A Chance Encounter

by Lindsay McKenna

  “Probably just another damn reporter harassing you,” he said. The afterglow from their beautiful day together shattered around her, and Katie barely nodded, locking the door behind her. She purposely blocked out the call and went to the bathroom to shower and change.

  Taylor was grim when she reappeared, dressed in a pale pink sundress.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “I’ve got to go, Katie. That was a call from my office. There’s been a hazardous-materials spill twenty miles from here, and Dean Gerus, the editor in chief, wants Barry and me to cover it. The spill is pretty big, and the stuff is poisonous as hell. Lives could be lost. It’s a big story. It’s my job, Katie. I can’t turn it down.”

  Taylor ran his fingers through his hair and walked over to her. She was smiling up at him. His frown disappeared as he drank her in. He settled his hands on her small shoulders. “You’re like a butterfly; every time you change, it’s into something prettier and more colorful.”

  Katie continued to smile, but it took all her effort. “Thank you. Taylor. Be careful. My intuition tells me you’re right—this is dangerous.” Her eyes turned dark with pleading, and she slipped her arms around him. “Promise?”

  Sighing and thinking that this woman was all he wanted for the rest of his life, Taylor rested his head against her freshly washed hair. “For you, I’ll be careful.”

  A shiver of longing coursed through Katie, and she lifted her head. She was not to be disappointed. His mouth moved gently across hers, and for one magical moment she lost herself in his fiery, tender touch. She had stolen a moment from reality, here in his arms. She wanted nothing more. Ever.

  Taylor eased Katie from his arms and caressed the curling ends of her hair lightly. “Sorry I won’t be able to help you cook dinner.”

  “You wouldn’t have wanted it anyway. We were going to make tofu surprise.”

  He grinned. “Tofu surprise? You’re right. I don’t even know what tofu is.”

  Earlier in the day Taylor had checked all the locks on the windows, so he knew they were secure. Katie was in the kitchen, whipping up tofu surprise. Actually, the smell issuing from that room wasn’t so bad, Taylor conceded, as he threw a lightweight linen sports jacket over one shoulder. His mouth watered. He was hungry. One look at Katie in a bright, red-checked apron that stood out gaily against the pink sundress, and he was a man starved. He wanted to tell her that the colors she wore would be gaudy and mismatched on anyone else. And then he smiled because Katie’s naturalness far outshone anything she wore, or didn’t wear….

  “I’m going, Katie. Make sure you lock the door after me. And don’t answer it. If the reporters start hounding you again, take the phone off the hook.”

  “I’ll be okay, Taylor.” She quickly tossed snow peas, water chestnuts and a handful of cashews into the wok, preparing to stir-fry them. “You’re the one who has to be careful. Do you have the key?”

  Taylor held it up. “Right here. I’ll be back as soon as I can, Katie. Don’t worry about me.”

  Don’t worry about him, Katie fumed to herself, gnawing on her lower lip. She had slipped into a white cotton nightgown that brushed her ankles. The clock read midnight. Taylor had been gone seven hours already. He’d called her by cell phone four hours earlier, telling her he was okay. Only a few people knew her cell number, thank goodness. She went to the closet and retrieved the sheets and blankets. She knew very little about hazardous-material spills, only that they were dangerous. Was Taylor being careful? Would he take foolish risks to get his story?

  She fluffed the pillow and placed it at one end of the settee, snuggling beneath the sheet and lightweight blanket. Tonight Taylor could have the bed. He was simply too long for this little couch. True to Taylor’s prediction, the phone had begun to ring with reporters’ queries shortly after he left, and the receiver now lay beside it on the table. As much as she wanted to put it back—she felt very cut off this way—she knew it wasn’t wise. She had called Maud earlier and learned that several reporters had been to the bookstore during the day, looking for Katie.

  “I told them you went to San Diego,” Maud had chortled in pleased tones. “At least I got rid of ’em for you temporarily.”

  A smile played on Katie’s lips as she closed her eyes, thinking of Maud’s warm countenance. Without her friends and Taylor, she would have been defenseless. Hugging the pillow in her arms, Katie sighed and slipped into a deep sleep, her dreams brilliant, colorful and pleasant because Taylor was in them.

