Surrogate Dad

by Marion Smith Collins

  But he wasn’t getting off scot-free. He was too alert to the smooth and graceful movements of her hands, making him wonder precisely how clever those hands were. His gaze fixed on the clean, straight line of her spine, her long legs, her sweetly rounded bottom.

  You lecherous fraud, he derided himself. So she’s not your type, huh?

  “Would you like a glass of wine?”

  The beautiful honey-smooth voice intruded upon his fixation. “Hm-m-m?” he responded.

  She had turned. The emerald eyes were looking at him, a puzzled expression in their depths. “I’m afraid wine is all I have.” She raised her hand to look at a dab of the egg filling, clinging to her thumb. Her pink tongue darted out, and he felt the force of an electric shock.

  Good God, she had an erotic way about her. And the odd thing was, she seemed totally unaware of her effect. He cleared his throat. “Wine sounds good. May I pour a glass for you?”

  “Yes, please.” She returned to her task.

  While he found the glasses and poured the drinks, Alexandra finished the eggs, put them into the refrigerator and washed her hands. He handed her the glass and lifted his own in a silent toast. At the same time, he vowed to himself that he would not conjure up impossible fantasies about this woman.

  Alexandra realized that sitting down or standing up, Luke took up too much space in her compact kitchen. “Let’s go into the other room and enjoy our wine for a moment before I put the food out.”

  He followed her into the living room.

  “Please, sit there on the sofa.” She took a chair at right angles to him. The sun touched a corner of the glass-topped coffee table, reflecting into her eyes. She blinked against the glare and shifted her chair. “I enjoy daylight saving time, don’t you?” she said.

  He nodded, seeming to take her shallow comment seriously. He stretched his arm along the back of the sofa. “Yes. I like getting home from work before it gets dark outside.”

  She was unable to take her eyes off that long arm. His fingers were unusually long. Strong, capable, that was how his hand looked. Dark hair and a slim gold watch peeped out from beneath his cuff. She took a deep sip of wine to moisten her dry throat. “On the other hand, if the sun went down earlier, it might cool off enough for us to sit on the terrace. We don’t get to use it much except in the spring or fall.” Lord, she sounded like a ninny. Thank goodness he didn’t bother to answer that one.

  She groped for another topic. What on earth was wrong with her? She rarely felt awkward in any environment, much less her own home.

  She wished that West had been available. She’d known him longer and she felt several degrees more comfortable with him.

  What had happened to David? He’d disappeared as soon as Luke had arrived. She was definitely irked. This invitation was his idea in the first place. His leaving them alone like this was a bit obvious. She would have to speak to him.

  At last, with some determination, she put on her best hostess face. “Tell me more about the races at Road Atlanta. David is so excited about your offering us tickets.”

  Luke smiled down into his wine, then took a swallow. When he raised his eyes to hers, she felt a sudden shock to her system. The horn-rimmed frames usually shadowed his expression, but from this angle the light from the window illuminated the piercing gray gaze completely.

  His gaze held amusement, besides the intelligence, the cunning, the keen perception. She felt sorry for any witnesses being cross-examined by Luke Quinlan. When he began to speak, she had to force herself to focus on the words.

  “For one thing, it won’t be like watching the Indy 500 on Memorial Day. Vintage racers are primarily hobbyists and we treat our cars like babies. If they’re damaged or destroyed, they can never be replaced. Most of us only take them out of storage a few times a year.”

  “I see.” There was another gap in the conversation. His long legs were stretched out, crossed at the ankles, his feet only inches from hers. She had never seen him relaxed like this. The loosening of that controlled rigidity she associated with him added remarkably to his appeal. She looked away.

  “How did you become interested in them?” Her voice sounded flimsy to her own ears.

  “When I was a kid, a friend of my mother’s owned a garage. He taught me to tinker. Then when I was in the navy, I had a friend who raced.”

  “You’re from West Virginia, aren’t you? What part?”

  Before Luke could do more than nod, the doorbell rang again. Thankful for the distraction, Alexandra excused herself. She reached the door at the same time David decided to put in an appearance. He opened it.

  West Chadwick stood there, a bottle of wine in his hand. “Hi, Alexandra, David. I stopped by to see if you’ve recovered from yesterday’s ordeal.”

  His gaze went past her and his eyes narrowed. She knew what he saw. Luke was plainly visible from the front door, lounging on the sofa as though he’d been planted there. West’s handsome face was noncommittal.

  “Come in, West,” Alexandra said. “David looked for you earlier to invite you to supper. If you don’t have plans, you’re welcome to join us.”

  “You’re sure it won’t be any trouble?” He was already moving past her. David followed.

  “Not a bit of trouble.” She was left holding the door and watching their backs.

  The invitation had been a major mistake, she acknowledged an hour later as she went to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.

  The two men had circled each other like wary tigers all evening. She was astonished at the extent of the discord between them.

  They worked together every day, and since West had been the one to tell Luke about the availability of the condo, she had assumed they were friends. It soon became obvious that her assumption was totally wrong.

  The opening maneuver in their conversational competition had been ambiguous, apparently concerning some work they were doing for a fractious client. They had seemed mostly in accord on that one.

