“If only I looked more like—” Marta halted. “Don’t say a word. I’m not fishing for compliments.”
“Good. Because your cousin’s not my type,” he said.
What is your type? Marta choked back the words rather than give him an excuse to rave about exotic brunettes or statuesque redheads. “She’s too bossy?” she ventured instead.
“She doesn’t have the same effect on me that you do. I never thought about why.”
He might choose her over a woman like Connie? But surely he meant as a friend. “You and I are on the same wavelength. Which is odd, considering that we’re such opposites.”
“They say opposites attract. Or distract.” He adjusted his legs to a different angle beneath the low table. “I must be getting old. Dining this way doesn’t feel nearly as comfortable as it used to.”
She stretched, too, then told him about holding the six-year-old in her lap. “It’s a wonder I was able to drive home.”
“You enjoy tutoring enough to endure that?” Quickly, he clarified, “I realize volunteering isn’t something you do for amusement. Still, I’d think it’d grow stale after a few sessions.”
“Watching a child discover the magic of reading is a thrill that beats anything I can imagine.” Since he seemed interested, she went on to talk about her love of teaching and how she could hardly wait to face a whole classroom of her own.
Before she knew it, the waiter arrived with their main course, and after that the meal occupied their attention. The savory meat, stuffed grape leaves and baked eggplant proved delectable.
Derek served as guide, presenting and explaining the dishes with an instinctive sophistication. He obviously had an interest in fine food and foreign customs.
“Did you travel when you were growing up?” Marta inquired. He rarely mentioned his family.
A head shake. “My most exotic expeditions were to San Francisco, to visit my grandparents. Other than that, establishing his legal career kept Dad busy, and Mom was struggling to finish her law degree.” Bitterness underscored his tone. “Frankly, they had no business starting their family so young. I often felt in their way.”
“It isn’t always a choice,” Marta pointed out. “Maybe they didn’t plan you.”
A pucker formed between Derek’s eyebrows. “Perhaps you’re right. That hadn’t occurred to me.”
“They got lucky. You must have been a sweet child.” He had so many wonderful qualities.
“Me? I threw tantrums and turned the terrible twos into a three-year rampage,” Derek replied ruefully. “When I was five, they had my brother, and at eight my sister joined us. The four of them were compatible and cozy. I never fit in.”
“I’ll bet they adore you,” Marta protested. “No matter how many children I had, each one would be precious.”
He reached to brush a strand of hair from her temple. “That’s because you have a generous heart. My grandparents, Mom’s folks, were like that.”
“And your parents weren’t?”
“Like I said, they had more important things to do than deal with my bad behavior.” After offering her the stuffed grape leaves, he took a second helping.
“You were only a kid! Parents have to be prepared to deal with occasional misbehavior.”
“Occasional? Hardly,” he scoffed. “All through school I got in fights and ticked off my teachers. Smart-mouthed my parents, too.”
“Really?” She had trouble visualizing that side of Derek.
“I got expelled for fighting during my sophomore year in high school. My parents shipped me off to Grandma and Grandpa. For my own good, but I suspect they were glad to get rid of me.” He stared into the distance.
“They probably missed you like crazy!”
“They missed me the way you’d miss a headache,” he insisted. “Life at home with my easygoing brother and sister must have been paradise.”
“How long were you gone?” Marta asked.
“The rest of the school year.” He frowned at the memory. “I did some growing up while I was away, stopped rebelling, but I also gave up any hope of winning my parents’ love.”
“I didn’t mean to stir painful memories.” He looked so sad that Marta wished she dared hug him.
“They aren’t painful. Not around you.” He surveyed their empty plates. “Ready for dessert?”
“I’m not sure I have room.” Another kiss was what she really wanted.
“Let’s find out.” He signaled the waiter, who cleared their table and brought a plate of the crispy, honey-drenched pastries called baklava. A single birthday candle glimmered atop one piece. The waiter withdrew, taking their thanks with him.
