“And these guys?” As he sipped coffee that he agreed was excellent, he walked over to the bar and examined the two bowls sitting there. One fish, a brilliant red, swam up to the top as if to study him, too. The other fish, a deep purple with a black head, zoomed up also. “Any reason why they have separate rooms?”
“Rocky and Bullwinkle,” Celeste said. “They’re Bettas. They’re also called Siamese fighting fish, which is why they have their own bowls. You put them in the same bowl, they’ll fight to the death.” She picked up a container of food and tapped a couple of pieces in each bowl. “With my schedule, it’s not a good idea to have a dog or even a cat. These guys don’t get cranky if I’m late getting home or have to work extra hours.”
“And they don’t shed on the furniture,” Luc murmured.
“Do you have any pets?”
He shook his head. “Like you, I don’t spend that much time home. I’d probably end up killing even fish.”
“These guys are pretty hardy.”
Luc finished his coffee and watched her walk into a small room that was obviously her bedroom. She came out holding a denim jacket that she slipped on over the rose-colored turtleneck sweater and calf-length denim skirt that topped brown boots. Her hair was more casual than the way she wore it during her hours at the bar. Now it looked tousled, as if she had merely scrunched it with her fingers when she got up that morning.
He knew she came from money, and even in these dark surroundings, she showed that wealthy background without flaunting it.
Luc had seen more than his share of the spoiled rich misses come into Dante’s Cafe. And more than one of them wanted to get to know Luc Dante every which way possible. Some he’d taken to bed and promptly forgotten. He’d prided himself on not allowing anyone to have his heart.
But Celeste Bradshaw was touching something inside him.
He hungered to know more about the woman. He wanted to learn her secrets. To discover her innermost thoughts—even though he knew nothing could ever happen between them.
So why had he committed himself to the two of them spending the day together?
Because he wanted to be with her any way he could. That way, he might be able to get her out of his system without any damage to his soul. Except that he knew he had lost his heart years ago.
Once they were in his car, Celeste pulled out a notebook.
“Not yet,” Luc said, switching on the engine.
“You haven’t said what this day entails.”
“Call it a surprise. And to protect both of us, we’ll be going out of town.” Luc steered the car toward the highway.
“Then we can pretend to be two people out for the day,” Celeste said, half turning in the seat. “So tell me about yourself, Luc Dante.”
“I haven’t had even a parking ticket.”
“Amazing that piece of information wasn’t in any of the articles about you and your partners,” Celeste said dryly. “You’re the poster boys for bad boys make good. You give second chances to those who are willing to work hard for one, and you don’t take crap from anyone.”
“That’s me.”
She narrowed her eyes as she studied him. “Come on, Dante, throw me a bone. Tell me something about yourself.”
“The cop in you is coming out, Bradshaw.” He deftly wove in and out of traffic.
“If I’m not allowed to ask questions, why are we doing this?”
“Because I’m kidnapping you.”
“My partner knows I’m with you and he’s relentless. He’ll track you down like the best bloodhound in the state.”
“The man who bets on when a supposed werewolf comes into the station? I’m shaking in my boots.” A tiny smile touched his lips.
“Dylan’s a tough guy. He has to be.”
Luc shook his head. “I couldn’t do what he does. I don’t know how you can.”
“We do it because someone has to.”
“But why you? It’s not as if you have to work. What prompted you to work sex crimes?”
“As opposed to what?”
“As opposed to marrying Mr. Right and raising a perfect family. You’re not cop material.”
Celeste looked out the window at the lush green fields courtesy of all the rain they’d had.
“I was a psychology major in college,” she said. “I’d planned to go on and get my doctorate and work with children.”
“But something changed your mind.”
“Ellen Jameson,” she replied. “She was my roommate from our freshman year on. We pledged the same sorority. We had it all planned. We’d work until we were twenty-five, then we’d marry and raise our families.”
Luc sensed the shift in her mood. “Except?”
“Except in our junior year, Ellen was raped by a guy she was dating.” Celeste continued looking out the car window. “It’s not a new story. They’d dated a few times. She thought he was a nice guy. Except that he decided it was time to take their relationship a step further and she didn’t want to. She said no, he ignored her, and she came home with torn clothing and without her virginity.”
Luc breathed a silent sigh of relief. He’d expected a similar story, but with Celeste at its center.
“Police aren’t always tolerant of college girls who’ve been raped by their dates,” Celeste went on. “Or understanding or even polite. She was asked if she’d done something to provoke the guy. Had she led him on, then changed her mind? Ellen retreated while I fought on her behalf. I was so angry with them all, and I let them know it. Two months later, Ellen took a bottle of sleeping pills.”
He reached for her hand and found it ice cold.
“So you became a cop to protect the Ellens in this world.”
“Exactly,” she said. “I got my degree and immediately entered the police academy. During my first few years, views toward date rape changed. Since Sierra Vista had recently incorporated and was hiring officers, I had an easy time getting hired on. And not because of my father,” she added. “He would have done everything possible to keep me off the force. I worked hard to make detective and then I worked even harder to set up a domestic crimes unit.”
