The Lady's Man

by Linda Turner

  And it scared her to death. This wasn’t the safe, public meal she had envisioned, but something far more dangerous, far more appealing. And that’s when she knew she was in trouble. Because she would have liked nothing better than to share a meal with Zeke McBride, alone, in that magical setting.

  “This isn’t what we agreed to,” she reminded him huskily. “You said the diner—”

  “No, I said we would go someplace public,” he said quickly, triumphantly. “Myrtle’s is public—it just happens to be closed at the moment.” When she narrowed her eyes at that, he actually had the gall to laugh at her. “C’mon, sweetheart, admit it. I got you. You wanted public, I gave it to you. You didn’t say a thing about other people being around.”

  He had her and they both knew it. And she only had herself to blame. She should have known that a flirt like Zeke would find a way to get a woman alone. “You think you’re pretty tricky, don’t you, McBride?”

  Grinning, he didn’t deny it. “You’re damn straight And I’m cute, too,” he added outrageously, his blue eyes laughing. “Go ahead. You can admit it. I know you’ve noticed.”

  She had, darn it, but she wasn’t about to admit that to him. “How did you manage all this?”

  “Did I happen to mention that Myrtle’s one of my mother’s best friends?”

  It figured. “I should make you take me right home You know that, don’t you?”

  “But you won’t,” he said confidently. “Because you know you’re going to have fun.”

  She might have argued about that, but just at that moment he reached over and set the needle of an old phonograph on a record, setting the strains of the “Tennessee Waltz” drifting through the shop. It was one of her favorites. How had he known?

  Her pulse racing, she looked up at him helplessly. “Zeke—”

  The music must have been a signal because the door between Myrtle’s place and the diner opened, and a waiter swept through, balancing a tray of food on one hand. Pulling out a chair for her at the table, Zeke arched a brow at her. “Shall we eat?”

  He would have taken her home if she’d stood her ground and insisted. But that seemed petty. He had gone to a lot of trouble. And as much as she hated to admit it, she wanted to stay. Without a word, she slipped into the chair he held for her.

  Considering that it was Thursday night and people were lined up at the diner for Ed’s special, she expected a hot, spicy bowl of red chili. But when Zeke was seated and the waiter served them, the tossed salad, chicken cordon bleu, and baby asparagus he set before them was a far cry from chili.

  Chuckling at her reaction, Zeke said, “Did I forget to mention that Ed’s a romantic?”

  Elizabeth couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d told her the man watched old Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers movies. She ate breakfast just about every morning at the diner, and over the course of the last few months, she and Ed had discussed everything from the stock market to Armageddon. He was rough and hard edged, and she liked him, but not once had he ever let on that he was an old softie when it came to matters of the heart.

  “Not mentioning things seems to be a habit with most people around these parts,” she said dryly. “What else haven’t you told me, McBride?”

  “You get that on the second date, darlin’,” he promised, flashing his dimples at her. “Try to be patient.”

  “And you think there’s going to be one?” she asked archly.

  “Hey, you’re here, aren’t you? After turning me down at least a gazillion times. So, yeah, I think there’ll be a second one. Why wouldn’t there be?” Teasing, he threw his arms wide. “What’s not to like?”

  What, indeed? That was why she was there, to discover reasons not to like the darn man, but, Lord, he made it difficult. Fascination—that was what he made her feel. There was no other way to describe it. She tried to convince herself it was just their surroundings—any woman would have been hard-pressed not to be seduced by the champagne and music and romantic setting, not to mention the most delectable meal she had ever eaten—but she’d never lied to herself and she couldn’t start now It was the man. He was what fascinated her.

  The knowledge rattled her. She didn’t want to be captivated by him, was determined not to be charmed. But he’d slipped past her guard, and she didn’t know how it happened. She wasn’t used to being the focus of a man’s unrelenting flitting, and she was sure she wouldn’t be able to enjoy the meal at all. But once she’d agreed to stay, he let up on the teasing remarks and drew her into conversations about everything from politics and religion to John Wayne movies and psychic predictions. Before she knew it, she was telling him about her childhood, her family, her hopes and dreams.

