by Jane Drager
A switchblade gleamed in the sunlight.
Holy shit! Gut wrenching, Deems charged after him. “Hey!”
The man whirled and flashed his knife. Gaze wild, the Hispanic bared his teeth, released the pack, and bolted toward Seventy-Fifth Street.
With a chest tighter than a vise grip, Deems slid to a stop alongside Lauren as she struggled into a sitting position. He squatted and clutched her shoulders. “You okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” She righted herself with a huff. “Now, the jackass wants to steal the bag.” She glanced at the hands on her shoulders then shifted her gaze to his. “I’m okay, Deems…really.”
He wasn’t. The damn assault unnerved him, and he sucked in a calming breath. If she had gotten hurt…
“Deems?”
“Huh?” Since he stared at her face as if waiting for bruises to rise, he cleared his throat and dropped his hands. “Sorry.”
A smile quirked her lips. “Don’t be sorry. You came to my rescue.” Pulling on her jacket sleeve, she inspected the damage. “Look at these grass stains! I’ll never scrub them out.”
The woman was assaulted in broad daylight, and all she worried about was grass stains? She should at least cry on his shoulder and make him feel all manly by holding her close. Hell, he almost had a heart attack.
Seeing a police officer on horseback gallop toward them, Deems helped Lauren to her feet.
The officer halted his horse. “A woman reported an attempted robbery. Are you the victim, ma’am?”
“That’s me.” She brushed grass and dirt from her clothes.
“Can you describe him?”
Deems stepped forward and gave the officer a full description, including the direction of his flight.
The cop repeated the words into his shoulder mike then dismounted and slipped a small notebook from his breast pocket. Clicking a ballpoint pen, the officer poised the tip over his opened notebook. “A team of officers will patrol the area around Seventy-Fifth, ma’am. In the meantime, I’ll need some personal information.”
Deems listened with half an ear since an uncontrollable urge to strangle someone had surfaced. He was so hot under the collar, he almost loosened his necktie. Why would this Hispanic man go after Lauren—who could clearly defend herself—when so many easy targets walked along the path? The cell phone addicts, for example, those constantly texting or talking, oblivious to the world around them. Why such persistence to obtain Lauren’s pack?
He studied the bag still draped over her shoulder. A typical style—not very big, a combination of nylon and leather, common enough to buy—worn by half the student population in the entire country.
The officer closed his notebook and handed Lauren a business card. “I’ll put in this report and see what develops. In the meantime, if he shows again, don’t hesitate to call 911 and mention my name for reference.”
His shoulder mike crackled. “Fist fight off Seventy-Third. Two females.”
The officer mounted his horse and tipped his hat. “I’ll be in touch, ma’am.” He galloped off.
Deems silently cursed. As part of the official police report, the officer needed Lauren’s New York address of which Deems heard nothing. Aggravation closed his ears. Dammit to hell.
Lauren turned toward him while pulling the sleeve of her jacket to expose the green smear. Her brows furrowed. “All these months of walking to class, nothing happened. Why now all of a sudden?”
He brushed grass from the back of her jacket. “The world is full of strange people, Lauren.” She had loose grass on her blue jeans, but he resisted touching her so low. “You handled that well. Most women scream at the top of their lungs. Hold still.” He picked a piece of dry grass from her hair.
She bent at the waist, and with two hands, ruffled her hair. Straightening, she faced him. “Any more?”
“Just one.” He lied as an excuse to feel the strands’ silkiness. What he wanted was to run all ten fingers through her hair and sniff. With her vanilla scent swirling around him, he barely kept temptation at bay. And now that her hair was ruffled, she looked sexy as hell.
A pair of wide eyes searched his face. “You okay?”
