Fast Courting by Barbara Delinsky Page B

more coolly, partly in defense of his nearness, of which she was acutely aware.
    Daniel raised a chiding brow. “We can’t play every night. The schedule is exhausting for the players as it is.”
    “A shame,” she mused, feeling little sympathy at the moment, knowing only her need to put space between them. He was handsome. She could feel the magnetism of his masculinity and was frightened. “Look, would you excuse me?” She grimaced at her spattered stockings. “I’d really like to change into dry things.” If it was a subtle invitation for him to leave, he promptly overlooked it.
    “I was hoping to take you to dinner.”
    “You were?” She peered up at him, half-skeptical, half-pleased. Again her pulse skipped—was it work or play?
    Daniel’s expression remained calm and controlled, giving nothing away. “Can I tempt you?”
    “No.”
    “No?” He was obviously taken aback by the bluntness of her rejection. “Why not?” he asked, but without indignance.
    “Because I’ve already made dinner plans.” She glanced toward the chair where she’d dropped her bundle, just as he glanced at his watch.
    “You have a date?”
    “No. I’m staying in. There’s no way I’m going back out in that rain!” Natural impetuosity had taken over for a minute, leaving Nia’s caution behind. “I’ve got my dinner planned here.”
    “Oh,” he said baldly, not quite understanding. “You’re eating alone?”
    It was the odd and unexpected note of regret in his voice that restored her own composure fully. Her mind on the lobster meat, she grinned. “I had planned to.”
    With a silent nod he looked away, back toward his coat, as though wishing he didn’t have to go back out into the torrent either. In that moment something struck Nia—something strangely akin to a fleeting glimmer of loneliness in Daniel’s mien—and she was touched.
    “You can join me if you’d like,” she burst out on the spur of the moment. Her tone had that same soft, feminine lilt that Bill had commented on the day before. It also held sincerity; she wanted him to stay.
    His dark head turned back cautiously. “You’ve got enough?”
    She smiled freely, already envisioning the meal. “I think I can scrounge something up. But first,” she scowled in mock upset, “I’ve got to change.” Without another word she escaped to her room, closing the door behind her and stripping off her skirt and blouse to climb into jeans, a sweater and moccasins. Despite the discrepancy in their height she felt suddenly stubborn. If Daniel Strahan planned to eat here, he’d do it on her terms. She wore frills and high heels all day long; at night, she deserved a respite.
    Taking a towel to her damp hair, she rubbed it vigorously, then went to work with a brush, coaxing the multiple layers into a semblance of glorious mahogany order. With a final touch of blusher and a dab of pale apple lip gloss, she stood back to survey the end result.
    Her mirror reflected a comely sight. She was slender but shapely, the gentle swell of her breasts creating the feminine effect denied by the slim stretch of her straight-legged jeans. Her hair, at its longest, fell to her shoulders, its soft layering gentling her sculpted features. Of the latter, it was her eyes that dominated, violet, and gay now as they hadn’t been in a very long time.
    For an instant Nia frowned at herself. What was she doing? But, damn it, she had her lonely times, too. Was it wrong to share dinner with a …a…a friend?
    When Nia returned to the living room Daniel was not there. Reaching down for the package of lobster meat, she heard a noise in the kitchen, a noise that instinctively brought crushing and infuriating thoughts to her mind. Fueled by dismay, she ran toward the kitchen, only to find her guest calmly rummaging through the drawer in search of a corkscrew with which to open the bottle of wine he’d removed from the counter rack.
    “Oh!” she gasped in relief, a hand on her chest to