“How delightful!” Marta inhaled the fragrance. “You ordered this in advance, didn’t you?”
“Of course. Prepare for sticky fingers,” he warned. “And you have to make a wish.”
When she shut her eyes, she realized that her longtime wish had been granted: a date with Derek. Her second was impossible: for him to love me.
A compromise instead: “I wish for us to be friends always.” She blew out the candle.
Derek shook his head. “You aren’t supposed to say it aloud.”
Oops. “Does that mean it won’t happen?”
“I’m granting an emergency dispensation. But only if you let me whisper magic words in your ear.” When she agreed, he traced his finger around the shell of her ear.
Desire twisted through Marta. “Those aren’t magic words!” she protested.
“I’m not finished.” He kissed her lobe, and then murmured a word that sounded like, “Darling.”
“What?” She couldn’t have heard correctly.
“You look darling in that dress. There. Now your wish will come true. Friends for eternity.” He reached for another piece of baklava as coolly as if nothing had passed between them. Which, from his perspective, might be true.
Marta needed to gather her wits. “I’d better wash up.” She scooted out of her seat and hurried in search of the ladies’ room.
Alone in the tiled chamber, she stared into the mirror. Her skin prickled and her body throbbed with heightened sensitivity. She ought to retreat. Call it a night. Thank the man of her dreams and slip away before this celebration spiraled out of control.
Derek’s behavior with her was probably the way he acted around every woman he dated. She didn’t dare continue this interplay much longer.
After rejoining him at the table, Marta reminded him of her earlier comment about the tutoring session. “I’ve got a major backache. My ibuprofen isn’t doing the trick. I’d better go home and soak in the tub.”
“It’s barely nine o’clock. Your cousin would kill me. Hold on. We’ll discuss this in a minute.” Derek paid for dinner, sent his compliments to the chef and escorted Marta outside.
A cool night wind brought the fragrance of jasmine coupled with the earthy smell of autumn. Despite her resolve, Marta nestled against the man as they walked to his car. His arm encircled her shoulders and his frame sheltered her from the wind.
Derek clicked open his car and held the door for her. When they were both inside, snug against the chill air, he said, “I’m the guy who picked the world’s most uncomfortable seating arrangement. So I owe you.”
“No, you don’t. I loved the restaurant.” It had been a memorable meal.
“Here’s the plan,” Derek continued. “We’ll swing by your place and pick up a swimsuit. Then we can dissolve our kinks in the hot tub at my complex.”
He dropped the remark as if hot tubbing was a natural progression of their activities. Her, Derek and an enveloping cloud of steam. Bad idea.
“I don’t wear swimsuits.” By way of clarification, Marta noted, “Not the conventional kind.”
“What do you wear at the beach?” he asked.
“Exercise shorts and a dark T-shirt.”
“Fine. We’ll collect your Victorian bathing costume and have a soak. My muscles are a bit tight, too, so you’ll be doing me a f
avor. I was afraid you’d prefer dancing and I’m not up for that.” He glanced in her direction. “Okay?”
“I…I don’t know. People might…” She couldn’t complete the sentence. Finally she settled for, “Call me old-fashioned.”
“The spa’s out in the open. Nothing secluded about it,” Derek countered. “Honestly, Marta, I’m not eager for the evening to end. I enjoy your company.”
The compliment broke down the last of her defenses. Besides, the water jets might be good for her. “Oh, why not.”
“Right decision.” He flexed his shoulders. “You’re not still worried about your hairdo, are you?”
“It served its purpose. I can go back to normal now.”
“Normal suits me fine,” Derek said.
She studied his profile against the passing streetlights. She couldn’t believe he’d kissed her tonight. And licked her ear. Unbelievable.
She didn’t intend to confess any of that to her friends. It was her secret to treasure.
Just as the rest of the evening would be. Including the hot tub.
