Gypsy Road - Leather And Lace Part 7

"You should have fresh flowers every day." He backed up only enough to offer her the bouquet.

Transferring the folder under her arm, she took them, wis.h.i.+ng she wasn't shy or silly or boring. Because it was no wonder women loved him. She'd never met a man as charming. "Thank you."

With his hand cupping her chin, he raised her mouth and kissed her without deepening it. "I missed you today. Every second was like an hour."

Confirming her own feelings was unnecessary. She'd already done that transparently.

"So'd you talk to your brother last night?" he asked, using both hands to dry her cheeks. Then he settled his arms loosely around her waist.

"He called a few minutes after you'd gone."

Rod nodded, smiling a little, and she wanted to hug him for asking something others would consider mundane. "Did you tell him about me?"

Bethany hadn't expected this, but managed in a halting voice, "Yes."

"So, what'd he think?"

His expression was so boyish, she didn't have the heart to tell him the truth. "He's. . .he doesn't really know you."

When his happiness disappeared like the sun behind a cloud, she rushed to a.s.sure him what her brother thought was no reflection of what she thought.

Moving her free hand to the outside of his biceps, she squeezed gently. "Randy's just protective. It doesn't mean anything. All he's heard are rumors."

She didn't know him well enough to be able to interpret the emotion that tightened his mouth. "What about you? Do you pay attention to rumors?"

It would be a complete lie for her to say that she wasn't a little intimidated by what she'd heard of him, that she wasn't worried the rumor of his fickleness might be true. The only thing she could say was the rumors hadn't succeeded in making her distance herself.

"I pay attention, but it doesn't mean I always believe them," she said softly, wanting to avert her gaze but knowing he'd only force her to face him.

"I won't lie to you, Bethany. I haven't been a saint, and I won't be one with you either. But I promise I'll never lie to you or make you promises I can't keep."

Oh gosh, she hoped he wasn't going to tell her about his former girlfriends. At one time in the past or at some point in the future, things might be different. But for the present she didn't want to know anything about the others.

He leaned down and kissed her quickly. "Let's get outta here. Are you hungry? Wanna go somewhere?"

Letting go of her dream was difficult and since she might never have another chance, she admitted, "I wanted to make you dinner."

He grinned as if she'd suggested taking him on a quick jaunt to Disney World. "Really? You'd do that?"

"I'd love to. . .if you want me to."

"OK, but let's go to my place. I want you to see it."

"I'd have to go shopping--" she tried to get out of it, knowing she'd be uncomfortable there.

"No problem. There's a grocery store on the way."

She nodded as he turned, putting his arm around her to lead her out, the way he had Nicole Martini the day they'd met.

Cameron was in the back seat again and greeted her as warmly as he would someone he'd known for years. She petted him enthusiastically, not minding when he drooled on her jacket. How could she be mad when he was so sweet and so excited to see her?

"You ever been to The Keys? Florida Keys?" Rod asked after he started the car.

Turning in her seat to face him, she shook her head and reached for the belt buckle.

"You wanna go? Can you take a vacation from work?"

Was he asking her to go away with him? Already? As astonished as she was, she was also tempted. And regretful. "Do you mean soon? I have to go to Madison tomorrow morning. I was going to tell you later."

If she'd told him she was visiting an asylum, he couldn't have looked any more crestfallen. "Why do you need to go there?"

Certainly not because she wanted to, but it was her last option. Something she'd been dreading and antic.i.p.ating at the same time. "I'm meeting with an investor. I'm not sure how long I'll be there."

"An investor? You mean for your salon?"

Bethany nodded, unsure of what, if anything, he wanted to know about it.

"You're not in trouble, are you?"

He obviously meant her business, and it shamed her to disclose the truth to someone as successful as she a.s.sumed him to be. "Not immediate. But I'm not sure I can stay open after this year if I don't get an investor."

She'd met him at a trade show that summer, and the only thing she'd liked about the idea of acquiring an investor was that he was independent. If nothing had changed, at least he wouldn't turn her salon into a chain. All the joy of owning her own business would disappear if that happened.

"I'm sure I'll be back in a few days." She tried to smile because he took it as seriously as she did.

"Can I go with you?"

