by Jackie Black
Yes! Elizabeth’s traitorous heart answered silently, followed an instant later by an equally vehement and just as sincere No!
“Oh . . . I . . . ah . . . ,” she started stumbling for an answer, her mind blank of excuses for the time being.
Sonny glanced at her, his mouth compressing into a tight line as he saw that she was searching for a way to turn him down. Ordinarily, he would have let it go if a woman didn’t want to go out with him, though he had seldom been faced with such a reaction to one of his invitations. But there was something about Elizabeth Farrell that
wouldn’t let him risk rejection. He had to see her again, and that was all there was to it.
A small park lay on their right, and almost without thinking, Sonny pulled the car into a parking space fronting it, while Elizabeth looked at him wide-eyed and puzzled.
“What are you doing?” she asked faintly as Sonny killed the motor, then turned in his seat to look at her.
Sonny answered her indirectly. “Lissa, I’ve been a widower for two years,” he said firmly, holding her gaze when she would dearly have loved to be able to look away. “And during the last year, I’ve started dating again, though not seriously ... at least, I haven’t met anyone I wanted to date seriously . . . until today.”
Elizabeth felt her breath get stuck in her throat, but she couldn’t look away and she couldn’t speak, for some reason.
“I know we’ve barely met,” Sonny went on more quietly, searching Elizabeth’s face for a reaction, “but I think you’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. I haven’t been able to get my mind on anything else but you since the moment Ferris introduced us. And I would very much like the chance to see more of you,” he added, his voice softening to a caress. “Please, Lissa. Will you give me that chance?”
Elizabeth finally managed to take a breath. Then she swallowed and searched for something to say that would reflect her true feelings. But she was so confused about her feelings concerning Sonny Strotherton that nothing came to mind, and her silence prompted Sonny to speak again.
“Come to the concert with me Saturday night, Lissa,” he said persuasively as he reached across the seat to wrap one of her dark curls around his finger.
When he tugged at the curl he held very gently, Elizabeth was amazed at the erotic sensations the action provoked inside her. Good heavens! she thought with bewildered alarm. Am I that drawn to him?
Then he let go of the curl and moved his fingers to her flushed cheek, stroking her smooth skin lightly with the backs of them. Again, Elizabeth experienced a flash of arousal, and her bewilderment grew. He was doing nothing in the least overtly erotic. So why was she reacting as vividly as though he had touched her in a much more intimate fashion?
“I . . She stopped and swallowed again. “I’m not sure that would be a good idea,” she got out, but her voice sounded unsteady and breathless.
“Why?” Sonny’s smile was tender and warm and caressing.
A good question, Elizabeth thought rather frantically. “Well, I’m going to be starting medical school very soon.” She attempted to put a degree of firmness into her voice. She failed so blatantly that she became irritated with her own indecisiveness. “I won’t have time for much of a social life then,” she added, frowning at herself much more than at Sonny.
Sonny’s smile widened. “Hey, Lissa,” he said softly. “I’ve been there, remember? I know the demands that will be made on your time. But I also know that no matter how hard you work at your studies, there will always be time left over; and I’d like to spend some of it with you.”
Elizabeth blinked at him helplessly. “We’ve barely met,” she protested weakly. “You can’t be sure you’ll want to keep seeing me . . .”
Sonny merely shrugged, and his smile didn’t abate in the slightest, and his eyes, behind which was a growing warmth, were on hers, and then on her mouth, and then back to her eyes, and Elizabeth found herself saying, “All right, I’ll go to the concert with you Saturday night.”
The smile broadened into a grin then, and despite Elizabeth’s dismay at what she’d done, she was captivated by it.
“Thank you, Lissa,” Sonny said, bringing one finger down from her cheek to her mouth. He stroked her upper lip just once, dazing Elizabeth in the process, and then he shifted in his seat, started the car, and backed out of the parking space.
Neither of them spoke again until they reached Elizabeth’s home.
“I’ve passed this place many times,” Sonny said admiringly, “and I’ve always liked it. Have you lived here long?”
