by Sarah Morgan
“The vet wants to keep him until tomorrow, just to be sure.” She sounded flustered. “I’ll go back to my apartment.”
He didn’t bother suggesting that she stay because he knew she wouldn’t. And he assumed that, like him, she had work to do. He realized he knew very little about what she actually did. All he knew was that she was a psychologist, but presumably she had places she needed to be, or at least access to her email.
“In that case I’ll see you at yours around eight. Don’t cook. I’ll pick something up on my way over.” He saw her expression change as she registered his words.
“Daniel—”
“What? We were supposed to have dinner last night, but circumstances overtook us. So we’ll do it tonight instead. I’d take you out, but I think for our first date it might be best if we make it more private. That way you can tell me all the reasons you think what we’re going to do is a bad idea, and I can put the opposing point of view.”
“What we’re going to do?” Her tongue sneaked out and moistened her lips. “Last night I told you—”
“I know what you told me, Molly.” He cut her off. “And I can tell you that there is no chance of you breaking my heart. Zero. How do I know that? Because I’ve been told a million times that I don’t have a heart. Not only does that make me safe from your bad-girl tendencies, it also makes me your perfect date.”
“I don’t date.”
“Because you’re afraid of hurting someone, but you’re not going to hurt me. And now I need to go because a woman who does have a heart and whose husband cheated on her and is now trying to make her life hell needs me to be a dragon in court.”
“I thought you tried to avoid court.”
“‘He will win who knows when to fight and when not to fight.’”
“More Sun Tzu?”
He flashed her a smile. “There’s coffee in the pot downstairs. Close the door behind you when you leave. I need to go and breathe fire.”
* * *
Dear Aggie, I’ve just come out of a bad relationship and I can’t imagine ever wanting to get involved with anyone again. How can I learn to trust? Yours, Wounded.
Molly stared at the screen.
Dear Wounded, I don’t have a clue.
She had no answer. No advice. No comment.
Her mind was blank. Now that she knew Valentine was going to make a full recovery, all she could think of was Daniel.
Daniel, carrying Valentine to the cab. Daniel, staying by her side at the animal hospital. Daniel, lending her clothes and making her food. Distracting her.
Daniel telling her she’d never hurt him because he didn’t have a heart.
Would he really come by after work? No. He’d probably spend the day in court defending some woman emerging from the ruins of a wrecked relationship and decide he didn’t want to put himself through that.
She thought about him in court, fighting a battle for a woman who couldn’t fight her own.
She stared at the screen again, trying to focus.
She’d arrived back expecting the apartment to be the way she had left it, but it was pristine. She was sure she had Mark and Gabe to thank for that and felt a flash of gratitude.
The first thing she’d done was change into her own jeans and a fresh shirt. Then she’d sat down at her laptop.
There was plenty of work waiting for her, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was her attention span.
She needed to stop thinking about Valentine, and most of all she needed to stop thinking about Daniel and what was going to happen later.
She stood up and walked to her bookshelf. Right in front of her was a copy of Mate for Life. She pulled it off the shelf and turned it over. She’d written it in a white heat of passion, pouring everything she knew onto the page. Everything she had ever learned about watching people in relationships.
Looking at it now, she couldn’t remember how she’d done it.
She felt like an impostor.
What did she know about relationships?
Everything she knew she’d learned from books. From studying. It was all theory. None of it was from experience.
Even though three years had passed, Rupert’s voice still rang in her head.
There’s something wrong with you.
Was he right? She was starting to think that maybe he was. Even though he’d said those hurtful words because she’d hurt him badly, so badly she’d been careful not to become involved with anyone since, even she could recognize that there was a truth to them. Rupert was a good man and the breakup had been brutal, not just professionally but personally. It had been hard to look at herself in the mirror every morning. She’d hated herself, and what she’d done to him. And part of her believed that if she couldn’t love Rupert, who was charming, smart, entertaining and had women falling over themselves to gain his attention, then she wasn’t going to be able to fall in love with anyone, was she? She’d decided right there and then that she needed to stop trying and just accept the way she was. Maybe her problems originated in her childhood, maybe they didn’t, but nothing changed the facts. No matter how hard she tried, she wasn’t capable of falling in love.
She’d given herself a fresh start, but part of that fresh start had included the decision not to put herself in that position ever again.
She could have an active, and interesting, social life without becoming involved with a man.
That resolve had never been challenged. Until now.
She put the book down and made herself coffee. Without Valentine the apartment felt smaller. Empty. As if an important piece was missing.
She was about to settle down to her laptop again when there was a tap on her door.
It was Mark, carrying a huge bunch of flowers. “How’s Valentine? Gabe and I were worried sick when we got your text.”
“Better. Coming home tomorrow all being well. Come in.” Any excuse not to work.
“These are for you. Gabe sends his love.” Mark handed her the flowers, a bunch of gerberas.
