Tanya smiled, pleased that he seemed so concerned that she might think that of him. She didn’t. She knew his success with women had always been in his good treatment of them. But rather than let him off the hook, she said, “But there were times when you dumped her on a whim?”
“Katie and I have a long history. Sure, there was a time or two when my reasons for breaking it off with her were pretty shallow—I told you I could be that way before. But to be fair, there was once when Katie dumped me to take a guy with better hair to a country-club dance.”
Tanya couldn’t imagine anyone with better hair, but she didn’t say it. Instead she said, “I don’t know, this breakup doesn’t sound too much more serious than that.”
“It is,” Tate insisted as they finished their desserts. “I guarantee that hair was not an issue. I just want you to know that me being some kind of creep also wasn’t the issue.”
Tanya looked more closely at him, seeing just how important it was to him that she not have a negative impression. She was surprised by it.
“Why is what I think such a big deal to you all of a sudden? Even if I refer to you in my report as the family playboy it wouldn’t come as news to anyone.”
“It’s not your report that worries me,” he said seriously, meeting her eyes to lend weight to his words.
“What does worry you?”
He studied her for a moment but somehow in that moment he apparently decided not to answer her question because he smiled a slow, small smile and said, “I’m a little worried right now that maybe you didn’t get enough dessert.”
Okay, so she was trying to spoon out every last creamy drop of that pots de crème. She’d just hoped he hadn’t noticed.
She smiled sheepishly back at him. “It was fabulous.”
Just when Tanya was about to repeat the question he’d dodged, there was a knock on the theater door, and Andrew poked his head in. “The night cleaning crew is here, Doctor McCord.”
“Okay, thanks, Andrew,” Tate answered. Glancing at Tanya once more he said, “I’m afraid that’s our cue—I promised we’d leave so we didn’t hold up the cleaning crew.”
“Ah, Paris, it was nice while it lasted,” Tanya joked as she set her napkin on the table and stood to go.
The opportunity to explore his concerns seemed to have escaped her by the time they got to the car. Tanya used the drive back to the mansion as an opportunity to get a few facts straight about the McCord philanthropies. Then they were home again and Tate was once more walking her to the bungalow’s door.
“On Friday night there’s a formal dinner, dance and silent auction at the country club—technically, it’s a charity ball. Anyway, my family is sponsoring it to raise money for IMC—the International Medical Corps. It’s the group I worked with in Iraq. What do you say to going with me? I’m sure you’ll want to sample some of the glitz that goes into being a McCord so you can report on that, too,” Tate said as they reached the porch and stepped into the glow of the light her mother had left on for her.
“Formal—as in tuxedos and prom dresses?” Tanya asked.
“I’ll be in a tuxedo, yes. But I’ve never thought of what the women wear as prom dresses. Fancy, yes, but—”
“Either way, I don’t own anything like that. I’ll probably be able to pick up photographs of the event from the society pages to include that element.”
“How about this, then,” he said as if he didn’t intend to take no for an answer. “I have surgeries scheduled all day tomorrow, but what if I take you on a little shopping trip in the evening to outfit you?”
“With a fancy dress?” Tanya said, excited and a little put off by the idea all at once.
“A dress, shoes, whatever it takes to get you there.”
“Is this a case of charity beginning at home?” she asked with some distaste.
“Absolutely not. It’s a case of my having to go on Friday night because my family initiated it on my behalf. I haven’t been doing many of these things since I got back from Baghdad but I have to go to this one and I’ve been dreading it. Then I started thinking about getting you to go with me, and…no more dread. And since you’d be doing me a favor, it wouldn’t be right for you to have to foot the bill for new clothes to do it.”
Memories of peeking through the bushes as a child and seeing McCord women dressed in elaborate gowns, the men in tuxedos, flashed through Tanya’s mind. It had seemed more like a fantasy than anything real and while some of the events had been held at the mansion, she’d always wondered what the ones held at other places were like.
And now Tate was offering her the opportunity to step into the fantasy.
Actually, he was asking her to do it for him, as a favor.
And it would be something she could use for her story….
“Say yes,” he urged as if he knew she was weakening. “I’ll call and make sure there’s an endless supply of pots de crème there just for you.”
That made her laugh.
“An insider’s look,” he reminded, “that’s what you signed on for. Friday night will be that.”
“Okay…” she said tentatively because she really wasn’t sure this was a good idea.
Tentative or not, it was enough to make him smile. “Great!”
“But the only thing I’ll accept from you is advice on a dress. I’ll buy it myself,” she added, her pride taking the forefront.
“No way,” he said firmly. “You’re doing me the favor, so the dress is my treat.”
Pride notwithstanding, as the image of the kind of gowns she’d seen worn for these events became clearer in her mind, she began to fear she might be biting off more than she could chew financially. But rather than completely concede yet, she said, “I’ll make a deal with you. Tomorrow I’ll call the station and see if they’ll buy the dress as a business expense. If they won’t—”
“Then you’ll let me. Deal. But either way, keep tomorrow night open for shopping.”