Oh, damn. He’d held her strand a tad too long. Dropping his hand, he frowned. “Of course, I’m okay. Nothing happened to me.” Except for the growing frustration of events spiraling out of control. Helplessness threatened to overwhelm him. She could have been hurt, and he, like a jackass, took forever to unglue his feet and move. Regrettably, robberies and assaults happened every day in a big city, and the news media inundated the viewers with unnecessary coverage, often over-sensationalizing, and creating a non-reactive mindset. He wasn’t immune to their subtle brainwash and sighed heavily. “Want to walk? We don’t have to, of course.”
“We’ll walk. I won’t let him…oops!”
Her foot had fallen into a hole. With one arm, he swooped her against him to hold her steady. “Easy there. You don’t need to break a leg to top your day.” The woman was too damn intoxicating, and to clutch her so close nearly wobbled his knees. He couldn’t breathe or think, except to wonder what she looked like without clothes.
Gripping onto his shoulder for support, she shook off the dirt covering her sneaker. “Gopher hole. Nice to see you have some wildlife in Manhattan.” A smile tugging on her lips, she glanced up. “Besides men, I mean.”
Frowning, he stared down at the hole. “I don’t know what a gopher is.”
“In my opinion, nothing but a large rat.” Finished, she stamped her foot then glanced up at him with a smirk. “You need to leave the city more often.”
Whether she just noticed his arm around her, he wasn’t sure, but she stiffened, and a wide-eyed gaze roamed over his face. Seconds later, she stretched her lips into a slow smile. Her face brightened, and he mustered every ounce of self-control not to kiss her. Friends had boundaries. He could only stare at the softness of her lips.
After a pause in space and time where the world and every movement skidded to a complete standstill, Lauren stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his.
Stunned by such a tantalizing maneuver, he held her and took whatever she gave while repeating over and over his promise to remain a friend.
But isn’t she breaking her own rules?
The realization motivated him to react. Wrapping both arms around her to draw her close, he seized her lips, half-expecting a cry of protest. When none came, he sank in his tongue while savoring the faint hint of apple on her breath. She tasted wonderful, and if she would just slip her hands around his neck… But she kept her palms flat against his suit jacket, as if wary to give in completely. Even so, the woman had an erotic touch that sent shivers down his spine. Too bad they were standing in the middle of a public park.
A dog bark returned them to their surroundings. After giving a gentle bite on his lower lip, she pushed away and stretched her lips into a dazzling smile.
Teeth and eyes sparkled at once and damn near blinded him. He refused to release her and merely loosened his arms. “You gave me more than a friendly kiss.”
Her lips pouted. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, but I couldn’t resist.” She fingered his tie. “Do you always wear suits?”
“Not to bed.”
“What do you wear during leisure activities?”
“No tie.”
Shaking her head, she broke free of his arms, snapped her fingers, and opened her palm. “I suggest you remove your tie.”
He’d strip naked if she asked but obeyed, wrapped the tie into a ball, and placed it into her palm.
Chuckling, she stuffed the ball into his jacket pocket. Then, she unbuttoned his dress shirt at the collar and stood back, smiling. “That’s better.” She adjusted her backpack, hooked her arm through his, and urged him onto the asphalt path. “That jerk spoiled my mood. I felt pretty good about the weather and the ultimate sense of freedom until he interrupted.”
“And kissing me helped?”
Her cheeks d
impled. “Oh, yeah. Thank you.”
“Happy to oblige. Kiss me anytime.” Hopefully soon, and in the privacy of a bedroom.
A woman pushing a stroller jogged by, her ponytail flapping. Another woman power-walked with weights in her hands. Six years living in New York and never once had he taken a stroll through Central Park.
“Do you ever feel good being outdoors, Deems, that great-to-be-alive feeling because the weather is so gorgeous?”
“Can’t say I have.” No sense lying. His high derived from business, not the weather, but Lauren had opened his eyes to the possibility.
She tugged on his arm to draw his gaze to hers. “Let me guess. You’re one of those type A personalities who never stops to smell the roses.”
