“Dinah, dear, are you in there?” her mother asked, rapping on the door, then entering without waiting for an invitation.
Dinah clicked off the TV, almost relieved by the distraction, though her mother rarely sought her out without some ulterior motive. “Did you need something, Mother?”
“I just wanted to let you know that I thought we’d dress for dinner tonight.”
They hadn’t adhered to the old formality in years. “Why?” Dinah asked suspiciously.
“Because we don’t do it nearly often enough anymore.” Her expression turned nostalgic as she sat on the edge of the bed. “When I was growing up, my parents insisted on dressing up every single night. I guarantee you none of us ever showed up at the table in jeans and T-shirts. Your father and I started out following the old tradition, but we lost the habit somewhere along the way.”
Dinah regarded her mother with increased suspicion. She didn’t believe for a second that this was some whim to recapture the glory of the old days. “Are we having company? You promised me there would be no more dinner parties.”
“No,” her mother insisted. “I just thought it would be nice for all of us to come to the table looking our best for a change.”
Dinah had a hunch this was her mother’s polite way of pointing out that she’d gotten in the habit of dressing like a careless slob. “Maybe I’ll just have dinner in my room,” she suggested, trying out the idea to see if she could get away with it.
Her mother looked genuinely scandalized. “Absolutely not. I will not have Maybelle trudging up these stairs with a tray at her age, when you’re perfectly able to come down to dinner. I’m ashamed that you would suggest such a thing.”
“I could come down and get my own tray,” Dinah replied defensively.
“That’s not the point. Dinner’s at seven. I expect you to be there,” her mother said emphatically, then walked out and shut the door firmly behind her.
Dinah stared after her in shock. What on earth had that been about? Maybe her mother wanted Dinah downstairs as a buffer between her and Dinah’s father. If that was it, she could hardly say no. She resigned her self to dressing up. Heck, maybe she would even feel marginally less depressed if she went to the effort to put on something pretty and added a little lipstick and mascara.
It had been days since she’d felt the need to do anything more than change into her swimsuit and sit by the pool, then come inside and stare at the TV. In her room she didn’t have to deal with anything at all, and the atmosphere was such a far cry from the spartan hotel rooms in which she’d been living that she could almost pretend that the past ten years had never happened.
The pattern of pretense was so unlike her, even she was beginning to wonder if she didn’t need help. Her spur-of-the-moment trip in search of Bobby had been an anomaly. Given how badly it had gone, she doubted she’d do anything impulsive again anytime soon.
She searched her closet till she found the perfect little black dress that had been her all-purpose date dress overseas. It was wrinkle-proof and fit like a dream. Peter’s eyes had bugged out the first time he’d seen her in it.
“You look like a girl,” he’d exclaimed in what had to be the most awkward compliment ever delivered.
Recalling that moment, Dinah sat on the edge of the bed and let the memories of that night flood over her. It had been their first real date after months of working together. He’d invited her to dinner and, unlike all the other meals they’d shared, they weren’t surrounded by other correspondents. He’d even found a restaurant that still used real tablecloths and added the romantic ambiance of candlelight.
For the first time ever talk of work gave way to a sharing of more personal details. It had been the most comfortable first date Dinah had ever had because they were already colleagues who had a deep respect for each other’s work. Yet she had known without question from the very first moment that they would become something more that night.
She remembered Peter’s first kiss as if it had happened only yesterday. It had been gentle and had made her suddenly see all the possibilities of what could be between them.
In all the months that had followed, however, one thing had been missing. Never once had they talked about the future, because in the places where they worked, the only guarantee was the present. At the time, she’d understood completely, but now it made her unbearably sad to think that neither of them had ever believed they would have a happily-ever-after ending.
A tear tracked down her cheek, but she brushed it away impatiently. She knew as well as anyone how impossible it was to change the past.
Hurrying now, she splashed cold water on her face, fixed her makeup, then went downstairs just in time to hear the doorbell ring.
“I’ll get it,” she called out, wondering if there was company coming for dinner after all. When she opened the door and found Cord on the threshold wearing a suit, her mouth gaped. “You!”
He grinned, clearly not the least bit insulted by her undisguised dismay.
“Definitely me the last time I checked,” he confirmed cheerfully.
She studied him with a narrowed gaze. “Did my mother invite you for dinner?”
“No.”
“Then why are you here?” she asked ungraciously. “Are you dropping off some papers or something?”
He held up his empty hands. “No. Want to check my pockets, too?” he inquired, a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“You wish,” she muttered, then asked again, “What are you doing here?”
“I came to get you. You look fabulous, by the way. I love that dress.”
“Excuse me? I’m confused. Did we have plans that I forgot about?” She knew perfectly well they didn’t. Her resolution to avoid Cord wasn’t that old. She hadn’t broken it yet.
“Nope. I just got to thinking about going appointment and I couldn’t think of anyone I’d rather go with than you.”
“So you just showed up without even calling? How rude is that?”
“I called,” he protested. “I know something about manners, sugar.”
