Nobody's Angel

Nobody'sAngel

Nobody's Angel by Sylvie Kaye

ISBN 1-55316-110-6 Published by LTDBooks www.ltdbooks.com

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Nobody'sAngel

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Nobody's Angel by Sylvie Kaye ISBN 1-55316-110-6 Published by LTDBooks www.ltdbooks.com Copyright © 2003 Sylvie Kaye Artwork copyright © 2003 Nathalie Moore Published in Canada by LTDBooks, 200 North Service Road West, Unit 1, Suite 301, Oakville, ON L6M 2Y1 All rights reserved. The use of any part of this publication reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written consent of the publisher is an infringement of the copyright law. National Library of Canada Cataloguing in Publication Data Kaye, Sylvie, 1947Nobody's angel [electronic resource] / Sylvie Kaye. Also available in print format. ISBN 1-55316-110-6 I. Title. PS3561.A9293N62 2003a813'.6C2003-904985-X

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Chapter 1 "I didn't think you'd show up." The man's voice rumbled low and slow, like thunder on a Nevada night in spring. A ripple ran up Kristabel Lewis's spine. What she wouldn't give for that voice to say those words in that tone to her. Tempting as his voice was she didn't bother to turn when a few moments later the man sat down next to her on the royal-blue enamel bench that faced the JC Penney department store. Krista nudged her hip away from the stranger with the tummy-dipping voice, inching over until the crunch of her shopping bags stopped her. She bent down and heeled the packages at her feet to further shove them under the bench. Even the large bag containing her new piece of luggage slid easily on the high-buffed, granite- colored tile. That's when she noticed a flash of red and yellow--up and down, up and down. The colorful sole of the man's long sneaker bobbed up and down on his knee. Krista had heard those tales about a man's manliness being judged by the size of his sneaker. This man must be one manly man. About a size twelve worth, she figured. She closed one eye and tried to make out the red and yellow pattern on the bouncing sneaker bottom. The colors seemed to form a dog of sorts. It looked to be a blurred greyhound. Her head wanted to bob in time with the dog, so she shifted her eyes upward. His bare ankle and a few sprigs of dark hair flashed at her wickedly. "Ahemm." That attention-getting rumble seemed directed at her, but she knew better. Krista didn't know any man with a voice that could make her insides quake. She sat up and crossed her misty-gray stockinged legs. Her hose matched her side-vented skirt, which promised to be this season's hottest color and this season's hottest length, or so the store clerk had assured her. Krista plucked at the sleeve of her red jacket. She'd just chalked up another successful shop- till-youfile:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (3 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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drop Saturday at the Kramesward Mall. Too bad she had nowhere to wear the hot outfit she'd gotten on sale today. Too bad she had nowhere to wear the last six outfits she'd gotten on sale. The only place she went lately, other than to the library where she worked, was to the mall in hot pursuit of yet another designer delight. But that was about to change with her new luggage. The suitcase was her birthday treat to herself. She figured that age thirty was past time to get on with her plans for her much dreamed about tour of all of the states. Krista crossed her arms and wagged her foot. After a moment her gaze drifted back to where she'd left off, the man's ankle, which bobbed faster now. Whoever he was waiting for had his jeans revving--his well-worn, well-washed, well-fitting jeans that covered his long, lanky legs. Another "Ahemm." Curiosity uncrossed Krista's legs as she pushed onward and upward. A red sweater hugged his broad chest. A few dark hairs flashed at her from its V neck and stopped her. She smiled at his neck. So far as she could see, the man was a lean, mean, sexy machine. "You aren't sorry you showed up, are you?" The man leaned forward. His face shadowed hers. There was no mistake. The sex machine was talking to her. Her eyes darted about. Not a soul within hearing distance. The man must've been talking to her all along. Obviously, a case of mistaken identity. She was about to tell him so when she faced off with him and her words froze. His dark blond hair, although cut short, seemed wily and unpredictable. So did his hazel eyes. The man couldn't be considered handsome. His lips were wide, same with his nose. His smile was crooked, but friendly. His face had a compelling charm about it, although it was his hazel- brown eyes that held hers in a time warp. "No, I'm not sorry," she mumbled, elbowing the packages on the seat beside her and pointing her gray suede toe at the large bags tucked beneath the bench. "I found bargains galore." "I bought socks. I forgot to pack them." His large hand crumpled a tiny bag. "You a bit of a shopaholic?" he asked in that low, rumble of a voice. "Yes." A bit wasn't exactly a lie, just a monumental understatement. Lately, shopping had become her social life, or rather her substitute for one. She bought stylish outfits with matching shoes or jewelry to wear on romantic dates with men that she had yet to meet and on her adventure around the country that file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (4 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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she had yet to begin. Until then, she stuffed them into her closet where hanger space was becoming something to die for. "You never mentioned the shopaholic part." His low rumble hinted of intimacy. She found that compelling, too. He slid his arm along the back of the metal bench, drawing her in further. She couldn't mention much of anything, what with her tongue and her mind doing flips over that voice of his. Not that she wanted to mention anything resembling the truth about the mix up just yet. She'd soak up a bit more of his mesmerizing voice and eyes first. "I, I don't overspend," she said at last. "I hunt out great sales." Dull, dull, dull. No wonder her recent dates didn't ask her out after the third movie. Of course, by the third date, if they hadn't lost interest, Krista had. She'd given up on dating until she perfected her flirting skills. But for the date magnet sitting next to her she'd forego the skills and wing it. Krista talked on. "I have no other hobbies." "I'm not into bowling or darts myself." His voice rippled through her. He grinned, a big friendly grin that rippled through her also. "I remember you saying you had no hobbies." She had? When? Never, that's when. This situation reeked of a blind date gone awry. Krista tugged at the lapel of her red jacket. Then she glanced again at his red sweater. Was that the signal color? She scanned the crowd for other women wearing red. She spotted two. One gray-haired woman with pumping elbows and very tight curls power- walked by. Her flashy red-and-silver metallic jogging suit never slowed down a pace. That pretty much ruled her out. The other was a teenager with green-streaked, orange hair and black lipstick. Her red sweater dangled with purple bangles. She snapped her fingers and skipped around in a small circle, dancing to a beat that definitely wasn't the "Moon River" ballad playing over the sound system. Then a boy approached. From beneath his shaved head and pierced eyebrow, even white teeth smiled out at the world and the girl. She waved her sleeve-covered hands at him, then skipped across the polished floor into his arms. So much for the ladies in red.

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"You type a lot faster than you talk." He smiled again. An intimate smile came over his intimate mouth, from which his rum-tumble voice generated. His blind date must be a typist. Krista smiled back at him. What to do? She was reluctant to reveal his error in identity and leave the intimacy of his arm and his mouth. "You have no hobbies at all?" she asked, biding her time. "Just dining and dancing," he replied. Dining and dancing, what a dreamy hobby. Between his voice and physique and his dreamy hobby, the man was nothing less than a date magnet. "Are you a good dancer?" She almost sighed at the thought of being moved around a dance floor wrapped in his muscular, strong arms. Of course, when he discovered she wasn't his blind date he'd most certainly dance off without her. "I took ballroom dance lessons for a phys ed credit in college." His low, masculine voice teased at her ear, and her stomach, and the tips of her gray suede shoes. "Really?" Another clever remark she couldn't take back. Where were the conversation skills she'd been brushing up on during her lunch break at the library? She'd have thought by page eighty-three of Flirting 101 something would click in her mind or on her tongue. He shifted on the bench and drew her further into his masculine space. "A four-point-oh grade point average," he said. Krista smiled graciously. What could a little dinner and dancing hurt? He might like her more than his blind date, the typist who'd stood him up. Then he'd be glad. She'd be glad. And if not glad, at least Krista would have somewhere to wear the Donna Karan dinner suit she'd gotten on sale last month down in Reno. Besides that, today was her birthday and she hadn't had a decent date in months, she rationalized. "I don't have a degree in dancing." Chalk up another brilliant statement for her. But with him looking at her like that, like she was capable of walking--no, make that dancing--on air, she couldn't remember one witty passage from one witty page of the book on flirting. "So are you saying you'll be stepping on my toes?" Again he grinned.

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"As long as there's no fancy footwork, your toes will be safe." That reply surprised her. It was almost witty. "Tonight then?" She nodded and all but sighed into his hazel eyes. Any Saturday night would be fine. Recently, she'd been opting to stay home and wash her hair, her lingerie, the cat. Well, Kitty was her neighbor's cat. Krista cat-sat Saturday nights whenever her next-door neighbor, Ellie, went away for the weekend. "Eight o'clock okay?" the golden specks in his eyes asked. "Eight's okay," she said mesmerized by the specks and his voice. The way he said 'okay' made the notion of going out with a total stranger seem completely okay. A crowded restaurant and a crowded dance floor sounded safe enough, she assured herself. If not, she'd show him a demonstration of the street karate she learned in the self-defense course at the YMCA this past winter. Her instructor had bragged that her kick-to-the-nose was the best he'd ever seen. Looked like Kitty was on her own tonight. Dining and dancing beat out cat sitting for a thirtieth birthday celebration any time. Turning thirty was bad enough, but turning thirty with only the cat for company was downright depressing. Maybe she'd bring a doggie bag home for Kitty. "I guess it's time to download, so to speak." His hazel eyes sparkled under the mall lighting. Download? What did that have to do with Kitty's bag and her happy-feet gliding across a dance floor wearing her brand new Aigner dress pumps? Download rang of computer lingo even to Krista's untrained ear. Just what she needed was more awkward communication problems. She'd known computers weren't for her when the teacher over at the high school instructed her to click on START to stop. That's when Krista decided to drop the night class. "As we agreed, no nicknames now that we're out of the chatroom." He held out a large, strong hand that had long, strong fingers. "I'm Dirk Raynard. Out at the homestead we do some digital farming and ranching and provide stock for Nevada's semi-pro rodeo circuit, mostly bulls." He continued to hold her hand. "All with the help of my Pentium-powered PC." Was the size of hands like the size of feet she wondered as the warmth of his long fingers and large palm engulfed her much smaller hand?

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She blinked up at Dirk. "Kristabel Lewis. Most everyone calls me Krista. I'm an assistant librarian, with the help of a very no-tech, Dewey decimal, card catalog system. Computerization hasn't been allocated for the library for this year or for next." She hoped that curbed any further computer talk he might have on his mind. "Kristabel," he repeated, with a lopsided, trusting smile. For all of a heartbeat, she wanted to confess that she'd never been in a chatroom. Then he squeezed her hand and her heart skipped a beat and the confession. "Interesting name," he said. "It has nothing to do with your nick." "No, it doesn't." What did her chatroom nickname have to do with, she wondered? "Rancher kind of speaks for itself." He chuckled. She laughed a nervous little laugh and crossed her legs, then her fingers, hoping he didn't ask her to explain her nick. "Care to go for coffee before I help haul your packages out to your car?" He stood. She stood, too. The tall, lean, sexy, dancing machine was more than a head taller than she was and just the perfect height for dancing. This was going to be one birthday to remember. Dirk manhandled the larger of her packages while she scooped the smaller bags into what he called her 'graceful arms.' He touched her elbow and escorted her over to the cappuccino bar in the food court where the aroma of coffee beans and spices lingered on the air. After settling her and her packages at a small, chrome table, they each picked a gourmet coffee flavor. "Hmm, cinnamon," Krista said when she sipped hers. Dirk sat on the chrome chair across from hers and clicked a blue pen. "I'll need your address and your phone number, in case I get lost." His pen hovered over the square, paper napkin. "Maybe I should meet you somewhere. Not that I don't trust you. But, my neighbor, Ellie-- she's my best friend--she'd have a cow if she found out you came out to the house. Actually, she'll have a cow when she finds out about you."

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Dirk ruffled his free hand through his hair. "But I thought you were satisfied after you emailed Pansy Potter and she vouched for my upstanding character." "Pansy Potter." Krista nodded. "Didn't she write the book, Like an Animal? I met her at a library book signing. She's a lovely person." Krista had heard many good things about the trustworthy, local northernNevada author. "That's the same Pansy. Vet, author and old school chum." Dirk smiled. "Then I'll pick you up at your house like a proper date should." "I'm sure Pansy's word will be good enough for my friend Ellie." It would certainly be good enough for Krista. When she got home, she intended to give Pansy Potter a call. If Pansy didn't vouch for Dirk, her next call would be to her own old school chum, Gabe Hallinger, the local chief of police. Dirk nodded and Krista recited her address and directions. With a few flicks of her wrist, she explained a tricky left-right-left turn. Dirk's eyes followed her slender, delicate wrist while it sensually snaked back-and-forth and back-and-forth. If only she knew, those entrancing motions were wiping all sense of direction right out of his head. "I think I got the gist of it." He cleared his throat and squinted down at the tiny square. "No apartment number?" "No. I own my home." She puckered her perfect red lips into a bow and gently blew on her steaming cappuccino. The foam didn't moved but every nerve in his body did. Every single neuron twitched and twittered. Thankfully, before any nerve damage set in, she stopped blowing. He scribbled furiously on another napkin, then held it out to her. "FYI." She looked at him blankly. "For your information? Online lingo?" "Right." She smiled a shaky smile. Nerves. He'd figured as much. This first date grated on his nerves, too, even after six months of verbal foreplay on the computer. "In the interest of fair play, and your friend Ellie, that's my address and phone number. You can call my brother Chad out at the house if you'd like. He's the farming half of the homestead." She took the napkin in her graceful fingers. "This is very fair." A dark brunette lock feathered down

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across her cheek while she read. She flicked at the lock with her flawlessly manicured fingertips. Krista was proving to be one surprise after another. Dirk hadn't expected her to be so, so, sexy, or so expensively groomed. She hadn't sounded the least bit over-priced in the computer chatroom. He wondered how an assistant librarian could afford her own home and still shop till she dropped. "I own my own house, too," he said. Almost. He and his brother and the bank did. "That's nice." She sipped at the foam on her coffee. Dirk supposed there were worse things Krista could be besides rich. Dishonest came to mind. He had little tolerance for liars, cheats, or thieves since their accountant disappeared with last year's profits. "A ranch house, I suppose," she mumbled. He nodded and smiled. In the chatroom she'd been much more articulate and clever. She was probably uptight over this face-to-face get together. Although her lips looked anything but uptight as she sipped at her coffee. They looked red and wet and sensual. He shifted on the chair. Suddenly, his jeans were cramping his comfort. His discomfort wasn't all in his jeans or due to her lips, though. He had to admit, despite the hours they'd spent online laughing at the same jokes and exchanging snappy dialogue, this meeting in the flesh was daunting. "When I get back to the hotel, I'll make reservations for tonight. Is there anywhere special you'd like to go?" "No." She shook her head. She was definitely chattier in cyberspace. Over on the bench, he'd thought she wasn't going to speak to him at all. Once she'd gotten a good look at him, he figured she'd changed her mind altogether. Big and average might not be her type. That's why he'd given her plenty of time. In case she decided to bolt. But she hadn't. Was he ever glad, too. Of all the women he'd met on the web, she'd been his first choice. As soon as he'd set eyes on her, she'd become his only choice. She was not only bright and sassy-- well once she relaxed he was sure she'd be bright and sassy again--but she was feminine and graceful and a knockout. Who said this computer dating stuff couldn't be exacted into a science? ***

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After shuffling Krista and her packages into her tan Volvo, Dirk climbed into his black Bronco and adjusted the visor against the late day sun. Springville was about an hour drive from the city. She wouldn't have much time to get ready for their date. But he recalled her saying she was a punctuality freak so he punched the gas pedal on his way back to the hotel and again on his way out of town. The address she'd given him was on a shady, maple tree-lined street. He found her house easily, considering the snaking hand directions she'd given him. Snaking tongues and other snaking body parts had flashed before his eyes during most of that distracting demonstration. After parking behind her car in the macadam driveway, he vaulted up the three steps to her stoop. He couldn't contain his energy. He had good vibes about their date. At exactly eight o'clock, Dirk rang the doorbell. Five minutes ticked by. By the porch lights, he studied her eaves and her shutters. From where he stood, the two-story house looked to be freshly painted and in good repair. He rang the bell again and picked imaginary lint from his black suit jacket. He watched moths gather near the lights while he sniffed in the smell of early honeysuckle from the nearby trellis. Another five minutes squeaked by. So much for punctuality. It seemed a bit of exaggeration came along with this internet dating stuff. Then the oak door swung open. "I'm almost ready." Krista hopped up and down on one foot while gracefully manipulating her other into a high heel. "Looks as if you need a hand." He pointed to her droopy neckline. She nodded and he circled her. When Dirk drew the two sides of her dress together, his knuckles grazed her backbone. Her skin felt silky smooth. It was as soft as angel hair and smelled like heaven--or maybe hell because he was suddenly burning up. He trailed one hand down the length of her zipper to below her waist. His rough, callused fingers nearly snagged the soft, ivory fabric. With a slight tug, the zipper edged upward. Slowly, the plastic teeth bit into each other. Then he drew it even slower. He savored the feel of her body beneath the movement. When at last her zipper was up, he had an urge to yank it back down and start all over again. Geez Loueez, he blew out soundlessly. Since when had zipping zippers become such a peak experience? He'd have to keep breathing to a minimum around her heavenly aroma. He palmed her bare shoulders. The skin was heavenly there, too, to the touch and to the smell. Against his better judgment he breathed in way too deeply, then turned her in his arms. "There." He checked out his handiwork. The scooped neckline of her dress no longer drooped. Now it merely plunged, enticingly. He kicked back an urge to plant a succulent kiss between those tantalizing, file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (11 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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creamy mounds. "Thanks." Her soft brown eyes met his for a second before she twisted in his arms and plucked her jacket from the newel post. The silky, ivory material crushed between them as she held it tightly to her chest. "I have to say good night to Kitty before we go." Her wispy breath teased his lips. "Kitty? You have a roommate?" More surprises. "No, that's Kitty." She pointed one pretty pink nail in the direction of a scraggly, gray cat perched on the back of a turquoise chintz chair. "You never mentioned you had a pet." Dirk followed her swaying hips into the cozy living room. "Kitty's not mine. She stays over whenever my neighbor, Ellie, visits her boyfriend. He's in prison." "Prison." He could hear his voice rise. And Krista and her friend had been worried about Dirk's character. She waved one of her delicate hands. "Nothing serious like murder." She nuzzled the scraggly, gray fur ball. "Night, Kitty. Only five more minutes until This Old Cat comes on." With a flicker of pink, she tapped the remote until the TV clicked on and flashed through the channels to seventy-seven. Krista smiled up at Dirk. "Ready?" She had a great smile, irresistible actually, and a great mouth. What he'd like to do to that ladylike mouth couldn't be put to words. He'd like to kiss it, taste it, tongue it, suck it. Instead, he trailed after her, like a contented cat purring at her heels. She had pretty heels, expensive leather ones. One thing a cattleman knew was leather. Then thoughts of leather flew from his head. She bent and flicked on the night light in the entranceway. With a swish, the ivory dress stretched tight across her bottom. He tugged at the collar of his shirt. She had a very female fanny. "Kitty prefers to sleep with the light on." Krista bent down further to fluff the pastel blanket in Kitty's wicker bed. Her round female bottom wriggled with each fluff. He opened the button at the collar of his shirt. Finally, they were off. Once more he trailed after her high heels. Her heels clicked across the brick sidewalk and over to the driveway. He helped her climb into the truck, which was a bit of a stretch for her froufrou short dress. That's when he discovered she had very long, female legs to go with her very

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round, female fanny. He had one heady hour's drive ahead of him back into the city. The closeness of her heavenly scent had his blood pumping hot, when his blood shouldn't be pumping hot, not over anything as trivial as her smell anyway. It's not as if she'd flung those legs or fanny at him. He blamed it on the bulls. Compared to the stink of bulls that he was accustomed to, her fragrance would boil any man's blood. He cracked the window open hoping for a whiff of sagebrush as they drove by the open countryside. Dirk chatted, while Krista gave brief, general answers. The drive seemed to stretch on for more than an hour. How long would it take her to get used to him? How long until she became chatty and witty like in the chatroom? He hoped she'd loosen up soon. At last, they arrived at the hotel. The restaurant staff helped fill in the gaps in their almost one-sided conversation. The maître d' greeted them and showed them to a table draped in pink linen. A silver vase held a pink rose and candles flickered from a silver holder. Through the candle glow, Krista looked like an elegant angel seated across from Dirk. The angel provoked hot urges in his manhood and warm ones around his heart? How could he not fall for her? The angel smiled at him. "So how's, a, everyone?" "You mean my brother? Didn't you call him?" She shook her head no. "Guess you didn't have time." Dirk shrugged. "Chad's Chad. He's still romancing the entire RFD Singles Club one at a time." "RFD? I'm not familiar with that computer term." She looked confused. "It's a postal term." He chuckled. "For the rural and farming areas." "Oh." She nodded with a nervous laugh. "Romancing the countryside sounds like a big job." "All done with slight of hand and no computer." Dirk reached across the table and touched Krista's dainty hand. "I tried selling him on a computer search, but he has criteria all his own." file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (13 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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Dirk thumbed the silky skin between her thumb and finger. He'd been one lucky computer nerd to run into her on the internet. All too soon the menus arrived and Dirk let go of her angelic hand. Once dinner got underway, Krista began loosening up. She started off with a shrimp appetizer, not that her appetite needed teasing. His darling angel ate her jumbo shrimp with the gusto of a pregnant mare. The more she ate, the looser she got, though. By the time the lobster bisque arrived she was downright chatty, if not yet witty. "Today's my birthday," she said. "I didn't tell you earlier because I didn't want you to feel you had to fuss. I bought Kitty a cat bed as a birthday treat. That's what was in one of the large packages you carried." He crooked his head. "I thought you said you were a Capricorn?" "Capricorn, Cancer, Cleo...I can never keep track of all those signs." She spooned up a mouthful of soup. "You mean Leo," he corrected. "Leo?" Another spoonful of soup disappeared. "See, that's what I mean." Her spoon paused only long enough for her to release a puff of exasperation. "How old are you again?" Dirk asked. "Thirty." She flipped her delicate wrist and checked her dainty gold watch. "As of exactly twenty minutes ago. What was your age again?" she asked. "Thirty-six. I assumed you were already thirty-plus," he said. "After all we did meet in the ThirtySomething Chatroom." "Never assume." She wagged one long, feminine finger at him. "Point taken." Playfully, he swiped at the tip of her pointed pink nail. The waiter cleared away the soup bowls and served their dinner. Krista nibbled down a steak filet, a baked potato smothered with sour cream, and a steamed vegetable medley, while she recited the library's bestseller list. Between bites of food and small, feminine dabs of her pink linen napkin, she gave Dirk a synopsis on each and every book on the top-ten list. file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (14 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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"You're really into novels," he said. "Oh, I don't just read novels. I'm reading up on all fifty states, alphabetically. I'm up to the Os. I'm also reading the encyclopedia, and I'm up to the Hs." Dirk figured she must have finished the dictionary because she hadn't mentioned it. She'd said something once, online, about being into books. But she'd never mentioned she was such a voracious reader, or eater. He smiled. A voracious woman, he liked that. And he'd wanted to like her, just not so much or so soon. While she spooned chocolate mousse into her angelic mouth--her mousse and then his--he fingered his empty spoon. Chocolate was his biggest weakness, up until now, anyway. She finished her second cup of coffee while he paid the bill. "Still interested in dancing?" he asked. What with all the food she'd chowed down, she probably couldn't move. "I think I need the exercise." She smiled sweetly and patted her tummy. When he stood to help her with her chair, he weighed the wisdom of assisting her with that pat. He wouldn't mind patting her down a bit. He passed on the idea. It was too soon. Although they'd known each other for six months, this was still technically their first date. By skirting a few tables, they wove their way through the restaurant and out into the lobby. Briefly, they waited in front of a bank of brass elevators. A swift ride swept them up to the top floor where dancing took place beneath a glass-doomed ceiling and the stars. As soon as they stepped out of the elevator car, Krista looked up. Starlight sparkled in her gentle brown eyes. "It's spectacular, isn't it?" she breathed. He answered automatically. "It is." But she was what was spectacular. She had to be the sweetest thing he'd ever seen. Haloed in starlight and dressed in ivory, she was as close to an angel as he'd ever get in Nevada or on this earth. He touched his hand to her waist and led her over to a burgundy, velvet loveseat. They ordered drinks. White wine for her, a Jim Beam for him. Bourbon should get his head out of the heavenly clouds and nail his feet to the ground nicely.

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After two sips, his black loafers dug into the plush rug. "What do you think?" He figured the decor was a safe, grounded subject. "I think we shouldn't waste anymore time." His heart stopped. His thoughts exactly. He gulped at his bourbon and burrowed his leather soles deeper into the gray carpeting. But his mind floated anyway, and his tongue soon followed. "My room's on the fifth--" "Nice." The angel floated to her feet. Her heavenly scent circled his head, but this time it seemed tinged with fire and brimstone. "Let's talk about your accommodations later and not waste this divine music a minute longer." That got his head out of the clouds fast, his feet grounded, and anything else that was up went down. "Yes, let's dance." He should've known better. The food had unwound Krista, but not that much. He led her out onto the tiny dance floor where space was scarce. Couples swayed to the slow dance tunes the trio of musicians played. When all her sweetness was put to music and encircled in his arms that floaty feeling engulfed him again all too quickly. She fit his body precisely. He never imagined heaven on earth could feel so soft, or round, or pliant. "You certainly are a smooth dancer," her silky voice whispered near his ear. He had other smooth moves he'd like to show her, but they had nothing to do with dancing. "And you dance divinely," he managed to mutter without sucking in too much of her scent. With a contented smile, she nestled her head beneath his chin. Now he struggled not to inhale at all. How could such a heavenly aroma provoke such unheavenly impulses? She snuggled into him. His body began throwing off heat faster than an inferno. She had to feel him burning up for her, yet she seemed unscorched. After a bit the tempo of the music changed. The next song was faster, with no body contact. Some dancers left the floor while others revved up. He got a chance to cool his heels away from her expensive leather ones, which had been straddling his loafers. Maybe his seared thigh would get a chance to cool off as well.

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The half a yard or so that separated them didn't do much good though. Krista's brunette hair swayed and her body swayed and his thoughts strayed. She shook her fanny at his groin. He could think of a better use for all that rhythm of hers. The horizontal boogie came to mind. What was wrong with him? He'd barely just met the woman and his testosterone was snorting out of control like a horny bull during breeding season. He fought for control. He didn't want to grope her or scare her off. He had other feelings growing for her. The baser ones just seemed to be growing faster at the moment. When the music slowed down again, his firing inferno heated up even more. Forced closer by the increased number of couples squeezing onto the dance floor, he tried to put mind over matter, sort of give his big head priority over the little head. Nope, it was easier not to think at all, or breathe. She could sway and smell all she liked. He wasn't going to think of her like some one-night stand. This was the woman he intended to get serious with. Krista snuggled against his chest and that took the starch right out of his hotel-starched, white shirt. Her soft, cuddly moves were melting his resolve fast. Body heat that radiated from the other dancers made the surrounding air hot and close. Krista's body fired up his discomfort. Then, just in time, the set ended and the band took a break. Back on the velvet settee, he breathed easy until she leaned her head back against the cushions and fanned at her face with her hands. She looked dewy and breathless and sexy. "I'm overheated. Are you?" Her eyes were closed so she didn't see him dabbing at his forehead with his hankie. Was he ever? "Yes." That was all he could manage to croak out. The ivory of her dress and her skin contrasted against the rich burgundy of the sofa and made his mouth go dry. "Should we take a walk outside to cool off until the next set?" She rolled her head sideways, lazily. Her long, dark lashes fluttered open. She looked at him all dreamy-like. Or maybe the dreaminess was in his mind and not a reflection of hers. "Yes." Cooling off was an excellent idea. He grabbed her hand and was on his feet in a flash.

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In another flash, they were confined within the polished brass walls of the elevator. He continued to hold her small, delicate hand. He looked down into her gentle, brown eyes. She looked up at him. Her pink lips parted, slightly. "I think we shouldn't waste anymore time," she whispered. There were those words again. He wasn't falling for them this time. This time, he knew she didn't mean what he'd hoped she'd meant last time. Only this time, she did. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled his head down toward her face, and kissed him, slowly, tenderly. Mentally, he took stock of how much she'd drunk--not more than a sip or two of wine. That meant she was sober, and that she wanted him. With that, he pulled her close and got into the kiss. She had soft lips. Her breath tasted sweet. Her mouth tasted sweet. Her tongue tasted the sweetest. This more than made up for the dessert he'd missed out on after dinner. She tasted better than chocolate. Even better than Almond Joy--and those were his favorite.

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Chapter 2 The DOWN button in the elevator glowed amber. Krista sensed the elevator car descending rapidly, too rapidly. She peeped one eye open, but kept her lips sealed to Dirk's. The lobby loomed two stops away. She wasn't willing to let this scrumptious kiss end just yet. After telling Dirk it was her birthday, she'd waited two full hours before getting up the nerve to come right out and ask him for a birthday kiss. With a last stroking caress behind his ear, she aimed her finger at the UP button. The car pitched slightly and began ascending. At about the same time, Dirk pitched his hips into hers and her hormone level ascended, too. He tugged at her wrist until her fingers cradled his ear once more. His hands cradled her, but lower. Her bottom fit nicely into his warm, large palms. He kneaded her flesh, and coaxed her hips into a rhythm that matched the slow, melodic, suddenly erotic-sounding, elevator music playing overhead. His hips joined hers to the beat. He was such a smooth dancer. Krista tried to tell him so, but all she could squeak out was a small moan. He managed to shimmy his hip against a row of elevator buttons. Down, they were heading down again. "Hit number five," he murmured against her lips. His room was on the fifth floor. All she'd wanted was one birthday kiss. Now, outrageous as it seemed, she wanted more, much more, and obviously so did he. Wanting him was not so outrageous, Krista reasoned. It had been so long since she'd been held in masculine arms. And this man felt so warm, so tender, so right. Warm? Who was she kidding? He was hot. Her fumbling fingers pressed the round button with the brassy, metallic 5 imprinted on it. His tongue stroked and tickled and teased hers. Her head swirled and numbers flashed above the doors. Seven and plummeting.

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This was too outrageous. She barely knew the man. UP--at the last second she stretched out her palm and slapped at the button. They were on the rise again. Then down, she hit the DOWN button. "Up or down, sweetness?" Dirk mumbled between their locked lips. Up, then down. Up, then down. She couldn't make up her mind. Every time she determined to pull away, she couldn't bring herself to part with those persuasive lips, and hips, and dips. Every ounce of longing drained from her bones and was replaced with the most incredible hormone rush. She pressed the UP button once again. "This is one wild ride, Kristabel, my belle. Some of my championship bucking bulls are more predictable." He sealed his words with hot lips and a silky tongue. Krista gave up. She hit the Up and Down buttons. Abruptly, the car jerked and the overhead music died. "I think the elevator's stopped," she murmured against his teeth. "So it seems," his teeth answered. She gulped down his husky voice and it tickled her stomach. She peeked. Sure enough, floors five and six were both lit up. "I think we're jammed between floors," she mumbled into his mouth. Their lips seemed jammed as well, but little else was. When the car had jolted to a halt, they hadn't. Hands roamed, hers and his. Fingers stroked, hers and his. Bodies melded, hers to his. "Shouldn't we do something?" she whispered. "You're doing just fine." He wove his fingers into her hair and resettled his mouth over hers. His hot tongue did things to the inside of her mouth that she didn't know a tongue could do. The tip tickled the roof of her mouth and her gum line. Krista hadn't known the gum line could be an erogenous zone until her woman's core tickled. Although thoughts of his tongue working its magic there could have triggered the reaction. She tried once more for sanity. "Shouldn't we buzz or phone or shout?" she asked breathlessly between their clinging lips. file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (20 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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"Afterward, sweetness." Afterward. The word hung on the still, hot air inside the elevator. The metal walls all but smoldered with shadowy heat and the promise of what came before afterward. She broke out in a hot flush. Dirk was ever so considerate though. He peeled her ivory jacket away from her heated body. With a toss, the slinky material dripped over the hip-high handrail that Krista gripped for white- knuckled support. For a brief moment, cool air and his cool, roughened fingers stroked her bare arms. Then sensuous, white-hot sparks replaced the coolness. Forget overheated. Her whole body blazed. Restlessly, Krista slipped off her shoes and they landed on the plush carpeted floor with muffled thunks. She perched her knee alongside his hipbone. Her tight, straight skirt stopped her short of her goal and inches from the source of his steely heat. Again Dirk obliged her. With soft swishes, ever so slowly, he bunched the fabric of her dress between his fingers. Her hem edged silkily upward. The skimming fabric tickled her outer thighs. Both the tingles and the hem stopped mid-thigh. Impulse drove her to raise her knee a little higher and try to encircle his waist. The same impulse must have driven him on. He assisted her. He cradled her bottom in his hands and urged her upward. A low growl announced when they reached their goal. His blazing hard core nestled tantalizingly against her melting core. She wriggled her hips and he thrust his forward. With another soft swish and a slight pivot, her back seared the metal wall while her cheeks perched onto the narrow, brass hand railing. His body weight pressed into her and, oh, did he ever feel good. She'd been right about her blind date and his tall, sleek body and his sinewy, firm muscles. Everything was lean where it should be lean and hard where it should be hard. He was one lean, sexy machine. "Belle," he gasped into her mouth, "my hard drive is about to crash." She didn't need a computer course to figure out his meaning. For once, her tongue didn't trip over an answer. Its newfound wit had nothing to do with the Flirting 101 volume she'd been reading all week either. Her tongue became quite clever all on its own. She could tell Dirk liked what it had to say. As she stroked the roof of his mouth with her tongue, a low moan echoed up from his rigid disk drive.

