Heavenly Match

by Sharon DeVita

  Dedication

  To my husband Tony: After seventeen years, my only regret is that we have but a lifetime together.

  Chapter One

  Why, oh why, had she ever let her aunt talk her into this blind date? Molly wondered wildly. Carefully hidden behind a towering plastic fern, she had a clear view of the man. Even though he was halfway across the crowded restaurant, Molly was certain it was him!

  Groaning softly, she gratefully accepted a complimentary glass of champagne from a passing waiter before parting the plastic branches for another peek at her date.

  Lord, on second glance, it was even worse than she had first thought! Molly desperately downed her champagne. The man was leaning against a far wall, twitching nervously. He was short and bald, with the droopiest eyes this side of a basset hound. His skin was milky white, and apparently he had misplaced his chin, since his fuzzy growth of beard appeared to sprout from somewhere in his neck. What little hair he did have was gray and worn long; it hung limply down the back of his egg-shaped head, grazing the collar of his plaid polyester sports coat.

  Molly frowned. What the devil was the matter with his pants? She craned her neck for a better look, and her sapphire eyes widened in horror. Lord, the man had shrunk his pants! The trousers, which were a riotous shade of lime green, stopped just above his ankles to reveal a pair of faded yellow sports socks. At least both his shoes appeared to match, Molly thought, as she grabbed another glass of champagne.

  She sighed deeply as her eyes took him in. At least her aunt had been right about one thing: Jonathan Kent, Molly’s blind date, did look exactly like his eighty-five-year-old grandmother!

  “Are you hiding, or are you the plant inspector?”

  Molly froze. The rich masculine voice was just close enough and soft enough to skate along her nerve endings, jerking her to attention. With as much dignity as she could muster, she pulled her head from between the plastic branches and turned to face the man. Her eyes went directly to the shock of copper hair atop his head. He looks like a fire hydrant, she thought giddily. The fiery curls were combed neatly, but several strands fell across his forehead, giving him a somewhat boyish look.

  But this was no boy, Molly realized with a jolt as her eyes traveled to his face. And what a face, she thought dizzily: deep aquamarine eyes, a straight proud nose and a full mouth that was just made for kissing. As her gaze toured the length of him, she became aware of the width of his shoulders and his long lean frame. He towered over her five-foot-three frame, and she wasn’t at all certain the immaculate gray, pin-striped suit he wore wasn’t painted on; it molded his sculptured body perfectly, outlining every muscle, every bulge.

  Blushing, Molly pulled her eyes up to a more respectable level. She stiffened. His eyes were doing a little touring of their own. She suddenly wished she had taken her aunt’s advice and left a few buttons open at the neck of her dress. And it certainly wouldn’t have hurt to have let her dark brown hair fall loose to her shoulders. The crisp French braid was fine for work, but somehow, with this man’s eyes on her, the last thing she wanted to look like was a prim and proper kindergarten teacher. Why, oh why, hadn’t she listened to her aunt and advertised her “wares” a little more?

  “Are you hiding?” he repeated with a lopsided grin.

  “Of course, I’m hiding,” she whispered, lost in his eyes. They were fabulous—tiny flecks of green amid a sea of rich, deep blue.

  “Who are you hiding from?” His easy tone was laced with humor.

  “Not who,” she corrected. “Whom.”

  “Whom?”

  “Whom are you hiding from?”

  He chuckled softly, then threw up his hands. “I give up. Whom are you hiding from?”

  Molly smiled weakly. “I don’t know.”

  His amber brows rose, and a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. “You don’t know?”

  “That’s right.” Molly frowned. Was he dense? She’d just explained that to him, hadn’t she? She reached out to grab another glass of champagne from a passing waiter, but a large, warm hand reached out and stopped her.

  “Oh, no you don’t. I think you’ve had quite enough to drink. I’m not even sure you’re old enough to drink.” His eyes slid over her again, and Molly shivered. His look made her feel more lightheaded than the champagne.

