The giant pil ars of the light sculpture at the entrance to LAX were glowing magenta when Cil a drove past them into the vast U of the airport. She grinned at Trish. "I hope you hadn't spent a lot of time getting your hair just so. I should have put the top up."
"Yeah, but it was worth it." Trish giggled.
"Nothing like the prospect of great sex to make a woman hol er."
"Speaking of great sex, what's going on with Rand?"
"Rand?" Cil a whipped into the parking garage. "Rand is fabulous." Like a shark on the hunt, she began patrol ing for an empty slot. "I just love being around him, you know? We have the best time, and the sex is—aha!" she crowed, whipping into an empty space just off of the elevators.
"And the sex is?" Trish prompted.
Cil a switched off her car. "Amazing."
"So are you seeing him this weekend?" Trish pul ed out the bags.
Cil a laughed. "Sort of. I guess I'm meeting his family."
"Whoa." Trish stopped and stared at her. "This got serious in a hurry."
"It's not serious." Cil a flipped her hand in dismissal. "It's just fun."
"Yeah, right. He's taking you to meet his parents?"
"Yeah, but it's not like a meet-the-parents dinner or anything," she insisted. "We're just going to be down there and they'l be where we're going."
Trish snorted. "Cil a, even as little as I've dated, I know there's no such thing as a non-meet-the-parents meet the parents."
Sudden nerves danced in Cil a's stomach. "Trish, we've only just started seeing each other."
"Not at al ," Trish countered. "You were at the desert hot springs weeks ago."
"That didn't count. Good times, though," she said thoughtful y. "Look, he was supposed to spend the day tomorrow with his brother and we didn't want to be apart."
"Dog years?" Trish asked in amusement.
Cil a grinned. "Exactly. Anyway, I'm going."
"Wel , no matter what you say, the same rules hold. Wear a skirt and pearls," Trish advised, humor in her eyes. "My sister would tel you image is everything." They began walking toward the elevators.
"Um, I don't think so."
"Okay, granted I think Amber is ful of it most of the time, but in this particular case, I think she's right. You never get another chance to make a first impression." They stopped in front of the brushed aluminum doors.
"Trust me, pearls and a skirt won't do it."
"Where are you going?"
"Camp Pendleton, to see his brother do a triathlon."
"Ah." Trish thought for a moment. "Camouflage shorts and pearls."
Cil a just laughed.
* * *
IN THE END, SHE DID WEAR SHORTS, along with a Tommy Hilfiger T-shirt and Skechers. Casual was the order of the day, she thought, settling her Dodgers cap more securely on her head as she got out of Rand's car. He circled around to her.
"Sorry I was late getting over to your house this morning," Cil a said.
"Wel , I guess you'l just have to make it up to me, won't you?"
"So, triathlon mania, huh?" Cil a brushed at her clothes, adjusting her shirt.
"Mmm." Without warning, Rand reached out and scooped her against him. His mouth was hot on hers, sending her pulse sprinting in excitement.
An instant later, he let her loose.
Pressing her fingertips to her tingling lips, Cil a looked at him. "What was that al about?"
"I figure I'l be waiting al day to real y kiss you. I thought I'd store it up."
"Good thing I wore indelible lipstick," she said.
"Good thing," he agreed.
"So who's going to be here today?" They began walking down the road from the parking lot to the staging area. The dry brown hil s behind them were dotted with the dusty green of mesquite and creosote bushes.
"My little brother Jeff is doing the tri. My parents and my sisters Tina and Diane are coming to watch."
It was just a casual stop-by, she told herself. Nothing to get nervous about, at least not as long as she could restrain herself from ripping his clothes off in public. "Is that the lot of you?"
"We've got an older brother, Gary, who lives in Chicago. He couldn't be here." Rand reached out to tangle his fingers in hers and draw her closer as they walked.
"A ful triathlon, that's a big deal."
Humor glinted in his eyes. "Oh, we Mitchel boys are al about endurance."
"So I've discovered."
