Undercover Sir

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Undercover Sir Page 7

by Carolyn Faulkner


  "I brought the juice because sometimes a headache can be caused by low blood sugar, and you eat like a bird, so I wouldn't be surprised about that. And I brought the water because another common cause of headaches is dehydration." Then he took the seat he favored at the head of the other end of the table.

  "Thank you for bringing me my breakfast, Mr. Martin. But I almost never drink water, and I don't like orange juice."

  Daniel was sitting at the other head of the table, as always, reading the paper, which meant that no one could see him. But they could hear him as he "ahemed" loudly. Then, as if that wasn't enough, he bent one corner of the paper down far enough that he could give Ia a stern look.

  "Douglas went to the trouble of bringing them to you, buttercup. The least you could do is be polite enough to drink them."

  Her eyes narrowed at her brother as her face fixed in a rebellious expression.

  Daniel waited a minute for her to obey him, then he added, almost casually, "Do you fancy sitting at work all day on a sore backside, Anna Maria?"

  "Daniel!" she and Taffy chorused with equal amounts of horror at his impropriety in front of Mr. Martin. Ia's eyes went wide. He didn't know that she didn't sit, but that was of no matter.

  Drawing a deep breath to try to calm herself, Ia took the aspirin, washing them down with the entire glass of water. Then she drank the orange juice before rising to take both of the glasses and her untouched plate of food into the kitchen, from where she grabbed her purse and left through the back door without another word to anyone.

  She didn't care if she beat the entire staff—even the manager, Mr. Franconi—to the bank, which, of course, was locked. She'd sit in her car and read until someone who had a key arrived. Anything was better than being in her brother's company lately.

  After that, Douglas figured he didn't have a shot with her. He didn't upbraid Daniel for what he'd done. It was his house, and he fully supported him running it as he saw fit. But he figured that with that little exchange, any chance he'd had with her had gone right out the window.

  Still, he decided to make the extra effort anyway, just in case.

  Around eleven that morning, before she left for her lunch break, Frank Cousins, the deliveryman from Homegrown Florist, came into the lobby carrying a beautiful vase filled with a dozen gorgeous red roses. The entire staff—which was largely comprised of young, single women, except for management, of course, which was all male—gasped at their arrival, and those who could surrounded him as if he was Elvis or Pat Boone, all hoping his delivery was for them.

  Ia watched him coming in with less interest than everyone else—no one she knew was going to send her flowers—and was utterly amazed when he came to her teller window.

  "Ia Baldwin, these are for you." He didn't even wait for a tip, but left immediately.

  There wasn't anyone in line for a teller, so all of the girls huddled around her excitedly, all talking at once.

  "Who are they from?"

  "I bet it's her brother."

  "Is it your birthday?"

  "What are they for?"

  But she had no idea of the answer to either of those questions. No one had ever sent her flowers, and it was Peggy who plucked the card from them and handed it to her. "This should solve the mystery."

  In a big, bold scrawl, the note said, "I hope these find you feeling better, or that they at least brighten your day, Douglas."

  All of the girls sighed in unison at that, and she rose several notches in status in their eyes that morning. And so did Douglas, whoever he was.

  She spent the day fending off questions, being coy but kind of enjoying the attention.

  Taffy was all over her when she came home with them, of course, just like the girls at work had been.

  "Who sent them? And why?" she nattered at Ia until the younger girl answered her.

  "Douglas, and because I wasn't feeling well this morning. He said he hoped they found me feeling better, or at least that they brightened my day."

  "Oh, wow! Daniel hasn't sent me flowers in forever." Then she asked the question she'd been dying to ask since last night, "Does this mean that you're going to say yes?"

  But Ia gave nothing away. "I don't think it's polite to tell you that when I haven't told him yet."

  "You are so mean!"

  "Thank you. It's always nice to know when I'm accomplishing what I set out to do." She grinned evilly, yelping when Taffy pinched her for her audacity, and then they set to work on dinner.

  When the men came home about a half hour later, Daniel didn't even notice the flowers—or didn't say anything about them, anyway—until Ia walked up to Douglas.

  "Thank you very much for the roses. They're gorgeous."

  She was smiling—not brightly, but he'd take what he could get. "I'm very glad you like them. Are you feeling better?"

  He was the only one of the three of them who had remembered to ask.

  "Yes, thank you, I am." She wandered away from him, back to the kitchen, and Douglas was elated, although he tried to tamp down his expectations. It was a bold gesture, but it might well not have worked in the manner in which he intended it to.

  After dinner, he found himself on the deck by himself. His hosts were in the living room, watching something called The Real McCoys, which he simply couldn't abide.

  He heard the screen door slide open, then close, and figured that Daniel shared his opinion, but he was very pleasantly surprised when it was Ia who took the seat next to him instead, before he noticed her and was able to stand for her.

  "Mr. Martin, I hope I'm not disturbing you," she began.

  "Of course, you're not. And Ia," he very lightly scolded, "how many times must I ask you to call me Douglas?"

  She looked as if she was going to balk at that, but she didn't. "Douglas, I wanted to let you know that I've made my decision regarding your kind offer to take me out tomorrow night."