Alice in Wonderland had nothing on Dinah. She felt as if she’d tumbled straight down that rabbit’s hole, too. “I know with absolute certainty that you and I never spoke on the phone, Cordell.”
“Actually, it was your mother I spoke to. She said you didn’t have plans for tonight.”
Dinah was finally beginning to get the picture. “So, you made these plans with my mother,” she said. “And that’s why she insisted I dress for dinner.”
She wasn’t sure which one of them she should be more furious with, her mother for tricking her or Cord for assuming that she would just go along with this crazy scheme of his.
“Well, since you and my mother seem to be getting along so well, I suggest you take her appointment,” Dinah said. “I do not want to go out with you, Cordell.”
“Your daddy might not appreciate me stealing his woman, even for an evening, and while I’m quite sure your mother could keep up with me, you’re the one I want to take out.”
She frowned at him. “As flattering as that is, I’m not interested.”
“In appointment or in me?”
“Either one,” she assured him.
“Really?” He regarded her with blatant skepticism.
Without another word, he reached for her and before she realized his intention, he swept her around and into his arms, did a quick couple of dance steps, then dipped her. Her head was already spinning, when he leaned down and kissed her. His lips never left hers as he set her back upright. His mouth was a masterful thing, persuasive and demanding all at once.
Dinah let herself melt into the heat and tenderness she felt in him. Her hands clung to his shoulders, then moved to his cheeks that were rough under her fingers, even though she had no doubt at all that he’d shaved be fore leaving home. He was simply one of those men who’d always look just a bit disreputable and unkempt in the most masculine way possible. There were movie stars who probably had to
spend hours in makeup to achieve that look.
Maybe Maggie was right. Maybe she was nuts for turning her back on Cord.
“Gotcha,” he murmured. “Now let’s talk about appointment.”
“I don’t want to talk about appointment. I don’t want to go appointment. In fact, I do not want to go anywhere with you,” she repeated, though with slightly less conviction than she had before. She couldn’t deny that in five seconds he had made her feel alive again, but she wasn’t entirely sure she appreciated it. “I don’t appreciate you and my mother conspiring behind my back as if I’m some kid who doesn’t know her own mind.”
Cord nodded slowly. “I suppose we could go to your room and finish what we just started, since that did seem to interest you, but I think that might be pressing my luck with your mama’s tolerance.”
She could tell he was partly serious. “You are outrageous, you know that, don’t you?”
He grinned. “Something tells me that you need to get stirred up, Dinah. You’re used to taking chances. Take this one. It’s just appointment and a good meal.”
Maybe it was what she needed. It was certainly better than sitting in her room watching one of the nightly reality TV shows where people actually had fun doing disgusting things like eating worms. Even appointment with Cord had to be preferable to that.
Before she could utter her decision, her mother swept in, looking innocent as a lamb. “Why Cord,” she said, surprise written all over her face. “I had no idea you were here.”
Dinah rolled her eyes. “Can the act, Mother, though I must admit if you’d ever decided to go on stage, I’m sure you would have excelled. The secret’s out. I know you two plotted this.”
“Plotted what?” her mother asked, still maintaining the charade.
“To get me down here in a dress so I’d be all ready when Cord showed up.”
Her mother beamed. “You do look lovely. The dress is very flattering. Where are you two going?”
“We were just about to decide,” Cord said. “Ballroom appointment, disco night, or line appointment, Dinah?”
“Let me see,” she said thoughtfully. “Which one will give me more opportunities to step all over your feet?”
Cord grinned impudently. “You’re selling me short, sugar. I’ve been dodging women’s feet for a good long time now.”
“Yes, I imagine you have. Perhaps if you weren’t so pushy, it wouldn’t happen nearly so often.”
Dinah heard a strangled laugh and turned to see her mother trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile. “What?” Dinah demanded.
“It’s just that it’s so wonderful to see those sparks back in your eyes,” she said. “I think Cord is good for you.”
Dinah didn’t like the gleam in her mother’s eyes one bit. “Don’t get any ideas, Mother. The only thing Cord is good for is infuriating me.”
He gave her a bland look. “Is that so? I thought I’d just proved otherwise.”
Dinah avoided her mother’s fascinated gaze. “If we’re going, let’s go before I come to my senses.”
“Anything you say, sugar,” Cord said meekly, then ruined the effect by winking at her mother.
Dinah turned to her mother. “If I come home driving his car and all alone, you’ll know I’ve dumped his body in a ditch. Call a lawyer for me.”
“Happily,” her mother said. “But something tells me it won’t come to that.”
That had gone well, Cord thought as he drove toward the club that had eventually been Dinah’s choice. He was pretty sure her threats had been idle ones, especially after she’d responded to his kiss with so much passion.
Then again, passion tended to make women unpredictable creatures. Just to be safe, he wouldn’t turn his back on her for a minute. Not that he wanted to. She looked hot in that dress with most of her long legs exposed. Thinking about those legs had kept him awake more nights than he could count.