"Actual y, it's not an Iron Man, it's an Olympic-length tri. Shorter course overal , maybe three hours tops."
"What's Jeff's best time?"
"At this distance?" Rand squinted. "About two and a half hours. We'l hang out for the race, go find somewhere nice for lunch, maybe hit Las Brisas in Laguna. Then again—" he stopped and pressed a kiss on her "—maybe by that time I'l just want to take you home and have my way with you."
It sent a little spurt of excitement through her. How was it that it took so little, Cil a wondered as they resumed walking. Just hearing the warm resonance of his voice could get her paralyzed with lust.
She swal owed. Probably not a good topic to be pondering when she was just about to meet his parents.
The boat basin where the triathlon was to start was a scene of control ed chaos. Triangular plastic flags fluttered from a line in the morning breeze.
Numbers marked on their shoulders and thighs in black felt pen, athletes mil ed about in Speedos and swim caps. The PA system squawked.
"So this is what people look like with zero body fat," Cil a murmured.
"Wait until you see my brother."
"Rand," someone shouted from one side even as he spoke.
Rand led her up to a racer standing on his own. It definitely wasn't a "meet the parents" if only one person was here, Cil a reminded herself, surprised at the relief she felt.
"Hey, bud." Rand's brother raised his hand. They went through one of those complicated guy-bonding handshakes that ended with a shoulder bump. Rand turned to her. "Cil a, this is my brother Jeff."
"Hey, Cil a. Nice to meet you."
Rand looked around at the crowd. "Where's everybody else?"
"They went over to get race T-shirts. They'l be back any minute."
Jeff had the ropy look of a long-distance athlete, and grinned back at them from behind mirrored sunglasses. He seemed energized, bouncing restlessly on the tips of his toes. Not quite the way she would be if she were looking at three hours of brutal competition.
"So how do you think you're going to do?"
Jeff struck a muscle-man pose. "I vil be ze king of the world," he said in a credible imitation of Schwarzenegger.
"Mmm, careful making fun of the governor," Cil a said.
Jeff grinned. "Top twenty would make me happy. That's what I'm shooting for."
"Don't let him kid you," said a slender, dark-haired woman who walked up behind them. "He's obsessed with finishing in the top ten. That's al we've heard about for the last hour. I'm Tina," she said to Cil a, holding out her hand. An echo of Rand hovered in her smile.
"Tina's down in San Diego," Rand told her, "going to fish."
"Oceanography at Scripps," she elaborated to Cil a, with an elbow for Rand. "But I'm stil the life of the party."
"Oh, yeah, nothing like squid jokes to liven things up," Jeff said.
A slightly tal er, red-haired version of Tina joined them. "This is Diane," Tina stated.
"Are you Rand's friend? Nice to meet you."
"Who let this kind of ragtag bunch in?" A lovely woman with hair more silver than brown walked up, holding hands with a sturdy-looking man. Cil a could see where the Mitchel boys had gotten their looks, a perfect melding of their mother's carved cheekbones with their father's dark coloring and ready smile.
"Cil a, these are my parents, Josephine and Vinnie. Mom, Dad, this is Cil a."
"Cal me Josie," his mother said. "And don't worry if you can't remember al the names. Half the time I can't keep them straight."
"Like the othe
r day when you told me Jeff was bringing a friend to the race?" Jeff ribbed her.
"I'm entitled to a senior moment now and again," she told him haughtily.
"Don't blame me," Vinnie said. "After the first two, I voted for just numbering you. Your mother shouted me down, though."
Cil a wasn't listening at that point. He'd told his parents he was bringing her. Just what did that mean? Polite, he was probably just being polite.
But a little warm feeling blossomed in her, even so.
Just then, the announcer started cal ing groups of swimmers up to prepare to start. "I'd better get up there," Jeff said. "I'm in the second wave." He col ected hugs from the women in the family, shoulder punches with Rand, and a solemn handshake with Vinnie. Then, flashing a smile, he jogged down to the starting line.
"I almost entered but I didn't want to show him up." Vinnie's smile was broad.
