by Gina Wilkins
She arrived at her office Monday morning in a very good mood, feeling like a woman who was involved in an intense, heart-stopping, teeth-rattling affair with a totally amazing man. It was so unlike her—so far from her usual casual routines—but it felt wonderful.
Everyone should have the opportunity to feel this way at least once. As for how she would feel when it ended—well, there was no need to spoil her good mood by dwelling on the future.
When a delivery of crimson roses arrived at her office that afternoon, she could only shake her head in exasperation. She was a bit surprised to find that Scott had broken his usual pattern and enclosed a card this time. Still no signature—only a brief message: I can’t stop thinking about you.
How sweet, she thought, touching a fingertip to one velvety petal. She didn’t know why it always surprised her so much when he sent her roses. She should be used to it by now—but it always caught her off guard. For some reason, the deliberately anonymous gesture just didn’t seem like Scott—which only illustrated how much she had yet to learn about him.
Because they wouldn’t be seeing each other that evening, she picked up the phone and dialed his office number, taking a chance on catching him. She was pleased to do so.
“Hi, beautiful. You caught me just before I have to leave for court.”
A ripple of pleasure went through her in response to his deep voice. Savoring the feeling, she replied, “I won’t keep you. I only wanted to thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Um…what did I do?”
She wrinkled her nose, thinking that Scott always found time to tease. “You sent roses—again. And it was very nice of you.”
“I sent roses?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Didn’t you?”
She heard him clear his throat. “As much as I would like to take the credit, I’m afraid I can’t. The last time I gave you roses was when you had pizza with me, right after I was sick. I assume those aren’t the ones you called me about.”
Her gaze turned slowly to the deep red blooms, seeing them now in an all-new light. “But you sent the others, right?”
“I gave you some on our first date, on Valentine’s Day,” he answered uncertainly.
“You didn’t have any roses delivered to my office?”
“I’m afraid not. What’s going on, Lydia?”
She sank heavily back into her chair. “I’ve had three deliveries of roses here during the past couple of months. None of them were signed. I just assumed…”
“You assumed I sent them.”
“Yes.” She was a little embarrassed now that she’d taken so much for granted.
“I wish I had. You say they weren’t signed? No messages?”
“Nothing at all on the first two deliveries. There, um, was a brief message with the arrangement today. But it still isn’t signed.”
“What does it say?”
“Well…”
“Lydia, what does it say?”
Her cheeks burning, she read him the message.
There was a pause, and when he spoke again, his voice was very serious. “Do you know who could be sending them?”
“I haven’t a clue. That’s why I thought it must be you.”
“When did you get the first ones?”
She thought back. “The Monday after Larissa’s party.”
“And the next time?”
“Two weeks, maybe ten days later. I don’t remember exactly. Before you were ill.”
“So that’s why you acted so oddly when I gave you the flowers when we shared the pizza. I couldn’t understand why you acted like I had given you so many when, as far as I knew, it was only the second time.”
“I hardly even remember the last time anyone gave me roses before you,” she admitted frankly. “That’s why I never imagined I was getting them from two different people.”
“And you don’t even have a clue who the other person could be?”
“I really don’t,” she answered. “The only men I’ve even spent time with lately are you, and that one meal with Cameron—”
“I doubt that it was Cameron. It’s just not his style.”
“I never thought so, either. Other than that, there was just that one evening with Charlie’s friend, Gary Dunston.”
“The bookstore guy.”
“Yes.”
“He was a little strange, Lydia. You have to admit that.”
“Yes, I know. That’s why I told him there was no reason for him to ask me out again. I tried to be polite, but I made it clear I’m not interested in dating him.”
“He could be trying to change your mind.”
“With anonymous deliveries? It doesn’t seem likely.” But who else could it be? She shook her head in frustration, thinking that this was all very strange—and a little spooky.
“What’s the name of the florist?”
She read him the name from the delivery card. “Why?”
“I’ll ask around. I don’t much like this—for several reasons,” he confessed wryly. “Be careful, okay, Lydia? It’s probably nothing to worry about, but still, keep an eye out.”
“I doubt that it’s a crazy stalker, Scott. There’s no need to overreact.”
Her downplaying of the anonymous deliveries didn’t seem to reassure him. “Is there anyone in any of your classes who’s been trying particularly hard to get your attention? Hanging out in your office, maybe, or lingering too long after class?”
She thought about it, then shook her head. “No, not that I can think of. I have a good relationship with several of my students, but nothing out of the ordinary.”
“Be thinking about it. And maybe you should ask your sister a few more questions about Gary.”
“I will. You’d better get to court, Scott. You don’t want to be late. Don’t worry about this, okay? There’s sure to be a perfectly harmless explanation.”
“You’re probably right.” She wished he sounded more convinced.
Chapter Thirteen
When Lydia’s doorbell rang that evening, she assumed she would find Scott standing on the other side of the door. He’d told her he had a meeting that would last very late, which was why she hadn’t expected to see him. Had her call about the roses made him so uneasy that he’d ducked out of his meeting early?