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A delicious decadence descended over her. It was an entirely new feeling for the entirely new thirty-yearold woman. Dirk was turning out to be quite the birthday present. Her present caressed her beige-toned thigh with his large palm. His touch was gentle, gliding, sensual, and combustible against the beige nylon. If he touched the combustible crotch of her beige pantyhose she couldn't be responsible for what happened next. She'd surely ignite, burn up just like a candle on a birthday cake. His eager mouth continued to work over hers. She gasped to suck in a bit of air. Just as her jacket slithered to the carpeted floor and she was about to follow, the elevator car dropped. She grasped the railing to keep her balance. The elevator bounced with a hefty bounce. She figured they must have finally hit the ground level. "We're here." The words tumbled from his lips, not sounding the least disappointed. Krista bit back her disappointment and finger combed her hair in an attempt to look presentable before entering the lobby. Quickly, she smoothed down her skirt and picked up her jacket and shoes from the elevator's carpeted floor. With a loud whoosh and a gust of cooling air, the doors hissed opened. Dirk swung her up into his arms. Her shoes and jacket dangled from her fingers. Numbers danced before her eyes. 501. 503. No doubt about it. This was not the lobby. "Put me down," she giggled, squirming in his strong arms. "What will people think?" He stopped in the middle of the empty hallway. "They'll think you're saving your strength for other things." His hazel eyes held hers. She should tell him to shush up. She should tell him she wasn't the other-things-kind-of-girl. But suddenly she wanted to be. She nuzzled her head under his clean-shaven chin. He smelled of a musky aftershave. She cuddled up against his broad chest. Although her tall, muscled birthday gift lacked glitzy paper and a bow, she all but drooled over the idea of him doing a slow peel. He moved down the hall in long strides. She watched their combined shadow darken the burgundy-andgray stripes on the wallpaper. Doors with brass plates slipped by. 507. 509. Dinner, dancing, and being carried off to a man's room, oh, but this was going to be one outrageously romantic birthday to remember all right.

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*** Dirk guessed she was used to him now. He glanced down at her flushed cheeks. Pink, just like her nail polish. Even in her overheated state, Krista was perfectly matched, perfectly put together, and light as a feather, which was remarkable what with all she'd eaten. He touched her down in front of the room marked 511. Her dainty, shoeless feet skirted the carpeted hall for a moment while he unlocked the door. As soon as it swung open, he scooped her back up into his arms. He liked the feel of her against his body, liked the smell of her, liked the look of her. Squeezable and smoochable, she was one adorable package. He nudged the door shut and shouldered the light switch on the wall. Instantly, from across the room, a lamp cast a golden glow. Dirk stopped on his way to the bed long enough for Krista to drop her dangling shoes and jacket onto the stuffed chair. Then his knee sank into the mattress and he centered her on the swirls of the blue and green bedspread. When he was satisfied with her placement, he kissed her softly while he peeled off his jacket and heeled off his shoes. She returned his kiss with a tenderness that all but melted his heart. It was way too early in the relationship to allow her heart-melting privileges. Even so, he wanted her to know that this was more than a race with lust. This relationship was heading toward something meaningful, important. He needed to slow things down. "Music?" he asked, breaking away from her tender lips. Music should calm the savage breast. Breast, wrong word. She had nice breasts, not too large and not too small, a nice handful. This train of thought wasn't doing anything to slow his racing testosterone. He flicked on the radio next to the bed. A Kenny G. instrumental floated across the room. Dirk sprawled out full length next to Krista. He put an arm around her shoulders and crossed his ankles. He tried to concentrate on the blue and green, geometric pattern that bordered the ceiling. "Nice socks," she said in a breathy voice. He glanced at his socks and then at her.

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Her dark brown eyes searched his and twinkled. "Are they 'one size fits all'?" He wriggled the toes of his orange-striped, tiger-paw, black socks. "Nope. They're what's called an extended size." "Extended, is that more than large?" Her twinkle brightened. She toyed with his shirt button. "Uh-huh." "Are those the socks you bought at the mall today?" "Yes." He rolled onto his side and traced his finger across her tummy, dipping briefly into the indent at her belly button. Her stomach muscles flinched beneath the pad of his finger. That and the gutwrenching romantic chords of Kenny G. weren't helping his racing testosterone levels one bit. Then Krista unexpectedly whispered in his ear---about the price of socks. "How much were they?" The titillating strains of Kenny G. faded into the background and his testosterone plummeted. "Nine dollars," he croaked. "Too much," she said. "Achille's Heels were on sale." "You don't do this often, do you?" Probably not ever, from the looks of her innocent brown eyes. Not that he did, often. It had been months and months, so many months that he'd forgotten what the wanting felt like, until tonight. Everything about Krista excited him. "Do what often?" she asked. "Admire men's extended-size socks?" A twitch of a smile touched her lips. "No. This." He leaned over her and traced her lips with his tongue, teasingly. By her swift, small intake of breath he could tell that she was teased. He stroked her lips, aching for them to form those infamous Ithink-we-shouldn't-waste-anymore-time words. When they didn't, he coaxed her mouth open. His tongue danced with her tongue, to a beat way faster than the back-to-back Kenny G. songs playing on the radio. Somehow, she hummed along to the beat of the music. No, she wasn't humming. The small sound emanating from her throat was definitely a moan. "You are the most delicious woman I've ever had the pleasure to kiss, Krista, my belle." He combed his file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (24 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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fingers through her silky dark hair and spread the strands across the pillow. "You're better than M&Ms," he murmured absently. "They only melt in my mouth while you, sweetness, melt in my hands. I like that. I like that a lot." "That's pretty romantic lingo," she nibbled on his lip, "for a computer nerd." "And you're not very quiet, for a librarian." Then his kisses quieted her. And he shut up, too, for a long while. His lips kissed her lips, her chin, her neck. He worked his way along the enticing neckline of the dress he'd enjoyed zipping up earlier. He dipped his tongue into the cleavage that had tempted him earlier. When he could stand it no longer, he said, "I'd like another goround at that zipper." Her faint smile gave him hope. He tugged on her hand and coaxed her up from the bed. She didn't need a whole lot of coaxing. He turned her in his arms. "In reverse this time, sweetness." With a lithe movement, she lifted her dark hair away from her neck. He unzipped her dress. The vinyl teeth slid apart a lot faster than they had bit together. He nudged the ivory fabric away from her shoulders, then followed the path the dress had taken with warm, wet kisses. His lips slowly slid their way down the arch of her spine. His teeth and fingers peeled away whatever lingerie stood in his wake. Her pale, lacy bra, her matching panties, and her hose landed in a delicate pile on top of her pink-painted toenails. He kissed his way back up, even slower. Dirk had never kissed a woman this much before, or wanted to. When he reached her neck, he planted small, moist kisses along her nape and her shoulders. When he turned her to face him, he kissed her collarbone and her throat. "Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?" he whispered. "It's a little late," she said breathlessly, "now that I'm undressed." "You're beautiful both dressed and undressed." Was she ever? Basked in a halo from the nearby lamp, her skin gleamed golden. "And you?" she asked, stroking the tip of her pink nail against the collar of his white shirt. "Neither dressed nor undressed." He shook his head. "Maybe I should be the judge of that." Slowly, she ran her index finger down over the front of his shirt.

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Her nail grazed each button. Dirk needed no further coaching. In a jumble of flying fingers and buttons, he had his shirt open and off in a jiffy. Next, she ran that same finger down through the hairs on his chest and around his nipples. He tried to control the shiver that ran down his spine and tickled his tailbone. Her finger traced over his black leather belt, then back and forth across the shiny, silver belt buckle. That was all the encouragement he could stand. His belt buckle jangled when he flicked it open. "Want a go at my zipper?" he asked in a hushed, husky voice. He dropped his hands to his sides and held his breath while he waited for her to decide. When her ladylike hands touched him there, he thought he'd landed on the moon. Such exhilaration over such a light, gentle touch. When those dainty fingers unzipped him, it was all he could do to keep himself from crash-landing off the moon. When she looked down, her dark eyes rounded and she gasped. He figured an explanation was in order. "I packed in a hurry. I forgot socks and underwear." He shrugged. "I only bought socks because you see them and all." "Extended size underwear weren't on sale anyway," she said in a wispy voice. Dirk pulled her close and kissed her hard. Did she ever feel sweet in his arms, all naked and soft and fragrant. It was time for a real moon landing. He kicked his pants off. Then he nearly dragged her down while he groped through his pants pocket for a packet. Once they were upright again, he unrolled the latex onto himself. Surprisingly, pink-painted nails assisted him. With a slight adjustment, he lifted her up and fit himself between her legs. Graceful as ever, she wrapped her legs around his hips and snuggled onto him. He teased her, and himself, with sliding, gliding moves, that simulated but never penetrated. Their kisses got hot, and hotter. His movements became fast, then slow, and then even slower... Ever so slowly, he impaled her against the wall beside the night table. Dirk waited for her to adjust to his size. She adjusted just fine, and quick. Soon she wriggled and thrust her hips. "For a big guy, you're very gentle." She wove her arms around his nape and bit gently at his neck.

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He'd meant to tease her a bit, while still standing, then take her to bed. Instead, exuberance overtook him and her. When he blasted clear off the moon, he took her heavenly body with him. The sexy, angelic librarian was just that, sexy and angelic, inviting and feminine, lusty and tender, against the wall, on the floor, and finally on the bed. In bed was the best. He tasted every inch of her flesh, front and back. He especially liked the way she purred and squirmed when he smacked tiny, fluttering kisses right above the cleft of her buns. If he'd had known she was going to return the favor and kiss every inch of his flesh, he'd have been even more creative. Afterward, palm-to-palm and eye-to-eye they made slow, soul-shattering love. She had the softest, brownest eyes that glazed over with the softest, brownest patina. The things she said to him were the most outrageous things he'd ever heard. No one had ever called him a hunk before. And that wasn't all. She thought he was handsome. She thought he was sexy. She thought he was clever. He was both flattered and humbled. Sometime later, after he got his head out of the clouds, it was only to find that he was head over heels. This relationship was going somewhere, fast. He told her so. Told her about his plans for the homestead, and for a wife. But Krista had fallen asleep in his arms. He pulled her close and hugged her to him. After tugging the bed sheet up over her shoulders, he kissed her temple and closed his eyes. He dozed for a minute. Anyway it had seemed like only a minute when the blare of the alarm clock jerked him awake. He hated to leave the warmth of her tender body snuggled enticingly up against him. But he had business to attend to this morning. Gently, he rocked her. "Wake up, little librarian." She yawned and rubbed her eyes. "It's still dark out." "I hate to sleep and run, but a prize bull is scheduled to be trucked out to the ranch this morning." "They deliver bulls before dawn?" "No." He slid out of bed and pulled on his pants. With backward tosses, he picked up her dainty undies and other clothing from the floor and flipped them in the direction of the bed. "It will be mid-morning until I get you home and me back out to the homestead." By the time he stood up, she'd gathered her ivory clothing into a jumble that she clutched to her chest along with the blue sheet.

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His heart flipped. She looked so darn cute, and vulnerable. "Do you want the bathroom first?" he asked. She nodded. He turned and waited. A bit later, he stashed his gear into the cargo area of the Bronco and buckled Krista into the passenger seat. Not that she needed his help buckling up, but he needed an excuse to make sure she was real and touchable and not some dream that evaporated in the early morning light. Once they were on their way back to Springville, he noticed how quiet Krista had become. Gone was the talkative, relaxed woman from the night before. He chalked her silence up to sleep deprivation. Soon as they were within the town limits, he glanced at the clock on the dash--seven a.m. already. "I'll email you sometime this afternoon." "Oh, you can't." Krista shook her head and what was left of her dark curls from last night bounced and swayed. "The computer broke." "A crash?" he asked. "Did you try rebooting?" "Kitty crashed it beyond reboot. Yesterday morning she pulled the whole system down by its cord. It's in the shop, the, a computer shop." Dirk maneuvered the quick left-right-left turn onto her narrow, tree-lined street, then pulled into her driveway. When he braked to a stop, he slid his arm along the back of the vinyl seat. He pecked Krista on the cheek. "I'll call you, then. What's a good time?" "Ah, I'll be in and out all day. Ellie's coming by to pick up Kitty and who knows where we'll land after that." "I'll just keep trying then." He leaned in and locked his lips to hers. She had the sweetest tasting kisses. One just never seemed to do. As soon as their lips parted, he wanted another kiss. "You don't have to see me in." Krista jangled a key ring from her pink-polished nail. "I know you're running late." With that, she slipped from the seat and was gone. He watched her walk up the sidewalk. He liked watching her walk. She had quite a watchable walk. He backed out onto the street and waited until she unlocked the front door. When she turned and waved file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (28 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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to him, he honked the horn and pulled away from the curb. Out of the blue, a bright yellow compact honked back at him right before it swerved into Krista's driveway. The driver flashed a blaze of orange hair and a wicked wink. Ellie, would be his guess. Dirk made a quick stop at the bakery on his way out of town and then headed toward Interstate 80 and home.

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Chapter 3 By the time Krista stopped waving to Dirk, the yellow blur of Ellie's VW Beetle had whipped into the driveway. Krista could barely wait until the five-foot fireball hopped out of the drivers' seat to call out. "Ellie, the worst thing has happened." "Kitty," Ellie shrieked. "Oh my gosh, something's happened to Kitty." "No." Krista waved her arms, but Ellie's black-moccasined feet hit the front doorstep at a dead run. Pixiesized as she was, she almost bowled right over Krista. "It's not Kitty." Krista grabbed hold of the black knit sleeve of her friend's blouse. Halfway down the hall Ellie's momentum skidded to a halt. "It's me," Krista gushed. "I'm a one-night stand." A loud "meow" broke the sudden silence as Kitty slithered alongside her owner's ankle. "Not now my pretty precious baby," Ellie crooned to the cat. Her short, orange curls seemed to stand on end and her matching orange freckles seemed to jump off her nose. "Because right now, I'm going to have a cow." "Please, don't have a cow." But it was too late. Ellie's shrill voice cracked the air like shattering glass. "That's not the least bit funny, Krista." She crossed her arms and marched her totally black-clad body around Krista. "Besides you don't look like a one-nighter to me." Krista watched her friend's dark figure circle twice. Poor Ellie, she'd vowed to wear nothing but black until her fiancé, Percy, was freed from prison on "those trumped-up embezzling charges." This was truly a sacrifice. Ellie loved color, the brighter the better. Krista waited until Ellie came full circle. "I'm not trying to be funny. Believe me, Ellie, I was there, in his hotel room, all night." "Hmm." Ellie stopped marching. Cocking her head to one side and then to the other, she studied Krista while she tapped her finger alongside her freckled nose. "On second thought, that is a dinner suit you're wearing and this is breakfast time." Kitty let out a long purr. "Yes, precious, you'll get your breakfast kittles in a minute." "This dinner suit," Krista said, "spent half the night crumpled on the floor of a man's hotel room." She looked upward. Surely the ceiling of her parents' former house would cave in on her for what she'd file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (30 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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admitted. "That's not necessarily a bad thing." Ellie bent down and scratched Kitty behind her gray, fuzzy ears. "If you enjoyed yourself." "I did," Krista mumbled. "See." Ellie stood up and jutted out her chin. "I predicted you'd get over the dentist in six months." "You're not a psychic. You're a bank teller. And I told you never to mention his name." "I didn't mention his name." Ellie rolled her eyes. "Well, don't mention him at all. We shouldn't be talking about that tooth-puller. He doesn't deserve remembering." "My sentiments exactly." Ellie stomped her size five foot for emphasis and Kitty skittered between Krista's legs. "Let's hope he and the traveling saleswoman he ran off with get tooth decay and fallen arches." "Enough about him. What am I going to do about you-know-who?" "The one-night stand?" Krista nodded her head. "His name is Dirk." "Was Dirk the hottie I saw wheeling up the road in the black truck?" Ellie pointed toward the open front door and the maple tree-lined road. Early morning sunlight spilled in through the stained-glass sidelights and spattered patterns of color across the wooden floor. Krista moved to close the door, but Ellie yanked her back by the elbow. "Dirk was the hottie, wasn't he?" Ellie flashed a pixyish grin. "Okay," Krista said, "the hottie, er, the man in the black truck was Dirk." "From my quick drive by glimpse, I could see why one night wouldn't be enough. One week, one year, one hot hunky lifetime might not be." Ellie arched an orange eyebrow. "You can tell all that from one look?" Krista eyed her neighbor with some skepticism. "He was more than just a hot hunk though. He was polite and romantic and interested. He hung on my every word. Can file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (31 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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you imagine that?" "Of course I can. I told you the problem wasn't with you. That deserting dentist shook your confidence. After that, dragging your future dates to those chick flicks didn't help. Wistful romances, family values, terminal diseases, what man wouldn't fall asleep. Guys like action- adventure films." "This guy liked dining and dancing." Krista wrapped her arms around herself and swayed. "Can you imagine that?" "Honestly? No. Percy likes action films and live hockey matches." A wistful look glazed Ellie's green eyes. "What does it feel like to have a man's rapt attention?" "At first, I ate too much." "Nervous eating. Go on." "Then I talked too much." "Nervous talking." She waved her hand for Krista to hurry her tale. "Eventually I relaxed. By the time we hit the dance floor, I relaxed too much. He had these strong arms, and this dreamy voice, oh, and rhythm. Ellie, he was such a smooth dancer." "I guess he swept you off your feet." "It all kind of started with his feet." Krista giggled. "And his extended size socks." Ellie looked perplexed. "You know what they say about the size of a man's feet and the size of a man's equipment. He had these long, extended size feet that aroused my curiosity." Ellie hooted with laughter. "I'd say more than your curiosity got aroused." "Oh, Ellie." Krista laughed along with her friend. "Being carried off to his room was more than just carnal, it was ultra romantic." "He carried you off," Ellie squealed. "Now that was romantic. I hope you weren't too carried away to use protection?" "Of course we did. I know about sex. I read."

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"I know you read. You're a librarian. But sometimes, Krista, I'm saying this as your best friend, well, you're naïve." "El, he even put the condom on romantically." Krista lowered her voice. "See what I mean. Now that's naïve." Ellie squinted her green eyes. "How did he do it?" Krista debated a second and decided to skip the part about the extended size condoms. Ellie waved her hand. "Never mind. Forget I asked. But, Krista, I have to tell you that you act like the old love bug has bitten you, and bitten you bad." "I do not. It has not," Krista stammered. "The problem is he's got it bad. While I thought we were on a blind date, actually the fantasy blind date of all time, he thought it was something more." "More, as in he wants to see you again?" "More than that. Just as I was falling asleep, he talked about the future. Can you imagine that?" "No. But I don't see what the problem is. He certainly isn't treating you like a one- nighter." "That's why I'm going to stay away from him. I'm not going to have my future messed with, not again." "Not every man is as messy as the dentist," Ellie said. "I told you never to mention his name." "I didn't say his name," Ellie protested. Kitty arched her back and hissed. "The realtor's coming by tomorrow and the For Sale sign is going up on the house as scheduled this time." Krista poked her finger in the air to push her point. "This time? I didn't even know there was a last time." "No thanks to the dentist," Krista said. "No more serious relationships for me. I'm not rearranging my future for some man ever again. The dentist promised we would travel once his business was established. Well, when he decided to travel, he left town with a one- way ticket and some saleswoman." "You said his name. Twice." Ellie wagged two fingers in front of Krista's nose. Kitty hissed louder and hissier.

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Krista swatted at her friend's freckled fingers. "Thanks to him, and my mother's urgings, I've given up on wedded bliss for now. That's why I bought myself a suitcase for my thirtieth birthday. I'm going to put some adventure and excitement in my life. That fantasy date was only the beginning. I'm going to travel, starting with every state that up until now I've only read about." Krista nodded. "I'm going to start with that clump of vowel states." "Vowel states?" Ellie's green eyes rounded. "You know, Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio. I'm tired of merely reading about romance and travel. I'm going to taste life for a change." "When did you decide on travel instead of marriage? This is the first I've heard of it. What will your parents say about you selling their house and squandering the money on high adventure and living large?" "When Mom retired to Sun City, Arizona with Dad, I promised her I'd sell the house and follow my dreams. Mom never got the chance to travel. Dad's construction business took up all their time. Now, all he wants to do is play golf and relax." "What's wrong with that? I could stand a little R and R, even if golf's thrown in." "Nothing's wrong with it, not for Dad anyway. But it's his dream not hers. While other mom's read storybooks to their children at bedtime, we'd flip through page after page of travel magazines. Don't you see? It's in my blood, Ellie. I've got to sell the house and travel." "It sounds more like you're living your mother's dream than yours, well, except for the romance part. And you can have romance right here with the Bronco-driving hottie." Ellie pointed toward the street where maples with reddish-brown buds announced the arrival of spring and where a black four-by-four had idled its engine less than a half an hour ago. "Just how did you meet him anyway?" "His name's Dirk and he thought I was his computer blind date. I didn't tell him otherwise." "Where in the world did you get the nerve to go out on a blind date? We generally run a credit check and library card check on the men you date." "So far, bounced checks and overdue library cards haven't proven to be a reliable date meter. Besides, there wasn't time. It happened suddenly. But I did check his references with Pansy Potter." "Pansy Potter? The vet? A computer blind date? You don't even own a computer. How did you pull all that off?" "I told him my computer had an accident with the floor." file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (34 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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"What kind of accid--" "Excuse me," a male voice interrupted. "The door was open." A smiling, young man, with a blue baseball cap worn backward, stood framed in the doorway holding a bakery box. "Is this the Lewis residence?" "Yes," both Krista and Ellie chorused. "Then this is for you." He held out the box. Krista dashed forward, and so did Kitty. With a "meow" that sounded more like a yowl, Kitty skirted between Krista's feet. Krista leaped up and over the gray fur ball. The young man dodged and ducked Krista's hurtling body. He dropped his smile, but not his delivery box. Such agility deserved a large tip. When Krista peeled herself off the doorjamb, she dug into her small, leather evening bag. The handful of bills she shoved into the young man's hand helped put the smile back on his face. As soon as the white delivery van drove off, Ellie slapped the front door shut and scurried after Krista into the dining room. "What's in the box?" Ellie asked. Krista pushed the crystal bowl of daisies aside and centered the box on the mahogany dining table. Now who could've sent her baked goods? She cracked open the lid and peeked in. She flipped the lid back down. "It's a birthday cake," she gasped. "And it's not from Mom and Dad." "It isn't?" Ellie raised the lid. They both stared down at the round cake that was iced in white and decorated with pink roses. Pink icing spelled out the words, MAYBE I LIKE TO FUSS. Krista shook her head back and forth slowly. "Can you imagine that?" "No." Ellie crinkled her brows. "What does it mean?" "It means he really did hang on my every word. I didn't tell him it was my birthday until after we went out because I didn't want him to fuss. Oh, Ellie, isn't that just about the most romantic thing you ever saw?" "Yes." Ellie nodded and her short orange curls bobbed. "I think I'll give Kitty her breakfast while you brew some coffee to go with this cake. Then, you can tell me where and how you met your computer file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (35 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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blind date through Pansy Potter, the vet. And don't leave anything out this time." *** "Start over and don't leave anything out," Chad said. By the know-it-all gleam in his dark eyes, Dirk could tell he was in for one of Chad's long, brotherly talks about women. Dirk rustled a chocolate from the bag on the desk in his office. While he peeled away the silver foil, he yawned. It was early in the day for candy, but his late night and early morning were starting to catch up with him. He needed the caffeine and sugar buzz. He'd had no sleep to speak of. When he recalled why, he almost groaned out loud. Krista. Making love to Krista had been heaven and hell. Her mouth, her skin, her tenderness had been heavenly. Losing himself in her body and her heat and aching for more had been hell. He popped the chocolate into his mouth before it melted. Krista's kisses were sweeter, much sweeter. He wasn't in the mood to listen to Chad's voice of experience advise him on the opposite sex, yet again. MYOB. Dirk wanted to tell his brother to mind your own business. But, this called for the old RodgeDodge. Nothing rattled Chad faster. When they were kids and their cousin Rodger spent summers out at the homestead, Chad, the little snitch, whined after them all day long. "Where are you going? Can I come along?" If they told him of their plans to sneak off and go fishing or swimming, he'd not only tag along, sticking to them like manure on their boots, but afterward he'd squeal. So instead of outright lies, which Chad would most certainly tattle to their folks about, they learned to dodge the little pest. Their shifty replies would have him sulking all day long. Sometimes, if they were real lucky, he wouldn't talk to them for a whole week. "I made a quick pit stop at the bakery on my way out of town." Proud of the shift in that reply, Dirk shoved his hands in his pockets and waited for his baby brother to bristle. "You can skip that part, and the part about how cute she's going to look cuddled on our front porch swing." Chad sat down. The brown leather armchair creaked. Something was wrong. Chad should've been bolting for the door with his jaw clamped tight instead of settling in. Dirk tried again.

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"Did I mention how our house paint doesn't have the same Glidden gleam as hers does?" "In case you haven't noticed, everybody's house is whiter than ours. Ours hasn't seen paint in a lot of years, bro." Chad crossed his booted foot over his knee. He tapped his fingers on the arm of the leather chair. Chad seemed to have picked today of all days to practice patience. Usually, he saved his patience up for Saturday nights and the ladies. Dirk tried a different tack. "Did Lambert say why the postponement? Nothing's happened to our prize bull during shipment? Log On's okay, isn't he?" "Log On? Now we have cyber cattle." Chad stopped tapping his fingers. "What are you going to name your first born when the time comes...Microchip?" He chuckled. "A chip off the old block." "When's Log On going to be delivered?" Dirk persisted. "Uh-uh," Chad grunted. "No bull talk until we finish with the bride talk, and I mean finish." He sprawled his long legs out in front of him. The heels of his boots scrunched the edge of the braided gold carpet. Something was wrong. The dodge didn't seem to be working. Chad looked comfortable, not irritable. It looked as if they were going to be awhile. Dirk slumped down onto the scarred, battered oak chair behind the equally scarred and battered oak desk. Both had been in the family for generations. His computer occupied most of the desk. The system wasn't turned on. Instead of the overly blue, overly cloudy skies of the screen saver, the monitor loomed blank and dark. Idly, he rolled the control mouse across its pad. "I met the woman I'm going to marry," he said quietly. The only bristle from Chad came from last night's stubble as he scratched at his chin. "I suppose the wedding will take place in cyberspace." "Nope. It will be a traditional wedding." "And you met the bride...where was that again? The internet?" Dirk stopped rolling the mouse. He stared out the nearby window at the shredding red bark of the junipers in the distance. Chad wasn't making this easy. He was a skeptic about women and computers. A rabbit bolted for cover and Dirk envied him. "I met her at the mall," he said at last.

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"Yeah? Did you pick her out of the Sears catalog or was she one of those mall mile- walkers?" "I told you it was prearranged." "I'll bet it was prearranged over the computer. Since you came home and saved the homestead from ruin with your computerized spreadsheets, databases, satellite weather, crop scouting, and who knows what all else, since then, you think your entire life can be run by modem." Chad jabbed his muddy, scuffed boot toe toward the computer on the desk. "Precision farming and digital ranching are the future of agriculture, livestock, and the environment." A pile of computer printouts spilled from the bookcase. "Well, you can't run your personal life by technology," Chad said. "What did you do up there at that college, spend every night cuddled up with your computer? Dating's fun. You should try it. All that interaction with real female flesh is downright enjoyable." "I took Krista out on a date." Dirk peeled the foil from another chocolate and popped it into his mouth. He needed to stay alert. He was losing ground with Chad. "You went on a blind date with a cyberchick arranged over the net." Chad threw his hands up. "All the inside info I've been giving you on the softer, fairer sex and this is what you do with it. You, big brother, are a hopeless pen-pushing, mouse-clicking computer cowboy." "Oh, as opposed to what, a serial dater? Save your advice. I don't want to date a passel of women. I want to get married. I want to marry Krista." "How? Why? You just met her a few hours ago. I swear intellectual people have no common sense. You might be an expert on computer bugs, but when it comes to the love bug, you are clueless." Dirk yawned. The chocolate wasn't working. Right about now the study of bed bugs was looking darn good. He was sure his bed with its clean but rumpled sheets didn't have any bugs, but he wouldn't mind devoting an hour or so to verifying the fact. He scrubbed his hands over his face. "Look, I'm not you, Chad. I'm not handsome or slick and I can't turn a fancy phrase. But over the web, Krista got to know me without any face-to-face, first impressions getting in the way. After six months of chatting, I feel I know her pretty darn well." "Give me a break." Chad rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and the dusty light fixture. "I know her better than someone you've met in a bar or two-stepped a dance with," Dirk argued.

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He knew Chad couldn't possibly understand. He was blessed with the chiseled, handsome features of their mother's side of the family and their easy-going charm, which he used to literally charm the pants off women. Since Chad's high school sweetheart left home with his engagement ring and a promise to return in four years with a degree in agriculture, and only the ring returned--via UPS--the farmer had become the charmer, the best in the county. Right then Dirk decided there was no way he was letting his good-looking, ladies' man of a brother anywhere near Krista until the day of the wedding. Waiting until after the vows were said would probably be even wiser. "I know as much, if not more, about women as you know about computers." Chad grinned and winked. "I've studied harder." Then he dropped the grin. "You and your computer, on the other hand, saved me and the family homestead. So let me save you from a failed marriage to a computer chick." "Give me a break with that savior stuff. We saved the Reynard Brothers Farm and Cattle Company together," Dirk said. "Yeah, but you had to leave college to do it." "You're only one man, Chad. You couldn't expect to run the place on your own. You needed a penpushing, button-clicking, bookkeeping manager." "Yeah, so I hired old man Hardrick who I didn't know from a sack of soybeans." "How could you know he'd push the pen and click the calculator with sticky fingers?" "I ignored the paperwork." Chad sat up and straightened the crumpled carpet with his boot heel. "I ignored the statements the bank mailed me. We both made mistakes. Let's stop rehashing it." "How can I forget about it?" Chad looked up from the carpet and leveled his eyes on Dirk. "Everything worked out fine for me. I wanted to stay on the place. You wanted to go to college." "It's not as if I was hell-bent on going," Dirk said. "It took me forever to save up the money, and then when I had enough cash it took me longer than forever to make up my mind if and when and where I wanted to go." "After all that gut wrenching you had to come back without finishing," Chad said.

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"Maybe I didn't want an education all that bad. Maybe I wanted to trouble shoot for a computer outfit so I could travel." Dirk shrugged. "So, I'll travel when the bulls go pro. Since the Goldtown Weekend Rodeo people are talking about our great pen of bulls. We've arrived, baby brother. We're now one of the top-ten stock providers for Nevada's semi-pro circuit." Chad's unblinking stare stayed steady. "By the time we hit the pro circuit, you won't be spry enough to travel." Dirk wasn't feeling all that spry right now. No amount of candy kisses was going to perk him up either. He needed a nap, bad. Making love with Krista had been energetic and time consuming. Not that he'd minded. If he had her here now he'd probably rise to the occasion again, so to speak. He glanced at Chad, hoping this chat was winding down. He certainly was. "My wife will keep me spry and I won't have to travel alone." "You wanted more than travel," Chad said. "You wanted to get away from the ranch for good." "I thought getting away would broaden my chances of meeting that right someone. But now I see the computer was the only way to go." Dirk tapped at the keyboard. "Back to you and your computer again. You're inseparable." Chad shook his head but grinned. "I'd swear your modem has been crying for you while you were away. Anyway the blip on the screen looked tearshaped." "You mean you touched the computer?" Dirk couldn't keep the amusement from his voice. "Yeah, I played a little solitaire on it. I was waiting for Lambert to call back about her headache with Logger." "His name is Log On. And he's going to be giving more than headaches. He's got attitude. No rider is going to last on that bull's back for eight seconds." "Well, our new partner," Chad's lip curled, "isn't trucking him out until the end of the week. Her headache turned out to be engine trouble." "Don't sneer at the partnership. We needed to diversify. Our associate's knowledge of bulls is helping to put us back in the black." Dirk shrugged. "Okay, in the pink, but at least we'll be out of the red." "Yeah, if you say so." Chad stood up and tucked the tattered tails of his work shirt into his jeans. "Thanks to diversity, I've got potato planting to worry about along with the alfalfa."