  He braced himself, certain that she was going to say no.

  "I-I would like to go out with you if you would still like that."

  She was subjected to another one of those dazzling smiles of his. "I most certainly do. Since I don't know the area very well, I shall rely on your judgment as to where we should go. I want to take you to the best restaurant in town."

  "Unfortunately, you've already eaten there," she informed him softly, while looking down at her hands.

  "I have?"

  "The Bella Roma is the closest thing we have to a really nice restaurant in this small town."

  "Well, is there somewhere else you would like to go? We could drive into Knoxville—there must be some very nice restaurants there."

  She bit her lip, and Douglas was enchanted by her hesitance, wondering if she did that when she'd been caught out and found herself facing a punishment. If she looked that cute, he'd have a hard time disciplining her—although he was sure he could get past it and do what needed to be done, for her own good.

  "Yes, but the restaurants in the city are very expensive, Mr.—"

  He leaned over to put an index finger beneath her chin, using it to lift her eyes to his as he gave her a look that was not unlike one she'd received from her brother many, many times. It was more than close enough that she immediately substituted, "Douglas."

  "Cost is of no concern, Ia. Perhaps I'll decide for us, after all."

  Ia shrugged as if she didn't care in the least. "That's fine."

  He rose when she did. "Shall we say, seven, to give us enough time to get home and then into town?"

  She nodded, saying, "All right. Goodnight, Mr.—Douglas."

  He smiled that she had corrected herself, although he certainly was interested in doing that for her himself.

  "Sleep well, Ia."

  It was not ten minutes later, after she'd said her good nights to Daniel and Taffy and had found her own bed, that the screen door opened again. Only, this time, it was exactly the person he thought it was going to be.

  "So? What'd she say?" Daniel asked eagerly
then, apparently, thought better of it. "If you don't mind my asking." He put a drink he'd brought for his friend as well as his own on the table between them.

  "I don't mind in the least. She said yes."

  "That's great! It bet it was the roses that put you over."

  Douglas grimaced. "I'm not sure about that, but it was money well spent if it did. By the way, what's her curfew?"

  "Have her home by midnight, and I'll be happy."

  "Very well."

  They were quiet for a moment.

  "Would you mind if I asked you what might be considered an impertinent question?"

  Daniel laughed. "No, shoot."

  "Shoot?"

  "Ask the question."

  "Oh." He took a deep breath and said, "I know that we've discussed our philosophies about how men should handle the women in their lives before—"

  The younger man got up when he was in mid-sentence to put his finger over his lips, and Douglas stopped talking immediately. Daniel went back into the house for a moment before reappearing. "They're both in their rooms. I just wanted to make sure they were before we discussed that particular topic."

  "Oh, okay. Good idea." He tried to remember where he was in the question. "Oh, yes. So, considering that, it surprises me that you tolerate how your sister behaves toward you."

  Daniel took a good-sized gulp of his drink and sighed, cradling it on his stomach while he spoke. "Yeah. You know, so am I. I just…I don't know. I don't think I have the right to dictate how she feels about being disciplined by me. I'm not going to stop doing it as long as she lives here, which is why she's doing her best to get out of my house. That makes me sad, frankly. I guess I can understand that she resents it, but I definitely don't want to get into some kind of never ending loop of punishing her—not for bad behavior—but for how she feels."

  Douglas nodded. "Hmm, I was thinking, earlier this week, that if she were my sister, I wouldn't have tolerated it."

  "And I understand your point of view, too. But, firstly, her behavior is cold but not disrespectful. There's a big difference there, to me. If she was screaming and cussing me out, that would be a very different thing. But she's not. If she wants to give me the cold shoulder or doesn't want to hug me or be close to me, she doesn't have to, although I really hate it. We used to be very tight, until the first time I spanked her after she graduated from college, which I think she saw as some kind of natural cutoff for being disciplined that I didn't. Perhaps I played that wrongly, and I should have told her to expect that if she was going to come home to live after college, but I honestly didn't think of it." He took a big gulp of his drink. "But I miss her a lot."

  Douglas thought that was quite an admission for him to make. He obviously loved—and liked—his sister a lot, and the distance between them, which only seemed to be growing lately, was hurting him.

  "And secondly, she already resents me because of the discipline. I don't really want to give her more reasons to do so."

  Again, Douglas nodded. "Good points."

  Grinning, Daniel commented, "I do have them occasionally."

  "More than occasionally, mate."

  They were quiet for a moment.

  "So, where're you going to take her, do you know?"

  "I don't know—I was going to ask you for a suggestion. She's worried about the cost of a good restaurant in the city."

  His friend smiled. "Well, I haven't told her anything about you, and my sister may be many things—and she's definitely been spoiled, by our parents and by me, frankly—but she's not a spendthrift."

  "That's nice to know. What else can you tell me about her?"

  He stretched his legs out and crossed them at the ankles. "Well, where would be the fun in doing that?" he teased, taking a swallow of his drink. "Let's just say I'm glad I know you well enough that, if you two should end up together, I won't have to worry that she's not being…taken care of in the manner she requires."

