Hers By Request

by Karen Ann Dell

  A hostess stand was just to the left of the door and ten or twelve tables filled the center of the room, with cozy booths marching along one wall. They all had the typical red and white checkered cloths with flickering candles in Chianti bottles as centerpieces, and most appeared to be occupied. The aroma wafting from the kitchen was mouth-watering, and Amanda inhaled deeply.

  Dev spoke to the hostess and Amanda had to smile as his voice worked its magic. Pretty and petite, with long dark hair and skin kissed by a Mediterranean sun, the woman allowed her dark brown eyes to rove over Dev with obvious appreciation. A quick glance at her seating chart had her shaking her head regretfully. “I’m so sorry, sir. We’ve nothing available right now. If you could wait, a table should be free in twenty minutes or so.”

  Even the fact that Dev and Amanda’s hands were still clasped together didn’t deter the woman from giving him a radiant smile.

  Dev turned to Amanda. “Want to wait or try a different restaurant?”

  A waiter had just finished serving diners at a nearby table. The young man caught sight of Amanda and hurried over.

  “Ah, bella! How good to see you.” He hugged her and kissed her on each cheek, then scolded, “You have not been here for too long, Amanda. Let me tell Antonio you are here. He will want to say hello.”

  “Hello, Mario, it is good to see you, too.” Amanda laughed. “I’ve been so busy, I haven’t had time to stop in. But I’ve brought someone who hasn’t had the opportunity to sample Antonio’s wonderful crab ravioli. Do you think you could squeeze us in somewhere?”

  Young and darkly handsome, the waiter turned to Dev. “Please give us a moment, sir, and we’ll have a table ready for you.” He spoke in a low voice to the hostess, obviously new on the job. “We always have room for Amanda, Maria.” He gave Dev a once-over. “And her beau.” He winked at Amanda and headed toward the kitchen.

  Maria ignored Amanda completely and concentrated her attention on Dev, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and her full lips pouting prettily. She apologized so profusely that Amanda would have been annoyed had it not been obvious that all the woman’s wiles had zero effect on the man still holding her hand. She couldn’t keep a smug smile from her own lips as they waited for the waiter’s return.

  In a few minutes Mario was back and led them to a table for two near the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind the noise, bella,” he said over the clatter of plates and pots coming from the back room.

  “All the better to smell Antonio’s creations,” she replied. “Thanks for finding us a spot.”

  “Do not thank me.” He flashed white teeth in a grin. “If Antonio found out we had turned you away, I would have been on a ship back to Italy the next day.” He lit the candle in the center of the table and disappeared.

  “I can see why you weren’t worried about reservations,” Dev said.

  “I took over doing their books last fall,” Amanda explained. “I saved them a lot of money, so Antonio loves me now.” The sharp look Dev shot her had her laughing again. “Not like that, you silly man. He loves me like a daughter. Wait till you meet him. He’s shorter than I am and twice as wide, but his heart is bigger than the moon.”

  “And the waiter? He seemed pretty smitten—not that I blame him.” Dev picked up his menu and opened it. “He’s certainly not old enough to be your father, and given the chance, I think he’d be happy to do much more than serve you food.”

  “Really? You think he might like to date me?” She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep a straight face when Dev scowled at her over the top of his menu.

  “Well, I’d have to ask Anna if she would mind if I went out with her husband, but she’s pretty busy with their two kids, so maybe she’d like him out of the house once in a while.” She picked up her own menu and used it to hide her grin.

  “You think you’re pretty smart, don’t you?”

  “Not really, but I am thinking you might be just a tiny bit jealous.”

  “Not at all. I was just commenting on his enthusiastic greeting.”

  “He’s Italian, Dev. European men are very demonstrative. It doesn’t mean anything.” She perused the menu and added as an afterthought, “Unlike the hostess, who would have scribbled her phone number on your shirt sleeve if you’d have given her half a chance.” She kept her eyes on the menu until the long silence made her peek over the top.

  “Now who’s sounding jealous?” he said, grinning. “Believe me, no one’s scribbling anything on my sleeve but you,” he said with that voice that sent heat spiraling through her. He reached across the table and clasped her hand with his damaged one. “Thanks for being so cool about this.”

  She deliberately studied his hand as she laced her fingers between his, then brought his hand to her lips. She kissed each knuckle lightly. “I am sorry for your injury, because it’s stopped you from becoming the great jazz pianist I know you would have been. But it hasn’t kept you from being a wonderful man.” She gripped his hand more tightly as he tried to break away. “And it certainly hasn’t kept me from seeing you as one very sexy guy.”

  Mario’s return to take their order finally made her let go. Dev ordered a bottle of Chianti and Mario quickly brought a basket of crusty Italian bread and a large plate of antipasto.