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"The partnership's only with the rodeo end of the business." Dirk skirted the cluttered desk and clapped Chad on the back. "The farm and ranch don't have any partners except us." "Okay, partner." Chad strolled over and plucked his Stetson from the antlered hat rack on the wall. "Since the embezzlement, we agreed not to trust strangers. Doesn't that include strange women?" Dirk recognized the gleam in his brother's eyes. Chad wasn't about to give up. He considered himself an expert on women. He'd go out of his way to prove that any woman Dirk found over the computer wasn't marriage-worthy. "Krista isn't a stranger." "And if I prove otherwise--" Dirk had faith in their computer chats. If Krista had lied, she'd have tripped up long ago. "If you prove me wrong about her, I'll do a week on the hay baler." "Make that a hot sunny week." Chad laughed, squared his hat, and strode from the room. Dirk tried not to worry about Chad and Krista. He was pretty sure angelic, assistant librarians weren't Chad's type. Nope, he consoled himself, angelic wasn't Chad's type at all.

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Chapter 4 "What do you mean you're going out with him again?" Ellie's orange hair was moussed today and stuck out at odd angles. One clump pointed accusingly at Krista. As if she needed further spotlighting, a ray of waning sunlight streamed across the cheery, yellow kitchen and landed directly on Krista and her pink, bunny-slippered feet. She handed Ellie a paring knife and went back to dicing carrots before she answered. "What could just one more date hurt?" "What about your one-nighter theory and never wanting to see him again? Not to mention your new suitcase," Ellie said. Krista shifted out of the spotlight, er, sunlight. "I didn't answer the phone when it rang and rang all day yesterday, but who'd have thought he'd call first thing this morning." She eyed Ellie's accusing orange spikes and chopped faster. "Did you ever think of turning on your answering machine?" Ellie picked up a potato and started peeling. "It's on the closet shelf next to the VCR I can't quite get the hang of." Krista pointed the square clever she used for chopping in the general direction of the hallway closet. The weight of the knife made her wrist droop. "I could hook the answering machine up for you if you want." Ellie's spikes wobbled. The steam simmering up from the pot of beef and onions on the stove was melting her mousse fast in the warm, tiny kitchen. "Don't bother," Krista said. "I'd only end up erasing the messages instead of playing them. I'm hopeless with electronic gadgets." "And with certain men." Ellie tossed the peeled potato across the cutting board. The broad blade of Krista's clever stopped the rolling spud. "Only this one last time. El, I wasn't prepared to hear his voice. He has the sexiest voice and he says the greatest things." "What kind of great things?" "For instance, at the mall, his stomach-tickling voice invited me to go dining and dancing, and now he offered to take me to a concert."

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"You couldn't pass up a concert?" Ellie groaned. "Please, don't have a cow." "I have no intentions of having a cow. I'm all for you dating the hottie and not moving away. I like having you in the neighborhood." Ellie grinned her trademark pixie grin. "I'm still moving. As of four o'clock this afternoon, the realtor listed the house and the For Sale sign was posted on the front lawn." "I missed the sign." Ellie's grin faded. "I came in through the back and didn't see it." "It's a done deal," Krista said. "Isn't that a rash decision? Shouldn't you think it over awhile longer?" "I've thought it over everyday for a whole year. I just didn't talk about it. You know, because I was involved and all." "With the dentist." Ellie clunked the small paring knife down onto the counter and covered her ears. "I don't care if you say his name." Krista shrugged. Ellie uncovered her ears. "You used to care before the hottie came along." "The hottie's name is Dirk." Krista's wrist bobbled and the huge blade of the cleaver wobbled. "It's just that I've never been to a live concert. The local guys tend to stay within the city limits. We go on dates to the movie house and local burger joint, and that's it." Her slicing, dicing, and chopping started going haywire. Chunks of carrot skipped off the cutting board and bounced across the yellow countertop. "So, you see, a concert is a big deal to me." "I see." Ellie took the clever from Krista's hand. "Who's playing at this concert you can't pass up?" "The Daughters of the West." Krista picked splayed specks of carrot from the sleeve of her gray sweat suit. "I think they're called the Daughters of the Purple Sage." Ellie grabbed another potato. "Well, I'm not really sure who Dirk said they were. But I'm going to know and up close, too. We have front row seats."

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"If it's the Purple Sage, they're a country and western group. You'll want to wear your cowgirl boots." "I have new emerald green, leather boots." Krista watched Ellie pare the potato skin into one long spiral. "And a matching green, tooled leather belt." "What are you going to do if Dirk starts talking about futures again?" Ellie peeped up at Krista. "I don't know." Krista gathered the scattered carrot slices and rinsed them in the sink. "I guess I'll tell him I'm not his computer pal, or chatroom chatmate, or whatever he calls her. That should turn him off and shush him up." "What if it doesn't? Suppose he doesn't care that you're not her, his blind date. Have you considered that?" Krista stood with dripping carrots in her hands, shaking her head. "I didn't consider that." "You'd better. You know how fast the hottie makes you melt." Ellie wriggled her brow. "He can sweep you off your feet with little more than his voice." "It takes more than his voice. His kisses had something to do with it." Along with his mesmerizing eyes, and she didn't want to leave out his talented hands...or...she decided to stop there instead of detailing all his exceptional body parts by rote. Krista dropped the carrots onto the rump roast. "But I do have that part figured out. I'm staying out of buildings with beds in them. I'm going to meet him on the steps of the Performing Arts Center so I won't be tempted to invite him into my house either before or after the concert. Plus the Arts Center doesn't have any beds in it." Krista leaned against the stainless steel sink. "Does it?" "No, it doesn't." Ellie squeezed next to her and rinsed the potatoes. She plopped them into the pot, then clanked the heavy, cast iron lid down onto the cast iron Dutch oven. "Then everything's settled." Krista crossed her arms over her chest. "For now. We'll talk about this again tomorrow. I've got to go." Ellie dashed across the yellow-and-black swirled linoleum. "It's going on six o'clock and Percy's calling tonight. We're hoping to hear about his appeal." She flung open the kitchen door that looked out onto their adjoining backyards. Since Ellie had moved in next door two years ago, both lawns had suffered. The women had worn a dirt path through the grass from backdoor to backdoor with their daily jaunts. Krista rushed over to Ellie and patted her black, sweater-clad shoulder. "That's wonderful, El. It's about time Percy won his appeal."

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"I might have to hire a PI to make it happen, but as soon as Percy is released we're getting married, and in style." "A PI and a wedding. Can you afford both?" Krista couldn't help but worry about Ellie and her finances. Besides the added expenses of lawyers, she'd lost Percy's help with the bills. "Not to worry." Ellie winked. "I'll rob the bank if I have to." Somehow that didn't make Krista feel reassured. But not wanting to darken Ellie's big moment any further, Krista clapped her hands. "You'll make a beautiful bride. I love weddings." "I thought you were against marriage." "Only for myself. My parents are happily married." Krista frowned. "Only because Mom made all the concessions." Krista swatted at her friend's shoulder. "But I'm sure that won't happen to you. I can't wait to see you in white. I have to admit, all this black you've been wearing is getting me down." "Don't get your hopes up on the white." "You mean you're wearing black to your wedding?" Krista tried not to sound shocked. "No." Ellie patted her moussed spikes, which were curling at the ends in the steamy kitchen. "I'm going for color." "Let me guess. Hot pink? Neon green?" "You know me so well." Ellie giggled. "As my maid of honor you'll have to wear color, too. Something bright ought to spruce up the adventuresome new you." Ellie winked, then bolted out the door. "Don't forget, pot roast tomorrow night at six," Krista called out as her friend scampered down the back steps. "It always tastes better served the second day." "The bank closes at five tomorrow. I'll be here at six sharp," Ellie shouted back. "We'll discuss combat strategy in case the art center does have beds in it." "Oh, Ellie." Krista slapped the door shut. *** The night of the concert, Krista wished she'd paid closer attention to Ellie's combat instructions. Bed or no bed, she needed some strategy. file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (45 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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At first, she'd had some luck. She'd swung the car into a space in the crammed parking lot next to a pole with a big, red letter G printed on it. That should make finding her car after the concert a whole lot easier. Then almost immediately her run of luck turned. As twilight settled over the pink and green arts complex, she spied Dirk. How could she have missed his looks? He stood head and shoulder above the crowd. His dark blond, wind-blown hair and his broad shoulders clad in a worn, jean jacket, had her heart pumping before she even started to climb the concrete steps. How had she managed to push all that hunkiness from her mind? How was she ever going to resist him? She skipped up the steps. Suddenly her feet were in a hurry to close the distance between Dirk and her. Her new boots were taking the steps two at a time--unladylike as that was. But they just wouldn't behave. Breathlessly, she neared the top step. Dirk got even taller and closer and more tempting. Beneath his jacket, his firm, muscled chest was covered with a flannel shirt in a soft, buttery shade of yellow that tinted his hazel eyes amber. He had dazzling eyes, hungry eyes, eyes that smiled at her. After a slight pant, she smiled back. Then her eyes did some skipping of their own. They flicked up and down, and here and there. Her pulse followed in rapid succession. She noticed he wore snug jeans and brown, scuffed boots, and snug jeans with a brown leather belt, and snug jeans. Her eyes and pulse kept straying back to those snug jeans-unladylike as that was. If the mere sight of him caused such heart-racing, eye-popping behavior, she hoped against hope that he wouldn't speak. "Hello," he said in that low timbre that he had. That did it. Her stomach dipped beneath her emerald-green, leather belt. Delightful tickles, or something similar to delight and tickles, ran down her legs to her emerald-green, cowboy-booted toes. Another pant escaped her. "If you ever consider a hobby, aerobics might be a good one," he teased. She wondered how many women had been felled by that voice, leveled at the knees, never to walk away. His homestead was probably littered with the panting remains of his conquests. Well, this woman planned on walking away, without a pant, right after the concert. Her breathing should have evened out by then. But for now, she concentrated on making her lips form words. "I'll admit I'm a bit winded. In the winter, I tend to read too much and snack too much and snuggle under the afghan too much." file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (46 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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"You look just fine to me, sweetness." A slight, brisk breeze tossed wisps of her hair about and thankfully blocked her view of his succulent, smiling, kissable mouth. He touched her, only her elbow, and through the heavy material of her fleece jacket. Yet, his mere touch sparked heat that worked its way up her navy blue sleeve and formed a dry lump in her throat that made swallowing a problem. A bigger blast of heat headed downward and settled in the nether region of her jeans where she didn't want any heat. Actually, a frigid freeze would better suit that region. Dirk moved her along by the elbow through a throng of people headed toward the brass- barred ticket window. From there they meandered with the crowd into the pink and green marble lobby. If she'd had any sense that hadn't been burnt to a crisp, she should turn around and head for home, alone. Krista was glad the hum of the crowd buzzed in her ears and drowned out what Dirk was saying. She didn't think she could handle his hot hand and his hot voice both at the same time. But as luck would have it, he leaned into her ear. Whiffs of mint-flavored gum tinged his breath and touched her cheek. His words caused all heat to disappear. Instead, chills ran down her spine with each rumble of his voice. Krista couldn't quite hear him, but whatever he was saying didn't matter. The sound of his words liquefied her. In no time she'd be an emerald-green puddle at his feet. Oh, why hadn't she listened to Ellie? Ellie had been right. This date required combat training. The tall, hunky, sexy man was irresistibly battleready. One last battle, er, date would never be enough for Krista. He had her craving full-out war. Impulsively, she wanted to shop for camouflage fatigues and olive-green drab. Dirk guided her through the lobby. Vendors sold programs, photos, and T-shirts. They waved their wares and called out to the people milling around. Oddly, Krista wasn't in the mood to shop. She shook her head at each offer, but Dirk bought a colorful program and handed it off to her. She hugged the glossy booklet to her chest as a memento of her first live concert and her last date with Dirk. They edged forward in search of section A. An usher, wearing a pastel pink bow tie and a brass-plated nametag, pointed them in the right direction. When they finally settled onto the tufted, green velvet seats marked 2A and 3A, they were so up front Krista had to tilt her head back to see the stage. But she didn't do much tilting. The man next to her took up her attention. Dirk draped his arm across the back of her seat, and the soft washed denim of his sleeve brushed her cheek and neck as she faced him. She smiled all thirty-two of her pearly whites at him in anticipation of the upcoming concert. She was file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (47 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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sure it was the concert she was anticipating. All thirty-two of his teeth smiled back her. Their smiles were so close she'd easily counted each tooth by the time the band finished tuning up and testing the microphone. "Candy or cola?" a vendor called on his hurried way down the aisle before the show started. "Candy or cola?" Dirk echoed. The low, slow timbre of his words shivered through her. Her hot woman core reacted as if the shivering timbre had asked, "Your place or mine?" Any place, her womanhood shouted in answer. "Not on your life," Krista said aloud. Dirk leaned in closer and cocked his head. She amended with a quick, "No, thank you." He arched a sun-bleached brow. "What could a couple of Reese's Pieces hurt? We'll share." She nodded. In a flash, money and candy exchanged hands. Soon she munched on orange and yellow peanut butter bits while he ate the chocolate-colored ones. Each time she finished chewing, Dirk slipped another peanuty, orange or yellow morsel into her mouth. The touch of his rough fingers against the glide of her slick lip gloss was having a mildly erotic effect on her. This date wasn't working out as planned. It wasn't going to unless Dirk cooperated by sitting still--no talking, no touching, no looking at her, and definitely no feeding her. It didn't seem likely that any of those things were going to happen. Krista sighed and chewed, and chewed and sighed. She hadn't noticed the house lights dim or the music until the band finished playing their first song. A silver sequined vest and matching sequined cowboy hat sent a blinding, streaking reminder her way. When the glistening lead singer moved center stage, she strummed a final chord on her guitar before introducing herself and the other members of the group. The group turned out to be a local band called the Farmer's Daughters. Krista didn't mind that they weren't world famous. They were live and lively. Excitement filled the air. The crowd was full-out, toe-tapping, hand-clapping, country- western fans. The band rocked the theater with feel-good ditties, sprinkled amongst a few heart- wrenching love ballads.

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While music, tempo, and rhythm stormed the concert hall, Krista's every sense remained tuned in to Dirk. With him an elbow's length away, how could a girl be expected to concentrate on any rhythm that didn't match his breathing, or any tempo out of sync with her racing heartbeat? Slow down, girl. Be strong, she coached. Her traveling future depended on it. Her determination to sell her house depended on it. Pulling the sign off the lawn or returning her new luggage wasn't something she wanted to consider. Why did Dirk have to be so attentive? Why did his voice have to be so seductive? Why did his touch make her stomach flutter? With no thanks to luck she made it through the concert. She let out a long exhale when the last song was played. Despite hot and cold flashes, a strumming pulse beat, and flagging willpower, Krista had persevered. She'd enjoyed the band and the date. So had Dirk. He held her hand and stroked her fingers while he told her so. "I enjoyed being with you." That's what his words said, but what she heard echoed in his stomachdipping voice curled her toes inside her emerald-green boots. "I enjoyed being with you more the other night and would like to continue enjoying myself with you." Coming up from her toes, and beyond her ladylike control, her most female voice answered, "I enjoyed being with you, too." She felt safe saying it. She even felt like a bit of a tease for saying it. After all she was driving home alone. What could possibly happen between the arts building and the parking lot? Arm in arm they strolled to the pole with the big, red letter G on it. Dirk kissed her good night with a long swooning kiss, a kiss that catapulted her heart into his throat. Or was that her tongue into his throat? Yes, it was. His mouth tasted good. His kiss tasted good. Everything was way too good for her own good. His kiss made promises, lots of promises, and Krista knew he was capable of keeping them, too. As soon as their lips parted, she scooted into her car and settled in behind the steering wheel. From the safety of the closed car door, she smiled and waved and prepared to drive off. Considerate as Dirk was, he stood with his hands stuffed in his pockets, looking all too edible, and waited for her to pull out of the traffic-filled parking lot. Luck turned on her once more. The Volvo wouldn't start. No amount of fiddling with the key turned the engine over. file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (49 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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Krista rolled down the car window. "Can you imagine that? The car won't start." She looked up at Dirk. "Can you fix it?" When Dirk leaned in the window, she took his breath away. Her sweet smell assailed his senses. "Now, sweetness..." Dirk hated breaking this to her while she gazed up at him as if he were a knight with a shining white Dodge Charger. "I know about computers and I know about livestock. What I don't know about is automobiles." "I think it might be the starter," she said. "It doesn't want to crank over." Her bottom lip pouted out at him, irresistibly. That coral-colored lip, with most of the lipstick eaten or kissed away, lured him in closer. Geez Loueez, he almost wiped out his right ear on the window frame sticking his head further into the car to get at her. Whoa, he prompted himself. He pulled up on the reins at the last minute and stopped himself from sucking the life out of her with another kiss. Darned, but the woman could kiss. His mind blanked whenever their lips touched. Common sense deserted him. His senses filled with touches, and smells, and imaginings that were far better left to the imagination. "Do you have a cell phone?" he asked when his brain kicked in. "We could call the motor club." "No." She shook her head of pretty, dark curls. Each shiny, silky curl bobbed and teased him to touch it. He wanted more than to touch those curls. Heck, he wanted to crush them in his hands and direct her mouth to where it could do the most good, on his. Instead, he backed out of the window and gulped in the earthy fragrance of springtime air. A man shouldn't have such lusty thoughts about such a sweet angel. He forced his mind to concentrate on polite, romantic thoughts, oh, and her car problems. "Chad has our cell. No sense fighting against the crowd to make our way back into the building. I could either drive you to a pay phone or the nearest garage." "That would be great." She smiled up at him and his heart pounded so loudly she surely must have heard it. He wished he could control his roaming eyes, his erratic pulse, and his wild imagination around her. The angel wouldn't appreciate him wanting to jump her bones right here in the parking lot with half the concertgoers watching--not that it wasn't a fantasy worth fantasizing. file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (50 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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He swung the car door open and she slid her very female hips, which were clad in some very femalerounding blue jeans, across the drivers' seat. He sucked in his breath. Her butt had great attitude. Her graceful fingers manipulated the key and locked the car door. She was one pleasure to watch, and to touch. Not to mention what a pleasure it was to feel her gentle touch. He recalled her hands stroking his body, her lips stroking his flesh. His stomach muscles tightened. He tried to think about something less damaging to his libido. He thought about computer printouts and rodeo schedules. After a minute, his raging testosterone petered out and the snugness left his jeans. He pulled her close to his side to shield her against the cool night air. She fit so right in the crook of his arm. Her hair smelled great, like sunshine and flowers, even though there wasn't a lick of sunshine or a flower in sight. Exhaust fumes should've been assaulting his nostrils. "Where are you parked?" she asked in that gushy little way she had of speaking. "Over in section A," he said. She blinked up at him. "You must have gotten here early." Her silky, heaven-scented hair tickled at his jaw, setting off a chain reaction that ended with his tailbone jolting. "I didn't want to miss hooking up with you. This is a big concert hall and an even bigger parking lot." He wondered if that sounded as sappy to her as it suddenly did to him. Normally, he wasn't a sappy kind of guy. Normally, he didn't escort angels around parking lots either, or dance with them, or kiss them, or make love to them. He shook his head and smiled. He was one lucky sap. All too soon they reached the Bronco. He released the soft warmth of her body and tucked her into the passenger seat. Slow-moving traffic had him jerking the truck to a stop and a start every few feet. Krista jerked as well, but with smooth, fluid movements. Fluid movements he remembered in all their naked glory. He wanted her so bad. But he wanted her for always, so he cleared his throat, and his mind, and fought to kill the all too intimate silence. "With autos being in the A's in the encyclopedia, I'd have thought you were all boned up on how to fix cars." Headlights from the congested traffic shone intermittently on her laughing brown eyes and coralfile:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (51 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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pink lips. "Oh, I've read about the mechanics of cars, but I couldn't force myself to do the hands-on exercises. I'm not very good with tools, and then there's all that grease and grime." She cringed. "Not to mention how it would chip your manicure." He reached across the seat and kissed the coral, pearly tips of her fingers. She shivered again. He took that shiver as a good sign. Looked like he got under her skin and nails as much as she did his. Once they were out of the parking lot, he headed toward the main road figuring he'd hit upon a full service garage. He passed up a quick-mart with self-service gas pumps. About a mile further he saw an open-all-night, full-service gas station and garage. In no time, a man named Joe, wearing spotty, grimy, gray coveralls, informed them that Al had the tow truck out on a road call. "Probably be about an hour till we get round to you." If Joe's coveralls were any indication, he had to be a hard worker and worth waiting for. Dirk told the man they'd be back in an hour. "Are you hungry?" he asked Krista, taking her arm. "A coffee maybe?" Two blocks down the road, a donut-shaped, neon light beckoned. Within minutes, they were seated in a red vinyl booth, eating chocolate donuts and drinking decaf. He flicked at the chocolate clinging to the side of her mouth with his thumb. He'd much rather have licked it off, but with this being a public place and all, he restrained himself. She flicked at his lip with the coral tip of her index finger, then licked the chocolate from her finger. Her tempting pink tongue slipped out for a second and was gone--from sight, anyway, but not from memory. He gulped at his coffee. Asking about her best friend should get his mind off fantasies involving Krista's tongue. "How's your best friend and neighbor, what's-her-name?" "Ellie, she's getting married and I'm going to be her maid of honor. I don't know if Percy's picked his best man yet." "Is Percy the guy in jail?" Dirk's voice rose. "Are they getting hitched behind bars?" "No. They're getting married as soon as Percy gets out. He's innocent, you know." Dirk sipped his coffee. Krista was so naïve. Every criminal in every jail swore to his innocence. He

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hoped her neighboring lovebirds weren't taking advantage of her. He crossed his fingers against the thought that she'd inadvertently driven a getaway vehicle. Krista had told him what Percy wasn't. He wasn't a murderer. But what was he? He could be a jaywalker, an arsonist, a rapist. It was about time Dirk found out. "What's Percy in for?" He tore the rim of the empty Styrofoam coffee cup into bits while he waited for her to answer. "Embezzling." Her soft brown eyes looked at him with sympathy. "Percy didn't do it, though," she rushed to add. "He couldn't have. His father's a minister." "Oh, that's a sound argument." Dirk's spine stiffened and his jaw tensed. Embezzlement, he and Chad were victims of that white-collar crime. Only old man Hardrick wasn't sitting in any jail. He'd skipped town. Probably skipped the country by now, too. The investigating officer had said the trail was stone cold. So was the blood in Dirk's veins at the thought of Krista hanging out with thieves. "Poor Percy, he got railroaded. That's what Ellie swears. She's hired a detective." "Detectives get paid by the hour. Their bill can add up fast." Dirk knew. He'd looked into hiring one. He leaned his elbows on the table. Looked like this situation called for a bit of interrogation or maybe a lot. "What does Ellie do for a living? Can she afford a full-blown investigation?" "Ellie works at the Springville Bank and Loan. She's a teller." "They don't earn much, do they?" Dirk knew tellers didn't earn much. One of Chad's honeys had been a bank clerk. Working in a bank put Ellie in a prime spot to get her hands on a lot of quick money though. He wondered if that old adage sang true. Embezzling birds of a feather flew together. Then a pang of panic struck. Dirk hoped his little shopaholic assistant-librarian was clean. He hoped her hands hadn't dipped into the till along with her friends' hands. His angelic Krista a thief? Of course not. Paranoia over the crime perpetrated against him and Chad was muddying his thinking. He was jumping the gate here, and applying guilt by association. Besides, he'd have had some inkling if her character were shoddy. They'd chatted on the Net for six months. She'd have let something slip in that stretch of time. Online getting-to-know-you had narrowed that margin for error. No, he'd thoroughly computer-screened Krista. He had faith in her.

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"Ellie's mentioned how difficult it is without Percy to help out with the mortgage payments and all. But she won't take a dollar from me." Krista reached across the gray Formica tabletop and took both of his hands in hers. He refocused on her milk-chocolate brown eyes. She smiled ever so prettily at him. "Try not to worry about Percy and Ellie. She'll get the money somehow. She always manages." "Now that's a comfort," he said. One that would keep him up nights. "Don't give it another thought." Krista rubbed the tops of his hands with a soft, comforting caress. "Right," he gulped. "Let's talk about something else." But nothing else came to mind, nothing but the gentle stroke of Krista's hands on his. "Have you ever eaten French food?" she asked, changing the subject for him. "Not that I can recall." The only French that came to his mind involved his tongue in her mouth. French kissing Krista until she purred that delicate little whimper that stirred his desires to peak performance. He should pull his hand away and stop her mind-boggling stroking, but he chose to remain mindless for a while longer. "I heard about a good French restaurant in Reno at the Chez Cowboy Casino and Hotel. Grace, our head librarian, just got back from a weekend gambling junket." "Uh-huh," he nodded. Mercy, he begged. Then mercy was granted. Krista dropped his hand and flicked her wrist to glance at her watch. "It's time to go." The hour was up already? Time and the stroking had past by all too quickly. He drove back to the garage only to hear Joe say, "Al isn't back yet. He radioed he'd be another hour. Traffic jam because of the concert letting out." Joe wiped his grease-covered hands onto a rag then tossed it next to the tire of a blue sports car he'd been working on. "We'll try back in another hour." Once they were in the Bronco and headed out of town, Krista said, "Maybe we should look for another garage. Joe can't be the only mechanic on duty in the city tonight." Dirk side-glanced her. In the dim lights of the traffic, he made out her profile, her graceful neck, her pert nose, the stray curls along her forehead. The woman was made for darkness, and daylight, but mostly the woman was made for love, and for him. file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (54 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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"Sweetness," he said in a low, nighttime voice that belonged between the sheets and not on a highway. He cleared his throat and started over without the bedroom tone this time. "Like I said, I know next to nothing about fixing cars. But I figure if owners of expensive sports cars entrust them to Joe he must be worth waiting for." "That seems logical." She leaned back in her seat. "We'll wait for Joe. Where are we going now?" Her eyebrows crinkled adorably. "Into the hills," he said. "I'd like to show you something special." What he'd really like was a rematch of their night in the hotel. But he'd promised himself to be on his best behavior tonight, no lust, just romance. He'd almost made it, too, right up until the good night kiss at her car door. As luck would have it, her car died and she was back in his arms. But luck or not, he was going to behave like a handholding, marriage-minded, wimp. Wimp. Is that what he'd become? If feeling he was about to crash-land on his head without a helmet meant he was a head-over-heels-in-love-wimp, he guessed he was. Okay, he'd wimp out if he had to, but no way was he telling Chad about it. He'd become a world-class wimp even if it killed him. From the pain in his groin, he figured it was going to be a slow death. "What could be special in the hills?" she asked after some contemplation. "Is it a special place or a special thing?" "A special surprise," he said. "I love surprises," she gushed all breathy. "But I'm not good at waiting. Could you give me a hint?" "I'm not good at hinting." "Are you sure I'm going to like this surprise? How far is it from here? Will it take long to get there?" "We should be there by the time you're done asking questions." A dozen questions later, Dirk turned off the highway and headed up a two-lane mountain road. Snowcapped peaks weren't part of his surprise, so midway up, he pulled over into a clearing. He turned off the headlights and the engine. "We have to get out of the truck." When he hopped down, he opened the passenger door and held out his hands to her. file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (55 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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"But we're nowhere." Krista let him lift her down in the darkness. "Look upward, angel, my belle." The night air had chilled. Dirk stood behind her and wrapped his arms around his earthly angel. They gazed up at the clear, dark sky twinkling with stars. "Dirk, I've seen stars before." "Keep watching." He hugged her closer and warmed her. The soft scent of pine wafted on the breeze sighing through the tops of the tall trees. "I've seen a full moon before, too." She fidgeted in his arms, turning to frown up at him. He tapped her nose. "You're not watching. You're going to miss it and that would be a shame." She rested the back of her head against his chest. "I'm watching, shamelessly, but I don't see a thing." "Sometimes it takes awhile." "Okay." She groaned, but waited. "There." He pointed. But he didn't need to. "Oh..." she gushed.

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Chapter 5 "Oh," Krista gasped again. "A shooting star. That is a surprise." As they stood together in the quiet and the dark, a star shot across the sky, losing its spot in the heavens. She cuddled deeper into Dirk's arms. "How did you know it was going to shoot...here...tonight?" "There are usually some in the sky when you get away from the lights of the city," Dirk said. But tonight his mind was on her angel-soft cuddle and not on the sky. "That explains why I've never seen one before. The only time I leave Springville is to visit the city lights and the shops." "I notice shopping's quite the hobby for you." "Only recently. Ellie says I need more color. She thinks we librarians tend to blend in with the books after awhile." Geez Loueez, more color than green boots and a belt? Dirk didn't think so. He'd never seen leather that color before. Hoped never to again. It was a disgrace to good cowhide. Where were Ellie's eyes? Krista didn't need a thing to enhance her delicate beauty. As her best friend, Ellie should've told her so, too. Since she hadn't, Dirk figured the job had fallen to him. "Sweetness, you don't need a thing. You don't resemble any books I've ever read." That had sounded a whole lot better in his head. Looked like this handholding, serious- minded, wimpy stuff took some practice. How could a guy be expected to wimp-out all in one night though? Turning a levelheaded male into a wimp was probably a slow process. "Thank you," she murmured into the quiet night. At least she'd recognized his effort for the compliment he'd intended. Another star flashed across the inky night sky. Krista twisted in his arms, bobbing up and down. "Did you see it? Did you see it?" "Yes." Dirk had caught a glimpse of it. But the only starlight that held any interest for him shone from file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (57 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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her starry eyes. Her mouth was open slightly, excited and inviting. He bent his head and their lips touched. Her warm, moist mouth tasted like something totally foreign to him, up until now. Commitment. In that instant, he knew he'd been right. Without a doubt, she was the woman for him. He wanted to scoop her up and elope, right here and now, tonight. But she'd probably want some courting. She was such an angelic, gentle woman. She deserved a proper engagement and wedding. He'd feel like a thief if he robbed her of that. And God knows, he hated thieves. Her soft, warm lips were molded to his. If he didn't stop kissing her now, he'd never stop. He pulled away and their lips parted. He stared into her starlit brown eyes. He expected to see the moon and stars and heaven reflected there. Her eyes were dreamy all right, but with glassy-eyed passion. His resolve wavered. "Krista," he murmured. A faint touch of a smile glistened on her moist lips. She pulled his head down toward hers and kissed him, slowly, succulently, teasingly. Then the tip of her tongue slipped into his mouth and that mindracing, French kissing he'd been dreaming about in the donut shop started with a low groan that built to a crescendo. Only unlike the daydream, he was doing the groaning and she was deploying the dueling tongue. If he didn't all but swallow her tongue to muffle his groans, they'd have heard him clear down the mountain and into the city. Paramedics and SWAT teams would've been dispersed to save a man in obvious distress. Dirk clutched her upper arms and held on for dear life. The restraint he'd wrangled with all night was being sucked right out of him. Krista's kisses were way too tantalizing. He gulped for breath and fought for the willpower to curb his runaway sex drive. Her wet, hot slip of a tongue traced delicately along his inner top lip, turning his next gulp into a gasp. Now she ran just the tip over the edges of his teeth, one by one. Anticipation at what she'd do next with that talented tongue had him standing, mesmerized, with his mouth open and his heart thudding. His jeans tightened as his manhood swelled. Whatever the sweet librarian had on her mind was getting harder and harder to resist.