If so, she was going to have to talk to him. She had told him earlier that there was no need to make too much of this, even if it was a little bizarre. She didn’t want to interfere with his work—hadn’t that been the very foundation of their relationship?
But when she looked through the peephole, it wasn’t Scott’s face she saw. Acting more on impulse than caution, she opened the door. “Gary. What are you doing here?”
The perpetually diffident bookstore owner gave her a nervous smile. “I brought you a present,” he said, holding out a wrapped package. “It’s a new book. It’s by a reputable scientist in your field, one you’ll agree with more than the author you met when you visited my bookstore, I think.”
“That was very thoughtful of you, Gary, but certainly not necessary.”
“I wanted to do it,” he said earnestly. “I’d still like to make it up to you that you were so uncomfortable in my establishment.”
Blocking the doorway with her body, she shook her head, making no effort to reach out for the gift he’d brought her. “Please don’t give it another thought.”
“I can’t seem to help it. Maybe if things had gone better that evening, you would have given me another chance to see you, to get to know each other better.”
She almost groaned. “Really, Gary, that had nothing to do with it. I’m sure you’re a very nice man, but I’m afraid I’m just not—”
Gary broke in with a renewed intensity. “Larissa thinks you and I would be good together. She told me so before she introduced us at her party. As soon as I saw you, I knew she was right. I’ve admired Larissa since Charlie first introduced me to her, after he and I met and became friends at my store. I’ve always regretted t
hat he met her first, actually. And then, when I heard she had a sister…”
Lydia almost groaned. This guy was even stranger than she’d first thought. “Have you been sending roses to my office, Gary?” she asked although she already knew the answer.
His face brightened. “Yes. You knew they were from me, didn’t you? Larissa mentioned that roses were your favorite flower. Did you like them?”
“I’m going to have to be blunt with you, Gary. I’d rather you didn’t send me any more flowers, or call or come by again. There’s really no reason to do so. I’m simply not interested in going out with you. I’m sorry if that hurts you, but—”
Perhaps she had allowed his generally meek and harmless appearance to mislead her. It had never seriously entered her mind that he could be a real threat to her.
She was, apparently, more naive than she’d realized. Moving more forcefully than she ever could have expected, Gary shoved against the door, causing Lydia to stumble out of the doorway. He was inside before she could stop him. She heard the door close hard and felt apprehension grip her for the first time since he had rung her doorbell.
She made a quick move toward the door. He moved in front of it, blocking her, his expression beseeching. “If you’ll only listen to me, I’m sure you’ll understand that you’ve misjudged me,” he said, his voice still unexpectedly soft. “You haven’t really given us a chance.”
On the rare occasions when she had to face angry and defiant students—only a time or two when she’d refused to give passing grades for failing work—she’d found the best course of action was to stand firm and show no uncertainty. Drawing on that experience, she kept her voice steady and deliberately professorial when she spoke. “You aren’t helping your case with this behavior, Gary. Please leave now.”
He didn’t seem to be in the least affected by her authoritative tone. “Not until you hear me out.”
“Must I call the police and have you escorted from my home?”
His face flushed, making him look even more agitated. “I’d really rather you didn’t.”
Maybe she was handling this the wrong way. Gary wasn’t a frustrated student, but a rejected suitor. Perhaps he would respond better to compassion. “You have to understand that it isn’t personal,” she said, attempting a small smile. “I think you’re very nice. But I’m involved with someone else.”
“That lawyer?”
She nodded. “Yes. Scott Pearson. You met him at Larissa’s party. He’s a very special man in my life—and I’m expecting him any minute, actually, so—”
“He’ll hurt you. Larissa said so.”
“She was wrong. She didn’t know him well then and thought I was still available to meet other people. But she knows now that Scott and I are together and she’s accepted it very well. She likes Scott—she even sold him one of her paintings.”
Stubbornly, Gary shook his head. “I don’t like him. He’s a shark. Men like that take what they want and move on. They can’t be trusted.”
“You really don’t know him. Scott’s not like that.”
“The lawyer wants you because you’re beautiful, but you need someone who truly appreciates you. Your mind, your spirit, your soul…”
Lydia blinked. This was definitely getting weird. Even his implication that she was the kind of woman a man would pursue just because she looked good on his arm was crazy. She wasn’t that type.
Gary took a step toward her. “He isn’t right for you, Lydia. You should trust your sister on this. Trust me.”
“I believe it’s up to me to decide whether he’s right for me or not.”
“We’re only trying to protect you. We want to keep you from being hurt.”
“I appreciate your concern,” she lied, taking a step backward toward the telephone. “But it really isn’t necessary.”
Still moving toward her, he went on as if he hadn’t heard. “I understand why you’re attracted to him. Men like him are always surrounded by women who are susceptible to their looks and their charm and their well-practiced words. Do you know how much experience it must have taken for him to become so good at seduction, Lydia? How many women he must have used and discarded along the way?”