"Wel , that was noble of you," Josephine told him.
"I try," he said modestly. "You inspire me." He put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed.
Cil a blinked. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen her parents touch in public. Little enough in private, for that matter.
"Okay everyone, they're getting ready to go," Vinnie said. "Let's yel 'come on, Jeff' at the count of three."
"Come on, Jeffy," Diane objected.
"Al right, Jeffy. Ready?" He counted down.
"Come on, Jeffy," they chorused. Jeff turned to toss them a quick thumbs-up before he pul ed down his goggles.
The Klaxon sounded and they were off.
* * *
FOR A WHILE, they just watched the swimmers. Inevitably, though, the gentle gril ing began. Rand had apparently decided to leave it up to her as to how much she wanted to say about her identity, for which she was grateful. It had a way of making people tense up and she was having too good a time for that just then. "So, Cil a, are you from around here?" Vinnie dabbed at his mouth and laid his napkin on the table.
"Pretty much. L.A., anyway," she added.
Vinnie made a mournful face. "Five kids, and the only one of the bunch who's stayed around home is Jeff."
"La Jol a is hardly thousands of miles away," Tina told him.
"Maybe, but Gary's in Chicago and Diane's in San Francisco and Rand's been off carting around Europe."
"I'm here right now," Rand reminded him, reaching out to link hands with Cil a. "I only live an hour up the road, you know."
"This month. You're waiting to go back, I can tel ."
"That's al right as long as it's a short stay." Josie's eyes gleamed. "We can go visit him, take one of those cycling tours through the south of France that I've been tel ing you about."
"Cycling tours?" Vinnie looked at her uneasily. "Vacations are about relaxing."
She gave a beatific smile. "Exactly. Imagine riding down a country lane in the middle of al those fields of lavender."
Vinnie didn't look convinced. "I'm an old man. I'm worried about my heart."
"Then you should be happy for the chance to get some exercise. And you're not old, you're only fifty-four."
"My children have aged me before my time," he said darkly. "Then again, their mother's kept me young." He leaned over to give her a peck.
"That's why we should go on the biking tour."
He gave her a hopeful look. "What about a driving tour?"
"What about a fifty-fifty split," she said, bargaining back. "And a four-course French meal at the end of the night."
Vinnie brightened. "Four-course meal, hmm? For you, sweetie pie, I'l suffer."
Josie's mouth curved. "I thought you might."
Cil a glanced over at Rand, who wasn't, as she expected, watching his parents.
He was watching her.
The snapping jolt of connection was enough to make her dizzy. It didn't matter that she'd just eaten; she was suddenly ravenous for him.
"Look, they're coming out of the water," Vinnie cried.
Cil a blinked. Rand gave a slow smile. "I guess we'd better get on over there," he said and caught her hand as they fol owed his family to the transition area.
* * *
THE TRIATHLON WAS DONE, as was the lunch to celebrate Jeff's sixth-place finish. They trailed out to the parking lot and their cars. "We hope to see you again," Josie said warmly, holding both of Cil a's hands. Vinnie caught her up in a bear hug.
And then she and Rand were on the highway, heading home.
"Your parents are so sweet. I can't believe how easy they are together. They seem like they real y care for each other."
"Sure." He looked at her. "Don't yours?"
Tolerated one another out of simple habit, more like. "They're not like your parents, that's for sure. You've got to know how rare that is."
"But your mom and dad have been together for how long, now, almost thirty years? That's got to count for something."
"I guess." Grim endurance, she supposed, or maybe stubbornness. Al she'd learned from them about relationships was what not to do. Anyway, she didn't want to think about her parents and their constant bickering. She wanted to hold on to the golden glow of the day. "I real y had a wonderful time today, you know," she told him.
"Does it make me a bad person to admit that I spent the whole last hour thinking about making love with you?"
"So that's why you didn't say a whole lot." The brush of his fingers made her tingle.
"I was busy planning." He ran his hand up under her shorts and slipped his fingers under the edge of her lacy underwear.