“I didn’t think Sierra Vista was large enough to warrant an entire unit devoted to domestic crimes,” Luc said.
“Domestic crimes covers rape, domestic violence and child abuse. There are four of us. We work long hours, we’re on call twenty-four hours a day, and I think we’ve all made a difference.”
“And by doing that, you’ve been able to rescue Ellen again and again.”
Celeste looked at him surprised. “The man knows his psychology.”
“You couldn’t save your friend, so you save who you can.”
“Yes, I guess I do. Sierra Vista has been growing for the past few years. More families with children are moving in. We’re not a sleepy little town anymore, where the worst crime was some teenage boy painting his girlfriend’s name on the overpass.”
“I doubt that has ever been the worst crime in Sierra Vista.”
“True,” she said.
“No thinking about the case,” he ordered. “Let’s, at least, have this morning.”
“It’s been so long since I’ve been out for the day,” Celeste said.
“What do you usually do when you go out for the day?” Luc asked, curious about her.
“Oh, I pick up a variety of frozen meals that can be microwaved in the shortest amount of time, pick up my dry cleaning, cruise the drugstore, maybe pick up a video or two. If I’m feeling wild, I’ll spend a couple hours at the shooting range,” she said.
“No shopping at the mall, no having lunch with girlfriends, driving into San Francisco for dinner and a play?”
Celeste laughed. “I consider shopping on the same plane as going to the dentist. My friends still think I’m insane to be a cop, and the last time I was in San Francisco was to deliver a prisoner. Luc, my parents may have money, but I don’t. I had to make my bed and keep my room clean. I also learned my way around the k
itchen because my mother believed women should be self-sufficient. And because to this day, she can’t boil water without almost melting the teapot.”
“Yet you buy frozen meals,” Luc pointed out.
“With my crazy hours, it’s just easier. Did I tell you how much I’m enjoying working undercover at your restaurant?” she asked facetiously.
“Because of the food?”
“Definitely because of the food.” Celeste looked out the window. “Where are we going?”
“I told you it’s a surprise. A chance to get away.”
She tipped her head to one side, watching him. “You’re a very private man.”
“In some places you don’t feel you have anything to call your own, except your thoughts. You learn to keep to yourself. I guess that isn’t something you had to worry about.”
“No, I guess not,” Celeste admitted. “Although, back then, I told myself I had a horrible life. I hated myself because I had to wear braces and because I was convinced my head was too big for my body. Anytime a boy talked to me I practically broke out in hives. I admit things like that aren’t earthshaking, even if they were to me at the time.”
Luc shook his head in amazement. “You thought your head was too big for your body?”
“You had to be there. My dad used to say the day I turned thirteen was the day his hair started turning gray. He then said he was pushed over the edge the day I got my first bra. He said he knew things would never be the same again.”
“You must have been a trip back then,” Luc said.
“No, just a typical teenage girl. I didn’t enter my cute stage until around age fifteen. And by then you were what, twenty-one? You wouldn’t have looked at a kid like me twice.”
“I spent my nights studying.”
Celeste sat up straighter when she noticed the signs along the side of the road. Each advertised a different business in a tiny town called Seacrest Village that was fifteen miles away.
“We’re going to Seacrest Village?” she asked, delighted. “I haven’t been there in ages.”
“Then, I guess I made a good choice even if isn’t the best day to go there.” He looked out at the gray clouds overhead.
“Then let’s hope we don’t end up in a downpour,” she said. “With all the cloudy days and rain we’ve been getting, I have nightmares that I’ll wake up one morning with webbed feet.”
“We’ve had enough rain to make some people think about building a really large boat.” Luc turned off the highway and headed for the coast.
In no time they arrived at the small village that hugged the coastline. Geared for the tourists traveling north, the village boasted its share of antique shops, art galleries, restaurants and even a small museum of curiosities. The white painted Victorian-style buildings gave it an old-fashioned look.
Luc parked in one of the public parking lots on the edge of town. Once she stepped out of the car, Celeste buttoned up her jacket against the chilly air and pulled on gloves.
“We could go elsewhere,” he suggested, noticing her movements.
She shook her head. “I love it like this. Besides, I won’t melt.” With a smile, she held out her hand. He wrapped his hand around hers.
“I’m glad you’ve decided I’m not the enemy,” she said.
He looked down at her. Just over her shoulder he could see the storm-tossed sea, colors that were echoed in her eyes.
She was telling him to trust her.
He wanted to. That’s why he had suggested their having lunch today. He hoped she would give him more information about the attacks, and that in the process, he might think of something he hadn’t thought of before. He might not have known all the victims personally, but he had remembered each of them and wanted to do whatever he could to help find the criminal. He still refused to believe anyone at the restaurant could be a part of this.
Luc hadn’t been to the picturesque village in some time, and never with a woman. Previously, he’d come for a quiet meal and to prowl antique shops to find something new that would look good in the restaurant. A year ago he’d found an elegant writing table, which was kept out front in Dante’s for the hostess to use instead of the lectern seen in so many other restaurants.