Because similar thoughts had crossed her mind a time or two and because she hated hearing them echoed by Gary, Lydia scowled. “I promise I’ll think about your warning,” she assured him, trying to stay calm. “Now please go, Gary. You’re making me uncomfortable.”
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I told you—I want to talk to you. To protect you.”
The only person she needed protection from right now was standing three feet away from her. She wondered if she could dial 9-1-1 before he could get the phone away from her. Her heart was beating so hard she thought he could probably hear it. She knew it was almost deafening her. “Gary, I—”
The doorbell chimed, cutting through her words. She looked quickly toward the door, thinking she’d never heard a more welcome sound.
Gary sighed heavily. “That’s probably the lawyer.”
“Yes, I’m sure it is. Um—may I open the door?” she asked warily, uncertain of what he might do if she tried to move too quickly.
He looked first surprised, then saddened by her question. “You really don’t understand me, do you, Lydia? I’m no threat to you. I only wanted to talk.”
“The way you burst in here—”
“I didn’t mean to frighten you. I wanted you to listen to me.” He shook his head, suddenly morose again. “I’m not very good with women. Not like him.”
He could say that again.
The doorbell rang again, followed by a quick rap on the door and Scott’s muffled voice. “Lydia? It’s Scott.”
“You’d better let him in,” Gary suggested glumly.
She all but threw open the door. “Scott,” she murmured in relief, reaching out to draw him in, “I’m glad you’re here.”
He spotted Gary immediately. Tensing, he pulled Lydia close to his side and narrowed his eyes at the other man. “What the hell are you doing here?” His voice was very soft.
“I brought Lydia a gift from my store.” Gary indicated the package in his hands as he sidled toward the door. “I was just leaving.”
“Damn straight you are. Has he been bothering you, Lydia?”
“He…um…wanted to talk. I heard what he had to say and asked him to leave.”
Scott nodded without ever taking his eyes off Gary. “Is there any reason for him to ever return?”
“No. We’ve said all we need to say.”
“You heard her, Dunston. I don’t want to see you here again. Lydia and I are together, and I don’t appreciate other men bringing her presents. So take your gift with you when you go.”
His head bobbing, Gary stepped through the open doorway. “I’m sorry if I disturbed you, Lydia. But I do hope you’ll think about what I said.”
She didn’t want to give him the encouragement of a response. She simply stood close by Scott’s side and watched Gary leave. He closed the door behind him.
Scott turned immediately to Lydia. “Are you all right? You’re pale.”
“He unnerved me,” she admitted. “He’s a very strange man, Scott.”
“Why did you invite him in? I told you—”
“I didn’t exactly invite him in. He sort of pushed past me after I asked him to leave.”
“He forced his way in?” Scott’s face darkened. He seemed poised to move toward the door. “Why, that—”
Lydia put a hand on his arm to deter him. “Just let him go, Scott. Yes, he frightened me a little, but I’m not sure he intended to. He’s just…weird. And intense.”
“I don’t trust him.”
Slowly beginning to relax now that the incident seemed to be over, Lydia managed a weak smile. “That’s what he said about you.”
“If he comes near you again, I’ll break his face.”
She sighed and shook her head. “Cool the testosterone, pal,” she murmure
d, pushing a hand through her hair. “You’re a lawyer. You know you can’t go around breaking faces.”
“Okay. But I can help you slap a restraining order on him.”
“That sounds like a much more practical course of action, if necessary.” She let her hand fall to her side. “I think I’ll make some tea. Do you want some?”
He was still almost quivering with the desire to take action. He forced his angry gaze away from the door, searching Lydia’s face instead. “You’re sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine. Just…shaken,” she admitted.
He reached out to pull her into his arms, giving her a warm, bracing hug. “I’m sorry.”
Clinging to him, she buried her face in his shoulder. “I’m just glad you’re here,” she murmured, her voice muffled. “What happened to your meeting?”
“I left early. Ever since I talked to you this afternoon, I’ve been uneasy. I wanted to check and make sure you were okay.”
“I’m sorry I interfered with your work, but I’m very glad you came when you did. Maybe Gary would have left without causing any further trouble, but I’m glad I didn’t have to put it to the test.”
He buried his hand in her hair and lifted her face to his. “So am I. If that guy wants to bother you again, he’s going to have to go through me.”
He lowered his mouth to hers before she could chide him again for his macho attitude. Giving up any last attempt to appear unfazed by the incident, she wrapped her arms around his neck and burrowed into his kiss.
His hands were warm against her back, offering comfort. Tenderness. Friendship.
And then the embrace changed. The kiss deepened. And Lydia was reminded that this man was more than her friend. He was her lover.
He slid his hands down her back to her hips, pulling her more snugly against him. He wanted something, she realized with a faint smile, but it wasn’t tea. Testosterone was still pumping—and she thought she could put it to better use than breaking Gary’s face.
“Since you missed your meeting, you probably have a couple of free hours,” she murmured, keeping one arm looped around his neck as she lifted her free hand to his cheek.
“A couple,” he agreed, the smile slowly returning to his eyes.