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He was determined to give chivalry a shot, though. He waggled his tongue to shake some sense into it. He wondered if his over-sensitized mouth could form words. "I think we should watch for shooting stars," he mumbled almost incoherently. He didn't want to be responsible for training her attention on any other shooting objects, mainly his. "I think we shouldn't waste any more time," she said softly near his ear. Her warm breath tickled his ear and her teeth nibbled his lobe. More heat seared through his body centering in an already overheated extremity. A part of him hoped she didn't mean stargazing. The part of him that had a mind of its own. Since he'd met Krista, every time she said those words his lusty imagination flared. Tonight was no different. He tried real hard to look up at the sky and direct her interest toward the heavens. But with them standing so close and their bodies throwing off so much magnetism, he needed a force stronger than his mere will. "Shoot," he muttered under his breath when he gave in. He pulled her close and snuggled her pliable body into his. He slipped his arms around her waist beneath the fleece jacket she wore. But that wasn't close enough. Not now, not with the fire raging in his veins. He tugged at her shirt until he felt her delicate, soft skin. His fingers stroked her waist and worked their way up her spine. His eyes locked with hers. It was too late now for his will to stop things. Whatever happened from here on out was up to her. A word from her and he'd have the truck headed down the mountain before she could flutter her pretty lashes. She said no words nor did she blink a lash. Her breath rose with a small sigh. Dirk cut the sigh off with his lips. He inhaled her sugared, coffee-flavored breath. His mouth touched hers lightly and yet the impact of the kiss slugged him below the belt, way below the belt. "I want you, Krista." Their breaths mingled and breathed life into his words, making the wanting something tangible and attainable. "Tonight," he said so there would be no doubt as to his intentions. "And tomorrow night and the night after and the night after that." He sealed his promise with a searing kiss that all but melded their mouths and bodies together. After a while, he broke free from the fire of her body, but not her lips, and only long enough to shrug out of his jeans jacket. He crushed her to him the second the jacket hit the cold, hard- packed dirt near his boots. She nestled one of her gentle hands behind his ear and cradled his head. He liked the way her fingers claimed their intimate hold on him. He liked the way her fingers toyed with his ear and raked through his hair, restlessly. file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (59 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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Her other hand wormed its way up onto his chest. Her fingernails lightly scratched at his chest hairs where his top button was opened. Krista's busy fingers all but brought him to his knees. Before his knees buckled, he wrapped her in his arms and picked her up until her feet dangled off the ground. He carried her over to the side of the Bronco. When he leaned back, the cold metal of the vehicle felt good against his heated body. He straddled his legs wide and settled her between them. Once he felt the hot woman's core of her snug, supple body nestled where it could do the most good, the cooling down period he'd experienced was over in a flash. He'd had about all he could endure of her being in charge of the roving lips and hands. He pulled her as close as humanly possible before he took her head in both his hands and commenced kissing her. He licked at her top lip and kissed it tenderly. Then he licked at her pouty bottom lip before he suckled it between his teeth and nibbled it. Her delicious moan stirred him on. He made love to her mouth for the longest time, easing up and then increasing the pressure of his lips on hers, gauging her reactions by the wispy sighs that escaped. She squirmed against him. In a husky, heated whisper he said against her lips, "Don't move. Let me enjoy you." She lifted her hands slightly, then let them drop uselessly at her sides as she seemed to give herself up to the sensations of their mouths, the silence of the night, and the cool evening air that surrounded them. His head swam with the intoxication of Krista, of her mouth and her body and her willingness. When he came up for air, he held her slightly away from him and placed a stream of steady kisses to her neck, starting beneath her ear and trailing down her throat. A hint of a flowery perfume lingered on her skin. Her skin felt delicate and warm beneath his lips and wildly exciting. He unzipped her fleece jacket. She stood before him with her eyes closed. Her body swayed slightly yet gracefully. Her breathing came in small, warm pants of anticipation. He had no intention of disappointing the lady. The moonlight danced shadows across her face. He trailed his fingertip softly around her eyes. Her eyelids fluttered but remained closed. Lightly, he trailed his finger down over her pert nose and her luscious mouth. A small slip of warm air escaped her lips. He traced over her chin, down the length of her throat and stopped when he hit the first button on her shirt.

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He slipped the button open through the soft cotton fabric. Then, his finger drifted down to the next button that nestled itself temptingly between her breasts. Her warm skin quivered beneath the pad of his finger. He dipped his head and planted a kiss to the creamy flesh that glistened dewy in the starlight. She shuddered. He plucked at the button and then the front opening to her bra. She shivered when he exposed her breasts to the chill of the night air and the warmth of his gaze. Her nipples were puckered and aroused and ready for kissing. First he teased the tender skin around her nipples with his fingernail. Ever so slowly and ever so lightly, he circled and circled. With hard-fought restraint, he took one nipple into his mouth and suckled, again ever so slowly and ever so lightly. He stopped, removing his mouth to expose the bud to the cold night air. In the moonlight he could see the bud pucker and harden. Then he took her nipple into his moist, hot mouth again. He moved to her other breast and alternated back and forth until her whimpers told him it was time to move on. He unbuttoned the rest of her shirt. He kissed her tummy and tickled her belly button with his tongue. He dipped his tongue in and out. She purred her pleasure. Krista was such a treasure to kiss. He wanted to kiss and explore every inch of her very female body. Irresponsible as it sounded, he intended to do just that if it took all night and if her car never got repaired. When he unbuckled her green belt, it jangled, then dangled. Starlight glanced off the shiny golden buckle, pointing Dirk in an ever-downward direction. He undid the snap on her jeans. Her belly flinched beneath his knuckles. Her metal zipper made a loud scraping sound in the silent night. He dropped to his knees in front of her on the hard earth and tugged her jeans down over her hips. Moonbeams highlighted the stark white of her lacy panties. Overhead a spring breeze creaked though the boughs of the treetops and the scent of pine wafted through the air. He felt like some adoring admirer worshipping at her feet. He paid homage, momentarily, by thanking his lucky stars, then he peeled the scrap of lace down to meet the denim material. He stroked his thumb over her feminine mound, finding the pink slip of a nub buried beneath. He flicked at it with his thumb and felt its moist willingness. He slipped his tongue over it and tasted her femininity. She grabbed at his hair. He took that as a good sign. He continued to flick with his tongue until his scalp hurt from her deathlike clutch on his hair. He figured it was time to move things along.

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What he wanted to do was fling her over his shoulder, but he tamped down his caveman instincts for a more civilized action. Dirk reached out and flung the door of the SUV open, then swooped her up and situated her naked butt on the passenger seat while her booted feet and jeans dangled outside. "Put your foot here, sweetness." He patted his upper thigh. Krista clunked her booted foot up on his thigh. He tugged her boot off. She didn't know why she seemed to do whatever he asked. Maybe it was the erotic tone of his slow, rumbling voice. Maybe it was the memory of the other night in the hotel and the delicious sensations she knew he was more than capable of stirring in her. She had never known lust could make her limbs feel so limp and her mind so mindless. It was kind of nice to drift away on a sensuous journey, turn her body over to his wonderful hands and mouth and float on a cloud of euphoria. One more journey in her quest for adventure. She giggled, but not at her quest. It was the tickle of his tongue running between her toes and the soft pad of her foot. Then she stopped giggling, as serious pleasure took hold of her. Her breathing stilled as he took her little toe into his mouth and suckled. And then the next toe and the next, in turn. Her breathing kicked in when he stopped to yank her other boot off and then strip her of her sock. The cool air felt good on her foot, briefly, until he started with his tongue again. Her foot flushed, her body flushed, the roots of her hair flushed. The heat factor surrounding her and Dirk seemed to be full blast. With a sigh, Krista leaned back on her elbows and let her head drop back. Moonlight glinted in through the windshield, grazing her face. She closed her eyes and gave herself over to the moonlit, starry, suddenly unseasonably hot, spring evening, and to the liberties Dirk was taking with her toes, and to the delightful tickles that were pooling in between her thighs. When she'd had about all the teasing she could stand, she sat up and tugged at his shirt until his shirttails became undone. With an unladylike yank, she unsnapped his flannel shirt. She ran her fingers over his chest and around his nipples and then trailed slowly through his chest hair down, down, down to his bellybutton. She danced around his belly button for a bit with her fingernail, then edged lower and fidgeted with his belt buckle and the snap on his jeans. His stomach muscles flexed beneath her fingers. She smiled up at him. "Hurry," he rasped like a man about to be rescued from a burning building before the roof caved in on him. So she hurried. She unzipped his jeans with nimble fingers and the speed of light. The speed of file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (62 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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moonlight, she thought with a smile, watching the play of light and shadow on his muscled body. He took over from there, shimmying down his jeans, heeling off his boots, kicking the pants aside. The man was a flurry of activity. Soon, he stood before her, naked and glorious in the starry night. His desire for her was evident by the heaviness of his manhood. He leaned over her. His breath was minty and warm and close to her ear. He flipped the glove compartment open, fumbling inside for packets. He kept one and tossed another onto the dash. The heat of his body teased her with his closeness. She wanted him even closer, so close she couldn't tell where he began or she ended. The weight of his body settled on her as he lowered himself onto her. She grasped his shoulders and pulled him down closer yet. His chest crushed hers and the pressure felt good. Impatiently, she ran her fingers up and down his spine, tracing his backbone, one vertebra at a time. He braced an arm against the back of the seat to lift himself and resettle between her legs. He felt hot and hard and ready. She wrapped her legs around his waist. In no time, she bit down on her bottom lip and curled her toes to hold off the sweet surrender of her release. But there was no holding back. She saw stars, not shooting ones or falling ones this time. Stars flickered somewhere beyond her eyelids. "Krista, my belle," he rumbled, then he released. On braced elbows, he lifted his weight from her, but he rested his forehead against hers. Their panting breaths mingled as they both lay motionless, trying to still their racing hearts. After a bit he maneuvered himself into a sitting position and propped her onto his lap. He cradled her in his arms. "I'm sorry about taking you, right here, on the front seat of the SUV." He looked around the dusty interior of the Bronco and patted a rip in the upholstery on the seat. "It's not exactly the most romantic spot. Trust me, this isn't what I had in mind. None of this is what I had in mind. Things sort of got out of hand." "It's all right, Dirk. Believe me, I wanted this as much as you did. As for the romance part, it's one of the most romantic spots I've ever seen. We've got the sky and the stars and the fresh smell of spring on the air." "I feel like some randy teenager on a first date, parking and groping in lovers lane," he explained. "I'm sure you grope more skillfully than any teenage boy." She tapped her finger to his nose.

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He kissed her finger, her lips, her teeth, anything that got in his way on his path into her mouth. His tongue took her breath away and tickled her tummy. She wanted to tell him that it was probably time to leave. But she couldn't bring her wrist up to check her watch. Her limbs felt heavy and light all at the same time. She didn't mind. She liked the opposing feelings. It kept her in touch with her opposition to liking Dirk too much. He was certainly likable, too likable for her own good. Not only was he exciting to be around, and she'd been on enough boring dates in the past months to notice the difference, but he was considerate, pleasant. She stopped right there. Listing his good points wasn't helping her cause at all. If this mode of thinking took hold she'd soon be planting her feet in ranch soil instead of skipping them over every state in the union on her grand adventure. She shifted in his arms, squirming a little to put some distance between them. But how much distance could she put between two naked persons who were all but stuck together with sweaty lust in the front seat of a four-by-four? Instead, her squirms put some serious friction on body parts quickly aroused in the cramped quarters. The feel of his maleness on her soft bottom was sending suggestive messages to her womanhood. Not to mention what his suggestive kisses were doing to the rest of her. Why did Dirk have to be so attractive, so masculine, and so available? He was hard to resist and her resistance was running on low. She made one last, half-hearted attempt to push him away, and then she wrapped her arms around his neck and worked a few suggestive moves of her own into his mouth. "We should get back. Al's probably waiting for us." His words didn't sound all that convincing, especially since he punctuated them with a teeth-grinding kiss while his palm massaged her breast in a kneading rhythm that her womanhood begged to dance to. If he was giving her a chance to say no, he was wasting his breath. "The tow truck driver is a slowpoke. I'm sure we have lots of time," she assured him between an inhale and an exhale. "Mmm," he agreed. Anyway she was pretty sure that sound was an agreement. She turned and swung her leg over, straddling him. They continued to kiss, only now they exchanged an enticing amount of friction between her nipples and his chest hair. She mumbled into his mouth to hurry and he hurried. Without breaking lip contact, he fumbled around the dash until he found the other packet.

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She edged back enough to give him room to open the foil. Their foreheads touched and his hair tickled her brow when they both leaned in and concentrated on uncoiling the latex. His fingers were magnificently agile and she told him so. He crooked a small grin at her. She admired his big hands and his all over big physique. She told him that, too, in coy whispers. He chuckled and thanked her. They made eye contact. She felt as if his eyes were drawing her into him, combining their hearts, mingling their souls. The notion seemed ultra romantic in the moonlight and would seem ultra silly come the light of day, she was sure. So she allowed it. Then he rested his large, warm hands on her waist and lifted her, guiding her down onto him. The size of him filled her. Suddenly, everything was Dirk. He seemed to consume her. She was joined with him by his eyes, and his hands, and his heart, and his body. Their earlier, frantic lust had calmed. This time their reactions were more than responses of the body. This time their sensations entailed more than hormones pumping hot. This time emotions were involved. It was too late to guard her heart. She couldn't stop the emotional wave they were riding any more than she could stop the rhythm of the physical act that brought them closer and closer to a climax. She feared their lovemaking had indeed become a making of love. She closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on the physical act and to disassociate herself from the affection and the tenderness that pulled her. Soon emotions and sensations flooded her as she peaked. He, too, went still a moment later. They smiled and panted with satisfaction. He petted her hair and stroked the side of her face. "That was remarkable. You were remarkable." The low timbre of his voice made her feel remarkable, kind of tingly and mellow all at the same time. Krista didn't want to feel any mellower than she already felt. His hazel eyes said I love you and she didn't want that mind-bending voice of his repeating those words. Hurriedly, she reached over and flicked on the interior lights. "And you were remarkable as well, but look at the time." She tapped at her wristwatch before she disengaged herself from his lap. Dirk hopped down out of the truck. He began gathering clothing up from the ground while Krista fumbled in her handbag until she found a comb. This date had rattled her more than the last one. This date was definitely their last date. She combed her hair and checked her handiwork in the rearview mirror. Her hair looked far from picture perfect, but it

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would do. Dirk plopped a pile of clothes between them on the seat. They both started rummaging for underwear. He handed her the white, scrap of lacy undies while she tossed him a pair of white boxers. So boxers were what he hadn't worn the other night. She hadn't given it a thought earlier during their scramble with lust. Now that she thought about it though, she figured boxers were roomy enough. They didn't need to come in extended sizes. She smiled over at him. He was dressed but not snapped or buttoned. He was one hunky male, one dangerous-to-her-future-plans hunky male. "Another shooting star." He pointed through the windshield. She saw it in time. "I can't believe I've seen three shooting stars. Before tonight I'd never even seen one. I wished upon that last one." "What did you wish for?" He dangled her lacy bra in his fingers. She snatched it away. Dirk knew what he'd have wished. It had nothing to do with the rest of mankind. Nothing as altruistic as world peace. His was purely a selfish wish. He wanted Kristabel Lewis for his wife, and soon. He'd wish for a quickstep course in the art of wimp-ism. "I wished for...no, I can't tell or it won't come true." She shook her pretty head of dark hair. Darned if he wouldn't like to see that dark hair splayed across his white sheets later tonight. But he couldn't waste wishes. "No time for wishing anyway, Krista, my belle. We don't want to keep the mechanic at the garage waiting." On the drive back down the mountain, Krista asked, "I was wondering, are they called shooting stars or falling stars?" "IMHO," he said and cleared his throat. "IM...?" she looked at him curiously. The starlight must have affected her, too. He was glad. "Have you forgotten your computer lingo, sweetness?" He smiled over at her. "In my humble opinion, file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (66 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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I'd say it depends on your perspective. Shooting sounds more uplifting than falling. But, my guess is that stars shoot and stardust falls." "What a beautiful notion." She smiled at him. "But in other words, you don't know." "Nope," he chuckled. "I don't know." When the garage came in sight, a big crusty tow truck blocked the double garage doors. "Oh, look," she exclaimed, "Al's back at last." She appeared way too exuberant about Al and his truck for Dirk's liking. She seemed in one mighty hurry to end their date and get away from him. Dirk ducked his head to hide his disappointment. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he sauntered over to Al and Joe. At least he'd been right about Joe, the mechanic. Once Al towed Krista's car in, Joe had the Volvo purring like a contented Kitty in no time. The problem turned out to be a loose ignition wire and was easily fixed. Before long, Dirk was closing Krista's car door and popping his head through the open window. Despite her lack of enthusiasm, he still wanted a long, lingering goodnight kiss. She touched her hand to his cheek. It felt soft, and comforting, and loving there. He tilted his head and leaned into her palm. "I guess this is good night," she said. "Thank you for the lovely evening." Her sparkling brown eyes almost rocked him off his boot heels. "My pleasure, angel." She nodded, pecked him on the lips and began rolling up the window. He stepped back and watched her drive away.

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Chapter 6 Krista drove faster than usual. With every mile that distanced her from the city, she breathed easier. She wasn't about to trust herself with these warm, fuzzy feelings Dirk inspired until she was home, tucked in bed, alone, far from the man. What a date. Why did the man have to be so...so...so hot. Ellie was right. The man was a hottie, a heartkicking hottie. The heart kicking was the part that worried her the most. She was not going out with him a third time. No way, no how, nowhere. She repeated those words many times over the next two days. She was glad the phone hadn't rung since her parents' call last night. Actually, she was grateful. Now she wouldn't have to figure out how in the world to dump Dirk, or confess her computer-imposter role, or feel guilty about either one. His sudden loss of dialing skills rid her of that nasty little task. So, why hadn't relief set in? Krista snuggled deeper into the cushions of the white sofa and tried to concentrate on the book in her lap. She stared hard at the open pages. But her eyes kept straying from Ohio's powerboat races and sailboat regattas over to the black antique candlestick phone on the table. She wasn't expecting any calls. After her long, long-distance chat with her folks, she knew she wouldn't be hearing from them any time this week. Ellie never called. She just popped in whenever she had something to say, which was nearly every day if Krista didn't pop up on Ellie's doorstep first. Krista told herself she wasn't longing for Dirk to call. She didn't miss hearing his lulling, sexy voice. She didn't miss him. The mantle clock chimed ten chimes. Time for bed. She clapped the book shut. She needed a bigger distraction than Ohio or she couldn't be responsible for her dreams. Maybe a hot shower followed by a Charlie Chan movie was big enough. Hot water relaxed her, and she always fell asleep before the credits rolled on a Charlie Chan mystery. Krista would dream up her own endings, which would be more restful than dreaming about Dirk's candy-coated kisses. With a toss, the Ohio travelogue thudded onto the maple bookshelf and Krista trudged upstairs. Before long, steamy water pelted her while images of tall, broad, naked muscles danced through her head. Her body ached for attention, male attention, specifically Dirk's attention. The hot water and the loofah weren't much of a substitute. A good dose of ice water should freeze her longings and numb her memories, but she hated cold showers. file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (68 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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Brrrng. Brrrng. Had the phone rung? With the water running full force, she couldn't be sure. Krista stuck her head out from the green, polka-dotted shower curtain. Silence. Ducking back in, she dumped a capful of herbal shampoo onto her hair. She rubbed vigorously, hoping to jar the notion of ringing phones and Dirk out of her head. Brrrng. Brrrng. This time shampoo suds clogged her ears and soap ran down her face when she yanked the curtain aside and listened. Nothing, darn the man. He and the non-ringing phone were getting under her skin, her wellscrubbed, water-warmed, aching-to-be touched, naked skin. Briskly, she turned the faucet to cold. She rinsed her hair until it squeaked and until everything including her brain was chilled to the bone. An icy Krista stepped out of the shower stall and quickly wrapped herself in a fluffy, green striped towel. In a flurry, she twisted another towel around her wet, stringy hair. Brrrng. Brrrng. The ringing sounded fainter now. Still, ringing in the ears could be serious and shouldn't be ignored. Tomorrow she'd have to make an appointment to get her hearing checked. After towel-drying her hair, she ran a comb through it. When she padded into her bedroom and pulled her Garfield the Cat nightshirt over her head, she nearly jumped out of her overly sensitive skin. A very real, very loud, brrrng rang out. Seems her hearing wasn't impaired after all. By the second brrrng, she had the receiver to her ear. "Hello." "Krista, I've been calling and calling. Your back door's locked, but your lights are all on. Are you okay?" "Yes, El. I was in the shower." "Can we talk?" "Sure, I'd love to." Ellie was just what she needed to keep her mind off Dirk's unrequited phone calls. "Percy's case looks promising. The detective has a hot lead. I think it's time we shop for a dress."

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"Dress, as in a wedding dress?" Krista sank down onto the pink chenille bedspread. Her eyes misted. Thoughts of weddings always made her teary. Wedding plans made her cry. Weddings themselves made her out-and-out bawl. She was probably a lousy choice for a maid of honor and an even lousier one for a bride. Thank goodness her plans didn't include marriage. She could just picture a red-eyed, red-nosed, bawling bride marching down the aisle. "Krista, are you there?" "Yes." Krista dabbed at her eyes with the corner of the chenille spread. "Ellie, I can't believe it's really going to happen. After all these months of waiting." "It is, so get ready to shop." Ellie giggled. "Not just for the bride's dress either, but yours, too. I don't have to tell you how I feel about those standard-issue, frilly, silly bridesmaids' dresses. We'll get you something simple, chic, timeless. And loud." Krista laughed. "Whatever. It's your day." "What do you think? Should we go into Elko or splurge on a weekend in Reno? The stores and shops in Reno have so much more variety and color." "Oh, this calls for splurging. But can you afford it?" "That's why they make plastic," Ellie said. "Then dinner's on my plastic credit card. Are you up for French food?" "I'm for anything French." Ellie laughed. "If we leave by dawn, we can be there by noon." "Dawn it is." Ellie continued to run on and on about shoes and garters and veils and hairdos. An occasional "uh-huh, uh-huh" seemed to be all Krista could get in. After a bit, she yawned and curled onto her pillow. Her lids drooped closed. Then out of nowhere, Ellie let out an eye-opener. "How's the hottie? Did he call yet?" Krista sat up. "No. I told you I didn't want him to." "I hear disappointment in your voice," Ellie chided. "I guess being rejected by my fantasy date of all time has its drawbacks." file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (70 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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"You could call him. You could make him a reality and stay in the state if not the neighborhood." "Forget it. The last state I'm headed for is the state of bliss. I've been there before. Maybe not quite so blissful, I'll admit. But when the man goes, so goes the bliss. I need travel, adventure, romantic interludes. What I don't need is settling down." "Just because your father settled your mother down before she could see the country doesn't mean Dirk is a homebody." "Ellie he's a rancher. Ranchers don't travel far from the range. They stay on the ranch." "Travel, adventure, and romance. Is that what you wished for on that falling star?" Ellie teased. "I can't tell," Krista said. "It would jinx the wish." "I have all weekend to pry it out of you." "Oh, Ellie." "Set your alarm. Bye," Ellie sang out before hanging up.

*** "Bye," Chad said for the fifth time. "Are you sure you understand how the email works?" Dirk asked for the sixth time, reluctant to leave Chad in charge of the computer. "Yes, now get out of here." Chad grabbed Dirk's blue nylon duffel bag and tossed it out the office door. It skidded along the wooden floor, then thudded against the wall of the rose-papered hallway. "This is important," Dirk persisted, ignoring Chad's antics. "If you don't think you can handle it, tell me now." "I can handle the email." Chad sat down at the cluttered oak desk and swiveled the mouse control across the pad to demonstrate. "I click here, on the mailbox. I type in your password, Rancher, then click OK." Dirk peered over Chad's shoulder. "I guess you've got it." file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (71 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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"What's this trash can for?" Chad rolled the mouse. The arrow hovered over the small icon of a can, one click away from deleting everything highlighted. "Never click on that trash can." Dirk's fingers itched to grab the mouse from his brother's hand. Instead he rustled his fingers through his hair. Maybe he should wait and retrieve the email himself on his return. "Don't trash anything. Promise." "Your trash is safe with me," Chad teased. "Why so touchy? Afraid I'll meet up with your computer girlfriend and you'll end up baling hay for a week?" "No." The hay baling bargain didn't bother Dirk. He believed in the computer and Krista. She hadn't lied. But he sighed his relief that her computer had crashed. He didn't want his brother meeting up with her and charming her, online or off. "I won't harm your precious PC," Chad said. "Whatever you do don't lose the rental agreement on the GPS unit when it comes through the email. Print it, sign it, and get it out in the snail mail." Chad's forehead wrinkled. "Regular postal mail," Dirk explained. "This is why I hate talking business with you. I never know what you're talking about." Chad's wrinkles deepened. "And what in the heck is a GPS unit?" "A ten-thousand dollar mapping and surveying unit. We're leasing one. It'll detect insect infestations, fungus, or too much fertilizer in time to do something about it. Environmentally, we'll only put fertilizer where we need it and we can also protect the watersheds from pesticides. Eventually, we'll build up a detailed map of each field." "Lucky it doesn't spread the fertilizer and spray the fields or I'd be out of a job." Chad smirked. "Don't worry about a thing. I'll sign the contract and mail it." He rolled his eyes. "If you didn't have a woman for a partner, you'd be able to do this stuff yourself. You wouldn't have to drive down to Reno to pick up your own bull." "The truck breaking down on the way in from California could've happened to anyone, male or female. Anyway, doing business with this woman is going to help pay the rent on the GPS." The last thing Dirk wanted was to rehash any topic concerning women with his brother. Chad had one idea about women and it was strictly non-business.

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Chad exited the email account and clicked on START to start shutting down the computer. "So this email account is where a guy picks up honest women? Maybe I'll check into it while your gone," Chad teased. "In the meantime, behave yourself in Reno with our female partner, big brother." "As if women fall at my feet." "Just librarians, apparently." "I'm out of here." Dirk slapped Chad on the back. Krista was one female he had no intention of discussing with Chad again. "At last, he's going. I never thought he'd leave us alone." Chad kissed the top of the monitor with a loud smacking of his lips. "Funny." Dirk headed for the hallway, grabbed his duffel and hurried down the porch steps. He was running late. If he wanted to meet Lambert on time, he'd have to hurry. The poor woman had enough troubles with the truck and the bull, without fretting over Dirk not showing up. Dirk climbed behind the wheel of the battered gray pickup that he'd hitched to the livestock trailer. He left his own truck behind for Chad's Saturday date-night. Not that Chad cared much what his dates thought of the scarred pickup. If they minded, he'd just let them drive him in their car. Dirk backed out the dirt road, then steered through the gate and toward Interstate 80. There wasn't time to try Krista's phone number. He'd rung her number numerous times last night and the night before. Both nights the line had been busy, either busy or off the hook. Could the angel of his life be avoiding him? She'd seemed anxious to get rid of him the night of the concert. But it had been a weeknight and she did have work the next day. Maybe she'd just been tired. He'd call tonight. Then that was it. Three strikes and you were out, he figured. If he continued calling after that, he'd feel like a stalker. Before he steered onto the ramp at the interstate, Dirk gassed up at a truck stop. Against his better judgment and his good intentions not to call until tonight, he dialed Krista's number. There was no answer. It was Saturday. She must be out shopping. By 6 p.m. he met up with Loretta Lambert. They transferred Log On onto to Dirk's trailer and had her

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truck towed to an AAA service station. He pulled up in front of The Chez Cowboy Hotel & Casino with every intention of dropping her off and gunning the ole' pickup for home. "Dinner's my treat," offered the truck-driving, bull-breeding, redheaded stunner, Loretta Lambert. "It's the least I can do to make up for your inconvenience." Any other time he'd have jumped at the chance to escort her to dinner, but since Krista, well, Krista was all he could think about. Dirk shook his head. "I want to get back tonight. Got a busy week ahead." It was a long haul for one day, but he was anxious to get the prize bull back to the homestead and check that email account, or so he told himself. It sure had nothing to do with his itch to have Krista, on the phone, in person, or anywhere he could wrangle her. "Come on," Loretta persisted. "You have to eat, and we haven't even toasted our partnership yet. We'll do it with Perrier if you insist on driving back." She smiled a perfectly stunning smile, which was nowhere near as heavenly as Krista's. "I hear The Chez has a terrific French restaurant." Krista had mentioned the French restaurant. Maybe he'd stay for dinner, and then he'd have a real icebreaker to tell her whenever she answered her phone. "It will have to be a quick celebration," he said. "Okay, partner." Loretta's eyes twinkled, stunningly. Everything about the woman was stunning, right down to her voice. Yet, all that stunning faded next to thoughts of Krista "After I check in at the desk," she said, "we'll wash off the road dirt and relax over dinner." Dirk glanced down at his bull-mucked jeans and shirt. He thumbed his Stetson to the back of his head. A little soap and water, a clean shirt and a full stomach couldn't hurt. He nodded. As they entered the lobby of the hotel-casino, a wall of gleaming, glass-encased telephones beckoned. "Just a sec," he said tugging Loretta back by her hand. "I have a call to make." Her stunning one-hundred-and-ten-pound body slumped against his shoulder. "I don't know where you get your energy. I'm so exhausted and hungry," she said. "I couldn't even think about calling home let alone driving home." He plopped his duffel and her suitcase on the floor. Taking her by the shoulders, he sat her down on her red luggage. "This won't take but a minute."

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He dialed Krista's number. Her phone rang and rang. That must be one heck of a shopping spree was she on. *** "Isn't that cowpoke yours?" Ellie asked, looking up from the directory in The Chez Cowboy lobby. "I don't have a cowboy." Krista continued browsing the directory for the French restaurant that Gracie, the head librarian, had recommended. "Well, that certainly looks like your hottie over there in a Stetson?" "I don't have a hottie eith--" Krista's eyes darted to the bell-ringing, smoky casino side of the lobby. "Where?" Quickly, she scanned the slot machines for tall Stetsons. She spied a white hat and a black hat and a straw hat, but none on men over six feet tall. "That's some head swivel you've got for a woman who's not interested." "Could we talk about my swivel later." Krista turned to Ellie. "Where's the hottie, er, Dirk?" "Oh never mind." Ellie bobbed her head toward the phones. "It couldn't have been your Bronco-driving cowboy after all. He had his arm around some redhead when he sauntered off thataway." Krista stared at the row of empty phones. "Which way is thataway?" "Toward the elevators." Ellie stretched up on tiptoes and tapped at the directory. "Look, the restaurant's on the third floor." Krista eyed the small crowd near the elevators. She spied the back of a tall Stetson. "Neither of us has eaten French cuisine before," Ellie said. "Are you still feeling adventurous?" "Yes." Krista grabbed Ellie by the arm and steered her across the wagon wheel shaped lobby at a mild gallop. "And if we hurry we can catch the next elevator." "Are you that hungry?" Ellie wheezed when they halted within a nose length of the elevator doors just before they clapped shut. "Or were you hoping to get a gander at the cowboy- hatted hottie with the redheaded female?"

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Chapter 7 "It's later." Ellie winked at Krista from behind the oversized, padded, green menu in the oversized, padded, green booth of The Chez Cowboy's French restaurant. "You said we'd talk about your interest in the serious-minded hottie later." "Okay, I admit I was curious to see if the cowboy in the lobby was Dirk," Krista said. Sometimes Ellie could be exasperating. "Now can we order?" Krista went back to studying her menu. Thank goodness English explanations followed each French entrée. Les Pommes Frites--fried potatoes. French fries, she imagined. "Order away." Ellie giggled. "But skip the appetizer. Your mouth is going to be too busy explaining that statement." "How I wish yours was busy with crepes or a soufflé, anything but chewing away at me." Krista didn't mind though. Ellie meant well. Her concern was sort of like the large, pink, multiple vitamin Krista choked down every morning with her orange juice. Ellie's giggle turned into a snort. "I can do both. I can eat and talk at the same time." "Lucky me." "And getting luckier by the second." Ellie rolled her eyes up to where a tall figure shadowed over them. Slowly, Krista looked up into the dark, smiling eyes of their waiter. She promptly kicked Ellie in the shin under the table. "I'm Jacques," the white-jacketed waiter with the white-toothed grin said. "I'll be your server for the evening." Jacques turned out to be more than just a pretty face. He translated the menu into layman terms, made suggestions as to what to order, and winked seductively before he left. "Oh, to be single again." Ellie polished the diamond in her engagement ring with the edge of her crisp, white napkin. "His dinner suggestions sounded superb." Krista sipped at her water. file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (76 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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"What sounded superb was the way those French words rolled off his tongue. What did we order, anyway?" "I'm not sure. Puff pastry with salmon and asparagus, I think." Krista shrugged. "Jacques guaranteed it would be delicious." "Anything that hunk serves is sure to be delicious." "Oh, Ellie." "What would you say if he called?" Ellie asked. "Who? Jacques?" Krista's eyes widened. "He doesn't even have my phone number." "No, silly. The hottie that you're not serious, but are curious about," Ellie teased. "The truth." Krista paused. "I'd have to explain that I wasn't his computer blind date and that I'm not interested in a serious relationship at this time, maybe never." "You're positive you're maybe never interested?" Krista nodded and fingered the white petals of the rose arrangement centering the table. "Good, then you're not going to be interested in the fact that a stunning redhead just strolled into the restaurant on the arm of your hottie." "No." "Yes," Ellie said. Krista slunk down in the padded green booth. "I don't want to see him." "You won't have to. The maitre d' seated them way over there." Ellie wriggled out of her black jacket while pointing her chin toward the opposite side of the room. "Thank goodness for dim lighting." "If you can't see him," Ellie patted Krista hand, "then rest assured he can't see you. And he doesn't know me except for one fleeting, drive-by wink."