“Only if I buy a dozen for a date.” Which hadn’t happened in a long time. That quick, her expression lost its glow. Her gaze became distant. The arm hooked in his loosened, and they walked for quite a distance in silence.
She nudged his arm. “I guess you never longed for wide-open spaces.”
Uh-oh. The comment slashed too close to the quick. He was no more a country boy than she was a city slicker. He cleared his throat. “Since my job involves high-rises in big cities, I have no need to venture into the country.”
She tugged on his arm. “What about vacations? Do you go anywhere?”
“I rarely take a vacation.”
Her gaze snapped toward him. “Why not? You can’t work all the time.”
Evidently, he could, and a wave of depression swept over him. Lauren was so vibrant and full of life. His world included business and the accumulation of assets. Hers was a classroom full of eager faces. She liked green grass and open country. He’d be happy for weeks in the confines of his office. Vacations were trips to acquire new properties, and sightseeing added up to a total waste of time. Perhaps he should cut his losses and let her go before he sank too deep.
But he couldn’t. Lauren Howell intrigued him, and curiosity compelled him to find out why. Her calm demeanor, for example. Minutes earlier, the woman had been mugged, yet she wasn’t upset. Granted, her gaze scanned the area every several hundred feet, as would any city dweller absorbing her environment, but she showed no fear.
And with that thought…
“Jan mentioned you got burned by your fiancé.” He used his arm to squeeze hers. “Want to talk about him?”
They arrived at a junction where several paths converged. She pointed to the right. “Will this route take us back to Fifth Avenue?”
She probably knew the park better than anyone. Certainly better than him. “I think so.” He glanced in her direction. “If the breakup with your fiancé is too personal, I’ll understand.”
“What do you smell in the air, Deems?”
His mind went blank, and he stared. Then, shaking himself, he sniffed. “You. Vanilla.”
She squeezed his arm. “I’m serious. Concentrate on the strong fragrance in the air. Try to identify the scent.”
Avoidance of the fiancé question. He wasn’t surprised. Again, he sniffed. Something flowery. “I haven’t the foggiest idea.”
“Forsythias.” She pointed to the left. “Over there behind the bench. They bloom bright yellow in spring and are probably the major trigger for allergies. You can smell their fragrance without seeing them.”
“I like yours better.”
She patted his arm. “You’re sweet.” Avoiding eye contact, she focused her gaze straight ahead. “Is there a reason you called?”
Yeah, he’d become like a useless blob behind his desk because her face would not go away. Unable to verbalize that particular comment, he shrugged. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. Someone needs to watch out for you while you’re here, and considering what just happened, I arrived in time.” Barely. If he had answered one more phone call… Mustn’t think about that. He squeezed her arm. “You don’t frighten easily.”
A soft smile touched her lips, and she stared down at the path. “I’m not a poor country girl lost in the big city, Deems. I lived and worked in Harrisburg for many years before coming here.” She kicked a stone onto the grass then stared off into the distance.
“You already know about my job layoff.” She paused, her jaw tight. “On the day I had a meeting scheduled at the unemployment office, I arrived home to an empty apartment.” She glanced his way. “Totally empty. My ex cleaned out everything, even my clothes. My only possessions were the clothes on my back, my car, and my engagement ring.” Sighing, she glanced skyward. “He emptied our twenty-five thousand dollar bank account and disappeared, leaving me high and dry. The only visible evidence of occupation—besides dust balls—was the eviction notice on the kitchen counter.” She again stared at the ground. “I found out Jo-Jo hadn’t paid the rent in six months, and that piece of news was after the landlord took the escrow account.”
Seeing her this way hurt, but he dared not interrupt with questions. Somewhere in the universe was an answer to why people did what they did.
She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “The cops put out a warrant for his arrest, but technically, half of everything belonged to him. Because of the amount stolen, they still consider the crime as grand theft, and he can’t return to Harrisburg until the statute of limitations passes.”
A child ran across the asphalt path after a soccer ball.
