Carter chose that moment to wink, a slow, seductive lowering of one eyelid that sent a hot shiver through her. She swallowed and turned back to Brian, giving him her best smile. “Um, I must have gotten my days mixed up. Maybe we could try again some other night?” Marcelle wouldn’t be happy about this, but Joni would think of something to tell her.
“Oh, well…” Brian glanced at Carter, who sat with arms folded across his chest, silent challenge in his eyes. “Uh, yeah. Maybe some other time.” Brian backed away from the table. “Uh, guess I’ll go now.”
When he was gone, Carter refilled her wineglass. “What now?” he asked.
She leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Now, you explain. Why didn’t you speak up when you realized what was happening?”
He smiled. A devastating grin that warmed her like a shot of good brandy. “Imagine you’re a man sitting in a restaurant, down in the mouth because once again you’re eating alone. Suddenly, a beautiful woman sits down at your table and announces she’s your date.” He shook his head. “I haven’t learned many lessons in my life, but I know that when the fates hand you a gift like that, you shut up and take it.”
His words sent another tremor through her middle. No one had ever referred to her as a gift before. She ran her fingers up and down the stem of her wineglass. “I’d think a cop would be too hard-nosed to believe in something as ephemeral as fate.”
“Then you’d be wrong. My persistence in believing nothing happens by chance has kept me safe and sane out there on the streets.”
The streets where he got his thrills chasing down the bad guys. Of course, somebody had to do that job, but that didn’t mean she had to get involved with them. “I still think you should have said something when I first showed up.”
“You’re here now. Your accountant is gone. We might as well enjoy ourselves.” As if on cue, a new song began. Carter offered his hand. “Would you like to dance?”
She stared at his outstretched fingers. “I…I don’t know how.” What a shameful thing for a grown woman to admit. G.P. had sent her to dance class when she was in junior high school, but Joni had played hooky every week, preferring to visit the zoo instead.
Carter stood and pulled her up beside him. “That’s all right. I’ll show you.”
Reluctantly, she allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor. G.P. would probably say her lack of dancing ability was one reason she was still single, but who had time for something as old-fashioned as dance lessons?
Apparently Carter Sullivan had taken the time. He moved with the assurance of someone at home on the dance floor. One hand rested at the small of her back, strong and reassuring, while the other helped to guide her in the steps. He leaned closer and whispered in her ear. “Relax. Feel the music.”
But all she could feel was him. His body pressed against hers, warm and strong, muscular without being overbearing. She could easily imagine this powerful man chasing down robbers, rescuing children, and performing all sorts of other heroic acts.
She’d obviously had too much wine if she was letting herself get caught up in such a romantic fantasy. After all, she knew well enough that for every hero spotlighted on the nightly news, there were loved ones standing in the shadows. And when the heroics were all over, the wife and kids were the ones who got hurt.
“Hey, it’s not that bad, is it?” He put his finger under her chin and tilted her head up. “You look like you lost your best friend.”
She raised her eyes to meet his, and too late realized her mistake. He had beautiful eyes—not black, but dark blue, almost violet. They looked at her with an intensity that made her feel, not physically undressed, but emotionally naked.
She looked away again, at her feet, and stumbled against him. “It’s all right,” he soothed, and pulled her closer.
She fought the urge to rest her head on his shoulder, to savor the feeling of his arms around her. Despite her misgivings about his profession, she had to admit that Carter Sullivan was one-hundred-percent attractive male. The kind of man any woman would admire.
“G.P. would love you,” she murmured.
He blinked. “Who is G.P.?”
She sighed. Now was as good a time as any for the story to come out. “G.P. is my grandmother Pettigrew. She never seemed like an ordinary grandmother to me when I was growing up, so I called her G.P.”
The music stopped and he led her back to the table. The dinner dishes had been cleared, replaced by a carafe of coffee and two demitasse cups. “I take it your grandmother likes cops?”
“Cops. Firemen. Soldiers. Pilots. Race-car drivers. If a job is dangerous or daring, she’s in love.”
“But she didn’t pass this love to her granddaughter.” His expression was serious, but his eyes laughed at her.
She added sugar to her cup. “Let’s just say I prefer someone who’s more…stable.”
He nodded. “That’s me, all right. Mr. Unstable. It’s a wonder they let me on the force.”
She made a face. “I get your point and I’m not going to argue with you. In fact, I hope you’ll agree to help me with something.”
His gaze on her had the intensity of a physical touch. “I’m listening.”
She leaned toward him, looking into his eyes. “Carter, I need a man. I need you.”
CARTER SWALLOWED HARD, sure he was back in dream world. Wasn’t this the same woman who’d said she didn’t like cops? Then again, she had chosen to stay with him instead of the accountant. And she hadn’t exactly protested when they’d cuddled up on the dance floor. He grinned. “So my devastating charm has won you over.”
She picked up a coffee spoon and studied her reflection in it. “Do you remember when I told you I had a lot on my mind?”
“Yes, and you were going to tell me about it, but you never got around to it.”
She glanced around them. “Let’s go somewhere a little more private and I’ll explain everything.”
He wasn’t too surprised when she tried to pay the check, but he pushed her credit card back into her hand. “Call me old-fashioned, but I’ll pay.”
She frowned. “That’s ridiculous. This wasn’t even your idea.”
When the waiter returned, Carter signed the credit card slip and tore off his copy. “Let’s just say my fragile male ego will be crushed if I let a beautiful woman, whose company I’ve enjoyed by the way, pick up the check.”
He wasn’t surprised to find her blushing again. Maybe he hadn’t lost his touch after all.
He walked her to her car. “Where do you want to go?” he asked.
“Here is fine.” She leaned against the driver’s-side door, facing him. “It’s just that this story is kind of embarrassing and I didn’t want anyone to overhear.”
“The suspense is killing me.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, though what he really wanted to do was hold her again.
She fiddled with a row of beads on her key chain. “In two days, my grandmother Pettigrew is coming to San Antonio for the sole purpose of finding a husband for me.”
He chuckled. “You’re not serious.”
“Serious as a heart attack. G.P. has decided it’s time I was married and once she makes a decision, there’s no stopping her.”
“Where do I come in?” He stood up straighter. “Not as the potential groom?”
“No!”