An evening of shopping for a fairy-tale gown with Tate—as much as Tanya told herself she was wading into risky waters, she couldn’t help the little thrill that went through her at the prospect.
“All right, all right, all right,” she said as if she were conceding to something against her will.
And then there was no more to be said except good-night. Only she discovered that she wasn’t eager to end her time with him despite the fact that there had been several hours of it.
Maybe he felt the same way because he didn’t seem in any hurry to go. She did have the sense that he had something else on his mind, though. She just couldn’t guess what it was.
Then, in a hushed voice that let her know that what he was confiding wasn’t easy for him to reveal, he said, “Since Buzz died, since coming back from Iraq, things haven’t been the same for me. They haven’t been as…I don’t know, as much fun, I guess. Then I found you in the library Friday night and…” He shrugged. “Things are somehow looking better and better….”
Tanya didn’t know what things he was talking about but before she could ask, he added, “I can’t stand the idea that you might think the worst of me when you seem more and more like the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time….”
“It makes a difference what the housekeeper’s daughter thinks of you?” she asked.
“It makes a difference what you think about me,” he said, staring deeply into her eyes.
Then he leaned forward and it was obvious he wanted to kiss her. But rather than doing it, he waited, poised, giving her the chance not to let it happen.
And she knew she shouldn’t let it happen. She’d even told him point-blank the night before not to do it again.
But there he was, the man who—in the last few days—had let her see past the charm, the arrogance, the entitlement she’d known of him before, into the vulnerable part of him now. There he was, his starkly chiseled face only inches above hers, wanting to kiss her. And she wanted him to.
So she didn’t say no. Sh
e didn’t even shake her head. She just tipped her chin….
It was go-ahead enough.
Tate came the rest of the way, pressing his mouth to hers in a kiss that wasn’t quick or brief or offhand like the one the night before. It was a thoughtful, studied kiss with lips parted just slightly and his breath warm and sweet against her skin. It was a kiss that lasted long enough for Tanya to kiss him in return—heaven help her….
Then it ended and Tate straightened to his full height again, smiling a soft, quiet smile.
“Tomorrow night,” he said.
Tanya merely nodded and watched him turn and walk away because she was still a little stunned at the thought that he’d just allowed her a glimpse of himself that was unveiled, undisguised.
And that it was that man—the man behind the McCord veneer—who had kissed her….
Chapter Eight
“Y ou’re not Cinderella, Tanya.”
“I know, Mama.” Tanya had probably told her mother more than she should have. She hadn’t told her about how Tate had been uncommonly open with her at the end of the previous evening or about the kiss. But she had told JoBeth about the charity ball and the dress she was scheduled to go out and shop for with Tate in twenty minutes.
“You’re not Cinderella and Tate McCord isn’t Prince Charming—or even Doctor Charming—who will whisk you away to the castle to live happily ever after. Not that you couldn’t be whisked away to something wonderful,” her mother added. “It’s just that I would want you whisked away to something wonderful by someone better for you than a McCord.”
That made Tanya’s hairbrush pause in midstroke. “Better than a McCord?” she said as she went on to sweep her hair into a twist up the back of her head, leaving curls to cascade at her crown. “I thought you were the McCords’ biggest fan.”
“I am. But so much money and power sometimes brings the weight of the world down on their shoulders—like Tate seems to be feeling now. It makes them complicated people with complicated lives. And sometimes all that leads them to look outside of their own circle to escape for a while. But not forever, Tanya. Never forever. I’ve been around here long enough, I have eyes and ears, I know what goes on. And they always end up right back in the middle of that circle. With the same people who have always been there….”
“I know, Mama,” Tanya repeated. “I’m going to the charity ball to see firsthand what goes on in that circle of theirs for my report. I have to let Tate pay for the dress because the station I work for doesn’t have that kind of budget, and I certainly can’t afford it. But afterward I’ll have the dress cleaned, wrap it up and give it back to him. And I’m not letting any of this go to my head. I promise.”
JoBeth didn’t look reassured as she stood in the doorway of Tanya’s bedroom watching Tanya zip the side zipper of the short-sleeved, black-and-white checked sundress she’d opted to wear because it was easy to get on and off when she tried on gowns.
It was also extremely formfitting and boosted her breasts just a little above the scoop neck. But it was the easy on-and-off that had made her choose it, not the hint of cleavage it exposed. Or so she told herself….
“Don’t let it go to your head, don’t let it go anywhere else, either,” JoBeth cautioned. “It’s dangerous for you to start wanting to live the way they live. To want what they have. To want to be one of them…”
“Everyone wants what they have and to live the way they live—that’s why their every move makes news. But I don’t want to be one of them.”
“It’s even more dangerous to want one of them for yourself. Or to want one of them to want you…”
“I don’t want that, either,” Tanya swore as she applied a light dusting of blush, a second layer of mascara and some lip gloss to finish getting ready.
When she had—and with Tate due any minute—she grabbed her purse and went to meet her mother face-to-face at the bedroom doorway, uncertain if JoBeth was going to go on blocking it or let her through.