Deems stopped Lauren until the little boy retrieved the ball and returned to his game. “Go on,” he encouraged. “Has he ever contacted you to explain?” He nudged her to continue on the path.
“Not a word. If he wanted out of the engagement, all he had to do was say so. I’m grateful my important papers, diplomas, and art work were stored at the farm. Otherwise, they’d have disappeared with the rest of my stuff.”
She leaned against him as they strolled, a gesture that made him believe she’d accepted his trust. Not like he had an inkling of psychology crap, but the feeling was the nicest compliment a woman could give a man.
“His desertion happened two weeks before my scheduled departure for New York. Antonio’s class was prepaid and non-refundable, but I had no money to travel here or to live. I almost canceled and swallowed the loss when my parents’ church offered me a loan.” She adjusted her pack’s strap. “Initially, I refused because they had earmarked the money for an expansion project, but they talked me into an arrangement that benefited both parties.” She gave him a lopsided grin. “A charge card. What I spend is what I repay. So, I skimp when possible, walk everywhere, and make my own meals to keep my costs low. Bad enough I’ll have to live with my parents until I accumulate enough cash for a place of my own.” Her arm tightened on his. “I’m a woman with a Master’s degree, and my life is a mess.”
“I’d say you’re handling the situation well enough.” For a woman with such a run of bad luck, she kept her head high and mind focused. Add maturity and drive to the list, and she exhibited a set of character traits far beyond any woman he’d ever met.
A breeze caught a few strands of her dark hair. Just that simple act of nature made her look so beautiful.
Lauren shook the hair from her face. “I received a lucky break hooking up with Jan—temporarily anyway. Sharing the rent helped a lot.”
With his gaze fixed on her face, he cocked his head. “And where are you now?”
“Just a room.” While looking down at the asphalt, she shrugged. “The rent’s cheap and will do.”
“Then I’ll ask you out more to make sure you’re eating.”
She smiled and turned a pair of misty green eyes his way. “I’ll be using you.”
“I won’t mind as long as you’re honest with me.” For a chance to gaze into those gorgeous eyes, hell, yeah, he’d buy her dinner every night.
Looking away, she grunted. “Honesty isn’t a word in my fiancé’s vocabulary.” She shook her head. “I’ll never understand what happened. He had dreams of opening his own dealership and becoming the king of used cars. All he needed was financing.”
She rested a palm against his cheek. “Thank you for being a friend.”
Her touch was like a warm feather caressing his skin, gentle yet sensual. She tingled nerve endings that caused a rise in a part of his anatomy where friends shouldn’t go. He flicked a finger under her chin. “Then, can I take you home to see where you live?”
She re-hooked her arm through his and urged him to continue on the path. “You probably need to return to work.”
“I left for the day.”
Tilting her head, she met his gaze. “You just gave me the impression of a man too busy to relax.”
“You are correct…until today.” He wasn’t lying either. Ordinarily, he’d never stop work for any reason, but this woman from apple country inadvertently dragged him away from his desk, forced him to look at the blue sky, and sniff the freshly cut grass. Nature made her happy. His happiness derived from a new business deal.
Maybe she had the right idea to call themselves friends. Their disparities were too wide to compare. Depressing but realistic. He patted Lauren’s hand. “Which way?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. Please understand.”
“Oddly enough, I do.” After hearing about her fiancé and then Eric, small wonder she trusted any man. And then, of course, she had the Hispanic’s obsession with her backpack. The woman couldn’t catch a break. Somehow, he needed to reverse the trend.
Chapter Eight
“Lauren?”
They had exited Central Park at Seventy-Eighth and Fifth Avenue and joined the always-flowing crowds on the sidewalk. Late afternoon. The beginning of the evening rush hour where an increase in people and cars made for the traditional gridlock.
She said her goodbye without a kiss or a handshake, merely two friends parting to go separate ways. But she remained on the street corner waiting for the green light to cross, her back to him. The light came and went, and still, she stood.
