“When do you want to get started?” he asked.
“The sooner the better, but I’ll need my equipment.”
“Tomorrow, then.”
She nodded. “I’ll be here first thing in the morning.”
“Better wait till afternoon. These kids are supposed to be in school in the morning,” he said dryly.
“But those in there—”
“Dropped out or were suspended. We’re working on getting them reenrolled. I don’t want to reward them by offering a special class in the morning. Make it four o’clock. That way, more kids will be here and I’ll have time to get some work done before I come out to pick you up and bring you in.”
“That’s not necessary. I can drive myself in.”
He shook his head. “I thought we’d settled that. On my turf, I make the rules.”
“I’m not one of your strays.”
“No, but you are here because I’ve made it possible,” he reminded her in a way that reaffirmed who held the power.
“It’s a public building,” she countered defiantly.
“You think you can get these old bricks to talk, go right ahead and try,” he retorted smoothly.
Dana sighed. “Okay, you’ve made your point. Four o’clock will be fine. Am I expected to sit in the corner until you’re free, or are you taking me home now?”
“No, I am not taking you home now. I’m taking you to lunch. You’ve lost too much weight. You’re obviously not eating.”
“How would you know a thing like that? You’ve never seen me before today.”
Before she realized what he intended, he reached out and snagged a chunk of material at her waist and tugged. There was at least an inch or better to spare.
“Evidence, Dana. Solid, irrefutable evidence.”
“Maybe I just like to wear my clothes loose.”
He grinned. “Give it up. You’re not going to win. Ken was very proud of your fashion sense. He often wished he could persuade you to teach these girls a thing or two about style.”
He had expressed the same wish to her on several occasions, but she had always dismissed the idea with one excuse or another. She had never realized that he’d shared those thoughts with Rick.
“He said you were too busy with other commitments,” Rick said, though it was clear he hadn’t bought the excuses.
“Okay, okay. Maybe I have lost a couple of pounds,” she conceded. “I haven’t felt much like eating.”
“Today you will,” he assured her. “I’m going to stuff you with black beans and rice, maybe a few enchiladas, maybe a taco or two.”
Despite herself, her mouth was watering. “Spicy?” she asked.
“If that’s the way you want them.”
“Is there any other way?”
He nodded approvingly. “See there, you and I do have one thing in common.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” she warned.
“Hey, I’ve always believed that the path to victory was to find the first little chink in your opponent’s armor.”
“Is that what we are? Opponents?”
“Aren’t we?”
For some reason that she didn’t care to explore too closely, Dana suddenly regretted the accuracy of his assessment, but she couldn’t dispute it.
“Yes,” she said softly. “I suppose that is exactly what we are.”
It was too bad, too. What she was in desperate need of these days was an ally.
7
Rick leaned back in the booth at Tico’s and studied the woman opposite him. He’d waited for disdain to fill her eyes all morning, first when she had met the kids at Yo, Amigo and minutes ago, when they had entered the tiny, unpretentious neighborhood restaurant. So far, she had surprised him.
She had been polite, if guarded, with the teenagers. Inside the door of Tico’s, she had drawn in a deep breath, and a positively rapturous expression had crossed her face. Once they’d found an available booth in the crowded room, she had grabbed the typed, laminated menu eagerly. For five minutes after that she had pestered him with questions about unfamiliar items.
She had ordered with such abandon that even the unflappable Tico had been startled. She would be stunned to discover that her meal would be enough to stuff a truck driver. Tico’s place might not be much for atmosphere, but he never stinted on his portions, especially not for a customer who demonstrated so much enthusiasm. Rick had had to hide his amusement at his friend’s bemused expression.
What a complex woman Dana Miller was, he thought, a little bemused himself as he watched her. This side of her was far too alluring, far too dangerous, when he was already having difficulty resisting the effect she had on his body.
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you that it’s not polite to stare?” she inquired, squirming just a little under his gaze.
He liked knowing that he could rattle her. “Not that I can recall,” he said, enjoying her uneasiness. She had caught him totally off-guard the night before. He figured it was only fair that he return the favor. “I don’t think it applied to circumstances like this, anyway.”
She regarded him quizzically. “And what circumstances would these be?”
“Two people each trying to figure out what makes the other one tick.”
“Is that what you’re trying to do?”
Rick smiled. “Aren’t you?”
“I already know what makes you tick, Mr. Sanchez,” she said with evident bitterness. “You have a passion for just one thing—that program that you have poured your heart and soul into.”
It was essentially true, but Rick was vaguely insulted just the same. No man liked to hear himself described as so one-dimensional. “You see no more in me than that?”
“Is there more?”
“Maybe we should let you discover my other passions as we go,” he said softly, and watched the color climb into her cheeks.
The taunt came as naturally as breathing, before he could stop himself. It drew a spark of pure fire in her eyes that intrigued him, despite his best intentions. Dana Miller was a woman with passions of her own. Whatever they might be, though, they were off-limits to him. Honoring his friendship to Ken demanded it.
“This isn’t personal between us,” she said, her teeth clenched.
“Oh, no? You blame me for the death of your husband. You want to destroy something I love, something I’ve worked hard the past few years to get off the ground. I’d say that makes it pretty personal, Dana.”
“I meant—”
He couldn’t resist trying to shock her. “You meant there would be no sex, isn’t that right?”
The pink in her cheeks deepened. “How crude of you to put it so bluntly.”
“I don’t waste a lot of time dancing around the obvious, if that’s what you mean.” He leaned forward. “As for the sex, I think it’s a little too soon to rule anything out.”
She glared at him. “You are every bit as despicable as I’d imagined, Mr. Sanchez. My husband is—”
“Dead,” he reminded her, then cursed