  Suddenly realizing that she’d been going on forever about herself, she blushed. “I didn’t mean to ramble on. How did we get on my childhood, anyway?”

  “We were talking about fishing and you mentioned going ice fishing with your father once. You must have been a daddy’s girl.”

  Her smile slipped slightly. “Yeah, I guess I was. Once.”

  He didn’t ask her what happened, but she could see the questions in his eyes, and without quite intending to, she told him far more about herself than she’d intended to. “When I was little, I used to worship the ground he walked on He had this wonderful knack for making me feel special. Like I was the prettiest little girl in the whole world. Then as I got older, I realized that there were a lot of special ‘girls’ in my father’s life.” Shrugging, she said, “It wasn’t all that difficult to attract his attention. All you had to do was be female.”

  She said that simply enough, without an ounce of emotion, as if she had long since accepted her father’s shortcomings, but Zeke heard the words she didn’t say, saw the hurt that she quickly suppressed. And suddenly the puzzle pieces that were Elizabeth Davis fell into place. Her old man had played around on her mother. And judging from the pain she couldn’t hide, he’d done it more than once. Oh, she didn’t quite say that, but it explained a hell of a lot. Like why the lady kept coming up with reasons not to go out with him when he knew she was as attracted to him as he was to her. She thought he was like her father.

  He supposed she was justified. She didn’t know him, and considering her background, he could see why she would be leery of him. From the moment they’d first met, he’d done nothing but tease and flirt with her and try to get her to go out with him That didn’t mean, however, that he went around panting after anything in skirts. Yes, he liked women—he readily admitted it. But there was no crime in that. He was a healthy, single man, free to date and see whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted. He had his standards, though. He never dated more than one woman at a time—only a fool did that. And he believed in commitment.

  Unlike Elizabeth, he’d been lucky enough to have parents who were totally devoted to each other and their marriage vows. They’d had twenty-five years together before his father died of a heart attack at the age of fifty, and in all that time, neither his mother or father had ever even dreamed of looking at someone else

  That was what he wanted one day So no, he wasn’t like Elizabeth’s father. He was too much his father’s son. When he finally found a woman he could love and trust enough to make a commitment to, he would never put that love in jeopardy by doing something stupid like flirting with another woman.

  But Elizabeth didn’t know that. She would when she got to know him better.

  The waiter appeared to whisk their empty plates away and ask them about dessert. But the only sweet Zeke was interested in was the woman across the table from him. “We’ll wait,” he told the waiter, and rose to his feet to change the record on the phonograph. Instantly the smooth voice of Frank Sinatra, backed by a full string section, drifted through the shop.

  Turning back to Elizabeth, he held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”

  Chapter 6

  Hesitating, she stared at the hard, male hand he held out to her and felt her heart literally skip a beat at the thought
of going into his arms. She shouldn’t. The music was too romantic, the setting far too intimate, her senses too attuned to Zeke’s every move. If she let him touch her now, she didn’t know if she’d be able to control her heart’s foolish, traitorous response to him

  She should have thanked him for the meal, the conversation, an evening she wouldn’t soon forget, then politely asked him to take her home. Because, as much as she found herself liking him, it didn’t change who he was. But even though she tried, she couldn’t say the words. This was, she knew, the last time she would go out with him, the last time she would have a chance to feel his arms around her. How could she deny herself that?

  The decision made, she ignored the voice of reason grumbling in her head and placed her hand in his. With an easy tug, he pulled her from her chair and into his arms.

  If Elizabeth lived to be a hundred, she didn’t think she would ever forget what followed. She should have felt awkward. They were in a closed antique store, for heaven’s sake, dancing on what was just about the only clear floor space in the entire building, and it was hardly big enough to turn around in. Dusty pieces of furniture encircled them like silent spectators while candle flames danced on their wicks. If anyone had chanced to look through the shop’s large plate-glass window and spied them swaying in each other’s arms, they would have been the talk of the town.