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Krista sat up. "How stunning is she?" "She's not all that." Ellie squinted her eyes and craned her neck. "She looks to have fat fingers." "Oh, Ellie." Krista leaned in. "Do you think we can out sit them? Does Miss Fat-Fingers look like a fast eater?" Ellie patted Krista's hand again. "From the looks of her, she's a picky eater." "Stunning and with a figure. Do I even want to be seen in the same room with her?" Ellie shook her head. "Not if you're interested in competing. But since you're not, why get stressed? Eat up and enjoy. After all, stressed spelled backward is desserts." Dinner and two desserts later, Krista still felt stressed. Ellie didn't. She was on her third glass of wine, cracking jokes about her money problems and still refusing any offers of financial aid from Krista. As Krista forked into a piece of chocolate meringue cake, she prompted, "What course are they on now, El?" "It doesn't matter." Ellie wiggled her orange brows. "He's headed this way." "No." Krista's cake-filled lips formed the silent plea. "Yes." Ellie's orange ringlets bounced. "I thought that might be you." When Dirk reached their booth, his familiar, belly-dipping voice rang out. "I've only seen hair that shade of red once." The chocolate cake in Krista's mouth dipped and swirled and finally touched down with a thunk into her belly. Dirk's smile broadened and his hazel eyes sucked Krista in like the undertow of a wave. "Hi, sweetness," he said, then turned back to Ellie. "I spotted your red hair from across the room." "You seem to have your hands full of it tonight." Ellie smiled up at him sweetly. Dirk chuckled. "Oh, yeah, Loretta's a redhead, too." He turned and waved to the woman sitting across the room. Krista peeked around the booth in time to file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (78 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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catch his date wave one of her stunning hands, without a fat finger on it, in their direction. "Who is--" Ellie was cut off mid-verb. "I've been trying to get you on the phone for days." Dirk touched Krista's shoulder. "But now I see why there was no answer." "Shopping," Krista began. His hand massaged her shoulder through the silky fabric of her favorite blue blouse. A fire flared in her shoulder. Heat torched her arm, her torso, her toes. When everything was toasted to a crisp, the blaze flared upward. When the heat hit Krista's mouth, whatever she'd wanted to say crumbled and dried on her lips. "Shopping in a terribly exclusive bridal store for my terribly exclusive bridal dress," Ellie finished the sentence. "The dress isn't backless but I'm greenbackless." Ellie snorted a nervous laugh. "I'll probably have to leave the country rather than pay for it or the detective. Did Krista tell you I've hired a dick? Very Dick Tracy, huh?" She didn't wait for him to answer. "Of course I can always dip into Percy's embezzled foreign bank account." "Oh, Ellie," Krista said. Poor Dirk. The hair on his neck was standing on end. Embezzlement was no joking matter where he was concerned. She hoped it wasn't for Ellie, either. The wine, along with the strain of Percy's incarceration, must be getting to her. "Reno has such great shops and such great other things." Ellie's tone suggested that one of the other things might be the redheaded other woman seated across the restaurant. With the soft sole of her leather shoe, Krista put pressure on Ellie's instep. Ellie squelched her lips shut. Gratefully, Dirk didn't seem to notice. "I won't keep you gals from your dinner. I wanted to set something up with Krista for next week." His hazel eyes burned into Krista's. "How about Monday night?" His fingers released her shoulder and she was able to talk. "Monday night?" Krista wanted to blink, too, but her parched lids wouldn't close under the intense heat of his stare. Ellie was right about the man. He was hot. His burning effect cinched it for Krista. She was never going near him again if she could help it.

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"Then it's a date?" Krista's voice trilled all on its own, "Yes, it's a date." After Dirk said his goodnights, Krista watched his tight butt, er, jeans saunter away. Then she both swallowed and blinked. "What's wrong with you?" Ellie all but screeched. "My mouth seems dry and my eyes--" "I don't mean that. How could you say yes? How could he ask you out when he's here with another woman?" Ellie shrugged her freckled shoulders indignantly. Krista thought about her spontaneous yes for a moment. Tension eased from her body and she grinned. "Isn't it great?" "Great?" "Don't you see, he talks futures with a lot of women." Now that Krista saw his interest in her wasn't so serious or so exclusive, she could easily curb the tenderhearted, but scary feelings he'd stirred in her. Why her heart felt lighter already. "And that's a great thing?" Ellie crinkled her nose and a cluster of freckles bunched into one orange blot. "That makes him open season. As long as I'm not his one-and-only, I can go out with him again." "Open season on hotties, huh? Just watch you don't get burned, my friend." Ellie pushed her untouched goblet of ice water toward Krista. ***

A double date? Dirk had never been on a double date before and never wanted to, especially not on one that included his brother. Dirk stamped on the gas pedal and wheeled the Bronco around a slow-moving car. What was Chad up to now? Chad was known to go to extremes to prove his point or win a bet. Dirk suspected this point involved Krista.

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Dirk had planned on taking Krista to see a movie, to cuddle in the dark, put his arm around her warm, very female body, and sneak in a few innocent and not-so-innocent kisses. But thanks to Chad, he and Krista were going roller-skating. He didn't like Chad's idea one bit. It reeked. Chad reeked. But Krista had warmed to the suggestion the moment Chad shouted it into the phone. Next time Dirk was on the phone with Krista, he was locking the office door. He pulled his truck up alongside the yellow aluminum building that housed the skating arena. His fingers wouldn't unclench the steering wheel. Then he spotted Krista's Volvo several rows away. His fingers turned limp. His shoulders slumped. Just the sight of her car had him wimping over her. Dirk hopped out of the truck and slammed the door. He might as well get this roller gig over with, as distasteful as that was, and the quicker the better. Then he'd have a go at ditching Chad so he could get Krista to himself for part of the evening anyway. Not just for kissing, either. They had to talk. The more Dirk thought about Ellie's outburst over her inability to pay for her Reno shopping spree or her detective, the more he worried. Just how did Ellie plan on paying up? Would she involve her loyal, naïve, next-door neighbor and best friend in something nefarious? Once he entered the building, getting Krista alone grew from a flicker of an idea to an urgent order of the night. She looked so edible in navy track pants with a pink and white stripe, like a peppermint stick, running down each of her long, long legs. The heck with his usual chocolate cravings. Suddenly, he had a hankering for mint. The hankering grew, too. Running amid those pink peppermint stripes was shiny, pink snaps. She had on tear-away track pants. Now there was something he could get his teeth into. Visions of candy sticks danced through his head while he tamped down the urge to unsnap those little pink snaps, slowly, and lick his way up her ankle, to her calf, her knee, her thigh. How was he ever going to skate? As his hankering for mint grew larger, his jeans grew snugger. He shucked his hands into his pockets and gave himself some moving around room. He all but galloped over to Krista. When he reined to a skidding stop, he grinned. "Hi, sweetness." He couldn't think of another word to say. "Hi." She smiled back. "Where's your brother and his date?" She stretched up on her toes and tried to peek over his shoulder.

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"Oh, I'm sure he's around here somewhere." From over her head of angel-silk hair Dirk scanned the arena. Not that he cared if Chad ever showed up, but he needed a break from the tempting sight of Krista before his zipper popped. He didn't intend to gaze on the little lady again until his galloping hormones and his straining jeans were under control. "I haven't skated in a long while," her angel-soft voice cooed up at him. He sucked in his breath and kept his eyes nailed to the skaters rolling by. "There he is." Dirk jerked his chin toward a couple grappling around the rink, out of sync with both the music and the other skaters. Krista turned. "Is he the man leading the woman in red around? The woman who looks as if she hasn't skated in a long while either?" That was putting it mildly. The woman looked to be flapping her arms like some kind of red- winged bird trying for a takeoff. It was not a pretty picture. She was definitely not Chad's type. "Yep. That's Chad so I'm guessing that she's his date. He might be showing her around until his date arrives though. One never knows with Chad." "I see." The top of Krista's head nodded. "If you're ready to roll." Dirk felt ready, ready to get this over with. Chad had better keep his eyes, and hands, and charms away from Krista. Dirk's better judgment told him he should've kept his brother home on the farm until after he and Krista had exchanged wedding vows. A quick elopement was looking like a plan, a definite plan. He steered Krista toward the skate rental window. Once they were booted up, Dirk got cold feet, er, skates. It had been about ten years since he'd skated last, and not very well then. He glanced at the lighted sign on the far wall. Amid a desert mural of cactuses and stars, a Ladies Only alert blinked. What a relief. "Looks as if you're on your own for the first round." He gripped the simulated, wooden corral railing that circled the rink. "I could use the warm up," she said cheerfully and stepped down beneath the glittery flashing disco ball that flickered across the floor. His angel on wheels was a sight to behold, all grace and fluid motion. In moments, she was in rhythm with the music and the other skaters.

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Then he spied Chad, still struggling along with the woman in red. They were cautiously working their way over to an opening in the rail by groping the walls. Dirk waved and breathed easy. At the pace they were groping, Chad would meet up with Krista by the time to say good night. For a long while he watched Krista as her bottom bobbed in time with the music. Then he scoped out the other skaters. A woman with Instructor splashed in white across the back of her black shirt glided backward, coaching a young girl, "Bend your knees. Don't forget to bend your knees." Dirk nodded. That information might come in handy. All too soon the sign on the wall flashed: Everyone Skate. Within moments Krista rolled across the floor and stood facing him. Dirk stepped out onto the floor and grabbed hold of Krista's outstretched hand. "Be gentle, sweetness." But he knew she would be, Krista was always gentle, and soft, and warm. Dirk gripped her hand with an iron tight grasp that he was sure must have her fingers turning blue. Once they got underway, he slackened his hold, and she slipped her hand from his to wriggle her fingers. He smiled at her, and his feet veered in opposite directions. Krista slipped her arm around his waist. With her support, he was able to aim his feet forward again. Dirk slid his arm around Krista's tight little waist. Now that felt comfy and secure. "No wonder your wheels are locked. Your back is stiff as a ramrod." Her fingers massaged the base of his spine in light, soothing circles. "Bend your knees and relax," she coaxed in her angelic voice. Wimp that he was, he obeyed. In seconds his spine wilted, his muscles turned rubbery, and his knees crumpled. "Thank you," he said to top it all off, as if he were grateful for the privilege of becoming her wimp. But rolling along arm-in-arm, hip-to-hip, thigh-to-thigh with Krista wasn't such a bad thing. Much as he hated to admit it, Chad did know what he was doing with this roller skating stuff. So maybe the beat to the music was a lot faster moving than he and Krista were, and maybe the flickering glittering disco ball was adding an otherworldly, slow-motion dimension to everyone around file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (83 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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him and the sweet angel on his arm, but all in all this skating gig didn't reek after all. Well, until the sign flashed Men Only. "Not this man." Dirk nudged Krista with his hip, aiming her toward the nearest exit from the floor. What lousy luck. Chad leaned against the simulated, wooden fence post near the exit, blocking all thoughts of a clean getaway. The lady in red gripped his hand. Standing seemed more difficult for her than skating had been. "Hey, bro, how's it rolling?" Chad said, ignoring Dirk. He grinned his practiced, lady-killer smile at Krista. "Evening." "Hi," Krista said politely. Dirk forced a civil smile. "Skate without me, baby brother. I'm sitting this one out with Krista." "What say we all sit it out over at the juice bar?" Chad waited for the woman in red to agree before he gingerly wheeled her over to the café area. Dirk lagged behind with Krista. "Bellying up to the bar would be more Chad's style," he said in a low voice. "Chad must be serious about this one."

*** So this was Chad. Krista studied him from her seat in a barrel chair at a table for four. He was handsome, in a too cute way, and friendly, in a too touchy-feely a way, and charming. He had the same overly charming manners of her ex, the dentist. Chad fawned all over his date. He all but lifted and tucked her into her chair, situating the barrel so she couldn't roll away. He chucked her under the chin and brushed her brown bangs out of her eyes. When he finally sat down, he massaged her fingers while he read her the menu. "What's your desire, sweetness, a Carrot Colada, a Spinach Splash, or a Banana Bluster?" His date squinted up at the menu board through thick eyeglasses. "I'll have an apple juice." Determined not to fall back into her old, boring ways, Krista ordered adventurously. "A Strawberry Safari."

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Dirk smiled at her. With his rugged looks, his captivating eyes, and his drop-dead voice, he had it all over Chad as far as she was concerned. "BRB," Dirk called as he and Chad bellied up to the counter to order the drinks. "BRB?" Krista repeated, blankly. "Be right back," the woman in red said in a voice barely audible. "Computer lingo." Did everybody know the lingo but her, Krista wondered? In the next few minutes, Krista found out the loudest thing about the woman in red was the red blouse she had on. When Krista asked, the woman mumbled in a low tone that her name was Ann. Deciding Ann was shy and not boring, Krista tried another question. "First time skating?" "First date." Ann's cheeks reddened to match her blouse. She lowered her huge brown eyes, which her eyeglasses magnified, and stared at the laminated, simulated-wood tabletop. "Oh," Krista said. "I don't know Dirk's brother, but I'm sure he's a nice man." Silence followed. Krista was glad when she heard rowdy male voices followed by the pitter-splatter of overflowing juice. Within moments Dirk and his brother rejoined them. "Here you go ladies." Chad plunked tall, frosty drinks down in front of the ladies. Seated again, he proceeded to peel the paper from Ann's straw with great fanfare. Krista grinned impishly and handed her straw to Dirk. Not to be outdone by his brother, Dirk obliged. He ripped open one end of the paper and blew into the straw, sending the narrow wrapper sailing at Krista. She giggled. He pinched her cheek and with a laugh plopped a pink and white striped straw that looked a lot like a peppermint stick into her glass. After a long swig of his Choco-Carob Chill, Dirk cocked a brow at Chad. "Aren't you going to introduce us?" "Sure thing." Chad took Ann's hand. "Sweetness, this is my brother Dirk and his file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (85 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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date..." "Krista," Dirk finished for him. Sweetness. Krista smiled. You could tell they were brothers. Chad used the same pet name for his date that Dirk used. "We've already introduced ourselves," Krista said. "Then that leaves just me. I'm Chad, the younger brother." Chad shook Krista's hand. "Glad to meet you. You're quite the skater." "Wait a minute," Dirk interrupted, "I still don't know Sweetness here's name." "It's Ann, but she goes by Sweetness." Chad smiled at Krista. Krista didn't have the foggiest notion why he was smiling at her. She picked imaginary lint from her sleeve and searched for something to say. She sipped at her drink, then cleared her throat. "Dirk calls me 'sweetness' sometimes." "Goes by?" Dirk interrupted. "As in an author or an actress?" "No, Sweetness is a manicurist." Poor Sweetness, er, Ann, Krista thought. They kept referring to her as if she weren't even present, and she seemed too timid to butt in. Krista decided to do it for her. "So, Ann, where did you two meet? Over a manicure?" Chad didn't strike Krista as the manicured, buffed nail type. "Oh, no. We met online. On the computer. I'm more chatty in the chatroom and through the email than in person." Her voice trailed off. "Chatroom, email?" Dirk cocked both brows now. "I didn't know my baby brother knew his way around the computer all that well." "You taught me how to check and trash your email, bro." Chad put his arm around the back of Ann's chair and massaged one of her thin, uptight shoulders.

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"Chad and the computer? Will wonders never cease?" Dirk said in disbelief before he turned to Krista. "What a coincidence. All four of us met online." "Yeah." Chad beamed like he had the inside line on some joke. "I forgot to mention that to Sweetness." "Is this your first date, also?" Ann asked Krista. "No, it's our third," Krista said, sitting back into her barrel. Ann frowned. "We were supposed to meet two weeks ago but I had to go out of town unexpectedly. An emergency." "Another coincidence. That's when we met for the first time. Lucky for me," Dirk patted Krista's hand, "nothing kept Krista away." "Fortunate for Krista, too," Chad agreed while fawning over Ann's shoulder. Krista smiled at Chad and then at Ann. "I hope everything is all right now, Ann." "Yes." Ann looked up from sipping her apple juice. "My Granny fractured her hip. After she was released from the hospital, I stayed on with her until I could urge her to let home nursing take over. Gran's doing fine now." She blinked up at Chad. "Chad's been so understanding. I thought after not hearing a word from me in almost two weeks he'd be, you know, unreasonable, thinking I'd stood him up." "It would be a first for Chad." Dirk chuckled. "Not the unreasonable part, the getting stood up part." "Thanks, Rancher." Chad jabbed at his brother's arm from across the table. "Thanks for letting me use that lucky nick of yours." "I didn't think you knew my nickname." Krista wished she knew where this was going. What with Chad jabbing and Dirk chuckling and everyone talking about nicks, even Ann looked puzzled, and she knew about computers. If Dirk and Chad were both Ranchers and Ann was Sweetness, then, who was she? Oh, no. Krista felt the color drain from her face and her eyes widen as she realized. Her eyes met Chad's twinkling ones over the top of her straw. "What's your computer nick?" he asked, smiling as if waiting for the punch line to a joke.

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Krista stopped sipping. Suddenly all eyes were on her. She pulled her gaze from Chad and searched Dirk's face. A fleeting flash of sadness touched his eyes. He knew. She could tell by the muscle that twitched in his jaw. Apparently, unlike his brother, he didn't see the humor in the fluky situation. "Sweetness," Dirk answered for her. "Now that is a coincidence," Ann said, her mouth hanging open in a small O. "What kind of computer do you have, Krista?" Chad asked. Krista thought real hard, trying to remember the brand name from some computer commercial on TV. "Chad," Dirk said, getting out of his chair and standing, "we can talk computers any time. Right now I have to call it a night. I have an early morning." "I understand the concept of wanting to make hay while the sun shines." Chad grinned up at his brother. "You mean bale hay, don't you?" With a loud scrape, Dirk shoved his barrel chair under the table. "It was nice meeting you, Ann." He nodded, stiffly. "Yes, and good night." Krista rose and shook hands with Ann and then Chad. He gave her hand a nohard-feelings squeeze. Dirk steered her by the elbow toward a bench near the lockers. The metal bench reminded her of the one in the mall where they'd first met. She felt guilty now, and even guiltier when he knelt and helped unlace her skates. Dirk worked diligently, and silently, on her laces. She stared at his crown of unruly blond locks and wondered how to say what she had to say. Even though she knew he had other dates, the look of hurt she'd seen in his eyes for that split second made her feel as likable as a damaged, bargain basement second. A flash of anger she could handle and probably even deserved. His disapproval wounded her. He had no intention of talking or giving her an opening to explain and make things right. She could tell by his jaw. It still twitched. While he undid his skates, she tied her running shoes, about three times, perfecting the bow and giving him space. When he sauntered off to return both pairs of rental skates, she checked her face in the mirror file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (88 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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of her on-sale, Estee Lauder Attitude Compact. She held the compact in the palm of her hand...one, two, three, four. She didn't have to count to ten to get an attitude reading. The compact clearly spelled out the word STRESSED. Well, she hadn't needed any mirror in her hand or on the wall, as the fairy tale went, to tell her that. With a snap, Krista flipped the lid shut. She'd given him all the space she could. Even if he didn't want to hear an explanation, she planned to muddle through one, somehow and now. With long purposeful strides, Dirk was coming toward her jangling his truck keys around his thumb. She jumped up and gushed, "Dirk, I know you think I lied, but I didn't, not really. I'd like to explain." He put his large, firm hand on her shoulder and kept right on walking. He propelled both of them gently toward the exit. "I'm listening, sweetness." She wished he didn't call her sweetness. The reminder made her feel criminal. Krista talked faster. "I know how you feel about liars. Not that you don't have every right to feel the way you feel after that socalled trusted employee lied, cheated, and stole from you and Chad. Oh, and about Chad." She took in a gulp of air and gushed some more. "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you in front of your brother." Dirk swung the exit door open and ushered her out into the starless night. "Don't worry about Chad." His tone was cooler than the night air. "About my pretending to be Sweetness," Krista persisted. "Your invitation to dine and dance was such a grand, unexpected birthday surprise. I know I should've told you then, but it looked as if the real Sweetness had stood you up." That didn't sound like something she should be reminding him. "Of course, that wasn't so. She, the real Sweetness, explained that tonight." They stopped walking. Krista realized they were standing next to her car. "Don't worry your pretty head, Krista, my belle." Dirk held out his hand for her car keys. She handed them over reluctantly. Nothing had been settled, and that last remark of his had her dander up. "I'm not a pretty little head or your belle." "Or my sweetness." "I never said I was. I just happened to be at the mall wearing red. If you recall, I did try to tell you later that evening." "You did?" He fumbled shoving the key into the lock.

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"I told you not to assume, and you said, 'Point taken.' But you see, you assumed that I was your computerized Sweetness anyway." He unlocked the car door and held it open until she slipped behind the wheel. He tilted her chin upward. His hazel eyes held hers for a moment. "I understand." She didn't think he did. But before she could blink, he all but vaulted over two cars and disappeared into the night. His tires squealed out of the parking lot before Krista had a chance to buckle up.

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Chapter 8 Dirk rubbed the back of his neck. He'd been at the computer most of the day, most of the last couple days actually. The office looked it, too, scattered papers, spilt coffee, an empty candy dish. Setting up a RDMS--the relational database management software system--and recording spatial data had taken up most of that computer time. The rest he spent keeping his mind on the keyboard and off the big computer glitch in his life. Krista. Dirk had known his computer screening couldn't be wrong. Finding out that Krista wasn't the real Sweetness proved it. She'd been the wrong woman all along. Those little discrepancies fell into place. Like her lack of punctuality and lack of wit, not that Ann had shown great wit either. Then there was her lack of a functioning computer, and her biggest lack of all, the truth. He tried not to think about any of those things or about his dream angel, his lying, cheating angel. Make that ex-angel. How could she look so angelic and be so devilishly deceptive? He leaned back. The old, oak chair let out a loud creak. He thudded his booted feet up alongside the monitor and closed his tired eyes for a second. No more than a second passed before the door banged open. The scent of Chad's aftershave pierced the peaceful air, followed by his annoying bellow. "Still cooped up with your computer?" Dirk opened one eye, taking in Chad's clean, tucked-in, western shirt and his tooled leather belt. "Go away." "Now that I think on it," Chad stroked his freshly shaved chin. "You've been rather reclusive since Monday. Did you wrench something skating?" Just my heart. Dirk opened his other eye. Whatever Chad's game, he'd best keep both eyes open. "No," Dirk mumbled. "Good." Chad winked. "You're going to need a strong back when it comes time to put up the hay." "You won your point, now go away."

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"I'm going." Chad wriggled his hips. "Swing dancing at the Fireman's Hall." "Taking sweet Ann?" Dirk asked. Dirk wondered why he'd felt no instant rapport with Ann, no instant attraction like he'd had for Krista. After all, Ann was the real Sweetness and his real, fail-safe, computer date. But he couldn't think about that now. Chad was talking. He listened up. "I'm meeting Mayzie." Chad raised a brow. "Care to double again?" "I have other plans for later on." His plans were with the shower and his lumpy mattress. Funny, his bed had never seemed lumpy before. But lately lumps had been keeping him awake. "With anyone I know?" Chad asked. Dirk didn't cotton talking about how eager he'd been to marry the wrong woman. Neither did he want to tell Chad that Krista was no longer his intended. Chad being Chad would go in hot pursuit of her just because she was an eligible female. Chad was way out of Krista's league. He'd chew her up and spit her out like hayseed. Not that the lying, little cheat didn't deserve it. No, nobody deserved Chad. "I'm going out with Krista." Dirk knew how foolish he looked and sounded when Chad's eyes widened with surprise. But Dirk felt a powerful need to protect her. Chad kept his cool. "Where to? Did you search engines on your computer for late night haunts?" He chuckled. "I can give you directions to lovers' lane?" "Grow up." Dirk shook his head. But the night on the mountain when he'd made love to Krista in the Bronco under the stars flashed in his mind. If Chad only knew what he knew about lovers' lane. "Women go for my boyish charm," Chad bragged. "Then don't waste it on me." "Not about to." He waved and swaggered out the door. "Night." His polished boots thudded down the hallway. Dirk wondered how long he could hide the fact from Chad that he was no longer seeing Krista. Maybe file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (92 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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he should've come clean and taken all his lumps tonight. He clunked his booted feet off the desk and onto the floor. He faced another lumpy night anyway. Dirk paced the office for a bit before he strode upstairs. He shucked his jeans and work shirt and stood in a stinging cold shower for twenty minutes, then he paced his bedroom. Krista haunted him. Why couldn't he let her go? He'd only known her for days, instead of months as he'd originally thought. She'd never even been in the chatroom. As it turned out, she didn't own a computer. Why had she lied about herself and led him on? For kicks? A lull in between heists with her penniless neighbor and the jailbird boyfriend? At the restaurant in Reno, Ellie had so much as admitted that she was broke except for an embezzled foreign bank account. Was Krista's name on it, too, he wondered? He really didn't know Krista at all or what she was capable of doing. On another hand, he knew her too well. He knew every inch of her soft, angelic body. He knew what her hands and her mouth were capable of doing. He paced faster. If he intended to sleep, making love to Krista wasn't something he should be thinking about. He grabbed the latest copy of the Progressive Farmer magazine from his dusty nightstand and plopped onto the pine bed that had belonged to his parents. Eventually, he dozed off. Later, his lumpy night's sleep brought him face-to-face with the fact that he had to see Krista again. He had to warn her off about Chad. Geez Loueez, he couldn't forget about Ellie either. What if Krista was innocent? He felt honor bound to at least voice his suspicions to her about Ellie. With the way Ellie spent money--not that Krista was a slouch in that department, but for the moment he'd give his angel-faced liar the benefit of the doubt--Ellie would either have to pilfer the till at the bank where she worked or know where a not-so-innocent Percy had the embezzled funds hidden. Either way Ellie was as dirty as a bull-rider eatin' dust after gettin' thrown. *** "You wanted to ditch him anyway. Remember, he doesn't fit in with your plans." Ellie curled up onto the sofa while Krista dusted the furniture. She scratched Kitty behind the ear, and a contented purr hummed from the gray fur ball. "You're right. I'm not about to follow in Mom's footsteps and stay put for any man, not at the expense of my own dreams. I tried that with the gum-massaging dentist. I didn't like it." Krista dropped her dust cloth onto the gleaming mahogany coffee table and flopped onto the adjacent turquoise chair. She'd been cleaning since she'd gotten home from work and a pleasant smell of lemon oil scented the air. file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (93 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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With a meow, Kitty leaped out of Ellie's arms and pattered down the hallway toward the laundry room and her litter box. Kitty swatted the door shut with her paw. "It's a privacy thing." Ellie grinned. "El," Krista moaned, tugging on the hem of her T-shirt. "I feel bad. You should've seen his face. I felt like an angel fallen from grace." "I imagine clouds are like pedestals, not very roomy. There isn't much margin up there for error," Ellie said. "I should've told him before he found out about the mix up on his own." Krista dangled her bare foot over the arm of the chair. "Too bad he didn't take it with a wink and a chuckle like his brother, Chad, did." "Everybody looks at things differently. Some people even get their kicks watching other people squirm. Look at poor Percy. A fella from the accounting firm took a leave of absence just to sit in on Percy's trial." "Did he testify?" Krista stopped waggling her foot. "Nope, he just sat there, smiling." "Can you imagine that?" Krista's mouth gaped open a bit. Ellie hugged back a shudder. "He was always jealous of Percy's promotion." "How is poor Percy doing?" "Okay, I guess. Percy never complains." Krista sat up and patted her friend's knee. "You're doing all you can for him. How's the detective's investigation going?" "PI work is dirty work, the detective says. I told him I'm all for getting down and dirty if it gets the job done any sooner." "How underhanded is down and dirty?" Krista sat up straighter. "Don't rush into anything, El. Let me loan you the money for an unhurried, aboveboard investigation as soon as the house sells. I'm cash poor until then." "No more loans." Ellie gave her a weak smile. "I don't want your money. I want Percy home. I miss file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (94 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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him." She sighed. "Sometimes I think I should be robbing a bank instead of working in one." "Take a few breaths, El. Deep ones. Soon as you calm down, we'll think of something that doesn't involve guns or ski masks." Ellie's breathing was even. "Honestly, Krista, I don't intend to rob the bank. I just want to stick my freckled nose where it doesn't belong and take a peep at some things I shouldn't peep at." "Ellie, I think I'm about to have a cow." Thoughts of Ellie getting caught and losing her job and more than likely compounding her and Percy's legal problems had Krista's heart pounding. "You don't know how to sleuth." "Don't get yourself frazzled just yet," Ellie said, way too calmly for Krista's liking. "When I meet with the PI on Saturday afternoon I'm sure he'll instruct me in what to do." "Maybe you should think over your part in this, El. At least until Monday. Sleep on it for a few days. Whatever it is." Krista sucked in a breath. "Maybe you'd better come clean and tell me all the sinister details." "Shhh." Ellie tapped her finger to her lips. "I hear footsteps outside on the porch, near the door." Krista's eyes widened. "The less you know the less you can testify to." Ellie crooked her impish, freckled dimples into a wide grin. The doorbell chimed and Krista jumped. Ellie uncoiled from the sofa and padded down the freshly, dustmopped hallway. "Here Kitty, Kitty." Krista tiptoed to the door and peeked through the peephole. A distorted blue blur stood on her stoop. A cop? Krista peeped harder. A male blur, a blurred Dirk. She never thought she'd see him again. She stuffed her T-shirt into the waistband of her jeans, patted her tied-back hair, and cracked the door open. "Hi." "Hi. Can I come in? I'd like to talk." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. His hip stuck out at a snug-jeans fitted angle. His denim shirt was open at the neck and cuffed at the wrists. He looked rugged and attractive. Krista glanced down at her bare toes and studied a loose thread on the hem of her jeans. She guessed she owed him his say. "Sure." She swung the door open wide.