Chapter Seven
Derek supposed he shouldn’t have pressured Marta into continuing their date, but her personality energized and tantalized him. He longed for more.
Besides, nobody ought to sit home alone on a Saturday night, especially not someone as cute as Marta. She underestimated herself if she assumed that a guy wouldn’t choose to soothe away her aches and pains rather than lose her companionship.
He didn’t see her swim outfit when she emerged from her apartment because she’d thrown jeans and a sweater over it. When she stepped from his downstairs powder room without the covering garments, however, he issued an admiring whistle.
The shorts and tee emphasized quite respectable curves. Well, respectable might not be the best word.
“Honestly!” Marta sounded indignant. “This is ugly.”
“Reminds me of a girls’ phys-ed class in high school,” Derek deadpanned.
“Just the impression a grown woman hopes to give!” She stopped and stared at him. “Hey! Look at you!”
He’d pulled on a pair of dark blue trunks that left his torso bare except for the towel slung over one shoulder. Now her appreciative gaze roamed over his lightly tanned chest and legs.
“Do you like the picture?” Derek prodded.
“I’m not blind,” Marta returned smartly. “You live up to your billing, Sarge.”
“Worth the purchase price?”
“Every penny. Of course, it wasn’t my money.” When he handed her a towel, she draped it around her neck. “Lead on.”
“This way.” He took her through the kitchen and garage, where a side door from the laundry area ushered them onto a walkway.
Nippy air hastened what might have been a leisurely stroll between beds of flowering bushes and low, fat palms. Pop music drifted from one condo; from another, the sounds of a TV program.
Derek unlocked the gate to the pool area, which was unoccupied. Illuminated from within, the spa sent wisps of steam into the darkness.
They dropped their towels on the concrete. Marta hurried to slide into the water, and as she sank onto one of the concrete benches, her expression registered pure bliss. Derek smiled. It felt good to make her happy.
He joined her in the pool. “Too bad we have to wear clothes in here,” he murmured as warmth penetrated his body.
She eyed him skeptically. “Are you flirting with me?”
“I don’t think so.” Derek feigned innocence.
“Inducing a woman to remove her clothes hardly counts as flirting,” Marta mused. “It’s more of an obvious play.”
That stung. “I’m never obvious.”
Her fingers waggled amid the bubbles. “Don’t worry. I’m confident that you have no designs on my body.”
True, except for a small corner of his mind that urged him onward. “What makes you so sure?”
“Well—” mischief danced through her voice “—at your advanced age, you’ll probably have trouble climbing out of the hot tub, let alone behaving like a stallion afterward.”
He drifted toward her on the bench and reached to tickle her midriff. “That sounds like a challenge.”
Giggling, Marta squirmed away. “How you gonna catch me, Grandpa?”
“You can’t escape in a spa!”
They struggled in play, laughing and splashing. To Derek’s pleasure, Marta didn’t try to disguise how much she was enjoying their interaction. And in the warm water, as his hard body grazed her soft one, Derek became increasingly aware of his attraction to her. Her vitality thrilled him; her lushness excited him.
He pulled her close until she relaxed against him, legs tangling with his. So tempting. So delightful.
As a token of victory, he kissed her. With a sigh, she opened to him, her lips and tongue meeting his. He cradled her and intensified the kiss, half expecting her to pull away with a wisecrack.
Instead, Marta caressed his shoulders and smoothed her palms down his arms. Derek wondered why he hadn’t registered before how fiercely they were drawn to each other.
*
Unbelievable that this was happening: Derek’s hard body showing unmistakable evidence of arousal and his mouth on hers. Marta no longer wanted to resist, regardless of the consequences.
For too many years, she’d allowed the accident and her disabilities to define her. She’d never imagined she’d make love to the most desirable man she knew. Never imagined that he’d want it, too.
She had to accept that, afterward, they’d proceed on their separate paths. If a woman existed who could domesticate this rogue, it wasn’t her. Still, she refused to waste this opportunity, and if she contemplated her decision for too long, she might chicken out.