  It couldn’t have been more magical.

  Feeling as if she had stepped into a fantasy, Elizabeth couldn’t have said if they danced one song or a dozen. Time ceased to have meaning, and she couldn’t find the strength to care. There was just the music and the candles and the feel of Zeke’s arms around her. Nothing else mattered.

  Caught up in the wonder of it, she never noticed when their steps slowed, then stopped altogether. The music changed, and she realized that their dance had come to an end. So this was it, the end of the fairy tale, time to turn in the glass slippers and go home. Disappointed, she said huskily, “Thank you for the dance.”

  She started to draw back, but his arms tightened ever so slightly, and when she looked up in surprise, his blue eyes were dark with a heat that stole the air right out of her lungs. Her heart lurching crazily in her breast, she went still.

  Later she couldn’t have said how long they stood there just so, their gazes tangled and the air between them crackling with anticipation. She would have sworn neither of them moved, but suddenly his mouth was only a heartbeat away from hers, his moist breath warm against her lips, so close she could almost taste him.

  Startled, her throat desert dry, she swallowed thickly and tried to hang on to her common sense. “I...I think I should be going.”

  “In a minute,” he promised, his voice as rough as ground glass. “I haven’t kissed you yet.”

  “Zeke—”

  His name was the only protest she could manage, the only one he allowed her. His mouth skimmed hers lightly, ever so softly, and she felt the punch of it all the way down to her toes. Stunned, she could do nothing but stare at him.

  If she hadn’t looked at him quite that way, with such surprise in those beautiful green eyes of hers, Zeke might have found the strength to let her go. But he’d felt that lick of heat, too, like the kiss of a bolt of lightning that came out of nowhere, and he was just as shaken as she. He was an experienced man, he knew about the wallop chemistry could pack. But from a chaste, innocent brush of mouth against mouth? The last time that had happened, he was sixteen and thought he had died and gone to the moon when Becky Sutter let him kiss her under the mistletoe. What was going on here?

  Right then and there he should have pulled back. But he had her in his arms, and he couldn’t bring himself to let her go. Not yet, not without another taste. Giving in to the need, he brushed her lips again, and found her just as tempting as before. And a man could, he reasoned, only resist temptation so long. Throwing caution to the wind, he covered her mouth with his and, quite simply, devoured her.

  He wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d punched him one. He certainly wouldn’t have blamed her. He’d finagled her into going out with him by using the ruse that the only way to get past their unreasonable attractiveness for each other was to prove that they didn’t like each other. Yeah, right about now, he was really convincing the lady that he couldn’t stand her, he thought cynically. If he drew her any closer, she’d be right inside his skin. And all he could think of was that he wanted more. A hell of a lot more.

  Her head spinning, fire burning low in her belly, Elizabeth clung to him, the pounding of her heart loud and fast in her ears. She shouldn’t do this. Couldn’t. She wouldn’t be another conquest for Zeke McBride, wouldn’t be another brainless bimbo who fell for his cocky smile and the wicked twinkle in his eye. She was smarter than that. Wasn’t she?

  It was the doubt that stunned her, that had her pulling back to look up at him in pained, shocked confusion. She thought she knew herself, thought she knew how she would react to something as innocent as a kiss. After all, she wasn’t the sort of woman who let her emotions rule her head. No, sirree, Bob. Her hormones only jumped into overdrive when she gave them permission, and not until then. At least they always had before.

  Too late, she realized the entire evening had been nothing but one mistake after another. She never should have agreed to stay once she saw the romantic setting he’d arranged for them, never should have danced with him, never, ever, should have let him kiss her. She would never be able to look him in the eye again without remembering the taste of his mouth on hers. Dear God, what had she done?

  Her heart pounding frantically, she jerked back. “I have to leave. Now!”