“All my life,” Elizabeth said faintly. She was still dazed by the power of her attraction to Sonny and the danger she was courting in giving in to that attraction, if only for one date.
Then she realized she’d better get out of the car and send Sonny on his way before Danny or Jay or Darla appeared on the scene, provoking the necessity of making some very awkward introductions.
“Thank you for the ride,” she said quickly as she reached for the door handle and started to open the door.
“And thank you for agreeing to come out with me,” Sonny said smoothly. “I’ll pick you up at six thirty on Saturday, if that’s all right with you, Lissa.”
“But the concerts usually don’t start until—”
“We’ll have dinner first,” Sonny said with such firm confidence that Elizabeth was discouraged from arguing with him.
“All right,” she said on a defeated sigh as she pushed her car door open and climbed out. “Thanks again for the ride.”
She shut the door before Sonny could reply and walked hurriedly toward the front door of her home, waiting to hear the sound of Sonny backing out of the driveway as she walked.
When she realized he was going to wait until she got inside before he left, she walked faster, and when the front door at last closed behind her, she had the curious sensation of reaching safety from a very real danger on the other side of the door ... a danger that had little to do with the exposure of her role as the Vixen, and a great deal to do with exposure of her heart to the pain of invasion.
Chapter Seven
“Who are you going out with?” Maggie Strotherton asked sharply as she sat on the end of her father’s bed and watched him struggle with the black tie of his tuxedo.
“You don’t know her. She’s Dr. Cabot’s goddaughter.” Sonny answered calmly though he wasn’t feeling particularly calm at the moment. Not only was he more nervous about a date than he remembered being since high school, he was annoyed by the familiar signs of possessive curiosity Maggie was exhibiting.
“What’s her name?” Maggie almost demanded.
Sonny’s annoyance grew, but he kept his -voice under control. “Elizabeth Farrell,” he answered. “Her nickname’s Lissa.”
“You’re already calling her by her nickname?” Maggie asked in a suspicious tone.
Sonny finally finished with his tie, gave himself one last look in the mirror, then turned toward his daughter.
“Dr. Cabot introduced her by her nickname, Maggie,” he said levelly. “Come on. I’ll sit with you while you have your dinner.”
“Huh!” Maggie snorted, lifting her tiny nose into the air as she hopped up from the bed and headed for the door. “You don’t have to. I wouldn’t want to make you late for your date!”
Like hell, you wouldn't Sonny thought, half amused, half angry at Maggie’s transparent behavior.
As he followed his daughter’s flouncing figure downstairs, Sonny realized that if he and Lissa were headed for the sort of relationship he’d been hoping to find, he and Maggie were probably going to have some major confrontations over the matter. He should have scotched the sort of behavior she was displaying now when it had first surfaced, rather than waiting until it mattered enough to him to call her on it. Since she was probably under the impression her behavior had accomplished her purpose before, she had no reason to change it now.
At the small table in the breakfast nook off th
e kitchen where Sonny and Maggie normally took their meals—they only used the dining room when they had company—Sonny looked thoughtfully at the sullen expression on his daughter’s face and the way she was merely toying with her lamb chops.
“Maggie, let me ask you something,” he said in a casual way.
Maggie glanced at him and shrugged by way of answer.
“Suppose I were to tell you you couldn’t be friends with Peggy Andrews anymore?”
Peggy Andrews had been Maggie’s closest friend since first grade, and her reaction to Sonny’s question was wide-eyed shock, but before she could say anything, he went on.
“Or suppose I decided not to allow you to single-date until you’re eighteen?”
Now Maggie looked at him with fiery indignation. “You wouldn’t do that!” she exclaimed.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Sonny asked calmly.
“Well, because . . . ,” Maggie sputtered, “. . . because I’d run away or something if you did!”
Sonny raised his eyebrows at her, and Maggie stuck her lower lip out for a moment before she got a thoughtful look in her eyes and gradually started to smile.
“But you wouldn’t do it,” she said scoffingly.
“I repeat . . . why wouldn’t I?” Sonny drawled.