  Noting the sudden mischief dancing in his eyes, Molly yanked her hand free and tried to garner some feminine dignity. “For your information, sir, I am quite old enough to drink. And,” she added boldly, lifting her empty glass in the air, “old enough to do a great many other things.”

  “I see,” he murmured, struggling to look somber. “You’re old enough to drink and do a great many other things. You’re hiding, but you don’t know from whom.” He scratched his head in obvious confusion. “Have I got all of this so far?”

  Molly smiled. “Got it.”

  A fresh grin trembled across his lips. “Good. At least we’re making progress, I think. Now, where do we go from here?” His brows rose expectantly as Molly parted the plastic branches for him.

  “See that man over there?” she whispered, as he bent his long frame to peer through the plant. His face was so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck, and a heated shiver ran down her spine.

  “That one?” He turned to her, his masculine voice filled with disbelief.

  “That’s the one.” Molly nodded dismally, then took a deep breath. The scent of his after-shave was positively heavenly. Woodsy with a hint of pine, it caressed her dazed senses like a warm breeze. “What are you wearing?” she asked absently. “It smells wonderful.” Her lids fluttered closed for a moment, and she swayed, not certain if it was from the champagne or from the man standing next to her.

  “Whoa, easy.” He dropped his hands to her shoulders to steady her, but his touch had just the opposite effect, and Molly swayed again. Swallowing hard, she took another deep breath, savoring the scent of him.

  “Easy, girl.” His grin widened and his eyes twinkled. “Now, what about that man? Why are we hiding from him? And why on earth are we whispering?” He straightened his long frame, and Molly had to tilt her head back to look at him. A pleasurable experience, she decided as a jolt skidded along her spine.

  “I’m not hiding, not really. I don’t even know that man. Not yet, anyway.” Molly frowned. He was grinning down at her again.

  “Come on, pretty lady. What you need is some fresh air. It will help clear your head.” He grabbed her hand and started pulling her through the restaurant.

  “No, wait!” she yelped. “He’ll see me.”

  He stopped abruptly and stared at her, his face a study in confusion. “Who’ll see you?”

  This one was handsome, but dense. “That man,” she repeated with forced patience. “He’ll see me.”

  “But I thought you just said you didn’t know—that you weren’t hiding— Never mind.” Laughing, he shook his head. “Come on, you need that fresh air a lot more than I thought. Let’s go stand by the back door. I think it’s open. That way no one will see us.” Before she could protest, he spun on his heel, tugging her along behind him.

  The cool, fresh air hit Molly square in the face, and she took a deep, shaky breath, vividly aware that he was still holding her hand. His fingers, wrapped gently around hers, were having a strange effect on her inner system.

  “Feeling better?” he queried, watching as she took large gulps of fresh air.

  “Much,” she lied, feeling anything but better. The sudden rush of air to her lungs did little to soften the impact this man was having on her.

  “Now how about an explanation? One piece at a time, please.” His brows rose hopefully and Molly’s heart sank. What could she tell him? That her dear, sweet, w
ell-intentioned aunt had a nasty habit of corralling any moving thing in pants in an effort to find a man for her? No, she certainly couldn’t tell him that.

  “The man inside? You do remember who he is, don’t you?” His brows drew together, and Molly shifted uncomfortably, a weak smile on her face.

  “Oh yes,” she murmured, “the man inside.” How could she forget? At the moment she gladly would have strangled Aunt Emily. How could she tell this man that her aunt arranged her dates? Getting a man wasn’t a problem; keeping Aunt Emily from getting her one was!

  Gathering her dwindling courage, Molly took a deep breath and lifted her chin. “That man inside is…Jonathan Kent. My blind date.” A sigh of relief escaped her. There! The words were out, but she hardly recognized the hoarse whisper as her own.

  “Your what?” His mouth was twitching, and Molly heaved an exasperated sigh.

  “Blind date,” she repeated. Shaking her head numbly, Molly sought to put some words together. “My aunt arranged a blind date for me with the grandson of her best friend. I wasn’t hiding from— I wanted a chance to— I just—” Molly stopped as a deep chuckle broke loose from his broad chest.