  But then weekend reading had been mentioned in relation to the client.

  “I didn’t think I would see you until Monday. Didn’t you say you had a lot of research to do?” West inquired in a biting tone.

  “I said we have research to do. The reading material will be ready tomorrow morning,” Luke responded easily. “I’m picking it up at the office. I’m sorry, but I am afraid it’s going to put a dent in your social agenda for the rest of the weekend.”

  The evening went downhill from there. Alexandra had no idea what they were talking about, but she had an idea some of their taunting comments centered on her. She grew irritated with the sniping remarks they made to each other, as well.

  David quickly became Luke’s champion—as though Luke needed one—agreeing with everything he said even when he didn’t understand.

  As a result, Alexandra felt that she had to be conciliatory toward West. And West loved that—he kept looking over at Luke with a smug, canarylike smile. Luke responded with a frown as black as night.

  Toward her, they were both overly solicitous. She liked that even less. West held her chair when she sat down at the table.

  “May I pour you some wine, Alexandra?” Luke asked as soon as her glass was empty.

  “I’ll be glad to help with the dishes,” offered West when they’d finished eating.

  She wanted to scream. This is ridiculous. You two are not dogs and I am not a bone.

  A mistake, she repeated to herself as she gave the key in the new dead-bolt lock a vicious twist. The invitation had been a big blunder, one she would never make again. She dropped her keys into her purse and headed for her bedroom. She needed an early night.

  After the robbery last night, the cleaning job she’d had to do today and the frustrating conversation with the insurance company, she had to top it off by playing hostess to Siskel and Ebert.

  The telephone rang. She put a knee on the bed and leaned across to snatch up the receiver. “Hello?” she answered.

  She was met with
nothing but dead air. She slammed down the receiver, muttered a curse aimed at rude people who got a wrong number and hung up without apologizing. She started to strip off her clothes and the phone rang again. “Hello...? Hello!”

  There was no answer, but this time the air was not dead. A living, breathing presence was on the line. It whispered corruption, which sinuously wound through the twists and turns of technological connections to reach her ears.

  Alexandra slammed down the receiver again. She hoped she never had to listen to such malice again.

  * * *

  Luke decided it was the most uncomfortable evening he’d spent in years. He hadn’t deliberately set out to wangle a dinner invitation, but he’d had no reservations about accepting when one was offered.

  Then Chadwick had walked through the door, believing that Luke was intentionally trying to cut him out and reacting like an arrogant buck whose favorite doe had just gone to the water hole with a deer from another herd.

  Luke usually replied to verbal jabs with restraint; his control in tense situations was one of his strengths as a lawyer. But he had grown so accustomed to their rivalry at the office that he responded accordingly.

  And when Chadwick had started his not-very-subtle pursuit of Alexandra, Luke had suddenly been reminded of the other lawyer’s rather careless reputation with women. He’d reacted with uncharacteristic heat at the thought of Alexandra’s becoming Chadwick’s next victim.

  As the evening had worn on, he could feel her tension building. Her dismay, and her frequent glances toward David, had brought out Luke’s protective instincts, making him more aggravated with Chadwick than he ever was at the office.

  He wasn’t proud of the way he had acted. His usual solution to clashes like this was to pull back, to try to get an objective handle on things. For some reason, however, last night he couldn’t seem to establish one iota of objectivity.

  But when he had realized that sides were being chosen, and David was ending up on his side, against his mother, he was appalled. He got out of there as quickly as he could.

  Chadwick left, too, both of them having finally gotten the message that they weren’t pleasant company. Alexandra hadn’t bothered to hide her relief as she showed them the door. She probably didn’t want to see either of them for a long time.

  Luke told himself that suited him fine. He wouldn’t be the cause of conflict between mother and son. And she really wasn’t his type.

  * * *

  Luke had made arrangements to meet his builder at the house site the next morning. He wanted a quick walk-through before he went to the office. As he headed for his car, he saw the teenager riding his bicycle in the parking area in front of the condos.

  He swallowed a groan when he remembered his invitation to the boy, but he reconciled himself to fulfilling the promise. After today, however, he told himself, that would be the end of it. He would steer clear of the boy and his mother.

  “Morning, David. Did you ask for permission to go to the house with me?”

  “Yes, sir,” answered the boy. He took a half turn around the lot and ended up beside Luke’s car. He brought the bike to a halt and rested his forearms across the handlebars. “Mom didn’t think it was such a good idea. She said I might get in your way.”

  Luke looked at David’s downcast features for a minute. He should have asked her himself, rather than leave it to the boy. Hell, he owed her an apology, anyway. “Wait here. I’ll see if I can change her mind.”

  The ringing bell sounded hollow through the thickness of the door. He looked back at the teenager who stood beside his bike, watching hopefully but trying not to show he was watching.

  At last she answered. She was dressed for town in a tailored linen dress and flats. Her hair was slicked away from her face—no appealing tendrils this morning. She was not smiling.

  “Good morning, Alexandra,” he said quietly.

  “Good morning.”

  “I hope you’ll change your mind and let David go with me to the house.” She hesitated and he added, “He won’t be in my way, and I have to be at the office later. I’ll have him back in about an hour.”

