‘‘I like this one of you sitting by the pond reading a book,’’ he said, pointing to a black-and-white photo. ‘‘How old were you?’’
It embarrassed her a little, felt strangely intimate looking at photographs of herself with a man she barely knew. Especially Yana’s pictures, which seemed to capture the very soul of a person.
‘‘Eighteen, I think.’’ She shrugged. ‘‘It was a candid shot, taken with a telephoto lens from my aunt’s studio. She’s always sneaking around taking pictures of the family when we’re not looking. It drives us crazy.’’
To distract him, she pointed to another picture. ‘‘That’s my aunt.’’
‘‘She’s a beautiful woman.’’
With her dark hair and exotic looks, Yana Alexander, even at forty-eight, could still make men forget their own names and stumble over their feet.
‘‘She was in Spain at the time, photographing bull fighters,’’ Tina said. ‘‘One of the toreadors took her camera and shot this picture of her.’’
The man had also been her aunt’s lover, Tina knew, but she didn’t think she needed to mention that.
‘‘I see a resemblance,’’ Reid said thoughtfully.
It was all she could do not to roll her eyes. She had to give it to him. He was smooth as glass. ‘‘I don’t look anything like my aunt, Mr. Danforth.’’
‘‘You have her eyes.’’ He turned to study her face. ‘‘And her mouth.’’
Tina felt her pulse shudder when his gaze lingered on her mouth. Very smooth. It irritated her to no end that she was not immune to the man’s charm. But, in all fairness to herself, Reid Danforth was certainly not your average man. He was a prime male specimen, with just enough of an edge to make him a touch mysterious.
Working at the bakery, she came into contact with a lot of the local businessmen. Occasionally there’d be an exchange of harmless flirting or innocent banter. She’d even dated a couple of the men. She’d never thought it a big deal or wanted to take it any further.
With Reid, though, something told her it wouldn’t be quite so innocent or harmless. Warning flags were waving in her head, signaling her to take another road.
Still, she thought, lifting a brow and meeting his steady gaze, as long as she didn’t lose touch with reality—reality being the fact that there was no chance of any kind of relationship between them—then she had no reason to worry. She could hold her own against the likes of Reid Danforth.
She held out the key in her hand. ‘‘I believe you came here for this.’’
‘‘Are you hungry?’’
‘‘What?’’
‘‘Are you hungry?’’ he repeated. ‘‘I’m going to grab a burger down the street.’’
Not only smooth, she thought in disbelief, but he moved fast.
But then, she already knew that.
‘‘I made plans.’’ The fact that they’d been changed were none of his business. ‘‘But thanks, anyway.’’
One corner of his mouth tilted up, then he took the key and nodded. ‘‘See you tomorrow, T.’’
She frowned at the closed door after Reid left. How did he know her nickname? Unless…
She glanced at the vent beside the sofa. It did back up to the laundry room, she realized. On a groan, she closed her eyes. Had he heard her conversation with Rachel? If he had, then he knew she’d been lying about having plans.
Well, so what if he had? She crossed her arms and pressed her lips together. It wouldn’t hurt the man to find out that there might be a few women left in Savannah who weren’t completely taken in by that damn smile of his. You’re being ridiculous, she told herself. He’d asked her to get a burger with him. That was hardly what anyone would call a date, for heaven’s sake.
She knew she was overreacting and decided that was another reason to keep her distance. She’d known him less than a day, and already he’d seriously slanted her equilibrium.
But as she moved past an oval, wood-framed mirror on the wall, she stopped and looked at herself. Her eyes, then her mouth.
Just for a second she wondered.
Oh, for heaven’s sake. She shook her head and frowned.
‘‘Idiot,’’ she said out loud, and wasn’t certain if she was speaking to herself or Reid.
Three
A cup of coffee in his hand, Reid stepped out of his car the next morning and breathed in the titillating smells wafting on the cool, predawn air. Though the lights were not yet on in the bakery or the Open sign in the window, it was obvious that while most of the city was still sleeping, Ivan Alexander was busy baking for the day ahead.
On the deserted sidewalk, Reid paused and glanced up at Tina’s apartment. A soft light edged the closed blinds, and he wondered if she’d already left for work or if she was still up there.
He had an odd feeling that she was.
It was strange, but he’d had the same feeling yesterday, when he’d been standing on the sidewalk with the furniture rental people. The blinds had been partially open, and though he hadn’t actually seen her, he’d felt her. Sort of a prickling sensation at the base of his neck.
Weird, he thought, then laughed at himself.
Letting himself in the front door, he flipped on the overhead lights and glanced around. The movers had brought in ten desks yesterday, plus filing cabinets and tables. Phones lines would be hooked up this morning and computers would be installed in the early afternoon. He had set up two private offices in the back, one for himself and one for Nicola. Since she was his father’s campaign manager, she’d be the one running the show.
Hands on his hips, he stood in the middle of the room that would soon be filled with volunteers and family and he listened to the absolute quiet.
A floorboard creaked above his head and he looked up, followed the sound across the ceiling. So she was upstairs. Leaning back against a desk, he sipped on his coffee and stared at the ceiling.
Had she just gotten out of bed? he wondered. An image of tangled sheets, tousled, golden-brown hair and sleepy eyes came to his mind.
His blood stirred at the thought.
Was she the cotton pajama or silk nightie type? Or maybe, he thought with a smile, she slept in the buff.
That thought stirred more than his blood.
Maybe it was for the best that she’d turned down his offer to get something to eat last night. The woman was a distraction, something he didn’t need right now. Something he didn’t want.
Still, he thought, listening to the sound of her moving around upstairs, a guy could dream, couldn’t he? He took another swig of coffee. No harm in that.
Movement on the sidewalk outside the front window caught Reid’s attention. A man who looked familiar hurried past, and Reid recognized him as one of the counter clerks from the bakery. The guy with the blond ponytail. A moment later the sound of a door buzzer filtered down through the vent upstairs. The man hadn’t gone to the bakery, Reid realized. He’d gone upstairs.
Reid frowned. A little early to come visiting, wasn’t it?
He heard the sound of footsteps moving to the door, muffled voices, then movement again toward—Reid furrowed his brow to remember the layout of the apartment—the sofa, he guessed. Or the bedroom?
Pushing away from the desk, Reid moved closer to the vent and listened. Though it was hard to hear everything, he could distinguish between Tina’s