“It’s just a job, Mama,” Tanya said. “Work. A news report I’m doing. When I have all the material I need I’ll go my way and Tate will go his, and that will be it.”
Her mother stared at her, frowning.
But when the doorbell rang and they both knew it was Tate there to pick Tanya up, JoBeth did step back and let Tanya out.
Tanya kissed her mother’s cheek as she went around her and said, “Don’t wait up—I know you have an early day tomorrow.” Then she headed for the front door.
And as she did, she thought that she might have just lied a little when she’d told her mother that she didn’t want Tate for herself.
She was definitely trying not to want him—that much was true.
But was she succeeding?
Almost not at all…
Shopping McCord-style was not like any other shopping Tanya had ever done. Tate didn’t take her to a mall or a department store where there were racks or shelves or displays of clothes for her to pick from. He took her to a shop she’d never even heard of called Dana and Delaney’s.
From the outside it looked more like a well-appointed doctor’s office and even when they went inside they were welcomed by a woman who stood and came out from behind an antique reception desk to greet Tate by name.
After amenities were exchanged and Tanya was introduced, she and Tate were taken to a private sitting room where they were handed over to Hildy, their fashion advisor.
Hildy invited them to sit on the plush velvet settee, offered them glasses of champagne and then presented them with an array of the kind of gowns Tanya had only seen for herself when spying on McCord social events—all of them a very long way from prom dresses.
Tanya narrowed the field down to five and then she and Hildy adjourned to an equally elaborate dressing room to try on the gowns. She refused to model them for Tate and chose for herself which she liked best, accepting Hildy’s confirmation that the ruby-red silk taffeta strapless gown that followed her every curve in perfectly petaled tiers to the floor was The One.
Tanya took Hildy’s recommendation for shoes and a matching clutch, stood still while the seamstress pinned it for alterations and hemming and then was assured the dress would be delivered to the McCord mansion the next afternoon. Never did she get so much as an inkling of how much she’d spent, even when Tate instructed Hildy to have the bill sent to his office. But whatever the ensemble had cost, Tanya had never worn anything as sophisticated or elegant and was as excited to wear it again as she had been to wear her Halloween costumes as a small child.
Since Tate hadn’t been able to pick her up until nearly eight o’clock, it was after eleven by the time they left Dana and Delaney’s—long after the shop had closed to the public or anyone else who didn’t receive the special attention allotted the McCords. But just when Tanya was silently lamenting the fact that the evening would end so soon, Tate said, “I was in one surgery after another all day and never had a chance to eat—I’m starving. Are you hungry?”
“No, but I don’t mind if you want to stop and have something.” In fact, she was far more pleased with the prospect of tacking on any amount of time she could to this evening than she should have been, but she didn’t let it show.
Tate chose a small sandwich shop only blocks from home. Tanya declined a sandwich but didn’t require much persuasion to agree to a warm chocolate chip cookie and a glass of iced tea.
They took the food to a booth in the rear of the deserted restaurant and sat down.
“So,” Tate said as he unwrapped his sandwich, “when we were thirteen Buzz and I wanted to learn to surf.”
Tanya had no idea where that remark had come from but assuming he was merely making conversation, she said, “Uh-huh…”
“After school one day we decided to practice down the entrance stairs. Dumb idea, I know. Of course it didn’t work, my surfboard got away from me and went through a window. Your mom never said a word—she had the mess cleaned up and the glass replaced before my parents got home and
they never knew anything had happened. But the look your mother gave me…” Tate shook his head. “She didn’t have to say anything. I knew better than to ever try that in the house again. How come she was giving me that same look from behind you when I picked you up tonight?”
Ah, that was where this was going….
Tanya didn’t see any reason to beat around the bush. “She’s worried about me seeing so much of you.”
“Am I a bad influence?” he half joked as he took a bite of his sandwich.
“Yes,” she said with a laugh. “But that’s not what Mama is upset about. There was a time—I was seven or eight—when my mother realized that I was pressing my nose up against the window of the McCord life, so to speak, and dreaming that that was where I belonged. Mom wanted to snap me out of it to make sure I knew that your lifestyle wasn’t the reality for me. Or for most people. But now she’s afraid I might slip back into the fantasy again if I hang out with you too much.”
“How did she snap you out of it?” he asked.
Tanya smiled slightly—as much at the thought of her mother’s wisdom as at the sight of his angular features shadowed by a hint of the beard he apparently hadn’t had the chance to shave between surgery and getting her to the dress shop. It made him look rugged and scruffily handsome and so sexy that it did make him a danger to her—dangerously attractive….
“How did my mother snap me out of it….” Tanya repeated because she’d been a little lost in admiring him and needed to catch up. “She sent me to the real world,” she said.
“Real people, real world—I think I’m detecting a theme,” he joked.
Tanya didn’t respond to that. She merely went on explaining how her mother had focused her. “The way you live may be the real world for you, but it isn’t the real world for most people—the world that my mom knew I would have to live and work and function and survive in—and it was important to her that I be aware of that. So she started to send me for most weekends, holidays and vacations to stay with my grandparents whether she could get away or not.”
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