Maggie’s look was smugly confident. “Because you love me, Daddy,” she said matter-of-factly, “and you know how much Peggy means to me and how much I look forward to being allowed to single-date. You like to give me things I want.”
She shrugged, as though the matter were settled.
Sonny nodded, his gaze steady. “And do you love me, Maggie?”
Maggie’s smile faded and, as though she sensed a trap, she began to frown.
“Of course I love you, Daddy!’ she said impatiently.
“Enough to be glad for me when I have something I want?”
The trap sprang shut, and Maggie began scowling thunderously. “If you’re talking about getting married again, it’s not the same thing at all!” she snapped.
“No?” Sonny’s brows were raised again.
“No, because I’ll have to live with your new wife, too, and it’s not fair if I don’t like her,” Maggie spoke rapidly, not allowing Sonny to break in, “and besides, I know what women are like, Daddy!”
“Oh?” Sonny could hardly keep his smile under control, but he managed it. “And what are they like, Maggie?” he asked with nothing more than polite curiosity in his tone.
“They twist men like you around their little fingers,” Maggie said sternly, “just so they can get your money and live in a big house like this and be married to a doctor! You have to be careful, Daddy,” she said, lifting a finger to shake it at him. “Men are fools for a pretty face and a sexy body! Women can ...”
“Maggie!” Sonny said exasperatedly, pushing her finger firmly out of his face. “What do you know about . . . Well, never mind! I don’t know where you’ve picked up that kind of cynicism about your own sex, but all women aren’t like that by a long shot! Your mother wasn’t, and—”
“Of course, Mom wasn’t!” Maggie interrupted, and now her large blue eyes began to glisten with tears. “Mom was wonderful. That’s why I couldn’t stand it if you married someone awful.”
“Maggie, give me a little credit,” Sonny said gently. He wasn’t sure whether Maggie’s tears were entirely genuine, or a combination of real grief for the loss of her mother and a weapon to keep him in line, but he couldn’t risk misjudging her. “I hope I’m wiser than to get involved with someone awful.”
For just an instant, a vision of the Vixen flashed across Sonny’s mind and provoked a sensation of guilt inside him, but he impatiently pushed the feeling down. After all, he wouldn’t marry someone like the Vixen in a million years!
“I doubt it!” Maggie said in a choked voice. “Men don’t care what a woman’s really like as long as she’s pretty and sexy and can make him believe he’s smart and handsome and better than other men!” Sonny sighed. “That’s just not true, Maggie,” he said gently. “At least, it’s not true of me,” he added, hoping to God it wasn’t. “I wouldn’t marry a woman who didn’t have a good character to go along with the rest of her.”
“Hmph!” was Maggie’s sullen comment as she picked up her fork and began to swirl it through her mashed potatoes.
Mrs. Mullins, their housekeeper, came in from the kitchen at that moment, and looked at Maggie’s plate in surprise.
“What’s the matter, honey?” she asked in concern. “Are you sick, or is there something wrong with the food?”
Maggie glanced at her half defiantly, half guiltily. “No, it’s all right,” she said grudgingly. “I’m just not hungry. May I be excused, please?” she turned to her father and asked, giving him a stubborn look.
Sonny hesitated, then shrugged. “You may,” he said dryly, not seeing the sense of forcing Maggie to eat when she didn’t want to.
Maggie promptly pushed her chair back, and without giving Sonny his usual kiss, flounced off toward the stairs to ascend to her room. Mrs. Mullins looked after her, her kindly face creased with concern. “Don’t worry about her, Mrs. Mullins,” Sonny said as he got to his feet. “She’s simply upset because I have a date tonight.”
Mrs. Mullins immediately brightened. “That’s right, you do,” she said in a pleased way as she began to gather up Maggie’s dishes. “And I hope you have a wonderful time, Dr. Strotherton. It’s been too long since you had a chance to enjoy yourself.”
Sonny had every intention of enjoying himself, and he was glad Mrs. Mullins, at least, seemed to be on his side, even if his daughter wasn’t.