  “Lizzy, wait! Honey, let’s talk about this—”

  “No! There’s nothing to talk about.” They’d talked enough already. Talking had gotten her into this whole mess in the first place. She knew just how dangerous a flirting man could be, and still she’d let him charm her. Well, no more! She was going home, and from now on, she was steering clear of Zeke McBride.

  Whirling away from him, she looked frantically for her coat and purse, but she couldn’t remember where she’d put them, and in the shadows that engulfed the shop, everything just blended in. Frustrated, she never realized just how close she was to cracking until she heard a sob hitch in her throat. Horrified, she stiffened. She would not cry, dammit!

  She heard Zeke swear behind her, and then his fingers were closing gently around her shoulder. “Sweetheart—”

  Whatever he would have said next was lost with the jingling of the bell on the front door to Myrtle’s shop Surprised, they both turned in time to see Nick step inside

  It was obvious that he knew he’d walked in at a bad moment. The tension was so thick Elizabeth could feel it in the air, and she knew her cheeks were fiery, her hair tousled from Zeke’s fingers. Five minutes earlier, and Nick would have caught them in each other’s arms, kissing as if there was no tomorrow.

  Not a dense man, he had to know what he’d interrupted. The evidence was all around them—the remnants of their meal, the candles, the love song that drifted throughout the shop, setting an intimate, romantic mood. To his credit, though, he didn’t even blink. From his expression, you’d have thought that walking in on couples using Myrtle’s shop for a trysting place was an everyday occurrence. Not the least bit embarrassed, he headed straight for them.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” he said by way of a greeting. “When I saw Zeke’s truck out front, I stopped in at the diner, and Ed told me I’d find you two in here.”

  “No problem,” Zeke said shortly, instantly alert. “Is there a problem?”

  He nodded. “Tina Ellison’s been trying to get Elizabeth on her cell phone.”

  Alarmed, Elizabeth went pale. “I left it at home. What’s wrong? Has there been another threat against the wolves?”

  His lean face more serious than she’d ever seen it, he hesitated, then broke the news as gently as possible. “We’re not sure yet, but you need to get back to your office. That wolf you’re
so crazy about, the alpha male—”

  “Number Eight? Napoleon?” At his nod, she pressed suddenly trembling fingers to her mouth. “Oh, God, something’s happened to him, hasn’t it? What? Dammit, Nick, tell me!”

  “His radio collar’s been emitting a mortality code for the past twenty minutes. Tina tried calling Ed’s, but it’s chili night, and the place is a madhouse. Someone took the phone off the hook, so she tried getting you on your cell phone instead. When that didn’t work, she called me. She thinks he may be dead.”

  The words hit her like a knife to the heart, draining every last ounce of blood from her cheeks. No! Not Napoleon! He was too big, too strong, too cunning. Of all the wolves that had been selected for the project, he was the one that everyone agreed was destined to not only survive, but thrive. She’d just seen him that afternoon, running through the Hawk River Valley without a care in the world. He loved his freedom, loved his new home. He couldn’t be dead. There had to be a mistake.

  “No,” she said hoarsely, refusing to even consider the possibility. “He’s not dead. He can’t be.” Turning away, she looked around distractedly for her purse. “Dammit, where’s my purse? I’ve got to get to the office.”

  “Here,” Zeke said quietly, and took it and her coat from the old hall tree where he’d hung them earlier. Holding her coat out, he helped her into it, then reached for his own. “Let me blow these candles out and lock up, and we can go.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  He gave her a look that had the words dying on her tongue. Even if he hadn’t been assigned to investigate who was threatening the wolves, there was no way he’d have let her handle this alone. Not after the evening they’d just shared and a kiss that still had his blood humming. “I’m going,” he said flatly.

  She didn’t argue, but hurriedly helped him blow the candles out instead. Within seconds, Myrtle’s shop was dark and locked and they were racing down the street in Zeke’s truck with the sheriff right behind them.