He wasn't joking. That was instantly clear. What was she supposed to do with this man? He was unlike anyone she'd ever met. Everything was on the surface with him. He didn't play games or heed decorum.

"It's business. I don't think you would find it very interesting."

"I don't care, as long as you're there."

He was so adorable, she almost burst into tears again. Glancing at her after he pulled into a parking s.p.a.ce at the grocery store, he guessed, "No?"

It was torture to, but she had to deny him.

"I guess I'll have to go to The Keys with the guys then."

The lump in her throat and the knot in her stomach told her her time was running out.

It was a house that could be considered beautiful, but nothing except the swimming pool spoke of extreme wealth. The inside had very little by way of color. All the furniture was white, the carpet was white, the curtains. . .

Bethany's mind whirled with the decorating mistakes that could be so easily corrected.

"You live here by yourself?" she asked.

"No. My sister lives here about two weeks a year."

Commenting on the strangeness of him living with his sister would be hypocritical, so she simply nodded and followed him to the kitchen.

The room was ultra modern, seeming to have all the conveniences. Rod set down the two bags of groceries. "I'm gonna go call Jon to tell him to count me in for The Keys. Go ahead and use whatever you need."

When he left the room, she unpacked the bags, then glanced timidly through the cupboards to see what kind of dishes he had. The few supplies shocked her.

How could he survive without the basics? The only plates were made of paper. The gla.s.ses were Styrofoam. Surprisingly, the silverware wasn't plastic.

So much for her special dinner.

In a bottom cupboard, she found a large saucepan that looked brand new, three pizza pans, and an aluminum, rectangular pan. She'd never made lasagna in aluminum before, but she had no choice.

When Rod came back in the kitchen, she wanted to ask him how he fed himself in such a spa.r.s.e kitchen, but she lost the ability for words when he came up in back of her while she opened the box of lasagna noodles.

"Find everything you need?" he asked pressing his bare chest to her back.

Her stomach did a reckless somersault as his fingers spread across her abdomen.

She must have nodded, though she knew nothing for sure except that Sunday must have been a dream. He couldn't have touched her and made her feel motherly.

Not when this less intimate touch almost sent her to the roof like a startled cat.

"You smell good." He adjusted her hair off her shoulder and brushed his mouth to the back of her neck.

His scent was potent to her too. It was a combination of everything she a.s.sociated with wild men--leather, musk and nature.

Bethany held the box of noodles with a feeble grip. Yes, yesterday had all been a dream. She was a virgin, with each and every one of the connotations of the word. She wasn't ready for anything more than kissing and hand-holding. What had ever made her believe she could give herself to a man she hardly knew, even one that she was falling in love with?

"Um. . .are these all the dishes you have?" she choked out.

He lifted his head. "Oh. No. n.o.body cooks or wants to do dishes around here, so almost everything I bought when I moved in is still in boxes in the bas.e.m.e.nt. Want me to go get them?"

Feeling guilty because she was afraid of her own conflicting emotions, she nodded. He gave her a hug before going out of the room again.

Maybe the rumors about him and all the warnings she'd received were getting to her. Or maybe she was just being realistic finally. If he went to The Keys, even if he stayed in Stevens Point, he wouldn't wait for her to get back. Rod was a healthy, red-blooded man with needs. Needs she couldn't fulfill, needs he'd have no trouble satisfying with anyone he wanted.

The three or four days she might be gone would be asking too much of him to wait. Three or four days of together or apart wouldn't be enough for her to surrender herself anyway. Sooner or later, he'd feel tortured by staying with her. Anyway, he was probably as sweet and charming with all women as he was with her. It had nothing to do with her. As Nicole Martini had said, Bethany was a novelty for him.

She'd made herself thoroughly miserable now. It was an effort to start the meal rather than run home to cry her eyes out like a baby.

Rod made three trips to bring all the dishes up from the bas.e.m.e.nt. She found a gla.s.s dish for baking the lasagna, nice plates, and a Dutch oven. From the bar in the living room, he brought delicate wine gla.s.ses, completing her fantasy.

He set the table while she cooked the noodles and sauce. After that, he watched her arrange the layers, not speaking, and her discomfort was more intense than ever. What was he thinking? He'd told her on Sat.u.r.day none of his "babies" had ever cooked for him. Was that because domestic women turned him off?

