but I don’t like jeans.”
“Are you human?” Meghan joked. “Who doesn’t like jeans?”
“Have you ever tried to kick someone while wearing tight jeans?” Desiree asked. “You can’t do it.”
Lauren laughed. “So you don’t wear jeans just in case you’re attacked and you have to defend yourself? That’s ridiculous. In that case, you don’t wear long, tight skirts, either.”
“I don’t,” Desiree confirmed.
“You still wear your Louboutin shoes,” Lauren said realistically. “Those aren’t exactly made for fighting.”
“You can kick those off,” Desiree said languidly. “Now, would you please let me pretend I’m alone at an exclusive spa with no one around except the towel boy waiting with a warm towel for me when I get out of the tub?”
“Who does the towel boy look like in your fantasy?” Meghan asked, laughing. “In mine he looks like Idris Elba.”
Before Desiree could reply, Lauren said, “Why not Leo?”
Meghan took a swig of champagne. “Honestly, that man is driving me to drink. I know he wants me. He looks at me like he could devour me. Yet he’s got it in that thick head of his that he’s too old for me, so he says we should just be friends. That’s why I’m replacing him in my fantasies with Idris.”
“You never know what’s going to happen,” Desiree said to Meghan. “I never dreamed I’d be going out with Decker, either, but here I am, preparing myself to be sniffed, possibly touched and generally, hopefully, adored by him.”
“Oh, you don’t have to hope too hard,” Lauren informed her with a laugh. “That boy already adores you. I’m just hoping the fire that ignites between you two tonight doesn’t burn down Raleigh.”
Desiree laughed at that. “I’ve admittedly gone through a very long drought, but there will be no fire tonight. There may be some smoldering embers ignited, but no fire.”
“Wait and see,” Lauren said as if she knew what she was talking about. “You’ve never been alone with a Riley man before. There’s something very sexy about those gray eyes of theirs, to say nothing of those tall, hard bodies. When God created them, he should have patted himself on the back for a job well done.”
“I’ve resisted him for nearly two years,” Desiree reminded her as she laid her head back on the pillow.
“No,” Meghan said. “You didn’t resist him, you avoided him. There’s a difference. You never let yourself be in an intimate setting with him. You never allowed yourself to be vulnerable around him. There’s a difference, as you’ll find out tonight.”
Lauren looked at Meghan with admiration. “For the youngest of the bunch, you’re pretty smart.”
“Thanks, sis,” Meghan said.
Desiree sighed. “Will you two hens let me bathe in peace?”
Instead they joined her in the bathroom, where Lauren sat down on the lowered toilet seat and Meghan perched her bottom on the dirty clothes hamper.
“Should we go over what to talk about tonight, and what not to talk about?” Lauren teased Desiree. “Let’s see...” She turned to Meghan, enlisting her help. “You can tell him about your childhood, and your education. No harm in that.”
Meghan nodded in agreement. “But don’t tell him you talk in your sleep. That can wait until the relationship progresses a little.”
“And please don’t tell him you sometimes wake up singing,” Lauren advised. “That’ll freak him out.”
Desiree splashed water on her for that. “You know I have no control over that! I sing when I’m happy.”
Lauren chuckled and got a towel from the shelf to wipe the bathwater from her face. “I’m just trying to be helpful.” Her eyes sparkled with good humor. “You know we love you, and we want you to be happy. I do get a little satisfaction from the fact that we’ve been telling you all along to give him a chance.”
“Yeah,” said Meghan. “First impressions aren’t always on the money.”
“I know,” Desiree said quietly. “Unfortunately it took being disillusioned by Noel to make me realize that if I could misjudge him, I could also have misjudged Decker. But the jury’s still out on that one, okay? This is the first date.”
“Okay, then,” said Lauren, rising. “Come on, Meghan, let’s go find something in that closet of hers that says, ‘Take me.’”
They got up to leave the bathroom. Desiree laughed. “Make that something that says, ‘You can kiss me good-night, if you want.’ But there will be no ‘taking me’ tonight!”
Lauren and Meghan laughed uproariously as they left, Lauren pausing long enough to pull the bathroom door closed after her.
Desiree slid farther down in the tub. “Alone at last,” she said with a relieved sigh.
* * *
Decker arrived at five till eight. Desiree had forced her sisters to leave half an hour earlier. They had wanted to wait and see her off with Decker, a suggestion that she instantly vetoed. She had also put the low-cut dress that Lauren had picked out for her to wear tonight back in the closet, and had chosen a more modest style.
When Decker rang the bell, she ran downstairs, purse and jacket in hand, and pulled open the door. His attention was drawn to something on the street, and when she opened the door his back was to her. He turned back around, smiling, and when he saw her, his smile broadened in appreciation. “Wow,” he said softly, his eyes running the length of her in the simple deep purple sheath dress with a black leather belt and a pair of black leather high-heeled sandals.
