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He looked over her shoulder, as if expecting a parent with a shotgun. ‘Well, can you come out?’
She fortified herself with a breath. ‘Why, yes,’ she said, closing the door behind her. ‘I can. I need to talk to you.’
‘Fu
Dee tried to smile, but she knew it looked stupid. She swore her heart could be heard down the block, it was beating so hard. And it was fragile enough right now that she feared serious injury. ‘Um, there’s a garden bench in the back.’
‘Perfect,’ he said. ‘I love sitting in a jungle on a nice day.’
They did have to wade through a veritable sea of rhododendrons, wisteria, and lilac to get to a bench, and Dee caught sight of Pywackt prowling in the shadows like the predator he was. But the garden was out of sight of the street. On the other hand, she’d be isolated with Da
Dee was about to sit down on the cedar bench when Da
He turned, held out his hand, guided her to her seat. Dee couldn’t take her eyes from him. It was such a simple thing, a gift of courtesy. But it made her want to cry. Nobody ever thought to do for Dee O’Brien. Dee knew it was because of the face she put on, that she was in charge, in control. But Da
Oh, she thought, gazing up at him like a besotted girl as he settled in next to her. She could so fall in love with him.
Then he sat down himself. ‘I have a message from your aunt.’
Well, so much for fantasies. ‘Pardon?’
He pulled out his keys and started playing with them, a sure sign of discomfort. Oh, no. Oh, no, no. Her poor, sore heart.
‘I talked to her.’
Dee pulled herself up, as if posture were protection. ‘I gathered that.’
He nodded, still not facing her. ‘I know you think she’s-’
‘The spawn of Satan? The inspiration for every succubus in history?’
That got a grin out of him. ‘I really wish you had an opinion on anything, Dee.’
Oh, don’t be charming. That makes it worse. ‘What did she say?’
He was at the keys again, so that they jangled. He kept that up, he’d end up with Pywackt in his face.
‘Your aunt wants to meet with you.’
Worse and worse. ‘I bet she does. And when does she get in from Santa Fe?’
‘Uh…’ Da
Dee lurched to her feet. ‘Oh, my God. You’ve seen her’
‘Well, yeah. She’s at the Lighthorse.’
Dee didn’t say another word. Shoving wisteria aside like an advancing defensive line, she turned and stalked off. She didn’t even get past the front gate before Da
‘I really wish you’d stop doing that,’ he said, trying to hold her back.
She batted his hand away. ‘I have to see my aunt.’
Da
Dee tried to pull away, and found that she couldn’t fight hard enough. Suddenly the smell of lilac was cloying, and she hated it. ‘No,’ she said. ‘She sees me or she sees no one.’
And if she did, Dee could save them all a lot of time and grief and just rip her eyes out and feed them to her on a plate.
‘Let me give you a ride down there,’ Da
That took the starch out of her. He was trying to protect her, to help her, and it hurt. Because for the first time in her life, that was what she wanted.
So he could take her to Xan, whom he’d seen.
‘Dee? Honey, you okay?’
Dee just nodded, her eyes closed. God, how could she smell him over the overwhelming scent of wisteria and lilac? She did, though, a bracing hint of wind and the sea in this claustrophobic little garden. That awful temptation of freedom and flight. He still had her by the arm, but his hold was gentle. It made Dee want to cry all over again.
‘Before we go,’ he was saying, ‘I really need to know something.’ Dee didn’t move. Da
Oh, no. Not last night. Not when she had to fortify herself for Xan.
‘Did I hurt you?’
Dee’s eyes snapped open. ‘What?’
His eyes were soft and uncertain. Vulnerable. As if he’d thought what had happened had been somehow his fault.
‘You’re the bravest woman I know,’ he said. ‘Good God, Dee, you’ve raised your sisters alone since you were sixteen. I just couldn’t imagine you ru
Well, this certainly was the end. Dee was as lost as a romance heroine. How could she not love Da
‘Oh, Da
‘Then you…’
The wind caught the flowers and sent some of them spi
‘You promise.’
Tears she allowed for no one pooled in her eyes. ‘On my honor. And the girls can tell you I’m tough on that kind of stuff.’
He took her hand in both of his and raised it for a kiss. ‘I’ve never met anybody like you, Deirdre Dolores O’Brien.’
He’d met Xan. Dee came so close to asking him if she was more. More beautiful, more compelling, more everything a good man wanted.
‘You sure you want to go see her?’ he asked, again echoing her thoughts.
‘Yeah. But I have a question for you first.’ She found herself holding tight to those work-roughened hands, really afraid now. ‘Who was she?’
‘Pardon?’
Had the wind died? It sounded so suddenly still, as if breath were being held.
‘How would you describe her? Sophia Loren? Susan Sarandon?’
He considered, her hand still captive. ‘Delilah.’ And Dee had thought she’d lost the capacity for surprise. ‘Delilah?’
He gri
Dee couldn’t move. She couldn’t look away from him. How do you answer a statement like that? He was wrong, of course. Xan wasn’t sad. She was evil. But she was empty. Just a shell fabricated from manipulation and cupidity.
‘Do you trust me?’ she asked.
It was his turn to reach out, ru
Dee stiffened, until she saw that sly gleam in his eyes. ‘Nobody’s called me that and lived to tell the tale, mister’
‘But I like sharp-tongued shrews. Or weren’t you listening?’
She wasn’t breathing. The wind must have risen, because she swore she had dust in her eyes. And the dust carried that brief, bright sight of Da
There will be disaster.
She hadn’t hurt this hard since she’d shoved her sisters onto a bus at three a.m. and made off with them and her mother’s jewels.
‘Well,’ she said, as if it were all a game, ‘this sharp-tongued shrew needs to see her aunt. You wa
‘I wouldn’t be anywhere else.’
Dee climbed on the bike, much easier in jeans and sweater, and wrapped her arms around Da