“You really do think you’re something, don’t you?” Dinah muttered as they neared their destination.
“In what way?”
“Because you talked me into this.”
“I consider myself lucky, that’s all,” he assured her.
She scowled at him. “Just don’t get any ideas.”
“Such as?”
“That this is a date. That the kiss meant anything. That I’m going to sleep with you.” She gave him a meaningful look. “Ever.”
He swallowed a chuckle. “I’ll keep all of that in mind.”
“Good.”
“Am I allowed to have a few fantasies?”
Her lips twitched. “Okay, fine. You can have all the fantasies you want as long as you don’t give one second’s thought to acting on them.”
“And what if you go crazy and try to seduce me? Am I supposed to resist?”
“It’ll never happen,” she retorted.
“You seducing or me resisting?”
“The seducing part, so your resistance will never be tested.”
“Too bad,” he said sorrowfully. “I have excellent willpower.”
Her expression suddenly sobered. “Why are you doing this, Cordell?”
“What? Teasing you? Because it’s so easy and it’s so much fun.”
“No, I meant why have you turned me into some sort of project all of a sudden. You don’t even like me.”
As he cut the car’s engine, he stared at her with genuine surprise. “Why would you say a thing like that?”
“The way you’ve been acting ever since I turned up out at your place. You made no attempt to hide your disdain for me or the fact that you think I’m all wrong for Bobby.”
“You’ve got things all wrong. As for me not liking the idea of you with my brother that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you,” he said emphatically. “In fact, there are a lot of things right about you.”
She regarded him wistfully. “Such as?”
“You really don’t know?” he asked, thoroughly bemused.
She shook her head.
“Now that really is pitiful,” he said sincerely. “Okay, let me lay it all out for you, Dinah, and I’m being sincere about this. This isn’t just flattery so I can lure you into my bed.”
“I think we’ve already established that would be a wasted effort,” she said wryly. “What do you see as my good qualities?”
To Cord’s surprise, she looked as if she were truly hanging on his words. Because of that, he chose his words carefully.
“You’re beautiful and smart and brave. You have legs that could drive a man wild.” He slanted a look at her. “Me included, in case you were wondering.”
Her lips curved slightly.
“Now, what else?” he said thoughtfully. “You’re confident…or at least you used to be. I have a hunch that will come back to you once you put whatever happened in Afghanistan behind you. You always knew what you wanted and you went after it without letting anybody stand in your way. Who would have believed that a sheltered debutante would wind up being an internationally famous war correspondent? With your looks and brains, you could have been an anchorwoman in some nice safe studio, but you chose something a lot of men don’t even have the guts to do. I admire that.”
“You do?”
“Well, of course I do. I can’t say I didn’t find it worrisome when I’d flick on the TV and see you five feet from where some car bomb had been detonated, but I was as proud to know you as I imagine your mama and daddy were.”
She seemed stunned by that. “What about now that I’m home? Are you disappointed in me?”
Cord turned the question right around. “Are you disappointed in yourself?”
“Yes,” she admitted in a small voice.
“Why?”
“I don’t know if I’m brave enough to go back.”
“Is that something you have to decide today or tomorrow?”
“No.”
“Then don’t worry about it until you have to. Concentrate on healing.”
She regarded him
with puzzlement. “I’m not injured.”
“Sure you are,” he said. “There’s more than one way to be wounded in a war, Dinah, and stitches don’t tidy up all kinds of wounds. And in case you still have doubts, neither will marrying the wrong man.”
He thought the conversation had gotten way too serious, even if she had needed to hear what he had to say. He deliberately winked at her. “Now, since you obviously have two perfectly good feet under you, let’s go inside and dance up a storm and forget all this, just for tonight. Let’s just be a couple of old…” He deliberately hesitated as his gaze locked with hers. “Acquaintances,” he said at last. “We’ll be a couple of old acquaintances having ourselves a good old time.”
She nodded slowly, looking relieved. “Think you can keep up with me, Cordell?”
“I’m going to give it my all, sugar. I am definitely going to give it my all.”
And, though it was too soon to say it, he was looking way beyond whatever tricks she could come up with on the dance floor, too. He wanted Dinah to start thinking of the two of them in terms of possibilities.
11
Dinah hadn’t danced—or laughed—so much since her debutante ball. In fact, this was better. Back then, she’d been filled with so much cynicism about the whole event that she’d hardly enjoyed the evening. The boy she’d taken had been awkward and as immature as most eighteen-year-old boys were. He’d had sweaty palms and pimples, as she recalled.
She glanced across the table and saw that Cord was studying her curiously.
“Taking a trip down memory lane?” he asked.
“How did you know?”
“For a woman who’s trained to keep her expression neutral on the air, you really don’t hide your emotions all that well. You looked a little sad.”
“Not sad,” she assured him. “Just thinking about my debutante ball debacle.”
“I thought that was the highlight of every little Southern girl’s life?”
The Backup Plan Page 14