  "That was very diplomatic, especially for an American."

  "It was, wasn't it?"

  Chapter 6

  Friday night came much too quickly for Ia's peace of mind She didn't think she'd ever been so nervous in her life—so much so that, for the first time since she was hired by the bank, her drawer was out of balance at the end of the day, enough so that she got written up for it.

  Now, more than any other time in her life, she wished she'd gone out with someone—anyone—so that she'd had some experience to draw on.

  And Taffy was no help. She was too busy being amazed at her self-possessed sister-in-law falling to pieces over her first date.

  "Whatever you do, don't let him know that!"

  "Do you really think I'm that much of an idiot?"

  "Well…" Taffy teased as she put the finishing touches on Ia's hair while she was sitting at her vanity, then handed her a mirror.

  As she looked it over, the younger woman whined, "I really hate that you can do this. I can barely get it to behave, and you can make it look like I'm stepping out of some French salon or something."

  Taffy blushed at the praise. "I've always been a frustrated hairdresser."

  Ia stepped into her high-heeled shoes, thankful that at least she wouldn't have to worry about towering over him in them. He was going to do that to her, even though she was wearing four-inch heels.

  He wasn't built like her brother—although he was reasonably tall—maybe a bit more than six feet. She thought, although she didn't know how good a judge she was of that kind of thing, but he still made her feel small, and she liked that about him. He was wiry and lean, and she wondered errantly how strong he was, chiding herself for doing so as soon as the intriguing thought wound through her mind, tickling her curiosity.

  "Well, are you coming?" Taffy asked as she stood at the door.

  Ia gave her a forlorn look. "Do you think I could beg off this late?"

  "No, I do not," her friend said, sounding very resolute. "Besides, you don't want to anyway, even though you think you do. Because, you know…Daniel." She felt a bit guilty about making Ia think that Daniel's business might be in peril if she didn't go on this date, but it was only a casual comment. No, it would be a good thing for her to go out with Douglas. Dip her toe in the dating pool a little, finally. Maybe she'd find a suitor nearby once he'd left.

  She really just wanted to see the younger woman as happily married as she was.

  "And you're going to have a good time," Taffy said reassuringly as she handed the girl her wrap while letting her exit her room first.

  Ia practically rattled her way down the hallway, she was so nervous and shaky. As a matter of fact, she got to the end of the hall, with the men standing together waiting for them not fifteen feet away, and she couldn't convince herself to go any further.

  Luckily, Douglas came toward her with a small, wrapped package—the perfect way to distract her from a case of nerves that were so bad that she thought she was going to throw up.

  "You didn't have to get me anything, M—Douglas."

  He gave her a positively beatific look. "I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to."

  She opened it the way she'd always opened every present—entirely without regard to the condition of the paper, while Taffy stood behind her sighing every once in a while, about the fact that she didn't try to save the paper.

  "Oh my word! It's a first edition of Jane Eyre." Ia actually clasped it to her chest. She'd never been given anything she would prize more in her life. "Oh, but, Douglas, this had to be very expensive! You shouldn't have spent so much money on me!"

  Douglas claimed her hands and caught her eyes. "I believe that I should be the judge of how much money I spend on you, Ia." It was wonderful to see her genuine happiness at the gift, and he loved the fact that she was looking him in the eye for once. Her innocent, open gaze on him was more intoxicating than he'd thought it would be—than any bold, brazen look he'd ever received from any woman. He took both of her hands in his. "I've seen you reading a dog-eared copy occ
asionally around the house, and I wanted you to have a nicer copy."

  "Nicer? I'll have to put this in a safe deposit box or under glass or something!"

  "No," he said quietly but firmly, and her eyes darted to his again, revealing that she was feeling more than a bit nervous, when they had been admiring the book. "It's meant to be read, and you must do so at least once."

  That got him a barely-there smile and her surprisingly easy acquiescence. "All right."

  Taffy produced Ia's coat, which he helped her into, then he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow, and they went out to the car with Daniel and Taffy calling after them to have a good time.

  Daniel was a sport and had given him the keys to his car, and once he got her settled, he got behind the wheel.

  "Do you—" Ia started, then she silenced herself.

  "What, love?"

  She started at that. He'd called her "love"! What does him calling me that mean, exactly? she wondered.

  "Nothing."

  Douglas turned to her with the car running to warm up for her, reaching to turn her face to his. "No, Ia. Unless you want to give your brother and sister-in-law something to really talk about this evening, you'll answer my question, and you won't say 'nothing' when it was actually 'something' again."

  The breath caught in her throat at how similar his tone was to Daniel's when he was scolding her about something or laying down the law. And that made her wonder if he would use the same methods as her brother would to get her to behave in the manner that he preferred.

  "I was just wondering if you knew how to drive on this side of the road."

  He let her go, saying, "I've spent quite a bit of time in the States, so, yes, I do." As if to prove it, he got them onto I 40 with no help from her, pointing them toward Knoxville. "You're safe with me, I promise." Douglas wanted to take hold of her hand, but he thought it might be a bit early in the evening for that. She struck him as not only deliciously virginal, but also, to his great surprise, utterly pristine.

 

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