Staring into their sun-like faces made her smile. “Thank you. It’s impossible to feel down when you have gerberas.” And friends. “Thank you for checking on the apartment last night. I left in a panic and I wasn’t even sure I locked it. And you cleaned up. You’re a friend in a million.”
“You look terrible. Sit down. I’ll put these in water.” He took the flowers back and walked to the kitchen area. “Have you been working?”
“I thought I’d catch up a little, but I’m having trouble concentrating.”
“And that surprises you?”
“I don’t usually have trouble focusing.”
“You have something major going on in your life. Something else filling your head.”
“The vet says he’s going to be fine. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t be focused.”
Mark found a vase and filled it with water. “Unless maybe what’s filling your head isn’t Valentine.”
She felt the color in her face give her away. “Meaning?”
“You stayed the night with him.”
“Daniel? Yes, but only because his place was nearer. Nothing happened. He didn’t even kiss me.” But he’d looked at her, and she’d known that if her reasons for being there had been different he would have done more than kiss her. But of course if it hadn’t been for Valentine she wouldn’t have been there at all, which made her reasoning warped. “I told him I’m bad news. That he should stay away from me.”
“And what was his response? He thanked you politely for warning him and agreed to take his interest elsewhere?”
“No.” Molly discovered she was desperate to talk to someone. “He said he’d be round with dinner tonight.”
“I’m starting to like the guy.”
So was she. That was the problem.
“That’s the other thing I haven’t told you. Did you know Fliss and Harry have a brother?”
“Yes, although I’ve never met him. Superstar attorney. The sort of guy you’d want
on your side if your relationship was falling apart.”
“Yeah, well that’s him. Daniel. Daniel is their brother.”
“Wait a minute, you’re telling me that your Daniel is their Daniel?” Mark dragged his hand through his hair. “Dog-loving fit guy from the park is the twins’ brother?”
“Turns out he’s not dog-loving. He borrowed the dog to get my attention.”
Mark sat down at the table. “I’m starting to understand why you can’t concentrate. That’s—”
“Dishonest?”
“I was going to say flattering.”
“It’s flattering to have someone prepared to kidnap and deceive for you? What am I missing?”
“Did he tell you it was his dog?”
“No. But when someone has a dog it’s natural to assume it’s theirs.”
“Not in New York City. In New York City half the people in Central Park are walking dogs belonging to someone else.”
“But he borrowed the dog to make him seem like a dog-loving person. What kind of guy does that?” She frowned, thinking back to how he was with Brutus. “In fact he might be a dog-loving person, but I don’t think he discovered that until recently.”
“From what I know about him, the guy doesn’t have to try too hard to get a woman’s attention. The fact that he was willing to go to those lengths to attract yours, means something.”
“It means he thinks my butt looks good in running pants.”
Mark grinned. “Or maybe he’s fallen for Valentine. So did he kidnap this dog?”
“No. Fliss and Harriet lent it to him, and I still haven’t really had time to process that part.”
“He didn’t know the dog at all?”
“He did. He was the one who rescued it from a nasty divorce case. They dumped the dog and—” She caught Mark’s eye. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what? I was thinking he’s obviously cruel and heartless.”
“I need sympathy, not sarcasm. And I didn’t say he was heartless, exactly. Just that he pretended to own a dog.”
“Did the dog object? Did they ignore each other?”
Molly thought about the way Brutus had almost tugged her hand off to get to Daniel when she’d taken him to the office. “No. They were great together. Will you stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m crazy for caring that he borrowed a dog. That is not a normal thing to do.”
“This is New York City. There is no normal, that’s why I love it. Do you know what I think? I think you’re looking for reasons to push the guy away.”
“You’re right. That’s exactly what I’m doing, but right now he doesn’t seem to be listening. When I told him I always end relationships, he smiled. He said he’s my perfect date.”
“Maybe he is. I like the guy more and more. Sounds like he knocked down every objection you had.”
“That’s because he’s a lawyer! It’s his job. I’m not going to do this, Mark. No matter how sexy he is, how charming and persistent, I’m not going to do this. When I go into a relationship, people get hurt. It’s like putting a combine harvester in a field of crops and not expecting them to be chopped down.”
Mark eyed her. “Even after a sleepless night you don’t look anything like a combine harvester. And he doesn’t seem to think there’s the slightest chance he’ll be hurt.”
“That’s true, but I don’t want to take that chance.” She thought about Rupert. “I’ve broken someone’s heart on a global scale. Not a little crack. Not a dent. A big, massive shattering. In public. Not going to happen again.”
The memory made her chest tighten and she felt Mark’s hands close over her shoulders.
“I understand that what happened with Rupert freaked you out, but Daniel sounds like a guy who knows himself pretty well. What if he’s telling the truth?”
“I’m sure he is, but feelings aren’t that easy to control.”
“You have no trouble controlling yours. What if he is exactly like you? Think of what an incredible relationship you could have.”
Molly stared at him. Right now she couldn’t think at all. “I—”
“When did you last have fun, Molly? I don’t mean fun on your own, I mean fun with a sexy guy. When did you last have sex without worrying about the emotional side of it, when did you last date without worrying that the guy was going to fall in love and you weren’t?”