  After he poured them each a glass of the dark red wine, he left with their order—the house special of crab ravioli in lobster sauce.

  “Tell me about the FBI,” Dev said.

  She went through the past few days from the initial newspaper story that had appeared in the report from her clipping service, to her phone call to the police in Winston, Virginia, and finally to the conversation with Agent Thorndyke. Luckily the intervening hours and her busy day provided enough distance to keep her from dissolving into an emotional mess during the telling. By the time she was done, their dinners had arrived and both of them were hungry enough to give their full attention to Antonio’s delicious food.

  “It’s not that I think he might still be alive.” She picked up their conversation over a second glass of wine as their plates were removed. “I gave up that hope years ago. My dad would never willingly abandon us. But I always thought the reality of what happened to him couldn’t be as bad as some of the things I imagined. Now I’m not so sure.”

  The somber tone of their conversation was dispelled as a short, rotund man in chef’s whites barreled through the kitchen door, carrying two plates holding large portions of tiramisu. He set them in front of Amanda and Dev, then leaned down to buss Amanda on each cheek.

  “You stay away too long, bella,” he boomed. “See how skinny you are? You should come here more often. I would not let you get so thin.”

  She laughed. “I’m sure you wouldn’t, Antonio. If I came by more often I would weigh as much as you.” She poked him playfully in his belly. “I want to introduce you to my friend, Dev. Antonio Donatelli, Devlyn MacMurphy.”

  Dev started to get up.

  “No. No. Don’t get up. We are not so formal here, si? More like famiglia, eh?” He looked to Amanda for confirmation.

  “Yes. Like famiglia.” She smiled fondly.

  “I am glad to meet you,” Dev said. “You are a superb chef, Antonio. The food was delicious.”

  Antonio beamed at the praise. “Ah, a nice man, Amanda. You have good taste.” He gestured to the plates. “Now, mangia, mangia tutto!”

  “You brought us too much, Antonio.” Amanda patted her stomach. “I am stuffed full of ravioli and antipasto. Can we take it home to eat later?”

  Antonio was disappointed but resigned. “Si. You eat later. You come back again soon,” he ordered as he returned to the kitchen.

  They left the restaurant with boxes full of the sweet Italian dessert. Amanda’s stomach was full but her hunger for Dev grew with every passing minute.

  CHAPTER 17 />
  The ride to Amanda’s place took longer than Dev expected. The rain started again after they left the restaurant and he drove slowly in the pitch dark with the rain coming down so hard the wipers could barely keep up. Amanda slid over so that their shoulders touched and balanced the dessert boxes on her lap. They passed Crooked Neck Road, the turn-off that led to the Wyndham’s place, and Dev began to tense up. His initial plan had been to drop Amanda off and leave, letting her find the changes to her little cottage on her own. That way there would be time for her to calm down before she saw him the next morning.

  He now viewed that plan as cowardly. But, shit, they’d had such a nice dinner together he hated the thought of ruining it with a fight. Maybe she wouldn’t be angry. Jeff thought she’d be grateful, but Dev wasn’t so sure. She was so damned independent—which was a good thing, as far as his promise to Danny went. Not such a good thing when he’d done a whole bunch of stuff to her property without her permission.

  Their reconciliation this morning might be over before it began and he could be going home sad, horny, and covered in tiramisu.

  “You’re awfully quiet. Is something wrong?”

  It was uncanny the way this woman could read him. “Just concentrating on staying on the road. I wouldn’t want to put us in a ditch in a storm like this.”

  “Not like some other crazy driver might,” she teased.

  He had to smile at that. “Let the record show that you brought up bad drivers, not me.”

  “So noted, Mr. MacMurphy.” She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Too bad you have to go to work tonight.”

  He ordered his little head to stand down. That one simple comment from Amanda had it up and exploring the possibility of escape.

  “Yeah.”

  “Don’t you ever get a night off?” she asked, sounding wistful.

  His pants got tighter.

  Up until he met Amanda he relished having to work every night. It gave him something to do besides think of what happened in Iraq—and what he wasn’t getting done here, now that he was out of the hospital. The beautiful blond with the mesmerizing gray eyes had changed all that.

  “Not so far. I’ve got to hire another announcer first. I thought I was set when Lance Fisher applied for a job, but it turns out he’s a much better fit as an engineer than an on-air personality.”

  He stopped in front of Amanda’s bungalow and the headlights caught reflections from a pair of eyes under the porch.

  “What’s that?” She pointed to the twin green dots.

  “Probably just a raccoon or a possum trying to stay out of the rain. Nothing to worry about.” He cut the motor and the green reflections disappeared. “You stay here. I’ll go open the door. Do you have an umbrella?”