Desiree self-consciously touched her shoulder-length wavy black hair, which she’d combed away from her heart-shaped face. “Too dressy?” she asked.
Decker shook his head. “It’s not too anything,” he breathed. “It’s perfect. You look beautiful.”
Desiree smiled her thanks. She stood a moment, taking him in. As she’d predicted, she wasn’t prepared for the effects of Decker in the flesh. The moment she opened the door and saw him standing there, his broad back to her, the first thing she’d experienced was the wonderful scent wafting off him. It was a fresh, woodsy, utterly male smell that made her momentarily weak in the knees. Then he’d turned around and faced her, and the full onslaught of a square-jawed, clean-shaven chestnut-brown face, with deep-set gray eyes that seemed so incongruous, yet so right, caused her heartbeat to accelerate.
He looked wonderful in jeans, a short-sleeve shirt in cobalt blue, a black leather jacket and black Italian loafers. “You look great, too,” she said, suddenly shy.
Smiling, Decker stepped forward and put her hand through his arm. “I hope you’re hungry because the restaurant we’re going to serves the best Italian food you’ll ever taste.”
Desiree smiled up at him and let him lead her outside. He pulled the door closed and made sure it was locked before turning back around and peering down at her. “I have to be honest with you. I’m nervous.”
Desiree laughed shortly. “Why? We’ve known each other for some time now.”
His handsome face scrunched up in a frown. “Now that I’ve got you to go out with me, I don’t know if I can live up to your expectations.”
Desiree stopped in her tracks at the end of the walk and looked up at him. “Before this night gets started, I want to put your mind at ease. I have no expectations, except to get to know you better.” She reached up and gently touched his cheek. “So just relax, okay?”
Decker grasped the hand she’d touched him with and brought it to his mouth, kissing the palm. Desiree was shocked by how turned on she was just by the meeting of his lips with her palm.
Unless she was reading him wrong, when he raised his head, his gray eyes glittered with intense longing. The look left her slightly breathless and unbalanced. She covered her weakness with an equally weak joke: “I hope you’re not taking me to a restaurant that serves tiny portions. I’m famished, and I’m not one of those women who eat like a bird.”
Decker laughed, appearing more relaxed. “I’ve been watching you eat for a while now. I know you can put it away.”
To which Desiree laughed, and took his hand. “Come on.” And they left the house.
He helped her into the car, which was parked at the curb. Once she was in, he closed the door and quickly walked around to the driver side. Inside, he buckled up while she did the same; then he turned the key in the ignition and the car purred to life. John Legend’s latest CD was in the player. He reached over and turned the volume down. “Are you a fan?” he asked as he smoothly pulled away from the curb.
Desiree sat back on the soft leather seat. “Yes, I like him, but I’m more of a blues girl.”
“Like who?” Decker prodded.
“Lots of artists, from those who come from the Mississippi Delta school when they used mostly acoustic guitars, to Chicago-style blues where the electric guitar replaced the acoustic,” she said. “I love B.B. King, John Lee Hooker, Buddy Guy, Etta James, Koko Taylor and newer blues artists like Gary Clark Jr., Robert Cray and Keb’ Mo’.”
“Funny, I wouldn’t have pegged you for a blues lover,” Decker said, smiling at her briefly before returning his attention to the road. “I figured you for a smooth jazz aficionado. Or a Justin Timberlake fan.”
Desiree laughed softly. “Goes to show you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.” She paused, looking at his profile in the dim light of the car. “That’s the same mistake I made with you,” she said.
She heard Decker’s sharp intake of breath. She had probably shocked him by saying that.
He exhaled. Clearing his throat, he looked into her eyes for a moment without saying anything. Then he continued driving for a couple more minutes before quietly saying, “It means a lot to me that you would admit that.”
“I can admit when I make a mistake,” Desiree said, keeping her tone light even though she had filled up with emotion when she’d seen just how affected Decker had been by her confession.
She figured now was as good a time as any to tell him why she’d changed her mind about going out with him. “Do you remember me telling you about Noel Alexander, the man I was engaged to?”
He let out a nervous laugh. “How can I forget? It was the night I threw Colton a bachelor party at a strip club and some fool ran him down in the parking lot, almost killing him. That image isn’t going to leave my mind anytime soon.” He breathed deeply and exhaled. “But you comforted me at the hospital later that night.”
“I could see that you were hurting,” Desiree said softly.
“For me, it was the most hopeful night and the most disappointing where you were concerned,” he said. “You were so kind to me, and then you told me why you could never be with me. You had known true love, and you wouldn’t settle for less. And there I was, drunk, smelling like a distillery, feeling guilty because my cousin was lying in a hospital bed. I knew I didn’t stand a chance with you.”
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