“I wouldn’t throw her food away if I were you, Mrs. Mullins,” he said, grinning as he headed for the front hall to collect his coat. “If I know my Maggie, she’ll be back downstairs in an hour or so, starved for her dinner.”
“I wasn’t going to, Doctor,” Mrs. Mullins responded dryly. “I know our Maggie, too.”
Laughing, determinedly putting his problem with Maggie aside for the moment, Sonny headed for an evening he was hoping would be the best few hours he’d spent in over two years.
Elizabeth eyed herself skeptically in the full-length mirror in her bedroom, wondering if she’d overdone it.
She was wearing a black velvet evening outfit consisting of a bolero jacket, a long, full skirt, and a white silk blouse trimmed with multicolored Mexican embroidery. She had a hat that went with the outfit, but not the courage to wear it—at least not tonight—not with Sonny Strotherton, the ultimate stuffed shirt.
She frowned as she realized there was no reason in the world why she should worry one whit whether Sonny Strotherton approved of her appearance or not. This was the first and the last date she intended to have with him, and if she hadn’t been such a fool as to fall for his handsome exterior and charming manner, she wouldn’t even be going on this one!
“Forewarned is forearmed,” she muttered, hoping against hope that her words would stick rather than go flying off into the wind at the first glance she had of Sonny in a tuxedo.
As she grabbed up her evening purse and headed downstairs, Elizabeth counted her blessings that the Foursome had left late that afternoon for an engagement in Philadelphia. Danny had wanted to give Darla a chance to rehearse in the hall where they would be playing tomorrow, and though Darla had been somewhat insulted by his lack of confidence in her, she hadn’t said anything except to Lissa.
“I’m going to knock his socks off!” she had whispered to her newfound friend as they left.
Elizabeth had nodded firmly and patted her shoulder in an encouraging manner. “You bet, you will!”
Now, though she was grateful for her luck, Elizabeth couldn’t believe she had actually accepted an invitation from Sonny Strotherton without having a plan in mind to keep him from meeting Danny, Jay, and Darla . . . which was another good reason why she had no intention of ever accepting another invitation from Sonny.
Downstairs, she paced the living room in
a nervous manner until a sweep of light through the living room alerted her to the fact that Sonny had pulled into the driveway.
“Oh, God!” Elizabeth said out loud on an intake of breath and a sudden upsurge of panic. “Why did you ever say yes, you fool!”
When she opened the door to Sonny a few minutes later, however, she was the picture of calm serenity, an act that cost her a great deal of effort to accomplish.
“Good evening, Sonny,” she said lightly. “Come in. I’m ready. Just let me get my coat.”
She turned away from the door, leaving Sonny to shut it behind him and moved to the hall closet.
“You look beautiful tonight, Lissa,” Sonny said from directly behind her a second later, making Elizabeth jump.
“Oh . . . ah . . . thank you,” she said, barely glancing at him over her shoulder. “So do you,” she added unconsciously, not even aware of the revealing inappropriateness of her words, though they made Sonny grin.
He didn’t respond verbally, however, and he had his grin under control by the time Elizabeth had pulled a long, black cashmere cape from its hanger, and he reached to take it from her.
“Oh . . . thank you,” Elizabeth said, holding tightly on to her control.
Sonny couldn’t help himself. After placing the cape around Lissa’s shoulders, he let his hands rest far longer than necessary on her shoulders as the lovely scent of her hair and perfume filled his nostrils.
“You smell intoxicating,” he said, a softly gruff note in his voice.
“I’m glad you like it . . . it’s a new perfume I’m trying,” Lissa said faintly. She was becoming ever more nervous over Sonny’s closeness, and she stepped forward out of his reach. Turning, she attempted a bright smile. “Shall we go?” she suggested, and quickly headed for the door without waiting for Sonny’s reply.
As he followed her, Sonny was ruefully aware that he was going to have to take better control of his actions. Obviously, Lissa Farrell was the type of woman who didn’t appreciate overly precipitate advances from a man . . . except that they had worked for him in getting her to go to the concert with him, hadn’t they?