Cil a shivered. "I love a man who's prepared," she breathed.
11
CILLA STOOD IN FRONT of the bathroom mirror naked, drying her hair. One of the pleasures of short hair was that it didn't take long. She bent double, running the brush and hot air through it to add volume.
And a marauding hand grabbed her behind and squeezed.
She yelped and jumped upright. "Stop that. Masher."
"Wel , if you're going to stand around naked like that, you're taking your chances." Rand grinned at her impudently, deodorant in hand.
"Can't a poor helpless woman get dressed for work without some sex-crazed man coming after her?" she asked primly.
"I suppose. If she were trying to get dressed. You, however—" he swept her close and slid one hand up over her breast "—are just standing here like this because you know it drives me crazy."
"We've got to get to work," she told him, but her blow-dryer lowered to rest on the counter as her muscles weakened. The warmth of his lips trailing over the line of her shoulder blended with the brush of his fingers on her nipples. Her system stuttered. Good grief what this man could do to her. "It's after seven-thirty," she managed, even as she turned her head to kiss him.
"Mmm." He stopped abruptly and dropped his hands. "Wel , I guess you're right. We should get going."
"Tease." Cil a aimed a swat at him as he stepped out of reach. "I'l teach you to get me al het up and disappear."
"You did teach me," he reminded her with a cocky grin, walking out of the bathroom into his bedroom.
She fol owed moments later, watching him step unapologetical y naked into his closet. He had a gorgeous body, she thought, al long lines of muscle and sinew and she just admired it for a moment before turning to the bedside chair that held her overnight bag. "So why's it okay for you to walk around bareass and not me?" she chal enged.
He poked his head out of the closet. "I'm walking around bareass in the privacy of my bedroom," he pointed out.
"So am I." She rummaged for her underwear and bra.
"No," he corrected, "you're running around bareass in the privacy of my bedroom, which pretty much makes you fair game for my animal lust."
"Animal lust, hmm?"
"Want me to demonstrate?" He slipped his arms around her and burrowed against her neck.
She made a soft sound and leaned into him. "So, what are your plans for tonight?"
"Oh, I can demonstrate now," he said indistinctly as he kissed her breast
s.
"Animal," she murmured, then squealed as he tumbled her onto the bed. "You're kind of a rise-to-the-occasion kind of guy, aren't you?" she asked breathlessly, nibbling on the taut skin of his throat.
"I'm nothing but a rise-to-the-occasion kind of guy," he assured her, sliding her hand down to demonstrate. "Just let me at your occasion."
Cil a rol ed in bed until she was on top of him. "I've got to take my occasion and get to work, thank you very much. You know, for some guys, the shower would have been enough."
Rand pul ed her close, running his hands down her back and over her hips. "I'm what you cal a motivated self-starter."
"Do tel ." The stroking had her softening against him until she caught sight of the clock. She wiggled against him a little, then eeled her way off the bed.
"Only when pressed. So why were you asking about tonight?" Rand fol owed her and opened his bureau for a T-shirt.
"I keep forgetting to ask you. I've got to go out tonight and I thought you might want to join me."
"I always want to join you. What am I joining you for?" he asked, slipping the shirt over his head.
Cil a grinned, enjoying herself. "Oh, something I need to do."
"Why do I always get uneasy when you get vague?"
She unzipped her garment bag that hung on the back of the door. "Because you're too suspicious. It's for a good cause and it's sort of a work thing."
Rand walked back into the closet and pul ed on a pale blue dress shirt. "Fun, fun, fun."
"It'l be more fun for me if you go," she wheedled as she slipped into a fifties-style halter dress in polka-dot white. She pushed up the zipper partway, then walked over to the closet door and turned her back to him. "Help me with the zipper?"
"Speaking of fun."
"Up, I meant," she said, shivering from the touch of his lips to the nape of her neck.
"You should be more specific."
"Mr. Clock says seven-forty."
Rand sighed and closed the zipper. "So this thing tonight is probably boring and it's for work, which means keeping my distance."
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