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"Hi and good-bye." Ellie winked at Dirk when she squeezed by with Kitty in her arms. "We'll talk again, later," Krista called to her friend's back as Ellie trotted down the walk toward her house. "Not until after my appointment." Ellie tossed her a backward wave. Krista ushered Dirk into the living room. "Let's sit down." He brushed off the back of his jeans and sat down on the edge of the sofa, glancing uncomfortably at the white cushions. "Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, water, hot chocolate?" Krista's voice trailed off. She tapped one barefoot with the other. "No thanks." He dangled his clasped hands between his knees and stared at his thumbnail. Krista edged down onto the arm of the nearby chair. Her knees almost touched his. She waited. "About the other night," he began in a low, slumbering voice that unexpectedly curled her toes. She fidgeted, and bumped his knee. Heat flashed through her. Even now, knowing he thought less of her than dirt under fingernails, knowing that his way of thinking was probably the best thing for her-because after all she wanted no part of staying on a ranch forever--even knowing all that, he still excited her. His hazel eyes searched hers for a second before he continued. "I'd like to explain about Chad. He had his own agenda for bringing Sweetness around. He's hell-bent on proving to me that computer dating is flawed." Flawed meaning her and her white lies. Krista nodded. "Do you understand what I'm getting at?" He watched her eyes. The heat melted her toenail polish. She wanted to fan her face, but the spell of his voice and his eyes kept her mesmerized. He'd better start talking faster, a lot faster, or the spell would levitate her right upstairs to her bedroom and tow him along with her. "Yes," she said to those eyes. "I don't think you understand. Chad might call you." file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (96 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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That snapped her out of her trance. "Call me? Why?" "He has a knack for apologizing, cajoling, flirting--" He stopped. "You don't get it, do you? I don't want to be blunt." "Be blunt." She had no idea why Chad would want to charm her. According to Dirk, he had his hands full with RFD singles. "He'd try to bed you." The way Dirk said bed made her tummy flinch. A spasm followed, but lower. Then what he said sunk in. Krista gasped at the idea of Chad and her in bed together. "Chad will go to any lengths to prove his point. I just wanted to warn you." "Fine." Krista shrugged indignantly. "I've offended you." Dirk nodded knowingly. But he didn't know. Krista mulled it over for all of second and then decided to enlighten the clueless, insensitive... hottie. "I can tell it never occurred to you, but I wouldn't be oh-so willing. A white lie is one thing, but going to bed with any male that asks is another. Please leave." Krista stuck out her chin, daring him to do otherwise. But he didn't move. "I, I knew that," he said. "No, you didn't. Look who's lying now." His eyes turned dark and serious. "Chad has a way with women." "Not with this woman," she said quietly. "I knew that, too." The golden flecks in his hazel eyes softened. "Way deep down, I did. Still, I wanted to warn you. Explain what Chad was capable of. I'm sorry I went about it the wrong way." "We've both made mistakes. I'm sorry, too, about the dating mix up and my part in it." "It was more than a mix up." He bit off his words and spent some time studying her turquoise and pink file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (97 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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flowered carpet before he looked up. "Chad's not the only reason I came," he said. Oh, no. Krista held her breath. Please don't let him ask me out. She didn't know if she had the strength to refuse. Yet, she had to. He'd interfere with her travel plans, her future, her life, not to mention her heart. He had a way about him that softened her heart. The way his body moved, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the way his voice lowered with concern. He looked up at her. "It's about Ellie. I have some doubts about Percy, too." Seemed her heart was safe for the moment, but not her friends. "They're my friends and I resent the implications you're implying," she said way too fast to pick her words correctly. "I'm afraid Percy's problems are going to get Ellie in big trouble." "How do you know that?" But Krista knew how. He'd overheard her and Ellie from outside the front door. "I don't know, not for sure. I'm worried she'll get in over her freckled nose and you'll drown trying to save her." Krista bit down on her lip. She was worried, too, about the detective's covert plans for Ellie. Of course, she didn't know what those plans were so she couldn't really tell Dirk. Could she? "Krista, please, don't you do anything foolish. I saw the For Sale sign when I came in. You're not sacrificing your house to help Ellie out, are you?" His normally low, rumbling voice didn't sound like distant thunder now. It sounded a bit stormier. "I did tell Ellie I would lend her the money if the house sold, but she refused. Yet again. Besides, that's not why I'm selling." He breathed out his relief. "I'm glad of that." Why did he have to be concerned as well as attractive? Krista needed to put distance between her and his charming, sexy, concern. "So that's settled." Krista stood up, ready to show him out before she inadvertently, or advertently, spilled what little Ellie had told her. Dirk had such a persuasive voice, and he was so good at making whatever he said sound reasonable. "Not so fast." He tugged her back down onto the cushion. "What about the embezzled funds?" file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (98 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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"There are no embezzled funds." "That's not what Ellie said in Reno." "Ellie was joking." Krista shrugged. "It was a bad joke. Percy's innocent." "So are you. You may be too innocent and trusting for your own good." "Ellie wouldn't rob a bank. She just said that--" Krista chomped down on her next words. "Said what?" His eyes narrowed. "She's not thinking about robbing the bank, is she?" He jumped up and paced nervously. "No, even she isn't that brazen." "I resent that remark. You'd better leave now." She pointed to the door. He stopped in front of her. "I'm sorry," he said soothingly. "Let's sit here quietly and work this out. Okay?" Krista had doubts about working with Dirk. "There's nothing to work out." Her spine stiffened. This time he sprawled comfortably on the white sofa. He rested his booted, extended size foot on his knee and his strong, muscled arm along the sofa back. After awhile Krista began to squirm. She dearly would like to discuss Ellie's predicament with someone besides Ellie. Dirk was honest to the extreme. If he swore to secrecy, Krista believed she could trust him. After five more minutes of quiet time, Krista cracked. "No cops, okay?" He nodded. "I've been through this embezzlement thing. I know how shorthanded a small town sheriff's department can be anyway." "There was no embezzlement. Not by Percy." "But there's still the embezzlement's backlash. Without Percy to help with the bills and mounting expenses Ellie's not only out there alone but out of dough." "And maybe out of a job," Krista thought, a little too loud. Out loud actually. She flinched.

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"Laid off?" Worse. She shook her head and plopped onto the arm of the chair. "Fired?" At the best. If the bank didn't bring charges against Ellie for whatever sneaky business the detective was putting her up to. "I won't betray your friend," Dirk said. "I'm trying to help. I swear." And in the bargain if he gained insight into Krista's character and why she'd toyed with his affections, all the better. "I'll take you at your word." When she leaned in and looked him in the eye, their knees touched. But could he take her at her word? Could he ever believe in her again? "What's Ellie up to?" he asked, fidgeting at the mere touch of her knee against his leg. "I'm not sure. Something the PI wants to investigate down at the bank. I'm afraid Ellie will get caught up in it. Lose her job for snooping, at the least. A fine or police charges at the most." "That's a natural fear." "Everything is happening too fast. She meets the investigator on Saturday afternoon. I wish she'd take more time to think things through." Krista crumpled her brow. "This whole situation is suffocating her. If she got away from it, got some breathing space, I'm sure she'd think more clearly." "Distance might help." And he should take his own advice and head for the hills, or at least the homestead, instead of sitting here playing kneesies with Krista. "I'm open to suggestions," Krista said. "We could hog-tie and gag her." He chuckled at Krista's frown. "Or make her miss her meeting." "How?" Krista's frown lifted. "We could detain her somewhere." "We? You'd be willing to help me?" "Yes," Dirk said. When he realized what he'd just said yes to, he wanted to stand up and sit down again. file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (100 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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He did have common sense. He knew he did. He just couldn't corral it at the moment. Most of his common sense had a way of evaporating whenever he got within perfume- smelling, touching distance of Krista. Up on the mountain, he'd lost track of time, space, and her Volvo. The thrill of her body drove him senseless. In all honesty, the thrill involved more than her body. An emotional closeness cloaked them that night. The intimacy had been staggering. "Where could we go?" Krista's question brought him down off the mountain and back into her living room. A flicker of sense returned, or maybe not. "Not the ranch. With Chad out at the homestead the ranch is too risky." Would you listen to that? Dirk couldn't believe he was going along with this out of sight scheme. Going along? Shoot, he'd initiated it. "We need some place that's not within easy walking or hiking distance," Krista mumbled. "I don't know of any spots. Do you?" "There's a cow camp up in the hills," he said off the top of his head. "It's seldom used anymore." Nor were his brains it seemed. "Cow camp? Is that like camping out? I've always wanted to camp out." Her face beamed. And his heart beamed. Was she ever beautiful. But inside and out, he wondered? What of her lies? Was she naive and innocent or clever and cunning? A trip to the cow camp just might reveal her true character, he reasoned. "Cow camp is very much like camping out," he said. "There's a cabin with no running water and no electricity. We'd need supplies...candles, blankets, food." Krista by candlelight, he remembered that image all too well. And Krista under the blankets, that one knocked the breath right out of him. Spending time in a remote spot with Krista might not be the answer to anything. It could prove riskier than this harebrained plot. "I have candles and blankets and food." Her eyes twinkled. She was really into this camping gig. If the plot fell through, so would the camping. Rather than disappoint Krista, he'd just have to take her anyway. The heck he would.

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"We'll have to leave Saturday morning to ensure Ellie misses her afternoon appointment with the detective. If we don't return until Sunday evening that'll give Ellie two days to clear her head." Krista squinted one pretty brown eye at him. "Is the whole weekend open for you?" "Yes." A weekend isolated with Krista and her friend Ellie should be enough time to discover who Krista was. Was she a liar? A criminal? One heckuva an actress? If so, had Dirk been her wimpy, gullible audience? "What am I going to tell Ellie?" she asked, looking harmless and trusting and turning his heart and mind to mush with a blink of her dainty eyelashes. "Tell her you won a getaway to the mountains." He was giving himself over completely to the no-brainer scheme. It wasn't a no-brainer, he reasoned. It was a way to settle things, for her to show her true self, one way or the other. "Or make something up," he said. "Regardless what you may think," her words were stilted, "I'm not a prolific liar." Her bottom lip trembled. Trembling lips meant one thing. Tears. Please, no tears. If Krista cried, he'd kiss her. He wouldn't be able to help himself. "I don't think that," he said quickly. "I understand you didn't out-and-out lie when we met. You let me assume, and I assumed all on my own." There. Her trembling lip stopped. It stopped with a huff is what it did. "Don't patronize me. What should I have Ellie assume?" A huffy Krista was a whole lot easier to resist than a teary one. "Tell her we're planning a camping trip to the mountains. That's not a lie. We are going to the mountains," he said. "Let's see, and you want to show her the cabin beforehand. Get her opinion before you commit to spending several days there with me." He smiled proudly. "You're good at this assuming stuff." He wasn't sure that was a compliment, but he nodded anyway. "What time Saturday?" He stood, anxious to wrap this up. He'd done enough planning and scheming for one day.

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She stood, too, and faced him. Her brown eyes stared up at him, all dewy and unblinking. She came up to his shoulders. If he inclined his head their lips would touch. "Eight a.m. I'll tell Ellie we can be back by mid-afternoon." Krista's breath was wispy and sweet against his face. "I'll have to shop tomorrow evening for weekend camping gear. Oh, and ask Mrs. B, next door, to keep an eye on Kitty while we're gone." "I'll pick you up at eight sharp." He swallowed hard. It took a lot of restraint to continue this conversation without dipping his head down to meet Krista's tempting mouth. "Me and the overnight camping supplies will be ready." Her tongue peeked out, a sliver of pink. Please, don't, his mind begged. Don't lick your lip. But her tongue slipped out anyway and slicked along her bottom lip. He did the unthinkable. He tipped his head to swallow up that lip. A mere breath from buckling under, he grabbed her arms and stopped himself. He tried to keep track of the fact that she'd deceived him, on their first date, and second, and third, and who knows how long she'd have continued if Chad hadn't discovered her lies. "The time is settled on then." He nodded and made for the door. "We'll finalize the rest of the plans over the phone."

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Chapter 9 Saturday morning rolled around before Dirk had a chance to come to terms with the wild scheme, as if he ever could. But he figured a couple of days with Krista would give him a chance to see how permanent her lying streak went, and if a thieving-outlaw streak went along with it. For some reason, he wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. Dirk stood in the chilly, gray morning on Krista's stoop poised to knock. But before his knuckles rapped the oak, the door swung open. "Quick, get in here." Krista grabbed the sleeve of his gray sweatshirt. In her jeans and plaid flannel shirt, she looked more like a lumberjack than a camper. A cute strong lumberjack. She yanked him through the door. "Is Ellie awake?" he asked. "I didn't see any lights on next door." Actually there hadn't been many lights on anywhere on his drive into town. "She's not an early riser." Krista pointed to the pile of gear stacked in the hallway. "I'm packed." She smiled proudly. One smile and he was at her mercy already. He fought off wanting to kiss those proud lips. "Overpacked would be more like it." He scowled at the stack to keep his eyes from her mouth. "You certainly did shop for the occasion, didn't you?" "I didn't have any camping-out clothes and Ellie needed some things to wear, too." "Did you pack things other than clothes?" He heaved a duffel bag up from the floor and hefted the strap of another one over his shoulder. "Food, candles, etcetera." She pointed to several cartons. "I can tell you never camped before. When you camp out the idea is to pack light. Sometimes you sleep in the same clothes you wear." Or in none. Her eyes widened. "You're kidding." "Nope," he grunted. Nothing about the situation was funny. "Could you get the door and those sleeping bags? We'll stow everything, then wake our orange-haired Sleeping Beauty." file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (104 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:36 PM]

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Before they finished stuffing the cargo area of Dirk's truck, a head of familiar orange hair flashed from the upstairs window of the house next door. "Are you two up already?" "She caught us. Think fast. Assume something quick." Krista elbowed Dirk and waved to her friend. "Yes," Dirk called to Ellie. "Krista's taking along her new camping gear to show to you in its natural surroundings." "That ought to be fun." A black, pajama-clad Ellie hugged herself against the cool, dewy morning air. "I'll be down in five." "We'll lock up the house while you get ready." Dirk wrapped his arm around Krista's shoulder and guided her across the driveway toward the house. "That part went well," he said. "You are quick with the assumptions." Krista flipped his arm off her shoulder. "Let's get locked up." They halted at the foot of the oak staircase. He glanced at her and then at the top of the stairs. Nope, he'd best stay down here, with his feet grounded. "You take the upstairs and I'll check downstairs." He strode down the hallway. He heard the patter of her feet on the steps. "Check the doors, the windows, the faucets, and irons," he called up to her, "curling and otherwise." Within five minutes, they stood at the front door again. "Ready?" His hand hovered over the doorknob. She smiled up at him, smelling fresher than spring flowers. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes sparkled with expectation. She inhaled a deep breath and said, "Ready." A chipper and grinning Ellie waited for them at the vehicle. Her little black dress melded with the black fender of the four-by-four, but her orange hair flamed against the misty morning. "How far is it?" she asked when they had all climbed aboard. "I have to be back by five." "A couple of hours out and a couple of hours back..." Dirk started the motor and shifted into drive. Barely able to see out of the back window for Krista's stuff, he maneuvered down the driveway using his sideview mirrors. Soon they were away from the residential area. "I've never known Krista to camp out," Ellie said to Dirk, their eyes meeting in the rearview mirror. "I imagine there won't be a shopping mall in sight. How did you ever talk her into it?"

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Dirk was touched by Ellie's concern for Krista, even if it bordered on being downright nosey. "Krista's excited about the prospect of fresh air and sunshine." He shrugged. "Not to mention camping togs and outdoor recipes." "That's my girl." Ellie's orange brow arched in the mirror. "This trip is kind of unexpected, isn't it?" "More than I care to admit." Dirk tapped on the steering wheel. Krista rubbed her palms on the thighs of her jeans. Nice thighs. Nice palms. Dirk jerked his eyes back onto the road. Ellie crossed her arms. The vinyl seat squelched when she leaned back. Everyone fell into an easy silence until Dirk cut off at the next exit that sported a food-phone- lodging sign. He veered for the drive-thru window of a fast-food place. Then everyone chirped up at once. Dirk cranked down the window and translated for them into the staticky machine. "Coffee black. Coffee with sugar and milk. Coffee with artificial sweetener. Orange juice, two. No, three. Two ham and cheese breakfast sandwiches. An egg, bacon, and cheese. No, hold the cheese. Four hash brown potatoes." For the next few miles, paper wrappers scrunched and the aroma of coffee permeated the air. Then the Bronco started its long trek over the bumpy, winding, dirt road through the rocky hills. Thick brush of chaparral and sage stretched out endlessly. The pungent scent of sagebrush filtered in through Dirk's open window. An hour later they approached a rectangle shaped, single-pen cabin constructed of a sandstone and wooden frame. The small dwelling with its gable roof looked as if it were leaning against the hillside. Dirk had driven up yesterday afternoon and cleaned it up, checking it for vermin. Not that he didn't have a dozen other things that needed doing out at the homestead. What with calving, branding, and turning the herd out onto federal grazing lands, he'd hated leaving Chad shorthanded. Chad had his hands full with the cultivating and irrigating. Dirk had copped a plea about scouting out livestock. Then he'd taken Chad's cell phone and promised he'd check in. Spring through summer was a busy time for farmers and ranchers, and a bad one for this lame-brained idea. Not that any time would've been a good one. file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (106 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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When he opened the tailgate to unload the truck, Krista nudged up alongside of him. She had a very female and arousing nudge. Her soft breast rested against his arm and her fluttery whisper warmed his ear. "Let me soften Ellie up. Okay?" "Be my guest. But the gallon of Downey you're going to need for softening seems to be the only thing you didn't pack." She smiled a sweet thank you. "Go." Dirk shushed her on her way before that magic smile took hold of his heart. By his second trip, he'd lugged the last carton in. He didn't think the twelve by sixteen, two- room cabin had enough space for three people and Krista's gourmet vittles and new outdoorsy outfits. He crossed his arms and leaned against the door to watch Krista cajole Ellie. Her dark hair hung loose around her face. Concern touched her brown eyes making them appear browner and rounder. She was such a loyal friend. He hoped Ellie and Percy appreciated her. "Wait until you see these, El." Krista waved a brand-new pair of leather, hiking boots under Ellie's nose. "They're Garmont GTX. I got them on sale at a thirty percent discount. I figured they'd come in handy if I decide to take a hike." "Now there's an idea." Ellie pointed her pert nose toward the exposed log beams of the ceiling. "Have you really looked around this place, Krista? It's not a cabin. It's a shack." Dirk butted in to distract Ellie from expounding on the dilapidated state of the place. "Gee, what big feet you have," he said in his best bad-wolf voice. But Krista's feet were graceful and delicate, like everything else about her. Ellie's lip twitched, briefly. Next Krista held up a pair of hiking shorts with six pockets. "Tah-dah. Top of the line, and on sale, too." "More hiking gear. Good choice. Let's take a hike on out of here." Ellie wriggled away from a cobweb Dirk had missed with his sweeping. Dirk jumped in again. "What big pockets you have." He grinned, but Ellie was busy checking the table for splinters.

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Next Krista held up a khaki shirt, with button-tab sleeves and roomy bellows pockets on the shirtfront. "You'll never guess what this shirt's called. An Ex Officio Adventurer Shirt. Can you imagine that?" Krista laughed. Dirk cocked his head to better study the shirtfront. "And what big...nope, I'm not going there." Ellie snorted back a laugh. To reward her for her lapse in her inspection of the place, Dirk crossed the room and began tossing her a few candy-bar-sized packets from one of the cartons. "Those are energy bars," Krista said. "I bought Cliffside Chocolate, Rimrock Raspberry, and Mountain Melon." She counted them off on her slender, dainty fingers. Dirk had an urge to lick those pink- enameled fingers. It wouldn't be the first time he'd tasted them. But it may be his last if he knew what was good for him. When it came to Krista he didn't know, though. He was here to gauge her honesty, he reminded himself, and not to suck her fingers or any other body parts. "Okay, okay, I'm energized already," Ellie called out when she'd caught all the bars in her freckled hands. Chocolate. He'd heard Krista say chocolate. Chocolate might distract his taste buds. Dirk dug through the box until he found another chocolate energy bar. "Look at those, El." Krista pointed to two cobalt-blue sleeping bags. "Are you ready for this? Marmot Wizard DriClime. They come in sizes. Even short, for you. Isn't that a trip?" "This is a trip all right. You two are just too cute. If you're done with the show maybe you'll tell me what gives?" Ellie peeled back the foil wrapper from a raspberry energy bar, then plopped down on the rickety, wooden bench of the trestle table in the cooking area of the room. "You can't seriously be thinking about camping here." "It's about your appointment this afternoon." Krista sat down next to Ellie and signaled for Dirk to join them. Carefully, Dirk sat down on the wobbly bench across from the women. He needed this situation with Krista, Ellie, and the embezzlement settled. He itched to know if Percy and Ellie had committed the crime and if Krista was merely a good friend and an innocent bystander, or if she was more, like a conniving accomplice and a cold-hearted tease. "Go on." With a crunch, Ellie bit into the granola fruit bar. Dirk unwrapped his chocolate bar. file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (108 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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"You're going to spend the weekend here with us instead. To put a little distance between yourself and your problems. Look at things from a different perspective." Krista took a breath. "At least until Monday." Soon as Krista finished, he chomped into the chocolate. "Listen up you two. Percy's the love of my life and I'll do whatever I have to." Ellie stood up and marched the length of the room, which wasn't all that long. Her black high heels circled the eight foot area with a nerve-wracking click, click, click. "I knew she'd be stubborn," Dirk said when he'd finished chewing his last bite of chocolate. Krista tagged behind Ellie. "We know you love Percy and that's exactly why you shouldn't pursue this, this, whatever it is." Ellie stopped and Krista bumped into her back. "Sometimes, best friend," Ellie turned and went nose-tonose with Krista, "I have trouble following your mode of thinking." Dirk had to go along with Ellie on this one. "You wouldn't want to worry Percy, would you?" Krista didn't wait for Ellie's answer. "Percy would worry if you ended up out of a job or in trouble." "Ooh," Ellie and Dirk said in unison. "I'll think on it," Ellie said firmly. "But right now I'd like to know what you brought that I could wear, because these pantyhose and heels are killing me." Krista knelt down on the rough wood floor and dug through a forest green duffel bag. "Sweats. Black ones, naturally." "Black is good," Ellie agreed. "And black jeans and tops and hiking sneakers." Krista tossed the duffel bag at Ellie's feet. "I'll go change into something more comfortable." Ellie snatched the sweatsuit from Krista, winked at Dirk, and flounced across the floor with an over-exaggerated wiggle before disappearing into the other tiny room. "It's going to be a long weekend." Dirk groaned.

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Maybe he should have cut his losses and given up on Krista, stayed out on the homestead. There was a fifty-fifty chance he'd end up doing that anyway. Instead, here he was, consorting with possible liars, cheats, and thieves. The exact people who made his gut churn. Except Krista didn't make his gut churn in quite that way. The churning feeling she brought on was more like a longing. A longing to have her and hold her and love her. Krista stood in front of him, smiling and eager. "Let's unpack the food. I have to start marinating the dehydrated meat for dinner." "Hmm, dried meat." That put a whole different spin on his stomach. "I'll fetch a couple of buckets of mountain-fresh spring water." Water would come in mighty handy to wash down dinner. Dirk grabbed his Stetson from atop his sleep roll and plunked it low on his brow. Next to the straw broom he'd used for sweeping the day before, hung two wooden buckets on rusted spike nails. He latched onto the pails and hotfooted out the door. When he returned, Ellie and Krista were reading aloud from an ink-blotted, yellowed paper tacked on the wood wall. Posted next to it was a cartoon clipped from some ranch magazine and some buckaroo's penciled sketch of a horse called Buckskin. "Number one, don't use the propane gas unless there's an emergency." Krista looked at Ellie. "What do you suppose constitutes an emergency?" "An urgent need to boil water of course." Ellie ruffled her fingers through her orange bangs. "For instance, if you had to deliver a baby." "I see," Krista said. Dirk wondered how he'd gotten himself trapped in the wilderness with these two. Who did they think would be having a baby? He'd yet to see a pregnant cowpoke or buckaroo. He shook his head and went about setting up the butane camp stove he'd unloaded earlier. "Number two," Krista read on. "Replace any wood you burn." "If for some reason I should be forced to spend the weekend, for instance," Ellie turned to Dirk with a knowing eye, "will we be burning any wood? I'd hate to chop logs." "Split logs," he said. "But, no, we won't. That's why we brought the sleeping bags. Toss them onto the bunks and you'll be plenty warm."

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"Good." Krista nodded. Ellie didn't. "Number three. If you follow these rules, you're welcome to stay. Otherwise stay out!" Krista's eyes rounded. "Can you imagine that? Lucky we're rule-abiding citizens." She smiled at Ellie. "Right," Ellie agreed too readily for Dirk's liking. "Oh, Ellie." Krista hugged her. "Trust me, you'll be glad you stayed. You'll thank me before this is all over." "Or, maybe if I don't stay, you'll end up thanking me." Ellie trotted over to where Dirk was hooking up the portable cook stove. Dirk wondered what that was supposed to mean. Krista followed Ellie. "Is that a camping-out stove? I can't wait to use it." Ellie patted Krista on the shoulder. "You're a great cook, but someone had better help you out when you fire up the stove. But not me--I have a five o'clock appointment." "One you can postpone," Krista reminded her. Dirk couldn't get past the mention of cooking, which brought to mind the dried meat and made him want to gag again. "Let's get out of here for a few hours. Who's ready for a road trip?" "Oh, count me in on that." Ellie raised her hand. "Back to town and civilization would be a nice road." "We're not going in that direction," Dirk said while Krista swiped a red thermal bag from the shelf and slung it over her shoulder. "Ellie, I promise this will be fun. I packed a picnic lunch," Krista encouraged. Ellie slammed the door on the way out to let them know how much fun it was going to be. Dirk drove them down to a grassy, creekside spot shrouded with high sagebrush, juniper, and a thin line of quaking aspen. The sky shone endless blue without a cloud marring it. Except maybe for the storm cloud named Ellie in the backseat. As Krista talked Ellie out of the SUV, Dirk lugged his sleeping bag out and unzipped it to use as a picnic blanket. Thanks to Krista, they lunched on hearty deli roast beef sandwiches with tangy horseradish. She also fussed with napkins and condiments and served homemade apple pie for dessert. Her domestic side file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (111 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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made him feel all fuzzy and warm. If it weren't for her possible outlaw side, she'd make an ideal wife and lover. Ideal for him, anyway. He liked the smell of her, the look of her, the feel of her. He liked the sound of her voice and the way she moved. He even liked watching her sleep. She and Ellie had settled down for a nap as soon as they'd finished eating. Dirk studied Krista for awhile. The steady rises and falls of her sweet breath. The flutter of her eyelids as she drifted into REM and dreaming. He wondered what she dreamt of. Did memories of their kisses and their lovemaking float through her head as they did through his? Or did she dream of bank heists and scams and wrapping wimpy ranchers around her pretty, pink-polished finger? Dirk dozed into an uneasy, light sleep. When Krista roused, he heard her graceful footsteps picking across the stones of the trickling creek. He rolled to his side and propped his head on his hand. She looked back when she hit mid-creek. She waved to him, then ran her sneakered foot over a rock to gauge the slickness of the moss. Once secure, she bent and dipped her hands into the cold water and touched a splash to her face. She peered into the clear stream, then called to him. "Are there fish in here? Can we go fishing later?" "I'll take you fishing for lake trout higher up the trail tomorrow." Dirk watched as she sponged up the surrounding nature. She looked like some forest nymph with the sunshine dancing around her, glinting off the water. She stood and made her way over the stones. With a slight splash, she landed on the other side of the creek. She sniffed at the sparse, blue lupine wildflowers and all but purred when she held her face up to the sun. The shopaholic, small town girl was something to see out here backdropped by natural sunlight, blue skies, and shades of greenery. Mother Earth agreed with Krista. Her face shone. How could a face that beautiful not belong to a beautiful, honest soul? Krista glanced at Dirk again. His lean body lay lax and at leisure. He fiddled with a blade of grass. His lazy look tempted her to lie down beside him. But that would never do. Instead, Krista put more distance between them by meandering up the slight hillside. She skipped over some bunchgrass and brushed by a few wildflowers. Deciding Ellie could act as a buffer between her and Dirk and the feelings he roused, Krista called out to her friend. "Nap time is file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (112 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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over. Come join me." Ellie cuddled deeper onto the sleeping bag. "The only one I'm joining is Percy in a marvelous dream." Dirk tossed the blade of grass he'd been twirling. All six feet of his masculinity rolled upward. He shucked his hands into his pockets and squinted at Krista against the sun bouncing off the creek water. "Maybe you should come on back before some animal joins you." "What animal?" she protested, not ready to deal with Dirk's sexy appeal yet. "I haven't seen an animal all day." "You haven't looked." He pointed to the craggy mountains behind her. Her eyes followed the direction of his finger, glad for the distraction. "All I see are snow- capped peaks." She shaded her eyes with her hand and looked harder. "Yes, that's all that's out there." In two long strides and one short splash, he leaped across the narrow creek. A few more strides brought him next to her, so close that she could feel his body heat. "Up there." He stretched his arm over her shoulder and scorched her upper body before aiming her nose toward the cliff. There on the bluff outlined against the horizon stood a lone mountain goat with spiked, black horns. She tilted her head, and her cheek touched his jaw. Electricity shot through her. He smelled of aftershave and man, a lusty combination that perked her nipples and her imagination. She struggled to comment on the goat. "He's magnificent. Can you imagine that? I almost missed him." Dirk cupped her chin and directed it downward. Amongst the stubby grass, a rabbit stared up at her, twitching its grayish-tan furry ears. The last time Dirk cupped her chin, he'd kissed her. She remembered the moment, and the kiss, all too well. They had been on a different mountain and they had been naked, skin to skin, heart to heart. An intimacy that reached to her soul had joined them that night. And scared the heck out of her. When she looked up, his eyes were trained on hers. His hand still cupped her chin. His fingers felt strong and warm and coaxing. She wondered if one small kiss could cause one big setback. One kiss couldn't curb her future travel plans or plant her feet permanently into ranchland soil, she reasoned. She hoped not because she wanted to kiss him, badly. Their breath mingled for a moment, file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (113 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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warm, tantalizing, urgent. Then he spoke. "There are plenty more critters than that hare and you pretty much missed them all." "I did?" she asked, dreamily. Her sight glazed over and her lips started to pucker. His breath was moist and smelled from cinnamon and apple pie. He was a mouthwatering temptation. She could almost feel his lips on hers. Her memory was sharp when it came to memories of Dirk and his lips, too sharp for her own good. "Trust me," he said. "You did." Oh, she did trust him. With everything but her wanton heart. "I guess I did," she whispered. "I think you'd be safer on the other side." But she already knew that. He tucked her under his arm, guiding her back across the creek toward Ellie and the safety of numbers. She let him tuck and guide. Something about his concern was touching, despite the fact that she didn't want any marriage-minded rancher touching her heart. Her lack of resistance to the close call with his lips unnerved her. As soon as she reached Ellie, she shook her friend awake. In no time they were packed into the SUV. Dirk drove them back to the cabin. "How are you going to sleep tonight, El?" Krista climbed down from the bench seat of the Bronco as soon as it stopped, relieved to be away from the nearness of Dirk's body. "I know you were up and out early, but you slept away most of the afternoon." "Believe me. I'll sleep when it's time." Ellie toted the empty red thermal bag inside and tossed it onto the lone shelf in the kitchen area. "It looks as if I won't make it back in time to keep my appointment today, so do you want me to fire up the stove?" Ellie sounded irked but resigned, easing some of Krista's tension. "Yes, I can't wait to try out this new recipe." Krista poured water from one of the buckets into a basin and lathered her hands. Cooking should keep her mind off both her pouting friend and the rugged rancher.

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Ellie fiddled with the controls on the little stove. In short order, both burners were lighted and the flames adjusted. Across the room, Dirk sat on a spindly, ladder back chair, reading a computer periodical. "Where's the bathroom?" Ellie asked. Krista shrugged, absently. Dirk peeped up from his magazine. "The outhouse is next door." Krista watched him thumb toward the left side of the cabin's wooden front door, if you could call the place a cabin. Krista was inclined to go along with Ellie's mode of thinking. The place looked more like a shack. "Did you say outhouse?" Ellie was having a royal cow. "I didn't know, El. Honest." Krista raised her hands. "I've never been here before or in an outhouse either. Should I come along and guard the door or something?" "No, I'll be all right. You cook. The stove's ready. We don't want to waste any fuel." When Ellie returned, she washed up and plopped down at the trestle table. Krista stopped dicing the rehydrated, dried meat. "Was it creepy?" "Not if you keep an eye on the spider in the right hand corner. Oh, and watch out for splinters." "I'll go before dark. I'm not getting caught out there during the night even if I have to bust a gusset." "Smart girl." Ellie rooted through a carton until she found paper plates, cups, and napkins. "I'll set the table as soon as I find the plastic forks and knives." Krista fussed in the cooking area. Soon the aroma of stewing onions and herbs swirled throughout the cabin. From his precarious perch on the lone chair on the opposite side of the cabin, Dirk seemed unusually quiet. The way he pressed his nose into his magazine made smelling anything other than printers' ink impossible. Krista wondered if their near kiss had gotten to him, too. When she set the foil casserole dish onto the center of the table, Krista called to him. "Dinner's ready." She wiped her hands on her jeans and sat down on the long bench next to Ellie. file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (115 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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Dirk seemed to drag himself to the table. With slow, exaggerated moves, one at time, he fitted his long legs over the bench. All the spring had gone right out of him. The near miss of a kiss couldn't have effected him that much. He must need nourishment, and quick. Krista ladled a large, steaming helping of the stew onto his plate. Then she served Ellie and herself. "It's delicious," Ellie declared as soon as she tasted her first bite. "It is?" Dirk wrinkled his nose, sniffed at his fork, and closed his eyes before putting the stew into his mouth. "You sound surprised." Krista frowned at him. "Krista's an excellent cook," Ellie said, "once she gets the hang of the small appliances and stuff." Dirk swallowed. "She did wonders with this dried meat. I can hardly tell it's not real." "It was real once," Krista protested. "What am I saying? It still is real meat." "What's this stuff called?" he asked before he gulped down a large glass of water. "Cowboy Stew." Krista forked up a mouthful. "I found the recipe on the package." "Cowboy Stew. That would make it beef," he said, "unless the cowboy's horse died."