  At three in the morning, the parking lot behind Katie’s building was empty. The lights of the Toyota Camry stabbed through the darkness as Taylor made the final turn into the lot. Out of habit, he let his gaze sweep the shadowy recesses of the poorly lit brick structure. He froze. And then blinked once to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. There! He slammed on the brakes as he saw a man’s figure dart from the doorway of Katie’s bookstore. Taylor jerked the car door open and leaped out.

  “Hey!” he thundered and then took off in pursuit. “STOP!”

  The sound of metal grating against metal broke the dark silence of the early morning hour. Katie moved slightly, but did not awaken. In her dreams she watched the brass doorknob move slowly to the left. The distinct click of the latch followed. Light slitted through the opening as the door moved, and the shadowy form of a man slipped silently through.

  Taylor rubbed his smarting eyes as he shut the door quietly and locked it behind him. He was still breathing hard. His shirt clung damply to his chest and back. Dammit, he hadn’t caught the intruder.

  Was this Katie’s anonymous caller? Or was it someone else, drawn to Katie due to all the damn publicity Taylor had caused? Agitated, he stood for a few moments, staring through the junglelike living room. In the pale glow of a single lamp, he saw that Katie was fast asleep on the settee. A warmth spread through him, easing his tension. At last a tired smile creased Taylor’s face as he moved over to where she slept. There was a hand-scribbled note on the coffee table, and he leaned down to retrieve it.

  ‘Take the bed, Taylor. You’re too long for this settee and it’s just right for me. Wake me when you get home. Katie.”

  Exhaustion lapped at him as he studied the note and then her serene face. Home. How good that sounded! It was almost as if…as if they were married. The thought lingered in Taylor’s mind. Katie’s blanket had slipped off sometime earlier, and he bent to pull it over her again. He was sweaty and dirty, and all he wanted was a hot shower and sleep. The note notwithstanding, he didn’t want to wake her. He kissed her cheek instead and got up, moving through the apartment, which smelled of the freshly picked lilacs that stood in vases on the windowsill and the coffee table. Katie’s world, he thought, his heart wrenching with fear for her. Her beautiful world filled with flowers, fairy tales and untarnished ideals…

  Katie awoke at seven, right on the button. Sleepily she rubbed her eyes and sat up. The note was no longer on the table, so she knew Taylor was home. Why hadn’t he woken her? Her heart picked up in cadence and she moved across the sunlit room to the bedroom where the door was ajar. Taylor’s snores punctuated the stillness, and Katie smiled wistfully. Her heart expanded with such incredible joy that she was momentarily suffocated.

  Taylor lay on his stomach. Both pillows were on the floor, and he was sprawled out over half the bed, with no covers on him. His dark hair feathered across his brow, and his features were relaxed in deep sleep. Katie’s heart mushroomed as she spotted her note in his closed fist. She ached to go to him, slip into bed next to him, ask him to love her. Katie closed her eyes, realizing that this wasn’t the time. Not yet. She had sensed how fragile Taylor was—how confused about his divorce and about his feelings for her. Quietly she slipped into the room to retrieve a fresh dress for the day. Taylor wanted her, but he respected himself—and her—enough to wait. Katie found that endearingly old-fashioned, yet it was a quality she would want in the man with whom she fell in love.

  Katie moved carefully
to the closet, trying not to bump into anything. She had no idea when Taylor had come in, but the way he was sleeping, she suspected it was late. This morning, she would try to be extra quiet. A tough order for a clumsy Sagittarian! She smiled, feeling brilliant and alive as the sunlight that flooded her bedroom.

  “Katie girl,” Maud greeted her. The older woman, dressed in a Hawaiian print muumuu, was seated on the floor in the midst of a stack of newly arrived books.

  “Hi, Maud. What are you doing down there? You know we made an agreement. You work on your feet, I work on my knees. I’m younger than you.”

  Maud’s grin widened. “You’re looking fit this morning, Katie.” Katie smiled. She had dressed in a bright red peasant blouse, a pink sash and a purple skirt with white sandals.

  Still smiling, she placed fresh bouquets of lilacs on each of the reading tables. “I had a wonderful day yesterday, Maud.”

  “Humph, you mean Taylor Grant finally made up for all the grief he’s caused you?” Maud slowly rose from her knees.