  Glaring at him, Molly resisted the urge to give him a good whack. It certainly wasn’t all that funny!

  “Tell me,” he managed to get out, “how did you pick out this…”

  “Kent,” she supplied stiffly. “Jonathan Kent.”

  “This Kent fellow from the crowd?”

  Molly scowled. “That was easy. My aunt said he looked just like his grandmother.” A small whimper escaped her lips. “She was right.”

  “I see.” He looked into her eyes, and Molly could tell he didn’t see, not at all.

  “Look, I really have to be going now. I certainly don’t want to keep my date waiting.” That was certainly a lie, she thought grimly. She didn’t care if Jonathan Kent waited until the rest of his hair fell out. Judging from the looks of the man, that just might be momentarily.

  Molly turned, fully intending to leave the grinning redheaded giant standing there, but he reached out and stopped her.

  “Hey, wait a minute. I have a wonderful idea.” He rocked back on his heels and smiled down at her, causing Molly to take a step back. From the look on his face, she had a feeling his idea was not going to be all that wonderful.

  “No, really, it’s a wonderful idea,” he assured her as he bent his head to whisper in her ear. “Why don’t we just leave? No one will have to know. I can be your blind date for tonight.” His sweet breath caressed her ear, sending a pulsing shaft of pleasure through her limbs. The idea was just deliciously reckless enough to warrant momentary consideration. But then her senses righted. What would she tell her aunt? That she just happened to pick up a strange man in the bar? No, that would never do.

  Hesitantly she lifted her eyes to his. He was so close that she could see the tiny laugh lines around his eyes, see the light dusting of fawn-colored freckles across his nose, see the way his soft mouth gently sloped upward. Molly blinked. His nearness was doing strange things to her.

  “That’s—that’s just not possible,” she stammered, unable to drag her eyes from his. “In the first place it would be…” Molly closed her eyes. Wonderful, she thought silently. “Rude,” she gasped aloud, startled by the train of her traitorous thoughts. “Yes, it would be incredibly rude. And in the second place…” Molly looked up at him and her thoughts scattered like leaves in a brisk fall wind. She’d think of another good reason in a moment, she was almost sure of it.

  “And in the second place?” he queried gently.

  “Um…I already have a date.” Lord, her date! She was out here fantasizing about running off into the night with a perfect stranger, and Jonathan Kent was probably twitching around the four corners of the restaurant looking for her. “Look, I really have to go now,” she muttered, backing up a bit. Turning, she fled back into the restaurant, pausing for a moment in the washroom to compose herself.

  Were there no gentlemen left in the world? she wondered miserably. First, she’d gotten matched with a man better suited to a bulldog. Then she’d had the dismal misfortune of meeting a man who’d assumed she was the type of woman to slip off into the night with a perfect stranger. A wistful smile curved her lips. She had to admit, the redheaded stranger was perfect in every detail. That smile was the most glorious, nerve-splitting smile she had ever seen. And those eyes. Molly sighed dreamily. He had a way of looking at her that made her feel as if she were the only person in the world. His world, at least.

  Her spirits dropped and an unwelcome tension tightened her shoulders. No use daydreaming about a man she would probably never see again. Right now she had more pressing problems, like how she was going to get through the evening with Jonathan Kent.

  Molly shook her head. Ever since Molly had broken her engagement the year before, her aunt had been hauling men home like wayward strays, hoping to find a good one for her. She was perfectly happy with her job as a kindergarten teacher and with her pet cat, Nickodemus, and, of course, with Aunt Emily. A man would only complicate things. Besides, she had learned her lesson. Long ago she’d realized that men were nice as long as they didn’t get close enough to hurt her. Molly took pains to make sure that none ever did.

  Her expression darkened and she scowled at her reflection. One thing was certain: this was going to be a very early evening. The sooner it was over the better. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about faking a headache tonight, because she suddenly had a ferocious one.

  Winding her way through the crowded restaurant again, Molly was relieved to find that her blind date was nowhere to be found. Maybe he’s left, she thought hopefully as she approached the maître d’.