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Chapter 10 "The worst has happened!" Krista yelled. Her high pitch woke Dirk, but he didn't rouse until she shook his bedroll. He stuck his head out of the sleeping bag. "That's some nightmare you're having." He blinked the sleep from his eyes. "Calm down before you wake Ellie and every varmint in a ten-mile radius." "It's about Ellie. She's gone." Krista pointed to the other room where the women had slept. "Something's happened to her. You have to check the outhouse." "That wouldn't exactly be proper." He reached out and pulled his jeans into the sleeping bag. He wriggled into them. "I can't go out there alone. It's still dark, well, kind of anyway." Her bunny-eared slippers eyeballed him accusingly. He looked up at Krista from his spot on the hard, wooden floor. She had on jeans and a nightshirt emblazoned with Librarians are Novel Lovers splashed in pink letters across the front. Now there was something Dirk wouldn't mind looking into. "What time is it?" He stood up and hopped around, stuffing his bare feet into his boots. Krista glanced out the window. "A dark pre-dawn. Better bring a flashlight." Once outside and near the outhouse door, Krista whispered, "You watch my back while I check inside." "Don't bother." Dirk flashed a circle of light to the place where his truck had been parked. Nothing but a lonely clump of bunchgrass stared back at them. "She's gone. And the cell phone with her. I left it in the glove compartment." "Looks like she changed her mind about staying. She'll come back for us once she handles whatever she has to handle with the PI." Krista followed the stream of the bouncing flashlight back into the cabin. "So you're suggesting we just sit and wait?" Dirk sat down and tapped his fingers on the wooden plank table. He hadn't planned on being left alone with Krista. "And eat breakfast." With that Krista started rustling pans. "If you light the stove I'll brew coffee and file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (117 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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scramble eggs." "You brought eggs?" "Powdered eggs. But they'll be tasty. The directions claim they scramble well with dehydrated peppers and tomatoes." "Yummy." Obediently, Dirk lit both gas flames, then dipped some water from a bucket and washed up and brushed his teeth. He changed into a clean shirt. The aroma of perked coffee filled the small cabin. As soon as Krista plunked the pot onto the table, he poured out two Styrofoam cups of the hardy, black brew. He sipped his and watched her toast bread over the open flame. Her breasts swayed slightly under her nightshirt with each glide of her fork across the open flame. The soft cotton material stretched tight over her jeans, outlining her rounded butt. One of her bunny slippers hopped up and down to the beat of her humming voice. When she turned toward him to slip the toasted slice of bread off the fork and onto a paper plate, her hair fell sleepily across her pink cheeks. He wanted to slide his fingers through that dark silk and awaken every inch of her body with hot wet kisses. Instead, he picked up the nearby knife and swathed butter on the toast. While he buttered every inch of every slice of warm toast that she piled in front of him, Krista scrambled and dumped, and scrambled and dumped, adding water and a bright-colored confetti mixture into the powdered eggs. What a waste of confetti. He could think of a better use, like a Welcome Home toss at Ellie. She'd better come home to the cabin and soon. A fifty-mile wilderness trek with Krista in her brand new, never-beenbroken-in hiking boots was not something he wanted to consider. Neither was being trapped in the cabin alone with Krista something he wanted to reckon with. In only the past few minutes, he'd felt himself getting sucked into her smile, and the rhythm of her breathing, and the heat of her body. His awareness of her was like a magnetic force that pulled at him against his will. She'd made a wimp out of him once, that night on the mountain under the stars. He didn't cotton to wimping out again for the sake of her amusement. Krista faced him with the skillet in her hand. Green streaks and red specks swirled throughout the bubbly mixture in the pan. "Toast and coffee will do me fine," Dirk said. file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (118 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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Krista dipped her fork into the multicolored eggy mess and sampled from the frying pan. "They taste a lot better than they look." Her nibbling lips could make anything look appetizing, he reasoned. She dished out two helpings, then laced her coffee liberally with powdered milk. The woman sure liked her powdered products. Dirk managed to wash down the eggs with big gulps of black coffee and lots of toast. Krista nibbled daintily at her eggs and toast. Slicked with butter, her glistening lips beckoned him. She bit off a small piece of toast, slipped it between her teeth, and chewed. Those teeth had nipped at his shoulder and neck in the heat of orgasm. He groaned silently as he recalled the moment all too well. The hardness in his jeans battering his zipper for release also recalled it too well. Butter and crumbs clung to her lips and he fought the urge to lick them from her mouth, throw her across the trestle table, and show her tongue what else his tongue could do. She brushed toasted crumbs from her fingers. Then with a slip of her tongue, she licked the buttery tip of her index finger. Dirk drooled over the opportunity to do the same to her finger, along with a few other digits on her body. This was sheer torture and it had to stop. He leaned across the table and before Krista swallowed her last bite, he swept paper plates, cups, and napkins off the table and into a large, plastic, garbage bag. His willpower and the part of his manhood that refused to wimp out kicked in. His practical side concentrated on the garbage. "We have to haul the trash off the mountain with us." Krista blotted her mouth with her paper napkin before flipping it into the bag with a graceful toss. "I never thought about the trash. I could use the metal utensils and plates on the shelf. But who will wash and dry?" Krista glanced at her manicure. "You mean who will wash and who will dry? I can do both, but it's only fair we split the chores." No more wimping out for this guy. She wasn't twisting him around her pinky or any other finger or toe. "I'll dry," she said. "Can you do your share of the cooking?" "Not with that powdery stuff, but I see canned tuna. I'll make the next meal." After he scrubbed up the coffeepot and pan, the morning stretched out endlessly. He did a few pushups. He reread the computer periodical he'd read the day before. The close proximity of Krista in the tiny file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (119 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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cabin made him mindful of her every move, her every inhale and exhale, her every utterance. Krista played solitaire with a creased deck of greasy cards she'd found on the lone shelf in the cabin. With the flick of every card, he flinched. He was jumpier than a bull at the bell. "I'm going to bathe in the creek," he announced. He rooted through his pack for a towel and slung it over his shoulder. Distance and ice cold water would cure what ailed him. But leaving Krista behind would worry him. She was far from an adept camper. He reasoned that icy, cold water was the safest place for both of them. "Care to come along?" he asked. "Yes." Krista jumped up from the table. She glanced down at her bunny slippers. "I'll put on my boots and grab some clean clothes and a towel." She halted before entering the tiny room where the bunks were. Her nightshirt with the enticing pink logo winked at him. She had been a novel lover: fresh, unique, lovely. And a liar, he reminded himself. He wondered what else she'd lied about. "Do you have biodegradable soap or should I bring mine?" she asked, smiling and eager. "Bring yours." Somehow he ended up lugging a full backpack while she tripped along, breaking in her new boots. Slogging along over rocky hills and sparse bunchgrass, she managed to dodge yellow flowering sagebrush and still search the cloud formations overhead for kittens and ghosts. They reached the crystal clear stream, where cottonwood and aspen trees intermixed with pines around the grassy bank. A scraggly willow touched its branches toward the stream. She looked around at the gurgling water and the treetops. "Compared to our picnic site yesterday, this spot is plusher and greener with deeper water." Her voice sounded breathless. Her forehead was dewy and her cheeks were flushed from the hike. The only other time he'd seen her look so heated had been while they made love. A pang of wanting hit him at gut level. He dropped the pack he'd lugged onto the ground. With a squawk, a jay that had been collecting stored pine nuts flew off. "There's more green and more water here because of the spring runoff from the mountain snow," he said.

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"Hmm." She lifted her hair up from her neck. "The air smells so clean and refreshing." She sorely tempted him to nip at her neck and work his way along her jaw line to her mouth. Instead, Dirk yanked one of her towels from the knapsack and spread the fluffy, pink-flowered terry onto the sunwarmed ground. "Want to wash or watch first?" he asked with a grin, but he knew watching Krista bathe wasn't going to be a laughing matter. Giving him a reprieve, she plopped down onto the towel and hugged her legs. "I'll wait." Once he moved away she began unlacing her hiking boots. With soap and a tattered green towel in hand, and clean briefs and socks stuffed into his pockets, he sauntered down to the water. From the partial cover of the trees and the bushes he kept an eye on Krista. And she needed eyeing. She noticed plants and flowers but was oblivious to most of the animal wildlife. Like the squirrel about to scoot by her. Yep, she jumped near out of her skin. Krista waved a shaky hand in Dirk's direction. "I'm okay." He waved back. She looked so darn vulnerable and adorable in her fuzzy yellow sweater with matching yellow socks. He wished she'd soften his libido and harden his heart instead of vice versa. When she settled down again on her flowery towel, he stripped off his shirt and jeans. He caught glimpses of her through the leaves and branches. Awkwardly, Krista massaged her feet through her fuzzy yellow socks. Even mottled by shadows and sunlight, the sight of her rattled his better senses. Dirk sank his heated senses, along with his other hot body parts, into the icy stream. He stretched out and let the brisk cold water rush over him. He held his breath and submerged his head under for a count of sixty. Images of Krista flooded his mind. Turning blue hadn't helped. He resurfaced. And so did fresh thoughts of Krista. Aside from her beauty and sensuality, she had this irresistible domestic streak. Despite the dehydrated, powdered products, she managed to whip up tasty meals. And the moves and hum of her body were a pleasure to watch in the process. Krista also had an admirable loyal streak. She believed in Ellie and Percy. If she gifted some man with that streak, he'd be one lucky saddle tramp.

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Dirk couldn't let himself think about her sexually or romantically. His body would blaze again. He'd want to take her right here in this stream and possibly drown her in his desire. Dirk glanced through the brush. Krista lay back on the towel with her arms cushioning her head. She was probably watching more cloud formations. She was a joy to be around. She found pleasure in things that others took for granted: falling stars, wildflowers, furry animals, food, books, dancing, skating. He laughed to himself. Shopping. His fingers, toes, and a bigger digit had frozen in the icy water and begun to shrivel. Quickly, he soaped up, rinsed, and waded out onto the bank. Gingerly, he picked his way over the rocky ground to the bush where his towel hung. Once he dried himself off, he climbed into his clothes. His undershorts, jeans, and open shirt clung to his damp skin. In his rush he left his jeans unsnapped. Minus socks and boots, he hotfooted up the bank toward Krista. "Next." Dirk dropped down next to her and ruffled the green towel through his hair. "Let me." Krista reached out and finger-combed his hair. The gentle pressure of her fingers and the light scrape of her nails felt good against his scalp, bone melting, muscle relaxing good. If she stopped, he'd surely die. She stopped; he managed to live. A few deep breaths and the thought of watching Krista bathe gave him something to live for. She rummaged through the pack, snatching up clothes and a dry towel. "I'd better walk you down to the water and show you the routine." He instructed her to hang her things on the high brush while she bathed. "My first outdoor bath. This is an adventure." She looked confident and sounded brave, sort of. He took up Krista's vacated spot on the flowered towel. Overhead, a bluebird sang a short, clear warble. From a nearby stand of evergreens, the scent of pine carried on a warm, sunny breeze. Through the dappling bushes he caught snatches of clothing, skin, dark hair. When he could take it no longer, he reclined and let the sunlight warm those images while he replayed them in his mind. What sweet torture. "Dirk," Krista shouted. Geez Loueez, he'd only taken his eyes off her for a minute. He hopped barefooted down the bank and splashed into the water. file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (122 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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She stood with her arms huddled across her chest, sudsy and trembling, staring down into the water. "What's in here?" She didn't lift her eyes. Ever growing ripples surrounded them as Dirk waded out next to her. "Fish," he said, not that any would come near them now. He'd stirred up enough water and noise to spook Orca the whale. He took off his shirt and draped it around her. Together they waded out of the creek. "Are you sure it wasn't a snapping turtle? Something pecked at me." "More than likely a fish brushed against you as it swam on by." "I wanted to catch fish, not bathe with them. I'm a terrible camper." But a gorgeous one. He grabbed the towel and wrapped it around her, rubbing her back, shoulders, and arms to warm her shivering flesh. Warmth, on the other hand, was not something he needed. Heck, Krista could melt snow, boil water. Burning up one lil' ole' rancher was nothing for her. She didn't need to try either. All she had to do was stand there, close to him, smelling like spring rain. His blood pumped hot, ramming through his veins, pounding in his ears, shouting to him, "Do it. Do it." He pulled her closer under the pretext of warming her. Her body felt soft and firm and fit against him in the precise way he knew she'd fit. He moaned. She felt so right in his arms. It seemed like a long time since he'd held her. How could he miss her so soon and so much? Her skin was cool to the touch and felt soft. Softer than washed cotton. He tilted her chin and cradled her cheek. Water dripped down onto her forehead from her hair. He licked at a drop with his tongue. Her lashes were damp and her eyes liquid brown and huge. Her eyes met his, held his, then fluttered closed. His heart shuddered. Again the drumming in his ears said, "Do it. Do it." And she was so darn doable. He lowered his head and his lips rested against hers with a featherlight touch. A small gush of air slipped from her mouth. Her lips felt cool, but her mouth was hot inside. His tongue licked at hers. He nibbled on her bottom lip and suckled it between both of his. Then he took her mouth with his. As he file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (123 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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sipped at her mouth and toyed with her tongue, he struggled with his desires. The desire of wanting her raged against his desire for the truth. Soon the pounding in his brain subsided. The shouts of "Do it. Do it" faded into silence. His brain became alert and functioning again. His hormones were ticked off about it, though. They protested with a loud groan. He held her away from him. "You'd better get dressed now." Her swollen lips, flushed cheeks, and glassy eyes invited him back. "And I'd better turn around." Hard as that was to say it was even harder to do. But he dug his bare heels in and pivoted to face the trunk of a gnarled cottonwood. The rustle of the bushes, the zip and snap of metal, the tamp of booted soles told him of her progress. Yet he didn't turn to face her until she announced, "All done." An angelic smile greeted him, beaming from a fresh-scrubbed face, framed by damp, tangled hair. Boy, did he ever want to kiss her again. But he'd be lying to himself if he did anything but keep her at cabin's length, small as the cabin was. He was here to find out if she was deceptive or not. If she was a criminal or not. Getting to the truth was more important than the heat of a moment, or a day, or the whole weekend. Because he couldn't feed his desire he settled for feeding his stomach. "What did you pack for lunch?" he asked as they walked up the embankment away from the stream, and the kiss, and the temptation. "Cheese, crackers, and fruit," she said softly. What she didn't say was cheese, crackers, and dehydrated fruit. "Hmm, banana chips. I've never tasted these before." And hoped never to again.

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Chapter 11 They lolled away the whole afternoon near the stream, soaking up the sunshine and chatting about books and movies--safe subjects--and not talking about Ellie and the mess she'd left them in. Afterward, Krista picked stray wildflowers as they trekked back to the cabin at a slow but steady pace. "No SUV and no Ellie." Dirk observed the obvious. "She'll be back for us," Krista insisted as they entered the cabin. Although she hadn't complained about breaking in her new boots, Dirk noticed she heeled them off the moment they were inside. "I'll rustle up dinner." Dirk dodged for the cooking side of the cabin before Krista could start rehydrating something that didn't resemble anything he recognized in the food chain. While he fiddled with the stove, he rattled a few pans and utensils so he could pretend not to hear her if she protested. She didn't protest though. With a skip and a hobble, she made her way into the other room. "I think I'll lie down for awhile. Wake me if I fall asleep," she called out. "Sure." Some dirty pans later, Dirk was ready to serve a tuna and rice casserole that he'd concocted, without a dehydrated vegetable or a powdered food product in it. "Krista," he called softly, standing in the doorway to the room where she slept, letting his eyes adjust to the dimness. The stark room had no window. Wooden slat bunks were piled two-high against both sides of the whitewashed, chipped walls. A narrow space to walk divided the bunks. Dirk edged in between the beds and bent down next to the lower bunk where Krista slept atop her sleeping bag. At first, he couldn't bring himself to shake her. She looked like an angel, wrapped in a yellow fluffy sweater. Her head rested on a pale-blue souvenir pillow with gold embroidered letters that he couldn't make out through the dark, silken strands of her hair. He picked up a strand of her hair, wanting to recall how silky it felt. His recall was dead on. He sucked in his breath and debated the why and why-not of kissing her awake. In no time the why-not turned itself into a why not? Her lips were still, so still that the idea of parting them with his tongue and making them sigh looked file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (125 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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like a matter of life-and-death. Her skin looked like ivory satin. He ran a finger over her throat to touch the softness. She flinched. With a murmur, she swatted his finger and rolled over onto her side. He nudged her shoulder. "Krista," he called her name louder this time. The low, rumbling voice calling her name woke Krista from the adventuresome dream she'd been having. No states were involved, except the state of undress, hers and that of a certain man with hazel eyes. Eyes that roamed her body and made her skin flush hot. Eyes that captured her while she experienced an orgasmic ride. To awaken to those hazel eyes startled her. She didn't know whether to run or pull Dirk down into sharing the fantasy. His eyes looked more than willing. Too willing. She'd only trap her heart. She'd end up wanting a ranchland future with a rancher who looked upon one little error in judgement, one little white lie, as the worse plague to ever strike his homestead, outside of the out-and-out thief who'd absconded with last year's annual profits. Not to mention that she'd never see more of the United States than the horizon from the backdoor of a farmhouse, er, ranch house. Reality helped blot out his hazel eyes. She elbowed herself up on the bunk. The windowless room was in a level of semidarkness. "Is it morning, noon, or night?" "Dinner time," he said proudly. "I prepared a tuna casserole." His delicious smile was good enough to eat and had her scrambling from the close, dim, bunkmate quarters. Krista tied her hair back and washed up before joining him at the trestle table. The chipped blue enamel cup and plate he'd set out for her across from his had a homey, rustic appeal. The handful of pink wildflowers that she'd picked on their march back to the cabin nodded to her from a glass Mason jar. With a smile, Krista nodded back. "Thank you for putting the flowers in water," she said. Dirk was so thoughtful and attentive and dangerous to her future plans. He spooned the casserole onto their plates and waited for her to taste it. "Hmm. It smells delicious." She forked up a mouthful. "It tastes delicious, too." He smiled, pleased.

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Dinner was a quiet affair. Mostly because the dream she'd had of them romping together, naked, played itself in her mind every time their eyes met. So Krista kept her eyes on her plate until nothing remained to be seen but speckles of blue and white enamel and rust. "Krista, we have to talk about Ellie." "Ellie's persistent. She'll talk the PI into meeting with her on a Sunday if she to, then she'll come back for us." Krista began clearing the table. "Suppose that doesn't happen tonight?" he replied, following her over to the dishpan. "Ellie's not irresponsible." Krista shook her head. "If she can't pick us up until tomorrow she'll call my employer and possibly your brother." "Chad? Oh, that'll be great." He scowled while he washed up the dishes and pans. Krista dried. Once they had finished, she took up her place at the table to play solitaire with the grease-stained deck of cards. Minutes later, Dirk peeked over her shoulder after he'd circled the room for the hundredth time. "Do you play poker?" His breath was warm and tickled the back of her neck. A delicious trickle ran down her spine. She flicked a red ten down onto her black jack. "I know how to, if that's what you're asking." "Want to play?" The way his voice said play made her want to play, but not cards. She wanted to play with his hair and his buttons and his zipper. He sat down across from her and looked into her eyes. The lantern glow lit up the hazel specks, and relit Krista's urge to play with his zipper. She busied her hands with the cards. "To make it interesting we should bet," he said. "But I didn't bring much cash with me." He pulled a few bills from his pocket. "I don't take credit cards," she teased, shaking her head and bouncing her ponytail. "We could play for IOUs though." "No fun." He leaned across the table and stared right into her eyes. "How about strip poker?" Krista snapped the red six of hearts on top of a red deuce, a very bad move. She'd heard of strip poker, even though she'd never played the card game. Anyway, she was sure that wasn't the same game Dirk was asking her to play.

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She squinted up at him, not from suspicion but to blur his dreamy hazel eyes. "Strip, as in strip away our restraints and answer personal questions?" she asked. "Well, now," he drawled, "there are restraints and there are restraints. I was thinking more along the lines of restraining pieces of clothing." "Oh." This was one adventure Krista had never considered taking. Her mouth went dry for a moment. She licked her lips. "But we could do both. A question for a shirt and so on." His eyes waited for her to answer. How was she going to resist those eyes? "The person who loses their shirt gets to ask the question? I'd have to think about that," she said. "That's a lose-win situation." He chuckled. "You'd like me to lose my shirt plus answer all your curious, nosey, female-type questions? Of course, that's supposing I lost my shirt," he said. "Okay, I'm game. Are you?" Krista laughed, but studied his denim shirt picturing what lay beneath: a muscled chest, curly chest hair, a downward plunge to paradise. She fought to regain her composure. Dirk at her mercy answering her questions had its possibilities. Granted, the possibilities were a lot less steamy. But far more practical, she supposed. "Your losing would be my best case scenario," she agreed. "You're on." He gathered up the cards from the rough wooden tabletop and began shuffling. "You're a very adept shuffler." A bit of worry set in. Krista hadn't considered ending up at Dirk's mercy. "You haven't done a stint in Vegas or Reno as a dealer have you?" "No." The ripple of the cards begged to differ with his reply. He grinned, showing white, even teeth that teased her to wipe the grin from his lips. "Have you?" he asked. "That answer would count toward one of your questions." She decided to play things a bit closer to the chest. He dealt the sticky cards. "I'll be sure to get it out of the way as soon as I win." After contemplating her hand, Krista tossed two discards. He dealt her two cards and himself one. With him needing only one card, her chances of winning seemed to slim.

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"I was going for a straight," he said. Krista's eyes widened when he tossed his cards onto the center of the table. "I didn't get it." With a rush of relief, she fanned her cards out. "A pair of eights. I win." She tapped her nails on the cards and considered questions. "Let me see..." While she pondered, Dirk unbuttoned his denim work shirt. Once he peeled it off, he reached over and turned up the lantern. "I might have misread my cards." But Krista couldn't misread his muscle tone. His arms were strong. She knew firsthand. His stomach was flat and hard. She knew that, too. He had another hard muscle, an extended size one, which she had no intention of getting within viewing distance of, unless he lost his jeans. Krista continued to tap her nails, only faster. She cleared her mind of muscles. She wanted to phrase this question right. If she asked him who the redheaded woman was, suppose he merely recited her full name? That wouldn't tell her what she wanted to know. She said at last, "What is your relationship with the redheaded woman in Reno?" "Loretta? She's my business partner with the rodeo bulls." He seemed to let out a sigh of relief at the question. "I see." Krista nodded. A business partner. That was an unexpected turn. Still, the redhead could be both a business partner and a bed partner. How was Krista going to phrase that question? She picked up the deck of cards, shuffled, and dealt. Dirk needed three cards this time. She bit back her pleasure when he folded his hand again. He'd lost. Krista tried hard not to grin. Instead, her bare foot waggled beneath the table. He peeled his sock off. "No question?" He waited. "Don't socks come in a pair?" "Not in the dryer at our house." He narrowed a suspicious eye. "If I ever win a hand, I'm not going to waste my question on your card-sharking expertise." She giggled at the accusation. "I'll give you a freebie." He eyed her yellow sweater.

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Not that kind of freebie. "I never dealt cards in Reno, Vegas, or any casino," she said. "You've got a knack for it if you ever want to give up on the library." He gathered the cards while she decided on her question. "What are your future business plans?" Bedding your partner, she wanted to add. "Getting the farm and ranch on its feet. Traveling the national circuit as soon as the bulls go pro." "I see." She nodded. Traveling had great prospects. Unless he was traveling with his redheaded, bedded business partner. She tried not to frown. He dealt the next round of cards and won. "Aha," he said, much too happy for Krista's liking. Slowly, she raised her arms and shimmied her hair out of its ponytail holder. "I don't think that's fair," he protested, pointing to the elastic hair band resting in the palm of her hand. She ignored him. "What's your question?" she asked. "What other lies have you told me?" "You go straight for the heart." That question hurt, but she stuck out her chin. "It's a fair question, under the circumstances." He shrugged. "I haven't told you any other lies. I don't lie under normal circumstances. Meeting you was an abnormal circumstance. Even you have to admit that." "Now you sound like Chad. There's nothing abnormal about computer dating." "Then why haven't you asked Ann out?" With a loud ruffle, she mixed the cards and wondered if he had asked Ann out. "Do you want that to count as your next question?" "No." He lost his other sock to a crop question and his jeans to a cattle question. Krista kept strictly to business file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (130 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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questions. She decided she didn't want to know him personally after all. It was a good thing, too, because Dirk without his jeans was a personal pleasure to be held. Then she lost a hand. No "aha" this time. He tossed a doubtful glance at her while he tamped down the deck. But when she reached her arms up this time, the hem of her yellow sweater was in her fingers. Krista stripped off the yellow fluff in one swift, hair-staticky movement and Dirk's jaw dropped open. She had no bra on. That should have him eating his words about fair play and the ponytail elastic. The lantern light flickered. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and leaned forward to rest her elbows on the table. She watched the glow from the lantern shadow and highlight Dirk's face and arms and chest. She swallowed hard and wondered if the lamp cast a glow on her skin as well, and if he was as tempted as she was at this moment. This card game had been a bad idea, although quite an adventure. She had a feeling the adventure wasn't over yet. "Question?" She dipped her head to force his eyes up to meet hers. He cleared his throat. "How do you manage to afford all that shopping and a house and a car?" Her voice sank low and intimate, like the flicking lantern light. "Mom and Dad gave me the house and the car when they retired." "Why don't you save your money for your future instead of shopping it away?" His voice sank lower and more intimate, rumbling through her, heating and melting her determination. "I have plans for the future." But at the moment she couldn't think of one. All she could think of was how the light did crazy things to his hazel eyes. And crazier things to her mind, her body, and her heart. "That's why I'm selling the house," she added, even though she didn't have the slightest idea why at that moment. "Krista..." He whispered her name in the dimness. His tempting lips formed her name as if in slow motion. "Dirk." Her reply sounded warm and welcoming. Briefly, she reminded herself why she was supposed to stay out of buildings with both him and beds in them. But there were no beds here, just bunks and sleeping bags. He stroked her hand from across the table. He kissed her fingertips. He ran his tongue along the cuticles

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of her glossy pink nails. She felt dizzy. But she didn't pull away. He swirled his tongue around her fingertips, one by one. She held her breath until she got dizzy again, then let out a long sigh. Still holding onto her hand, he stood and tugged her to him. He wrapped her in his arms and kissed the hollow of her neck. Another sigh. This time his. His bare chest pressed against her bare breasts. Her nipples peaked, demanding attention. She gave in to their demand. Restlessly, she pulled his head downward until his lips moistened her nipples, first one and then the other. Pleasure tugged at her core, melting and tickling. His tongue did that same swirl it had done on her fingertips. Only her nipples responded by swelling and flushing and aching for more. He squeezed her breast, gently. The ache of wanting him threatened to consume her. She slipped her hand down into his boxer shorts, where his extended size had extended nicely. She smiled. Judging by his hardness, he ached for her as well. He kissed his way up toward her mouth, leaving scorched flesh in his wake. Aroused nerve endings quivered along her throat, her chin, her lips. When he took her mouth, he thrust his tongue in and out in an erotic rhythm that quickly overtook her body. She wanted what he was offering. Thoughts of futures and adventures disappeared with the flicker of his tongue. Through it all, she stroked his rock-hard thickness. She manipulated her fingers beneath his manhood and pressed against his perineum. He groaned. "Belle, you've read about more than automotives," he mumbled against her lips. "You've sped right on by the a's to the g's would be my guess." She pressed the small strip of tissue again and he groaned longer. "Shall I stop?" she whispered. "No." His teeth nipped at her lip before devouring her mouth. Krista guessed she hadn't wasted her time reading about the male G-spot in that magazine down at the library. His gratitude was so lavish. He lavished her lips and her neck and her ear. Then in a husky voice he said, "Krista, I don't know whose turn it is to deal, but could I have the next question?" "Yes." Her word thrummed against his throat in a warm, wispy gush. She felt his pulse beat beneath his

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skin. His skin felt hot and moist with desire. He picked her up in his arms. Their eyes met in the lantern glow. "Will you make love with me?" he asked. Her eyes said yes. Her lips said "Yes." He carried her toward his sleeping bag on the other side of the room. He kissed her consenting eyes and lips. His kisses went from soft and quick to lingering. He parted from her mouth only long enough to lower them both onto the down sleeping bag. He unzipped her jeans. She'd dressed in a hurry down at the creek. Besides no bra, she had no panties either. All that stood between them were his cotton boxer shorts and her well washed, unsnapped, opened jeans. He stroked the downy hair at the wedge of her zipper. Her sharp intake of breath was no protest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and caressed his ear with her fingers. She recalled from the last time how much he'd liked that move. He moaned his appreciation. Things heated up quickly after that. She shimmied out of her jeans while he shed his boxers. With bodies entwined, they rolled around a bit, each seeking dominance. After grappling in the knapsack, he rolled onto his back and she won. With triumph, she smiled down into his eyes, and he handed her the foil packet. She slipped the latex onto him and then lowered herself atop. He arched up and filled her. Desire and excitement spurred her on. He encircled her hips with his firm, large hands to set the pace. A quicker pace than she wanted set. She wanted slow, and lasting. Their last time should last a long time, she reasoned. And this was the last time she was getting near the adventurous rancher and his sleeping bag. Or his bed. Or his bunk. Or any bed or any bunk. The list kept growing. That's not all that was growing. Her wantonness grew with each thrust of his hips and hers, but there was something more. His hazel eyes glassy with hunger connected with hers, suspending her in the moment, fusing her mind and heart with his. She didn't want fusing. She wanted lust and romance and adventure. To break free of the binding hold of his eyes, she gripped his shoulders and moved her hips faster.

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His breathing became erratic and hurried her on. Her nails dug into his shoulders. His muscles quivered beneath her hands and beneath her hips as he released. Her muscles replied with their own mind-blowing spasms. She rested her damp forehead against his damp forehead. He puckered panting little kisses onto her gasping open mouth. "I'd like another go round at this." He rolled them onto their sides. "Only I want the top next time. I like to lead every once in awhile." His skin was hot and sticky and manly. She wanted him again. "So practice is how you got that 4.O in dance," she teased. "And I did notice that you led the entire time we were out on the dance floor." She rubbed her hips into his. "I'm much more democratic when I'm lying down." He answered her mating call by grinding his hips into hers. So she let him lead. She wasn't sorry either. Her skin tingled beneath his moist mouth and his dexterous fingers. He plunged his fingers into her hair, pinning her head, and planting kisses onto her face and mouth. He trailed one hand down her body, over her stomach, and belly button, and wriggled his fingers into her moistness below. She trembled. Her body responded to him so easily. He crooked one of his fingers until he tickled a spot that had never been tickled before. A flood of heat shot through her at the sensation, followed by a restlessness that needed to be satisfied. She fluttered her hands up and down his spine. Scratched her nails gently at the sides of his waist, trying to get at the bone of her contention. Her restlessness heightened. She wiggled her chest against his and ground her hips into his, seeking, demanding. "Now?" Dirk whispered, as if he had to ask. "Yes," she hissed in a soft, eager whisper. He plunged into her, and her hiss evaporated. Soon her restlessness and her consuming desire evaporated, too. Later, the cool air in the cabin chilled her damp, heated skin. She shivered. "Let's get zipped up," he suggested. They both climbed into the downy warmth of his sleeping bag.

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She cuddled into his strong, warm body. Tonight she'd sleep a dreamless sleep. After all, Dirk had just fulfilled all her dreamy fantasies.

*** Dirk couldn't sleep. The floor seemed too hard, even padded by the down of the sleeping bag. Purring in her slumber, Krista snuggled close to him and added to his problem. She'd been rousing and delightful during their lovemaking. Her sexy smile and her exuberance had clouded his mission. He wasn't here to let his wimpy heart rule his head. Dirk was supposed to be watching out for a lying, lawless streak, not letting his fingers streak across her flawless anatomy. He wasn't here for great sex. But it had been great, he told himself for the hundredth time. Thoughts of her supple skin, her soft mouth, and her willingness made him moan. Maybe she'd been too willing. That bothered him. Other things bothered him, too. When he was buried deep inside of her, the tug to his heart had been strong and shattering and intimate, just as it had been that night in the Bronco. That profound intimacy got to him. But did it get to Krista? The great escape of Ellie bothered him, too. She'd skipped out so easily. He chewed that over and again. Had Krista assisted Ellie? The women slept in the same room. But he guessed it was possible she hadn't heard Ellie slip away. Had Krista volunteered to keep Dirk occupied? Nah, that occupation would make her more than a mere liar or a thief. Could she have been keeping him here to stop him from going to the police? She'd been worried about the police. Keeping him busy while her accomplice, Ellie, did what? The puzzle pounded at his head with no answers. There was only one way to find out. Ask Krista. He looked at her sleeping, angelic form, spooned against him warm and snuggly. He leaned over and traced a finger to her sweet lips. But would Krista tell the truth? With a grayish cast, daylight filtered in through the window. Dirk tossed and turned, then gave up. He file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (135 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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unzipped the sleeping bag and got up. He paced a few steps, then bent down next to Krista and nudged her awake. As soon as her eyes fluttered open, he said, "I have one last question." She sat up, tossed her hair off her face, and rubbed her sleepy eyes. "It's morning. Isn't the game over yet?" "My question exactly. Are you a party to Ellie and Percy's thieving? Are you keeping me out of the way while Ellie's off who-knows-where doing who-knows-what?" Krista answered him with a resounding smack across his cheek. As if on cue, the door banged open and in marched Ellie. And Chad.