  Color stained Katie’s cheeks as she put lilacs on the last table. “You still don’t like him, do you?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Maud said, seating herself behind the desk.

  “Ouch!” Katie collided with a stack of books, then reached down to retrieve them. Her big toe smarted from the impact. “What do you think of him, Maud?”

  “He’s a reporter.”

  Katie put the books on the desk, giving Maud a distressed look. “He has also apologized, and is trying to rectify things.”

  “That’s in his favor.”

  The hint of a smile appeared on Maud’s face. “Look at me!” Katie demanded.

  Maud lifted her head, barely about to contain her grin.

  “Aha!” Katie cried. “Just as I thought. You do like him!”

  “I think it’s more important if you like him,” Maud replied, a lively twinkle in her brown eyes.

  Katie sighed and rested against the desk. “He’s wonderful, Maud….”

  “But not perfect.”

  “No…but then, who among us is? He’s been deeply hurt by his divorce. He’s afraid to reach out to love again….”

  “Welcome to the real world.”

  Katie laughed, placing her hand on Maud’s shoulder. “You just pretend to be old and crotchety!”

  Maud patted Katie’s hand and nodded, her face softening. “He’s not such a bad guy.”

  Brightening, Katie nodded. She looked at the wall clock. It was nearly eight, time to open. Already she saw several reporters waiting. “I like him, Maud. A lot.”

  “I know you do, lamb. Now, listen to me! You’ve got a busy schedule today. This afternoon you’ll be at Dr. Abrams’s veterinary hospital from two o’clock on. He called about it yesterday. He’s got a whole slew of animals that need you.”

  “And we have to do inventory tonight, don’t we?” Katie hated inventory.

  “Afraid so.” Maud glared at the reporters outside. “If I can get those pesky reporters out of here, I’ll start this afternoon.” She winked at Katie. “Maybe we can get a head start.”

  Katie glumly agreed. Numbers and figures weren’t her thing. If it weren’t for Maud’s keen eye, she’d never be able to keep the accounting straight. Her mind moved to a more pleasant thought: that Taylor was asleep upstairs. Suddenly, despite the thought of inventory, and despite the reporters outside, Katie felt happier than she had in a long time.

  Taylor pried one eye open, then the other. Soft classical music floated through the apartment, and he rolled over. Noon. It was noon! With a growl, he rolled out of bed and sat up, rubbing his stubbly face.

  “Ah, you’re up.”

  He raised his head. Katie stood in the doorway, wearing a bright green apron and holding a wooden spoon in one hand. Automatically, he felt himself harden in need. She looked so clean and pretty.

  “Barely,” he muttered. “Why’d you let me sleep so long? I’ve got to get to the office.”

  “What a grouch! Guess I’d better watch it!” She laughed and walked to the bathroom, turning the faucets in the tub. “Come on, a nice hot bath will do wonders.”

  How could Katie be cheery when Taylor felt exhausted? Sluggishly, he rose.

  “You wouldn’t have any coffee in the house, would you?”

  “You think vegetarians don’t drink coffee?” she teased. “I’ll make some. How do you like it?”

  “Black and strong,” he muttered.

  Katie held her tongue after this—Taylor didn’t seem up to repartee. Her heart went out to him. “Coffee coming up,” she promised.

  “When it’s ready, bring it in to me, Katie, please?”

  “You got it. Are you hungry?”

  “I don’t even know if I’m alive yet.”

  He was shaving when Katie knocked lightly at the door. “Come on in,” he called. Ouch! Dammit! He had cut himself again. Taylor glared into the steamy mirror.

  Katie opened the door and entered. She set the mug of coffee on the porcelain basin. “Looks like you cut yourself.”

  “Don’t rub it in,” he muttered, looking around for something to press against his latest wound.

  Katie tried to ignore the masculine body, clad only in a towel wrapped haphazardly at the waist. “Hold still,” she said and lightly applied her fingertip to the cut on his jaw.

  Taylor’s hooded eyes widened as he felt the intense heat from her touch. A tingling sensation seemed to focus in on his jaw, and he stood very still.