"It'll be twenty to thirty minutes," she said after she slid the gla.s.s dish into the oven.

"Can't wait."

Trying to smile, she immediately started to clean things up. Rod stood, coming around the table. "Wanna tour of the house?"

Bethany was relieved, and she nodded. Cameron followed them as Rod showed her around, mentioned that he planned to turn one of the spare bedrooms into an office for his sister's birthday. The extravagance made Bethany cringe at the inexpensive hardcover book of a favorite author she'd gotten for her brother's last birthday.

"This wing is JoJo's," Rod said when they climbed to the second floor of the house and he pointed to the left side. "She doesn't like anybody trespa.s.sing, whether she's home or not."

A little comforted about that--she didn't want to see his sister's private boudoir--she followed him into the other wing. The first bedroom had a bed and closet, apparently something of guest accommodations. The second had nothing except the closet and a lot of empty s.p.a.ce just waiting to be filled. Rod introduced the last room at the end of the hall as his own.

Though it was fairly obvious the room was his, with the car magazines and clothes on the floor or hung over chairs, it was also clear that a woman had been in it recently. One of the closets was filled with a woman's clothes, and the dresser had jewelry and perfume strewn all over it. This had been the room, the bed he'd shared with Nicole Martini and most likely many other s.h.i.+ps pa.s.sing in the night.

The way Nicole left, or been forced to leave, horrified Bethany. She'd left without any of her things, as though she believed they didn't matter if it meant getting out. Had Rod cared nothing for her at that point in the. . .affair?

It was difficult for Bethany to accept that a woman wouldn't care about Rod, if she'd been intimate with him. Apparently the way Rod put his arm around Nicole to lead her out of Bethany's salon had been an act of mercy. Or maybe it really didn't bother him to like two women at the same time.

Had he slept with Nicole after that, before he'd shown up at Bethany's apartment bearing a waterfall of flowers?

Suddenly she didn't feel well. She'd almost given herself to this man the previous day, not to mention that she was falling in love with him. He was a carbon copy of Scott Reeves, only with a more effective approach. Wis.h.i.+ng that his private life wasn't so public, she averted her face when they left his room to continue the tour.

After that, she made an excuse about checking on dinner. He followed her this time and asked her when her brother would be visiting.

Locating a pair of oven mitts, she murmured, "I'm not sure. He's not sure.

But soon." Ducking to look into the oven, she concluded five more minutes.

"Why?"

"So I can meet him. Once he meets me, maybe he'll like me. Then you won't feel conflicted, being my baby."

Bethany couldn't look at him. Straightening, her back still to him, she removed the mitts. It was things such as he'd said that created one side of her conflict. How could the rumors and gossip and speculation paint him as a two-faced, capricious lady-killer when he said such sweet things? When he appeared so honest-to-a-fault? Why else would he want to meet her brother? In the short amount of time she surmised he spent with a woman, he couldn't make time to meet her family. Not unless he was trying to make enemies.

Rod just didn't strike her that way. He seemed to want everyone to love him; breaking hearts was purely an accident based on misunderstood intentions.

The only problem this time was he hadn't made any ground rules with her.

She had no idea what, if anything, she should expect of him and what he considered off-limits. And she certainly didn't have the nerve to ask him.

He poured them each a gla.s.s of wine from the bottle he'd taken from the refrigerator when she turned toward him. The first thought that came to her mind as she sipped the smooth blend was of where it had come from. Had Rod or Nicole bought it and drank a single gla.s.s together after. . .?

The click that came from Rod setting the gla.s.s down on the countertop startled her, and her face blazed as she glanced at him instinctively. He moved over to her, took the gla.s.s to set it down, and wrapped a hand around the curve of her neck. "What's wrong, sweetness? You look like you lost your best friend."

"I'm fine," she insisted, clasping her hands together in front of her. She enjoyed his embrace too much, and that frightened her. He'd put her under his spell from the minute she met him. She couldn't trust herself.

Snaking his hand around to cup her chin, he held her to receive a light kiss that threatened to make her, inadvertently, cry again.

"I bought you something," he said, obviously trying to make her smile.

Whether he meant it to or not, his announcement threw her completely off-balance. "What? What?"