  “I don’t suppose he told you that we have plans to shop for school clothes today.”

  Luke’s mouth twitched. “No, he didn’t mention shopping. He said you thought he’d be in my way. I wouldn’t have asked him to go if that were the case,” he told her.

  “Did you ask or did he invite himself?”

  Luke leaned his elbow against the doorjamb and worried his jaw with his knuckles, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “Well, technically, I asked.”

  Alexandra looked past Luke’s shoulder to the parking area and sighed. “I suppose he’ll complain all morning if I drag him to the mall.” A good mother would probably use this opportunity to reinforce a sense of responsibility. But this morning she was too exhausted to enforce anything. She had not slept well last night. “All right,” she said, giving in. She started to turn away.

  “I have an idea,” he said. Almost reluctantly, she thought.

  She crossed her arms and leaned against the other side of the door. “I’m afraid to ask,” she said with a wry expression.

  “Why don’t you follow us in your car? I’d like you to see the house, too. Then you can take David shopping and I can head downtown directly from there.”

  Alexandra realized with some amazement that she wanted to go. “Do you work every Saturday?” she asked in order to gain a bit of thinking time.

  “Just about.” He smiled ruefully. “So, how about it?”

  She hesitated for only a moment more, then she said, “Let me get my purse and keys.”

  * * *

  Alexandra had left Luke talking to the builder while she explored. The house was almost complete, and she was impressed.

  She was standing at the edge of a wide redwood deck, cantilevered over a slope leading down to the river. The wood was raw right now, but she could picture the weathered gray patina it would have in a year or so. A hot tub had been installed on one end of the deck, shielded by a latticed screen of the same wood.

  Behind her, the soaring walls of glass and rock and cedar were spectacular. The house was shaped like open arms, just large enough to be impressive, but not so large that it lost any warmth. Minutes from the interstate highway, the quiet, bucolic setting, among pine and oak and dogwood trees, was remarkable. Every room overlooked water, or would when the pool on the other side of the house was filled.

  “How do you like it?”

  She hadn’t heard him approach, but he was standing right beside her. She smiled. “It’s a wonderful house. Did you have an architect?”

  “Yes, but I’m afraid I was pretty adamant about what I wanted. I’ve been dreaming of this for a long time.” He looked around with obvious satisfaction. “I was lucky to find someone who could translate my dream and a good builder to make it real.”

  “When will it be finished?”

  “A month to six weeks, they tell me.”

  She looked around, realizing suddenly that the man Luke had come to meet was gone. “Are you through here?” she asked.

  “Yes.” When she would have moved to leave, he stopped her with a word. “Wait.”

  He was clearly uncomfortable and she was afraid she knew what was coming. She was right.

  “Alexandra, I hope you’ll accept my apology for last night,” he said formally.

  Her shapely chin came up at the disagreeable memory his apology evoked. “It was—a peculiar evening. I thought you and West were friends or I never would have invited you together.” And won’t again, she added silently as she tightened her lips.

  Luke saw the strain around Alexandra’s pretty mouth and wished he could read her mind. He propped one hip on the heavy railing, so he could look directly at her elegant profile. Though she was tall, only a few inches short of his six feet, her bone structure was delicate and feminine. The breeze off the river tugged at a strand of her hair, trying vali
antly to loosen it from its tight coil.

  “I’m not sure how to explain our association. West and I started with the firm on the same day. We work together amiably on some things but I’m afraid we’re deadly rivals on others.” She glanced at him and he smiled to diminish the sting of his statement. “You just happened to catch us on a bad day.”

  “Funny, I got the impression that your disagreement had something to do with me.” Her eyebrows lifted in query, then she returned her attention to the swiftly flowing water below.

  “Your instincts are good,” he answered, choosing his words carefully. “We had been talking earlier about the effect the break-in had on you. I guess we were both feeling protective.”

  She turned to face him, her lovely green eyes sincere and beguiling. “I didn’t like having my child caught in the middle of your disagreement.”

  The breeze finally had its way; the strand of hair came loose and whipped across her mouth. She brushed at it.

  “I didn’t like that, either. Again, I apologize.”

  “David doesn’t particularly care for West, and he seems to think you’re a cross between Geronimo and Gandhi. Nevertheless, I won’t have him behaving rudely.”

  “I understand.” He finally succumbed to temptation. He separated the strand from her moist lips and tucked it behind her ear.

  The contact of his fingers with her cheek froze them both into place. For an eternal interval, neither of them spoke; neither of them breathed.

  “Mom! Luke! Where are you?”

  The spell was broken. Maybe it never happened. “Here,” called Alexandra. “On the deck.”

  “Isn’t this a terrific house?” David enthused. “Luke, I found a perfect place for your basketball goal. Come on. I’ll show you.”

  “Great,” Luke said.

  “Then we have to go,” added Alexandra.

  The two adults walked quickly after David, through the house to the driveway, where both cars were parked. The site for the goalpost was pointed out and approved.

  With a feeling that she had just escaped a nameless danger, Alexandra climbed into her station wagon and fastened her seat belt. She and David left for the mall.