  “Being the personal friend of a healer has certain benefits,” she teased. “When I was a kid and cut my finger or scraped my knee, I’d always run to my mother so she could touch me. She always took away the pain, and that was all I cared about. Well, that should do it.” She looked at the small cut, satisfied. “There’s your coffee. By the time you’re through in here, you ought to be awake.” She turned around and left.

  “I’ll be damned,” Taylor muttered, touching his jaw. It felt funny, the tingling sensation slowly dissolving from the locus of his injury. Taking a towel, he wiped steam from the mirror to look closely at the cut. His bloodshot eyes widened slightly. What had once been a deep gash was now a faint pink mark. His pupils dilated, and he angled his jaw closer to the mirror. Impossible! He’d been bleeding seconds before! Katie had applied no direct pressure to the cut. He dropped his hands to the sink, staring down at the basin. Confusion overwhelmed him momentarily. Grabbing the mug of coffee, he burned his tongue as he took a huge swallow.

  “Katie—” He thrust open the bathroom door.

  “Take a seat, Taylor. Lunch is ready.” She pointed toward the living room.

  Reluctantly Taylor made way as she picked up a tray filled with unknown things that smelled awfully good. He grimaced as he finished knotting his tie and followed her.

  “Look, we’ve got to talk.”

  “Aren’t you hungry? I’m starved! I missed breakfast this morning.” Quickly she arranged two plates with silverware and bright pink linen napkins. Next she brought over two huge pillows and gestured for him to sit down.

  Taylor surveyed the meal as he sat cross-legged opposite her. “What is it?”

  ‘Typical Scorpio. What’s in it? What’s it made of? Will it poison me?” She laughed softly and filled his plate, then handed it to him. “To answer your question. We have long-grain brown rice, fresh snow peas slightly steamed and a fresh tomato sauce with eggplant, onion, green pepper and mushrooms. Vegetarian spaghetti sauce. Satisfied?”

  He had the good grace to look embarrassed. “I don’t usually get home-cooked meals. I guess I’m a lousy guest, right?”

  Katie poured herself a small glass of white wine. “Wrong. I’m glad you’re curious about what I’ve made for you.”

  She was so precious. Taylor nearly reached out to touch her blazing cheek and tell her so. “Are you always so cheerful?”

  “It’s noon, Taylor, not six in the morning.”

  “You know, you’re right.” And cautiously
, he tasted each of the foods on his plate.

  Katie suppressed a giggle as she watched Taylor. The surprise showed in his eyes when he found the food palatable. “Well, do I pass muster as a cook?”

  His mouth was full, so he nodded.

  Trying to not say anything, Katie watched him gulp down two platefuls of food in fifteen minutes flat. He ate like a starved man; it was bad for his digestion. Katie eyed the last of the rice as he shoveled it onto his plate.

  “Want some more?” he asked, before emptying the bowl.

  “No, I’m stuffed. Go ahead.”

  “This is great, Katie. Thank you.”

  “So you’re no longer antivegetarian?”

  Taylor grinned. “I owe you an apology, don’t I?”

  “No, not really. You were hungry.”

  “Being diplomatic?”

  ‘Trying to be.”

  “I was starved. I didn’t eat last night because of the hazmat spill. When I got home at three this morning, I was dead on my feet, I took a shower and I hit the bed.” His eyes grew thoughtful, and he held her gaze. “Thanks for leaving me the bed.”

  “I couldn’t see destroying your back by forcing you to sleep on that settee.”

  Taylor smiled and leaned back, feeling thoroughly sated and relaxed. “Your cooking sure beats the hell out of the fast-food joints I’ve patronized for the last seven years. Covering the crime beat at night does that to you. I’d grab a doughnut and a cup of coffee. Sometimes I’d eat once in twelve hours. I’d be either too beat to eat or just too busy.” He shrugged. “Maybe,” he said thoughtfully, “just maybe California’s okay. It’s a special sort of place. Or maybe it’s just you, Katie Riordan.”

  She felt heat rise to her cheeks. Nervous beneath his smoldering appraisal, she moved to gather the dishes.

  “Don’t go,” Taylor said, his fingers stilling her hand.

  Katie sat back, tucking her hands in her lap. “I’m going to have to leave in a few minutes. Maud wants to go to lunch.”

  “I understand. Listen, what’s your schedule this afternoon?”