ice. The apparition skidded to a halt, jerked the bike onto its kick-stand and walked toward her. Long, loose strides. Tall boots crunching on the path. Tiny gold earring winking in one ear. Long brown hands hanging at his sides.
“Somebody call 911,” Lucia whispered.
He yanked off the mirror glasses and stared at Isabel. Dark brown eyes dragged down the length of her. Then he reached into the lingerie box on the table and plucked out the red silk teddy.
“Very nice,” he said in a rich drawl, inspecting the garment. “You were always a great dresser, Isabel.”
She snatched it away and thrust it into the box. “What are you doing here?”
He gave her the old cocky grin, the expression that used to make her go weak in the knees.
It still worked.
His looks had attracted her in the first place. She had been drawn to his aura of seductive danger, the faint sulkiness of his full lips, the powerful body as well tuned as his Harley. The long hair so thick and gleaming that she yearned to run her fingers through it.
The direction her thoughts had taken ignited a blush in her cheeks. “This really isn’t a good time.”
“There never was a good time for saying the things we should have said to each other,” he said with that lazy, Sunday-morning, stay-in-bed-all-day drawl. “But I figure it’s now or never.”
Her blush intensified. “Maybe you could come back later, after…” She let her voice trail off. Her mouth was dry, her thoughts scattered.
“Nope, Isabel, won’t work. We’ve got some unfinished business.” He hooked a thumb into the top of hisblack jeans and shifted his weight to one leg. “I figure you’d rather settle things in private, so you’d better come with me.”
With a force of will, she was able to drag her gaze from him. “Connie, this is Dan Black Horse.”
“Perfect,” Connie whispered helpfully. “Just perfect.” She sent Dan an adoring look. “I have all of your albums. I’ve been a fan for years. Too bad you’ve quit.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Dan said with effortless gallantry.
Connie gave Isabel’s shoulder a nudge. “Go ahead,” she said with sisterly wisdom. “If you’ve got something to settle with this guy, take care of it now, because next week it’ll be too late.” She lowered her voice and said, “If you weren’t my friend, I’d kill you for not telling me you knew Dan Black Horse.”
Isabel stooped to pick up her woven straw purse. “I won’t be long.” She forced her lips into a smile. “I’ll be all right, really.”
Dan Black Horse pivoted on a boot heel and led the way down the garden path. When they reached his bike, he eased it off the kickstand and held out a black, slightly battered helmet.
“No way,” she said, stiffening her spine. “I’ll follow you in my car.”
“Nope.” He plunked the helmet on her head and fastened the strap. “Where we’re going, you don’t want a car.”
She clenched her jaw to keep from screaming. Priorities, Isabel, she reminded herself. Keep the priorities straight. The most important thing was to avoid making a scene.
She heaved a sigh, hitched back her cotton skirt and got on the bike.
“Way to go, girl,” Connie murmured, not far behind her.
“We’ll go to the Streamliner Diner,” she told Dan tautly. “And I mean to be back by—”
The thunder of the large engine swallowed her words. He rolled forward, then opened the throttle. The bike jerked into motion.
Instinctively, her hands clutched low on his hips. A feeling of the forbidden seized her. She gritted her teeth, moved her hands to the cargo bar behind her and held on for dear life.
He wasn’t wearing a helmet, she observed as they turned onto the narrow wooded highway that bisected Bainbridge Island. Maybe a cop would pull them over.
Officer, I’ve been kidnapped by a man I swore I’d never see again.
But as they roared southward toward the quaint little township of Winslow, even the stoplights turned green,
“Somebody call 911,” Lucia whispered.
He yanked off the mirror glasses and stared at Isabel. Dark brown eyes dragged down the length of her. Then he reached into the lingerie box on the table and plucked out the red silk teddy.
“Very nice,” he said in a rich drawl, inspecting the garment. “You were always a great dresser, Isabel.”
She snatched it away and thrust it into the box. “What are you doing here?”
He gave her the old cocky grin, the expression that used to make her go weak in the knees.
It still worked.
His looks had attracted her in the first place. She had been drawn to his aura of seductive danger, the faint sulkiness of his full lips, the powerful body as well tuned as his Harley. The long hair so thick and gleaming that she yearned to run her fingers through it.
The direction her thoughts had taken ignited a blush in her cheeks. “This really isn’t a good time.”
“There never was a good time for saying the things we should have said to each other,” he said with that lazy, Sunday-morning, stay-in-bed-all-day drawl. “But I figure it’s now or never.”
Her blush intensified. “Maybe you could come back later, after…” She let her voice trail off. Her mouth was dry, her thoughts scattered.
“Nope, Isabel, won’t work. We’ve got some unfinished business.” He hooked a thumb into the top of hisblack jeans and shifted his weight to one leg. “I figure you’d rather settle things in private, so you’d better come with me.”
With a force of will, she was able to drag her gaze from him. “Connie, this is Dan Black Horse.”
“Perfect,” Connie whispered helpfully. “Just perfect.” She sent Dan an adoring look. “I have all of your albums. I’ve been a fan for years. Too bad you’ve quit.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Dan said with effortless gallantry.
Connie gave Isabel’s shoulder a nudge. “Go ahead,” she said with sisterly wisdom. “If you’ve got something to settle with this guy, take care of it now, because next week it’ll be too late.” She lowered her voice and said, “If you weren’t my friend, I’d kill you for not telling me you knew Dan Black Horse.”
Isabel stooped to pick up her woven straw purse. “I won’t be long.” She forced her lips into a smile. “I’ll be all right, really.”
Dan Black Horse pivoted on a boot heel and led the way down the garden path. When they reached his bike, he eased it off the kickstand and held out a black, slightly battered helmet.
“No way,” she said, stiffening her spine. “I’ll follow you in my car.”
“Nope.” He plunked the helmet on her head and fastened the strap. “Where we’re going, you don’t want a car.”
She clenched her jaw to keep from screaming. Priorities, Isabel, she reminded herself. Keep the priorities straight. The most important thing was to avoid making a scene.
She heaved a sigh, hitched back her cotton skirt and got on the bike.
“Way to go, girl,” Connie murmured, not far behind her.
“We’ll go to the Streamliner Diner,” she told Dan tautly. “And I mean to be back by—”
The thunder of the large engine swallowed her words. He rolled forward, then opened the throttle. The bike jerked into motion.
Instinctively, her hands clutched low on his hips. A feeling of the forbidden seized her. She gritted her teeth, moved her hands to the cargo bar behind her and held on for dear life.
He wasn’t wearing a helmet, she observed as they turned onto the narrow wooded highway that bisected Bainbridge Island. Maybe a cop would pull them over.
Officer, I’ve been kidnapped by a man I swore I’d never see again.
But as they roared southward toward the quaint little township of Winslow, even the stoplights turned green,
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