“It’s been a while.”
“So think about it. All the fun, none of the fallout.” Mark stood up, pulled her against him and kissed her cheek. “Get back to work.”
“I can’t. Today I’m Molly, and Molly doesn’t know anything about relationships.”
“Then she should ask Aggie. She knows a hell of a lot.”
Molly watched as Mark walked to the door. “He probably won’t turn up anyway. He’ll think better of it.”
Mark turned. “Let’s wait and see, shall we? He sounds to me like a man who knows exactly what he wants out of life. Promise me one thing—”
“What?”
“If he shows up, you’ll open that door.”
* * *
Daniel pressed the buzzer, wondering if she’d let him in.
He’d spent the day untangling messy, painful relationships and the thought of spending his evening with a woman who didn’t want emotional attachment was the equivalent of a cold beer on a hot day. Molly was fun, sexy and smart. He liked her. The fact that she wasn’t going to fall in love with him was music to his ears. Bring it on.
She opened the door almost immediately. She was wearing jeans, but they were her own jeans this time, and her top was blue, not pink. She looked cute. And fierce. Adorable. Heartbreaker. Hot.
Insanely hot.
It wasn’t a stretch to understand why guys fell hopelessly in love with her.
“Maybe you should hang a sign on your door,” he suggested. “Beware of the Woman. That would keep the wimps and losers at bay and ensure you’re only bothered by serious bad boys who would rather lose money at poker than waste it on a ring. That’s me, by the way.” He was rewarded by a slight smile and then she noticed the bottle in his hand.
“Champagne? Are we celebrating something I should know about?”
“Valentine’s recovery, judges who see sense and our first date.”
“You had a good day in court.”
“I had a long, but good day in court. And my reward is tonight.” He slid his hand behind her head and kissed her briefly. “You’re not falling in love with me, are you? No? Good. Just checking.” He took advantage of her stunned silence to walk past her into the apartment. “Where will I find glasses?”
She closed the door, but stayed holding the handle as if she hadn’t made up her mind about something. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating with your colleagues?”
“I’m celebrating with you. I ordered pizza.” He’d intentionally kept it casual. No one could be threatened by a large pepperoni pizza.
“Pizza?”
“When we’re in the mood for fine dining I’ll take you to a restaurant that will make you wonder if you’ve ever truly tasted food before, but tonight we’re eating pizza.” He removed his jacket and slung it over the nearest chair, figuring that the more he made himself at home, the less easy it would be for her to throw him out.
Her apartment was small, but she’d used the space well. A book lay open on the window seat, and the desk in the corner of the room was stacked with papers and notes. The New York sunset sent shafts of golden light shimmering across the hardwood floors. There was a door that he assumed led to her bedroom, and another that presumably was a bathroom. A pair of shoes lay discarded in the corner of the room as if she’d kicked them off while thinking about something else.
She’d stamped her identity on every corner of the place. Everything about her life shrieked that she didn’t need anything, or anyone.
He intended to show her there were still some things she needed.
“I like your apartment.” The place smelled familiar, and it was only after he’d breathed in the citrus, floral scent that made his head spin that he realized the reason the scent was familiar was because it was hers.
It took him right back to that kiss in the park, when he’d been engulfed by it. By her.
“You own a penthouse on Fifth Avenue.”
“So? I like what you’ve done with the place. You’ve made the most of the light.” He popped the cork on the champagne and poured it into the glasses she produced, wondering what it was going to take to get her to relax with him. All he saw in her eyes was mistrust. He noticed the laptop open on the little desk and a pair of glasses next to it. “Bad day?”
“Unproductive.”
“Finding it hard to concentrate?”
“Something like that.”
Interesting, he thought, and decided to probe a little more. “Thinking about Valentine?”
She paused a beat too long. “Yes.”
He felt a flash of satisfaction. He was willing to bet she hadn’t only been thinking of Valentine. She’d been thinking about him. He’d got her off balance, which was exactly where he wanted her. She thought she knew him, and he intended to prove to her that she didn’t.
“What exactly were you doing? Tell me more about your work. Do you consult?”
“Among other things.” She hedged and he wondered if her reluctance to talk about her job stemmed from more than a dedication to client confidentiality.
In his job he’d developed a sense for when people were hiding things, and he was sure Molly was hiding a lot.
“Molly.” He kept his voice gentle. “Why don’t you just tell me what’s on your mind, and then we can do away with the simmering atmosphere where I’m trying to guess what you’re thinking? Not only am I a guy, which means I’m not good at mind reading, but I’ve had a long day.”
“I didn’t think you’d come tonight. Maybe you weren’t listening to me.”
“I was listening. I heard every word you said, including the part where you told me I absolutely don’t want to get involved with you.” He put the champagne down on the table. “I’ve got it. Loud and clear.”
“And yet still you’re here. With champagne. And pizza.”