  “Yes, it’s in the closet off the kitchen.”

  “Good. I’ll get it and come back to get you. No sense in both of us getting soaked.”

  “Okay. I’m leaving one of these desserts here for you. Lord knows I don’t need two of them.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed. When she swung around in the seat, her face indignant in the glow from the porch light, he smiled to himself. “You’re sweet enough already.”

  “You like living close to the edge, do you?”

  We’ll see just how close in a few minutes.

  “Keeps the blood pumping, you know?”

  He slid out of the seat and ran for the door. He was inside in seconds and went to find the umbrella. The place was warm and cozy—a nice contrast to the cold rain outside. He went out the door and opened the umbrella. What was that sound coming from under the porch? He hoped to God whatever animal it was wasn’t hurt. Amanda was so soft-hearted she’d have him crawling around under there trying to rescue the damned thing.

  He opened the car door and helped her out, tiramisu in one hand, laptop in the other. Keeping her sheltered under the umbrella required him to stay very close as they made their way up the steps. Just as they reached the door, a black streak shot by them into the house. Amanda shrieked and stumbled over the threshold, glancing around wildly. He snapped the umbrella closed and followed her in, slamming the door behind him.

  No chance of a fast getaway now.

  “Did you see where it went?” She stood in the center of the room, still clutching her laptop and the dessert box.

  “I think it went down the hall. I’ll see if I can find it. You stand by the door. If it runs back this way, open it fast and maybe it’ll run back out.”

  Amanda nodded. She set the laptop and box on the table, then went to stand by the door.

  A few minutes later he called out, “Found it. It ran under the bed in your office.”

  There was the sound of a brief scuffle.

  “You can forget the door. It’s not dangerous. In fact, I don’t think you’re going to toss it back out in the rain.”

  He came back down the hall, carrying a little bundle of wet, black fur. A pitiful meow identified it as a coal-black kitten, soaked and shivering in Dev’s arms.

  “Ohhh,” Amanda cried, scooping up the soggy kitten and cuddling it against her chest. “Oh, you poor baby. What were you doing out on a night like this?”

  The kitten nuzzled under her neck and started to purr. She turned surprised eyes to him and he shrugged. He knew nothing about cats, but he’d be purring too if she held him like that.

  She went back to the bathroom and got a towel then handed cat and towel to Dev. “Hold her a second while I get my coat off.”

  She hung up her coat then came back and relieved Dev of the kitten who was doing its best to burrow under the folds of the towel.

  “Okay, your turn. Take that wet coat off before you catch a cold.”

  He did as he was told, watching her tenderly rub the towel over the kitten’s face. So far she hadn’t seemed to notice how warm the room was. When she did, he hoped the kitten would provide him some protection. How furious could she get while she held a bedraggled cat? This might work out better than he’d hoped.

  “The poor little thing is so skinny. I wonder if she’s lost or abandoned.” Amanda sat at her kitchen counter and continued to dry the stray. “She’s probably hungry, Dev. There’s a can of tuna in the cabinet over there. Would you be a dear and open it for me?”

  He brought the can and a saucer over to the counter and rummaged through the drawers to find an opener. Once he got it open the little cat lost all interest in being dried off and struggled to get out of Amanda’s arms and over to the dish.

  “Okay, okay, you little spook, here you go.” Amanda put the saucer on the floor and the kitten attacked the tuna. “It’s a good thing it’s nice and warm in here or the poor . . .” She stopped mid-sentence and peered around the room.

  Here we go.

  “Wow. I didn’t realize how much difference caulking the windows would make.” She wandered around the room, put her hand up to the kitchen window, and brushed the curtain back. “No drafts.” A pleased smile lit her face. “Dev, thank you. Your work made this place so much warmer. I’m amazed.” She came over and kissed him on the cheek. “I owe you one.”

  He put his arms around her. “Doesn’t all my hard work deserve more than just a kiss on the cheek?” Without waiting for an answer, he captured her lips and kissed her soundly. When he released her, her eyes had already gotten hazy.

  “Hold that thought,” she said. “I’m going to get a dry towel and make a place for Spook to sleep tonight. Then we’ll see about thanking you properly for what you did.”

  While she was gone, he considered making a run for it. Any second now, she’d stop thinking about that cat long enough to take a good look around. At that point he doubted that thanking him properly would include any intimate contact.

  She brought a dry towel back, then went over to the alcove that held t
he washer/dryer to put the damp one in the laundry pile.

  “I wish I had a cardboard box or something to—”

  There was the pause he’d been expecting.

  She leaned around the corner with a puzzled frown. “Dev, what’s this . . . thing . . . on the wall over here?”

  “It’s a hot water heater. One of those tank-less kind that heats the water instantly as you need it.”