Thief of My Heart. Janice Sims

down in the tub. “Alone at last,” she said with a relieved sigh.

      * * *

      Decker arrived at five till eight. Desiree had forced her sisters to leave half an hour earlier. They had wanted to wait and see her off with Decker, a suggestion that she instantly vetoed. She had also put the low-cut dress that Lauren had picked out for her to wear tonight back in the closet, and had chosen a more modest style.

      When Decker rang the bell, she ran downstairs, purse and jacket in hand, and pulled open the door. His attention was drawn to something on the street, and when she opened the door his back was to her. He turned back around, smiling, and when he saw her, his smile broadened in appreciation. “Wow,” he said softly, his eyes running the length of her in the simple deep purple sheath dress with a black leather belt and a pair of black leather high-heeled sandals.

      Desiree self-consciously touched her shoulder-length wavy black hair, which she’d combed away from her heart-shaped face. “Too dressy?” she asked.

      Decker shook his head. “It’s not too anything,” he breathed. “It’s perfect. You look beautiful.”

      Desiree smiled her thanks. She stood a moment, taking him in. As she’d predicted, she wasn’t prepared for the effects of Decker in the flesh. The moment she opened the door and saw him standing there, his broad back to her, the first thing she’d experienced was the wonderful scent wafting off him. It was a fresh, woodsy, utterly male smell that made her momentarily weak in the knees. Then he’d turned around and faced her, and the full onslaught of a square-jawed, clean-shaven chestnut-brown face, with deep-set gray eyes that seemed so incongruous, yet so right, caused her heartbeat to accelerate.

      He looked wonderful in jeans, a short-sleeve shirt in cobalt blue, a black leather jacket and black Italian loafers. “You look great, too,” she said, suddenly shy.

      Smiling, Decker stepped forward and put her hand through his arm. “I hope you’re hungry because the restaurant we’re going to serves the best Italian food you’ll ever taste.”

      Desiree smiled up at him and let him lead her outside. He pulled the door closed and made sure it was locked before turning back around and peering down at her. “I have to be honest with you. I’m nervous.”

      Desiree laughed shortly. “Why? We’ve known each other for some time now.”

      His handsome face scrunched up in a frown. “Now that I’ve got you to go out with me, I don’t know if I can live up to your expectations.”

      Desiree stopped in her tracks at the end of the walk and looked up at him. “Before this night gets started, I want to put your mind at ease. I have no expectations, except to get to know you better.” She reached up and gently touched his cheek. “So just relax, okay?”

      Decker grasped the hand she’d touched him with and brought it to his mouth, kissing the palm. Desiree was shocked by how turned on she was just by the meeting of his lips with her palm.

      Unless she was reading him wrong, when he raised his head, his gray eyes glittered with intense longing. The look left her slightly breathless and unbalanced. She covered her weakness with an equally weak joke: “I hope you’re not taking me to a restaurant that serves tiny portions. I’m famished, and I’m not one of those women who eat like a bird.”

      Decker laughed, appearing more relaxed. “I’ve been watching you eat for a while now. I know you can put it away.”

      To which Desiree laughed, and took his hand. “Come on.” And they left the house.

      He helped her into the car, which was parked at the curb. Once she was in, he closed the door and quickly walked around to the driver side. Inside, he buckled up while she did the same; then he turned the key in the ignition and the car purred to life. John Legend’s latest CD was in the player. He reached over and turned the volume down. “Are you a fan?” he asked as he smoothly pulled away from the curb.

      Desiree sat back on the soft leather seat. “Yes, I like him, but I’m more of a blues girl.”

      “Like who?” Decker prodded.

      “Lots of artists, from those who come from the Mississippi Delta school when they used mostly acoustic guitars, to Chicago-style blues where the electric guitar replaced the acoustic,” she said. “I love B.B. King, John Lee Hooker, Buddy Guy, Etta James, Koko Taylor and newer blues artists like Gary Clark Jr., Robert Cray and Keb’ Mo’.”

      “Funny, I wouldn’t have pegged you for a blues lover,” Decker said, smiling at her briefly before returning his attention to the road. “I figured you for a smooth jazz aficionado. Or a Justin Timberlake fan.”

      Desiree laughed softly. “Goes to show you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.” She paused, looking at his profile in the dim light of the car. “That’s the same mistake I made with you,” she said.

      She heard Decker’s sharp intake of breath. She had probably shocked him by saying that.

      He exhaled. Clearing his throat, he looked into her eyes for a moment without saying anything. Then he continued driving for a couple more minutes before quietly saying, “It means a lot to me that you would admit that.”

      “I can admit when I make a mistake,” Desiree said, keeping her tone light even though she had filled up with emotion when she’d seen just how affected Decker had been by her confession.

      She figured now was as good a time as any to tell him why she’d changed her mind about going out with him. “Do you remember me telling you about Noel Alexander, the man I was engaged to?”

      He let out a nervous laugh. “How can I forget? It was the night I threw Colton a bachelor party at a strip club and some fool ran him down in the parking lot, almost killing him. That image isn’t going to leave my mind anytime soon.” He breathed deeply and exhaled. “But you comforted me at the hospital later that night.”

      “I could see that you were hurting,” Desiree said softly.

      “For me, it was the most hopeful night and the most disappointing where you were concerned,” he said. “You were so kind to me, and then you told me why you could never be with me. You had known true love, and you wouldn’t settle for less. And there I was, drunk, smelling like a distillery, feeling guilty because my cousin was lying in a hospital bed. I knew I didn’t stand a chance with you.”