When he suggested they get away for the day, Seacrest Village immediately come to mind. It was far enough away that they shouldn’t have any reminders of Sierra Vista. He didn’t want that intrusion. He hadn’t told Jimmy and Paulie where he was going, or with whom. He’d prided himself on never dating a woman who worked for him. He didn’t want to hear Jimmy give him a bad time for breaking his own rule, or see Paulie look at him as if he was trying to figure out what Luc was doing, just as Paulie had done many times before. Not that Luc would have an answer for him, because hell if he knew what he was doing. He just needed this time with her when nothing from their lives could interfere.
It sickened him to consider there was a connection between Prince Charming and the restaurant. After reading about the attacks, and with the little he’d gleaned so far from Celeste, he feared that was the case. If it was, he wanted to do whatever he could to help. Plus, having her all to himself today was a bonus.
“I’m surprised you didn’t base your restaurant here,” Celeste commented.
Luc shook his head. “Too touristy. I prefer having a regular clientele. My dream was to open a place where people will want to return. We started the Sunday brunches two years ago and they’ve been very successful. Private parties have only recently been offered and have also done well.”
“I would say Jimmy’s excellent cooking has something to do with it,” she told him.
A corner of his lips rose. “It does, but we don’t tell him that. He’s big headed enough as it is.”
Celeste stopped to look in a store window displaying woolen goods. A shawl draped over a rocking chair appeared to catch her interest.
“How did he get started cooking? No offense to Jimmy, but he doesn’t exactly look like the kind of man to stand at a stove most of the day.”
“That was pretty much thanks to Tank,” Luc replied. “We worked for him one summer. Paulie and I bussed tables and washed dishes while Jimmy worked in the kitchen alongside Tank. Jimmy told Tank that there was no reason why he couldn’t throw a few extra spices into his meatloaf and the hamburgers. Tank didn’t laugh at him as we thought he would. He told Jimmy he could make up the daily specials for a week. If they did better, then he’d consider Jimmy’s suggestions, and if they didn’t, then Jimmy had to shut up and do his work.”
“I’ve only seen Tank twice, but that does sound like him.”
Luc nodded. “The guys coming into the diner liked the specials, and Jimmy was on his way. Since we already knew we wanted to start a restaurant of our own, Jimmy had a chance to experiment with dishes there. Later he took some cooking classes to learn how to make fancier dishes. Not once did we kid him for taking them.”
“I wouldn’t either. So Jimmy was always the brawn, you were the brains—and what was Paulie?”
“Wrong, Paulie was the brains. I was the kid everyone trusted because I could look them in the eye when I lied.”
She looked up at him. “Amazing. You just told me something about yourself.”
“Don’t pat yourself on the back too hard, Bradshaw,” he warned her. “If I tell you something, it’s because I choose to. Not because you got it out of me.”
Celeste shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Either way, I have another piece to add to the puzzle.”
His smile was almost chilling. “Even puzzles can be deceiving. And don’t forget what I said.” He caught her eyes with his. “I’ve always been a very good liar.”
Chapter 12
H ow many secrets did the man keep from the world? What was he holding inside that he didn’t want anyone to know?
Celeste had an insatiable curiosity. More than once, it had helped her in her work, because she was relentless when she dug for the truth. Finding out about Luc Dante wasn’t easy. A sealed juv
enile record wouldn’t allow her to find out about his past. Going through other channels hadn’t given her much. And the man was elusive in talking about himself.
How many evenings had she wished for a man who didn’t constantly talk about himself and his victories in business? How many dinners had she sat through where her date did everything but stand on his head to impress her? She’d reached the point where she would have preferred to have her date stand on his thick head.
No wonder they warned you to be careful what you wished for. She’d got it…and more.
She took one last look at the shawl in the window. She never thought of herself as one who wore shawls. That was more her mother’s taste, but the color of this one fascinated her.
Perhaps she’d stop in on the way back to the car.
“I’m hoping to find some new artwork for the dining room,” Luc said. “We try to change it every four or five months.”
Celeste nodded. “Now that it’s winter, maybe something with light. The paintings in there now are beautiful, but stormy skies are a little too close to what’s outside. Sunrises or sunsets would make nice backdrops, or paintings of a clear, moonlit sky. Something that blends in as well as what you have in there now.”
“True,” he agreed. “I’ve been lucky finding what I’ve wanted in the galleries here.” He glanced at his watch. “Lunch first?”
Celeste nodded.
“Any preference?”
“You’ve been here more than I have. You choose.”
Luc’s choice was a restored lighthouse-turned-restaurant called The Crow’s Nest. One of the changes made to the building was large windows that covered the seaward side, giving the diners a view of the ocean below. Luc and Celeste were given a table by one of the windows. As Celeste was seated, Luc hung back and spoke to the hostess, who appeared to know him very well. She smiled and nodded as he slipped her something.
Celeste tamped down the jealousy that flared up inside her. When Luc joined her at the table, she smiled as if she wasn’t wondering just how well the hostess knew him.
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