  “Hello, I’m Molly Maguire. I’m here to meet—”

  “Yes, of course, right this way.” He dutifully cupped her elbow as he led her through the crowded dining room. “Here we are, Miss Maguire.” He motioned her to a booth.

  Might as well get this over with, Molly thought, plastering a tight smile on her face. She deliberately kept her eyes down as she slid into the booth. “I’m Molly Maguire,” she said with exaggerated brightness. When she forced herself to look at the man opposite her, the breath rushed from her lungs. “You!” It was him! The redheaded giant that had tried to get her to slip off with him.

  “Hello, again.” He gave her a mock salute that ignited her temper. Molly’s jaw clamped stubbornly, and she glared at him across the table.

  “If this is your idea of a joke, I don’t think it’s very funny. I already told you, I have a date!” Lord, why her? Groaning softly, Molly started to slide out of the booth, but she froze as her eyes settled on Jonathan Kent. He was tottering toward them, swiveling his egg-shaped head in every direction. He’s looking for me, Molly thought in a panic. Her heart gave a lurch, and her pulse danced into double time.

  “You!” she whispered to the redheaded giant. “I have to get rid of you. You have to hide.”

  “Hide?” he repeated innocently.

  “Don’t tell me you’re hard of hearing on top of everything else.” When he made no attempt to move, Molly lifted the delicate lace tablecloth and peered underneath. No, he’d never fit under the table, at least not without being noticed. If it wasn’t for those darn long legs she might have been able to squeeze him in.

  “May I ask what you’re doing?” he asked with maddening calm.

  “Trying to find someplace to hide you,” she snapped.

  “How about in here?” He picked up her small clutch purse and waved it under her nose. She snatched it from his hand, sorely tempted to try and stuff him into it.

  “This is all your fault,” she whispered fiercely as her blind date approached. What on earth was she going to tell Jonathan Kent? That she brought along a spare man just in case he didn’t work out? What a mess!

  Never, ever again, would she go out on another date, blind or otherwise! She darted a glance at the man sitting across from her. He was totally calm and
seemingly oblivious to her panic. Why didn’t he just go away and leave her alone in her misery? She couldn’t handle one man, let alone two!

  Nervously biting her lip, Molly made a conscious effort to calm down. She’d just have to tell the truth. She’d simply have to explain to Jonathan Kent that the man wouldn’t leave her alone.

  The bald-headed man tottered past her without even glancing in her direction. Startled, Molly gaped after him.

  “Excuse me, but if you’re through playing hide-and-seek, I’d like to introduce myself.”

  Molly’s head snapped around at the rich laughter in his voice. Her eyes met his, and for an instant she thought she might faint. “You?” she asked weakly. “Don’t tell me you’re Jonathan Kent!”

  Chapter Two

  “Molly? It is Molly, isn’t it?”

  His teasing tone only added to her embarrassment, and Molly’s cheeks burned. The first time her aunt had fixed her up with a handsome, normal man, she’d behaved like a mindless twit! What on earth must the man think of her? There were several possibilities, she realized. He probably thought she was drunk or demented. Possibly both!

  A spark of anger penetrated her embarrassment. It was just as much his fault as hers. Molly lifted her head, sapphire eyes blazing. “Why the devil didn’t you just tell me who you were?”

  With his eyes intent on her, Jonathan stretched his long frame, then settled back comfortably against the booth. “You really didn’t give me much chance. You were too busy trying to dodge Mr. Egghead.”

  Did he have to remind her? she wondered miserably. Reluctantly, she had to admit what he said was true. She really hadn’t given him much chance to explain. She’d never suspected that Jonathan was— How on earth could she have known? Jonathan Kent was not like any blind date she’d ever encountered.

  Molly gave him a weak smile, hoping to make amends. “Look, Jonathan, I’m sorry. I had no idea— It never occurred to me that you—” Her voice broke as her thoughts scattered. Did he have to stare at her so intently? It made it nearly impossible to think, let alone speak.