“You know where this is leading,” she murmured.
Derek stopped tracing a finger down her T-shirt toward the vee of her breasts. “That’s up to you.”
“Okay, but no cracks about my height,” she returned levelly.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” A slightly amused note.
“I’d better warn you,” Marta added.
“Of what?”
“I wasn’t kidding about the scars.” The prospect of revealing them still scared her.
“I’ll kiss each one.” He raised her palm to his mouth and pressed his lips to it, as if in demonstration.
The gesture raised a delicious shiver. “Okay. But afterward…we’ll be friends again. No romantic illusions.”
That seemed to give Derek pause. Briefly, anyway. At last: “Fine with me. I’m not good at relationships. If we can keep it light…”
“Light, and out of the bedroom,” she clarified, in case he expected more. “It’s a one-time deal.” Had to be. Otherwise, she might fall far too deeply in love.
“Birthday present?” he murmured.
“Exactly.” She smiled.
“I’ll do my best to make it one you’ll never forget.” He sounded utterly sincere.
Marta smiled. “That shouldn’t be a problem.”
“I hope not.”
Had she imagined a hint of uncertainty in his response? About to inquire further, she gave a start as the creaky pool gate announced the arrival of company. Childish squeals dispelled any hope that the newcomers might be another amorous couple.
The two of them climbed out of the hot tub, fetched their towels and headed toward the condo. Despite the cool air on their wet bodies, Marta didn’t mind the stroll, as long as Derek’s hand possessed hers.
She savored the awareness crackling between them. Every touch that must seem commonplace to other lovers—a halt outside his unit as he kissed her again; drying each other in the garage so they didn’t track water through the kitchen—felt special.
They only had this once. Until the stroke of midnight. Not literally, but the phrase seemed apt.
They left their towels on the washing machine and went upstairs together. On the staircase, Derek positioned her above him so their mouths m
et at the same level. His thumbs probed her nipples, arousing such intense sensations that Marta gasped. When he brought his mouth to the hard points of her breasts, fire seared through her.
Derek lifted his head. “We’d better move into the bedroom before this happens right here. You’d get a permanent crick in your spine.”
“Besides,” she reminded him, “you promised to kiss each of my scars, and that’ll keep you busy for hours.”
“Little imp,” he returned fondly. “Did I mention I have a few scars of my own for you to explore? They’re in extremely interesting places.”
“I can’t wait.”
In the king-size bed, they showed each other their old injuries. Derek revealed the remnant of a gunshot wound to the ribs received early in his career. He also pointed out the thin reminder of a knife fight along his inner thigh. It had led to his departure from high school and subsequent removal to San Francisco, he explained. “The other guy started it. A bully who objected to my defending his victims.”
“What happened to him?” Marta asked.
“Got sent to juvenile hall.”
“It’s not fair that you were punished.”
Derek shrugged. “I was glad the other kids didn’t have to suffer his nastiness during my absence.”
“Did you see him after that?”
“No. Good thing, because I’d have fought him again if necessary. Still, he helped me decide to become a police officer. There are a lot of bullies in the world, and a lot of folks who need protecting.” He fixed his attention on her. “Now, let’s see what you’ve been so embarrassed about.”
Despite Marta’s bravado, she shrank from having her imperfections scrutinized, especially by this man who had his pick of lovely women.
She struggled against the urge to yank the bedspread across herself. “Why don’t you turn off the light?”
“Relax.” Gently, Derek raised her shirt and cupped her breasts. Hot with yearning, Marta arched as he proceeded to tug off her shorts. But the sense of anticipation faded.
She could visualize all too well the picture spread before his gaze, the web of incisions across her hips and thighs from the crash and from surgeries to repair shattered bones. When she’d first glimpsed her damaged body in a mirror, she’d wept.
Twin Surprise Page 8