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Chapter 12 "Chad? What are you doing here?" Dirk dove for the cover of the sleeping bag. Krista made sure he kept his naked body diving distance from her. She jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow while she huddled deeper into the down bag. "I could ask you that." Chad stood inside the cabin door, grinning. Dirk envied him his jeans, plaid shirt, and dusty roper boots. He yanked the edge of the sleeping bag up over his naked hips. "I couldn't call," Dirk explained. "The cell phone took a powder." Ellie had the good sense to keep her eyes downcast. "When you didn't phone, I got worried." Chad continued to grin at Dirk's barely covered butt. "I drove by Krista's house and saw your truck parked next door in Ellie's driveway." Ellie nodded but kept her eyes nailed to her black, high-top sneakers. "You don't look worried now, so turn around." Dirk threw a scowl at his brother. With a slam, Chad closed the open door then turned his back on them. "I'm sorry about the timing," Ellie muttered, then turned her freckled nose into the door, also. Bracing one hand on the frame of the door, which was the only escape route to the outside world, Chad draped his other hand on Ellie's much shorter shoulder. "Little girls should be seen and not heard." Not this girl, Krista wanted to say. She dragged the sleeping bag up around her, yanking Dirk out from behind it. His jeans tangled between her bare feet. She dropkicked the pants toward him. "Now look what you've done," she whispered harshly. "You not only insulted me, but you've embarrassed me in front of my best friend and a stranger." "He's not a stranger." Dirk shoved his legs into his jeans. "He's my brother. You've met Chad before." "Don't be obtuse," Krista grumbled under her breath. "Obtuse?" He rubbed his cheek where she'd slapped him.

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"Obtuse, it means slow to understand. I know it's not a computer term, but..." Her voice trailed. She couldn't believe she'd slapped him. She'd never struck anyone, ever. "I figured you'd read the dictionary," he said in a hushed, but sarcastic tone. "I was going to apologize for striking you, but after that feeble remark, I'm not feeling sorry." "You slapped him?" Chad laughed out loud. Krista glanced at Chad and Ellie. They were both admiring the gray, weathered slats on the wooden door but had obviously overheard every word. "Now you've really done it." Krista darted into the other, smaller, room. Hurriedly, she threw on the first thing she grabbed. The khaki deep-pocketed, adventurer shirt. "Ha." Some adventure Dirk had taken her on. "The big, doubting dork," she grumbled. There, that and slapping his doubting, dork face had made her feel better. She shimmied into her jeans and sank dow,n on the edge of the bunk to pull on her wool socks when Ellie tiptoed in. "Krista, are you all right?" she asked softly. "I didn't mean to catch you in such a compromising position." She picked at the chipped, white wall making a tiny, dark spot darker and bigger. "I'm not angry with you, El." Krista struggled with her sock. "I'm ticked off at him." She pointed her chin at the other room. "Why? Premature ejaculation?" Ellie nodded knowingly. "It's a man thing. It happens." "Oh, Ellie." Krista fumbled with her other sock. "All the while we were making love he thought I was duping him. He accused me of being a liar and a cheat so I slapped him." "Back up a little. I'm confused." From the open duffel bag on the floor, Ellie pulled out a comb, a hand mirror, and an elastic hair band. Krista raked her hair with the comb and tied it up without looking into the mirror. "He thinks I slept with him to keep him occupied while you snooped around the bank." "Where would he get such an idea?" Ellie nudged the duffel bag toward Krista with her toe, then sank down on the edge of the wooden bunk across from her. file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (138 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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"I may have fed his paranoia with a bit of my own. You had me worried the other day after our chat about the detective and the bank." "You worry too much. That's one of the reasons I left you behind. The other was how cute you two looked playing house together. A game which I see took off after I left." "Don't remind me." Krista laced up her hiking boots. "I hoped you would continue to play, but for my own selfish reasons. I didn't want to lose you, Krista. I figured after a day or so alone with him you'd realize how good you both were together." Ellie wriggled her freckled nose. "But my matchmaking plan backfired." "That little white lie I told him when we met seems to have spoiled any chance of his ever trusting me. He'll always question and doubt me." "When did ever and always enter the equation for you? He was the always man but you were the never woman." "Since we've met, I've been fighting this wild physical attraction, well, sometimes I've fought harder than others, I admit." "But always valiantly," Ellie interjected. Krista nodded. "Yes, when willpower hasn't been necessary at all. Our goals aren't that far apart. Can you imagine he wants to travel nationwide, too, when his rodeo bulls go pro? Only he'll be traveling with his redheaded business partner from Reno." "You were right all along. He has been talking futures with two women." Ellie tossed the comb and mirror into the green duffel bag and tugged on the zipper. "He has some nerve talking about honesty. No wonder you smacked him. He deserved it." "In all fairness, I kept avoiding serious discussions that included Dirk and me. So I'll never know what he would've asked me." "How do you know what he asked her?" "We, we played strip poker, question-and-answer strip poker. That's when I asked what his plans were for the future, but not in context to me or her, you see." "I see, strip poker with questions? How inventive. You'll have to explain the rules of that card game to

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me sometime." Ellie giggled. Krista smiled despite herself. "Sure. Just play more wisely than I did." "He didn't play fair if you bared it all and he still looked for ulterior motives." "That's the thing, El." Krista eyed her friend. "Despite his doubts, he still cared about me. He was worried about my safety in the woods, and he fretted about my falling under your and Percy's villainous, misplaced guidance." "Villains, huh?" With a giggle, Ellie yanked on Krista's ponytail. "Come on. Let's get out of here." "What's happening with you and the detective and the bank?" Krista asked in a hush while she rolled up her sleeping bag. "Long story. I'm afraid talking about it will jinx things." Ellie looked around, checking if they'd forgotten anything. "I suppose the drive down the mountain will be quiet." When they entered the other room of the cabin, everything was packed up and swept up. Chad was propping the broom against the wall near the door when they approached. "Dirk thought it was best if he waited outside in the vehicle." "That's one nice-driving sport utility vehicle he has," Ellie said. Those were the last words anyone spoke on the long, slow crawl down the mountain road. *** Two weeks after the camping fiasco, Krista bounded through Ellie's back door. "The house sold." She stooped to pet Kitty then screeched to a halt in the living room. Ellie sat cuddled on the royal-blue futon, wearing a knit shirt and pants the same shade as her flameorange hair. Percy was perched on the back of the sofa massaging Ellie's shoulders. "These shoulders have carried a heavy load during my absence." Krista blinked her unbelieving eyes. "Ellie, you're not wearing black. Percy, you're not in jail." "Free as a bird at last." Percy grinned a freckle-faced grin. His hair bristled atop his head like some redheaded porcupine. "How? When?" Krista stared at Ellie. file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (140 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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Ellie giggled. "Have a chair." Percy pointed to the yellow futon. "Ellie will tell you how she performed miracles while I take a walk in the fresh air and sunshine. I've missed fresh air and sunshine, but not as much as I've missed Ellie." Percy pecked Ellie on the cheek. Krista plopped down onto the bright yellow cushion of the chair. Percy strode toward the door. "Here, Kitty, Kitty," he called, holding open the front door for Kitty to accompany him on his walk. With a hiss and a wave they were gone. "Give," Krista said. "Remember me telling you about the weird guy who works with Percy at the accounting office." Ellie uncurled and sat forward on the edge of the sofa. "I asked my friend Ginger about him. You know Ginger, she's in the safety deposit department of the bank." "Yes, I know Ginger. Go on." Krista sat on the edge of her futon cushion now, too. "She checked their computer and, sure enough, the weirdo had a safety deposit box." "Can you imagine that? Computers do come in handy," Krista said. "You didn't crack the computer, like a safe, to find out what was in the deposit box, did you?" She held her breath hoping Ellie hadn't done anything foolish. "Not even the computer knows what's in a safety deposit box. Only the owner knows." "How did you find out what was in the box?" Krista bit her lip anxiously. "At first I tried to talk Ginger into letting me get a peek into the box. But she wouldn't budge and give me the key. Later, I was glad. If I'd have tampered with the evidence, who knows what kind of problems I might have caused for Percy." "How did you find out what was in the box?" Krista persisted. "My detective has some friends in local law enforcement. He convinced the authorities to check. Every embezzled dollar was inside the weirdo's deposit box." "Oh, Ellie." Krista clapped her hands together. "I'm so happy for you and Percy." Ellie hugged her. "Tell me about the house."

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"It sold. Just like that." Krista snapped her fingers. "Mrs. Barton is giving up her retirement condo in Florida to move back to town to be near her firstborn grandbaby. She bought the house lock, stock, and barrel. I have a few things to put into storage and then I'm on my way." Ellie narrowed her eyes. "Are you sure you want to do this?" "It's what I wished for on that star, El. That the house sold, quick, before anything got in my way." "From the look in your eyes quick wasn't soon enough." Ellie patted the sofa for Krista to sit next to her. Krista crumpled onto the bright blue cushion. "My heart got in the way." "The hottie." Ellie shook her head. "I was afraid of that. I mean, at first I hoped for it, but after he showed his doubting streak I hoped against it." "I'll never win his trust." Krista shook her head. "And what's worse is I know I shouldn't want to try." "That's his loss not yours." "Then why does it feel like I lost?" Krista sighed. "I think I lost my head over Dirk." "And your heart." Ellie nodded knowingly. "I can travel without my heart. But I need my head for lots of things, for starters reading maps and route signs." "I'm sure once you get on the road you'll find all kinds of distracting adventures." "What am I going to do in the meantime?" "You can move in here with me until the closing on your house. You can Kitty sit while I'm on my honeymoon." Krista smiled at her friend and tears welled in her eyes. "Let's talk about something happy. Let's make wedding plans." "I have brochures." Ellie trounced over to a black-lacquered desk and rifled through its red and white checkered drawers. She came back with a handful of pamphlets and fanned them out on the coffee table. "So you're looking at a Las Vegas chapel for your wedding?" Krista couldn't imagine why she was surprised. Knowing Ellie as she did, nothing about her marriage would be traditional. file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (142 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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"They have great package deals." Excitement twinkled in Ellie's eyes. "Look at some of these." "I am." Krista gulped. "You can have anybody from ET to a mummy officiate at your ceremony." "Those are the theme ceremonies. Any place in and out of this world, Egypt, Hawaii, Mars, the moon. Or any time period, medieval, the roaring twenties. Anything your heart desires. Wild, huh?" "Yes," Krista agreed. "Looks like an 800 call should just about cover making the wedding plans." "Just dial 1-800-WEDDING." Ellie laughed. Krista looked up from the pamphlets. "So what is your heart's desire, El?" "The Love Me Tenderly Chapel." "Is Elvis officiating?" Krista asked. With Ellie anything was possible. "Don't be silly. Nothing but an honest to goodness minister will do. Elvis is playing the wedding march on the organ. Elvis O'Reilly." "Oh, Ellie." *** "You haven't left the homestead in two weeks." Chad flipped a sizzling hamburger onto a brown stoneware plate and handed it to Dirk. "I've been busy." Dirk plopped the plate onto the table, then waged war on the catsup bottle. With a sharp clatter he won. The bottle cap skidded across the blue linoleum. While Dirk pounded on the bottom of the bottle, Chad straddled one of the vinyl chairs. "I'm busy, too, but I still manage a social life." "You manage enough for both of us." When Dirk finished beating up on the catsup bottle, Chad poured some onto his own burger. "So you're saying you'd be interested in my leftovers." "I'm saying to leave me alone." Dirk glared at his brother across the tabletop. The Krista-Ellie scam had hurt him enough without Chad scraping at the wounds. file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (143 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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Chad bit into his burger. "You're alone all right, big brother, and I can't figure out why. Sweet Ann, your computer chick, is online every night." Dirk looked up. Chad was full of surprises. "Then there's your librarian. You two looked right friendly until the ride home." "I thought you were anti computer dating?" Dirk pushed aside his burger and started in on the chocolate cake. "Looks more like you are, bro." Chad piled potato salad from a plastic carton onto his plate. "As I recall Ann was your date." "Ann and I are friends," Chad said, "since I explained the misunderstanding and my reasons to her." "You're friends with a woman. Now there's a new concept." Dirk would've laughed but he didn't have a funny bone left in his body. "How many women are you friends with?" Chad asked, scooping up a mouthful of potato salad. Dirk sprawled his legs out under the table. He sipped at his coffee and eyed Chad through the steam. "None. Not after you discovered Krista was a liar. There's not a friendly bone left in her body since I asked her how chronic her condition ran." "You did what?" Chad choked down a wad of potato. "You're a horse's rear." "Here, I thought I was merely a wimp." "I only wanted to prove that Krista wasn't your computer dream date," Chad said. "Computer being the operative word. She's still a dream date." "A lying dream date." Dirk was about done listening. He scraped back his chair. "There are lies and there are lies. She saved you from getting stood up. You know darned well you and Ann wouldn't have worked out. You're not in the least bit interested in her." "Okay, you win." Dirk tossed his plate into the sudsy dishwater in the sink. "I was wrong about finding the right woman on the Net or in the mall." "Why the mall?" Chad asked. "I think the librarian you met in the mall is perfect. She doesn't know the first thing about computers." He chuckled.

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"She's a liar, a cheat, and maybe even a thief." Chad choked on his coffee. "Whoa. What about your part in the misguided mountain mission?" he sputtered. "You told me you were out scouting a hot bull for the rodeo circuit when the whole time you were out spying. From what Ellie told me you used subterfuge and outright lies to dupe her into coming up onto that mountain." Chad clunked his coffee mug for emphasis. "Right." Dirk grabbed the cup and stuck it in the sudsy water. "All that corruption set in after a mere three weeks of dating Krista. If I'd have seen her any longer, I'd have ended up behind bars." "Dirk, I take it back, you're not a horse's rear. My horse's rear end is smarter. From what I hear the whole scheme was your idea." Dirk scrubbed at the plates in the sink. "It was. But things worked out so well for those two that I can't help but think I was setup." "You can always do what the detective did when he didn't believe the librarian. Check out her story and book her." Chad laughed and slapped at the table. "That's library humor in case you didn't get it." "I got it." Dirk tossed the kitchen towel to Chad. Chad caught the towel in midair. "Playing detective's a whole lot better than not playing at all." Dirk had his doubts about that. But maybe he'd drive over to Springville and check things out, maybe tomorrow, or the next day.

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Chapter 13 Looked like Dirk had waited too long. Krista's house appeared deserted when he drove up. The blinds hung at half-mast. The welcome mat was rolled up. A red SOLD sticker slashed the realtor's sign on the front lawn. He checked around. He noticed Ellie's house was locked up, too, tighter and quieter than a tomb. Dirk went downtown to make a few friendly inquiries. He dropped by both banks. By the simple process of elimination, he found the one where Ellie worked. When he asked for change for a fifty, he mentioned Ellie's name. "Ellie took off for Vegas on short notice. Something about a wedding." The teller had long blue and silver fingernails that depicted the sky and clouds. While she counted out bills with pointed-nail precision, she griped. "Because of the short-notice wedding, my part-time schedule was bumped up to full-time. I had to cancel my craft class. Now my ceramic pixie won't be fired in time for the upcoming bazaar. Ellie's expected back next week, but that will be too late for my pixie." Dirk gave the teller a sympathetic nod, pocketed his change, and made his getaway for the door. He walked the three blocks to the library. Krista's newly hired replacement, a flustered woman with really short blonde hair and enough gold in her ears to support a small family for a month, told Dirk a similar story about Vegas and a wedding. He lost track of her rambling story and had counted up to six earrings in her right ear, when she said something important enough for him to lose count. "She gave me a phone number where I could reach her at the hotel in Vegas if I had any problems. Krista didn't have time to finish my two-week training period. Only thing is I can't find the number. I know it was one of those hotels with a theme, like a pyramid or a castle. But that's not important because I haven't had much trouble." The Luxor was a pyramid and the Excalibur was a castle. He hoped she was at one of those. They were side by side. But when it came to themes the city was loaded with them--Paris, Rome, Venice, New York, the South Seas, lagoons, pirates, volcanoes, roller coasters. It went on and on. Dirk hadn't lived in Nevada his whole life and known nothing about Las Vegas. Thanks to Chad, and a few computer searches he kept up on things. The newly hired assistant librarian smiled up at Dirk and the fluorescent lighting glinted off her ears. file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (146 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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"Did you say you were Krista's brother? I didn't realize she had a brother." "No, I'm a friend of hers." And about to get a lot friendlier with her once he found her. Dirk thanked the librarian and hit the pavement. On his drive out of town, a whole bunch of W's swam through his head. Who was getting married, if anyone? The wedding could have been an excuse for Ellie and Krista to get away, although just about all of the hotels had wedding chapels. What were they doing running around Vegas? He cringed at the idea of those two in the city of glitz, glamour, and gaming tables with a bundle of money in their tight little fists that in all probability came from the sale of Krista's house. Where was Krista planning on working and living once her money ran out? He recalled her saying she had plans. He hoped they weren't wedding plans. He could kick himself right about now. When he'd had the chance, why hadn't he asked her what those plans were? But he knew why he hadn't. Mostly because he'd been distracted by the glow of her skin in the lantern light. Then there was the biggest W of all. The wimp factor. Why had it taken until now for him to figure out that unconditional love was not wimpy? In fact, it was darn right difficult. Dirk stepped on the gas. He needed answers. He headed for Las Vegas, and the unpleasant task of phoning every hotel in the city with a theme. Hours later when Dirk hit the Vegas strip, he pulled up to the first phone booth he spied. He called the Luxor Casino & Hotel and asked for Ellie Parker or Kristabel Lewis. After about a dozen disappointing inquiries, success. "Hello." A familiar female voice answered on the second ring. "Ellie? This is Dirk. I'm trying to track down Krista. Is she with you?" He rushed it all out before she could hang up on him. "One question at a time," she said cheerfully. She was in a good mood. That was a break. "Yes, this is Ellie. Yes, Krista is in town. And if I can be so bold, what's it to you?" So much for good cheer. "I have something important to tell her."

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"I can relay it, unless it's personal?" Ellie was fishing, but he didn't care. He chummed her the bait. "It's very personal." He sighed. "It's about as personal as a man and a woman can get." "Oh." Ellie paused. "Then I guess you'd better come to the Love Me Tenderly Chapel in about twenty minutes. It's about a half mile off the strip." She clicked off. "Thanks. I'll find it," he said into the dead phone, glad for the small favor she'd given him. He slammed down the receiver, paged through the phone book until he found the address of the chapel, and then sped off in his truck. Geez Loueez, was Krista getting married? If she was, it had to be on the rebound. Or so he wanted to believe. Well, he'd put a stop to that. He loved her. And she loved him, even if she didn't believe it yet. Once he found the right street, the chapel wasn't hard to spy. Ellie's yellow Volkswagen was parked in front of a church-shaped building that had neon blinking lights and chapel bells chiming "Love Me Tender". Not to waste his precious time, Dirk stamped on the brakes and double- parked in the street. He bolted for the arched doors of the building. He glanced at the three doors inside the entrance. They were labeled, No Frills, Frills, and Deluxe Frills. He swung open Deluxe, figuring a woman only married once in her life. Well, some did anyway. At the end of a long white carpeted aisle, a man and a woman stood. Not just any woman. His woman. And she had on the brightest pink dress Dirk ever saw. An odd choice for a bride. "Don't," Dirk shouted to her. Krista turned. The groom turned. The minister and his oversized, white handlebar mustache turned. They stared at Dirk with their jaws hanging open. Krista's pretty mouth formed a perfect little O. It made Dirk's heart pound. "Don't marry him. Marry me." Good. That staggered the groom back a full yard, knocking him into a footed, brass vase filled with white roses. Dirk started down the flower-draped aisle. The whole room smelled like a spring meadow in bloom. Before he reached Krista, an Elvis impersonator in a black leather suit started hammering on the organ. Just as the strains of "Here Comes the Bride" hit the air, Dirk caught a blur of neon green out of the corner of his eye.

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He turned, then stepped aside to let the bright green, gauzy apparition float on down the aisle ahead of him. When it glided by, he recognized the orange hair beneath the filmy, green veil. Ellie. So Ellie was the one getting married. What a relief. Dirk smiled throughout the entire service. He kissed the bride and wished the groom luck. As he shook the man's hand, he figured the groom for the notorious Percy. Fleetingly, he wondered how the women had broken him out of jail. Then he linked arms with the sobbing, pink bridesmaid. "You look pretty in pink," he said. Now that he had found Krista, he didn't know what to say. He opted to stick with small talk, for now, if she'd talk to him at all. "I'm sort of a combination best man and maid of honor," Krista explained to Dirk, dabbing at her eyes with a pink lace hankie. "I'm a poor choice. I always cry at weddings." "I noticed you juggling both the ring and the bridal bouquet and your hankie. You did well." "Thank you." He rolled and unrolled the pamphlet he'd found in the padded pew. "Nice flowers." She sniffed at her bouquet of bright pink carnations. "I was reading," he tapped the colorful pamphlet, "about live internet weddings. Chatpals can view the wedding online." "Providing your pal has a computer," she said, obviously referring to herself. "We have to talk about that." Just then the minister piped up. "Time to toast the happy couple." He poured champagne into fluted glasses and handed the first flute to the bride. "This is your souvenir, memento wine glass. One for you and one for the groom. We hope you use them for many future toasts." "Here, here," Elvis said right on cue. "Percy." The minister handed the next glass to the groom and then one to everyone else in their small circle. So the groom was Percy. Dirk wondered if he was on the lam. That thought almost made him slam back his drink without waiting for the toast. A pair of white doves cooed from a gilded cage hanging in the nearby corner. Nice touch, Dirk thought. file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (149 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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Lovebirds for the jailbirds. Krista held up her glass. In a shaky, teary voice she said, "To my best friend and to her best friend, lover, and now husband. A long, happy road." A road that led out of the country would be Dirk's bet. He slugged down his wine as if it were a shot of Jim Beam bourbon. If only he could get Krista alone, out of hearing range of the others. He had some heartfelt words of his own that needed saying before she went on the lam with the happy couple. The newlyweds sliced the most hideous wedding cake Dirk had ever laid eyes on. Big bright pink flowers dotted a neon-green iced cake. "Cake," Krista said as if to identify it when she handed him a slice and a fork. At least under all the icing it was chocolate. He managed a polite smile and ate around the icing. Soon, the preacher and the happy duo were engrossed with signing papers and a marriage certificate. Dirk took advantage of the break to lure Krista over to a faux marble pillar. He leaned his shoulder against the column and almost toppled it. Krista giggled. When that first dimpling of a smile touched her cheeks he felt as if the sun had come out. It warmed him all over. This is the happiest he'd felt in weeks, since he was stupid enough to ask that fatal question up at the cabin and get smacked in the chops. As if she'd read his mind, she said, "I'm sorry I slapped you." "Nah, all you did was swat at a horse's rear to hear Chad tell it." "Chad said that?" Krista was surprised. Surprised at herself, too. Despite Dirk's accusations at the cabin and his grand entrance and nonsensical proposal in the chapel, she was pleased to see him. He was standing close. Her dyed-to-match pink shoes touched toe-to-toe with his scuffed boots. She could feel his breath upon her face when he said, "Yes, Chad said that and more. He pointed out that I've dished up more white lies than I've suspected you of telling." Dirk caressed her shoulders through her off-the-shoulder pink draped dress. His touch felt warm and comforting and familiar to her. His hazel eyes were a lazy shade of green. "I want to marry you, Krista, even if your friends should happen to be criminals. Even if you were a criminal. Even if you helped Ellie break Percy out of prison." There was that proposal again. His words chilled all the warm fuzzy feelings she'd been basking in. The man was determined to wreck her future. Krista ducked the marriage issue and pounced on the criminal issue instead. file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (150 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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"We didn't break Percy out of jail." Dirk ruffled his fingers through his hair. "Did he escape then?" "I told you all along that Percy was innocent. But of course you thought I was lying. Percy's been exonerated." "I'm sorry. I'd like to be exonerated, too." Dirk's voice became low and smooth and rumbled through her. "I was so hung up on trust after Chad and I were swindled that I looked for flaws in everyone. You, Ellie, Percy, even Chad. Caution made me overly suspicious." She studied his hazel eyes. They weren't clouded with suspicion now. Guilt saddened them. "I can forgive you, if you can forgive me. I'm sorry for misleading you as to who I was." "I love who you are." He bent his head and touched his lips to hers. Her heart soared. His kiss was like a homecoming, tender, inviting, heart melting. Make that a very private homecoming. His hand massaged her naked shoulder, sending jolts of heat to more places than her heart. His other hand cradled her throat, lifting her chin to receive his mouth. Their tongues touched with an electric charge. His tasted of love and lust. She wished she could choose just one, but his mouth demanded she accept both. Her soaring heart did a tailspin. She pulled away. "I guess that means I'm forgiven." She touched her fingertips to his lips. "You never said what your plans were, but marry me?" His breath brushed the words against her fingers. "Marry me at the mall or in a church. Anywhere, any time, any place, even here." He wobbled the faux marble column again. Her hand dropped away from his mouth. "My plan is to travel the states, all fifty of them." "That works for me. We can travel the national circuit with the bulls." "I thought you planned to travel the circuit with Loretta?" He crinkled his brows. "Loretta is not a traveling business partner. She owns a bull breeding ranch in California."

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"You both traveled to Reno," Krista persisted. "I went to pick up Log On, the bull I told you about. Loretta's truck broke down and I had to meet her." "Oh, I thought you two dated?" "No," he said emphatically. "I haven't dated anyone since I met you." He looked into her eyes. "Say you'll marry me, Krista?" "Travel companions don't necessarily make good marriage partners." Her voice weakened. "I can't marry you. Trust is important to a relationship." "I trust you, Krista, my belle. I always have, even when my stubborn mind didn't want me to. My heart's been battling my head." He reached for her hand and placed it over his heart. It beat strong and steady. "And my heart's in love, in love with you." And her heart was in love with him, along with every other organ in her body. "I don't know that I'm up for a lifelong battle." Having to admit that just about stopped her heart. It beat, but slow and sluggish. Hot tears threatened to rim her eyes. "We're leaving," Ellie called as the small wedding party approached her and Dirk. Krista dabbed her eyes and reached for the confetti that Elvis passed around. Ellie and Percy ran for the door under a hail of green and pink flecks. As soon as the last piece landed, Elvis announced, "The bride and groom have left the building." Then Reverend Tucker and the Elvis organist excused themselves to move on to the next chapel room and the next wedding. The chimes began playing a rendition of an Elvis song. An attendant in a tuxedo appeared and began vacuuming up the confetti. "What do you say we get out of here," Dirk shouted above the chiming and the sweeping. "I have my trusty steed parked outside." "That would be your Bronco?" She smiled up at him. Just then a horn honked from out on the street, loud and persistent, drowning out the music and the sweeper. "That's Ellie," Krista said. "They're waiting to give me a ride back to the hotel." file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (152 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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"I'll take you back," he said. She tugged her hand free and fled out the front entrance. A sliver of daylight flashed and then was gone. Dirk sighed and pushed open the door. He stepped out onto the empty sidewalk in time to see Ellie's car pull out and fade into traffic, as much as the bright yellow vehicle could fade. Dirk strode toward the street and his trusty steed. He stopped dead in his boot tracks. Way to go Prince Charming. His Bronco was being towed away.

*** Some time later, after he bailed out the Bronco by paying a parking fine and towing fees, Dirk arrived at the hotel where Ellie and Krista were staying. He wasted no time ringing up Ellie again. "I'm on my honeymoon," Ellie said indignantly when she answered the phone. "Which is where I want to be...on my honeymoon." He was losing patience, but he squeezed his grip on the receiver refusing to hang up or give up. "Please, give me Krista's room number." Ellie debated for all of a second. "Room 4312. Good-bye." Dirk stared at the dead phone. Ellie was either one horny bride or something was up with Krista. Maybe she'd left town already. He'd hoped he could catch her before she packed up and checked out. Checked out for where? She no longer had a home or a job. If he'd had paid more attention to Krista instead of watching for nonexistent criminal tendencies up at the cabin, he'd have known where she was heading. The nearby elevator dinged and he jumped aboard, deciding to knock instead of call. The elevator car stopped at every floor, taking on and dropping off passengers. Repeatedly, Dirk tapped his finger on the lighted number 4. Finally, the fourth floor. He elbowed his way out of the elevator, nodding apologetically to a man in flowered shorts and sandals whose foot he'd trampled on. Certain that he was too late, Dirk rapped on a galaxy-themed door, grazing his knuckles on a satellite orbiting the 4312 starburst. He'd bet his computer chips that Krista was long gone.

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But she wasn't. He was relieved to see her when she swung open the door. His heart thudded. Krista had on a short, wraparound, robe with purple people-eaters or some sort of outer spacemen scattered over the terry. Definitely hotel issue. But she did it justice. Her skin looked dewy from her recent shower. Damp ringlets of towel-dried hair framed her face. Her cheeks were rosy pink. Her lips were naked of lipstick and kissable. The robe barely covered her long, shapely legs that glistened with a sheen of oil. She still held the bottle in her hands. A pair of Martian eyes stared at him from the terrycloth hemline, daring him to go where no man in his right mind would dare to go under the current strain in their relationship. Dirk chickened out, for now. "Nice room," he said, poking his head through the doorway. "I don't have one." "You can't stay here." She tugged the robe tighter and the Martian's eyeballs tickled her oiled, shiny, inner thighs. He glanced around the room. Aside from the moon and stars on the bedspread and valance, the décor wasn't too otherworldly. A few takeoffs and landings on the bed might bring Krista around to his marriage-minded way of thinking. She might listen more and argue less if she were naked and panting and sated. "It wouldn't be the first time we shared a room." He edged forward a step. He'd have to get his boot in the door before any seducing or proposing could take place. "If you're stranded, all right. But this is definitely the last time," she huffed, but opened the door wider to let him in. Dirk swept her into his arms and smothered her huffy mouth with kisses. With a quick kick of his heel, he booted the door shut. He wasn't giving her a second to resist him. He was keeping the pressure on until he got what he came after. While he had momentum going, he backed her across the room until her bottom rested on the edge of the table by the window. In his flurry, he knocked over a molded chair that surely belonged to Capt. Kirk from the Starship Enterprise in some lifetime. "You smell good," he mumbled. She smelled of soap and shampoo and just plain sexy woman. "Johnson's baby oil," she murmured.

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Heat quickly built between them. He tugged at the collar of her terry robe and dragged it down over her shoulders, exposing her warm, soft, supple skin. He kissed her delicate neck and felt the soft moan in her throat before he heard it. Her fingers tangled in his hair and urged him lower. He lowered his head and licked at her nipples. They peaked and swelled, responding boldly to his hot kisses. Next, her thighs parted and urged him closer. He obeyed, tucking his groin tightly into her snug, slender body. She felt so hot and right, and his. He fumbled with the belt to her robe. How could such a delicate woman tie such a tight knot? "Touch me," she whispered, huskily, against his ear. He gave up on the knotted belt and touched her. He slipped his hand between her thighs. She was warm and wet and welcoming. His fingers slid easily, in and out, and then over her peaked bud. She moved her hips slowly and moaned the slightest whimper. He swelled and ached. Thoughts of her splayed out beneath him on the tiny table made him hard. His jeans restrained him from acting on it immediately. Good thing, too. He was here to persuade her into wedded bliss. His plan was to seduce her senseless and propose. He wanted to heat a fire in her that would melt her resistance to his marriage proposal. At the moment the flames were licking at his boot heels, urging him to take what she was offering. Lust told him to forget about long term proposals. The blaze soared and the metal zipper on his jeans nearly branded him. Dirk heeled off his boots. He didn't know how much longer the heavy denim of his jeans would hold out. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice warned him that doing her here on the table wouldn't convince her to marry him. Her tongue felt like velvet in his ear and drowned out any further voices. Her breath against his eardrum drummed home a solitary goal, and it didn't end at any altar. The driving force ended between her legs. "Now?" she asked so prettily, that no never reared its ugly head. Only his arousal reared its head, its nonmarriage-minded head. When her fingers fumbled between their bodies, searching out the hot metal zipper of his fly, he went still. He should swat her hand away and demand they talk, first. Swat her hand away? He'd laugh if he could. As it were, he could barely swallow, so talk was out of the question anyway. He wasn't about to swat any angel's hand from taking anything she wanted that was in file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (155 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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his power to give. Right now his angel wanted his zipper down and it surely was in his power to oblige her. He helped her delicate fingers nudge the zipper downward. But that wasn't enough to satisfy her. "More," she demanded. She tugged at the waist of his jeans. Once more he obliged her and shimmied out of his jeans and boxers. She smiled, then sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and eyed him coyly. "Would you like the shirt off my back?" he teased. She nodded and her dark hair spilled around her face. He touched her hair and brought a few strands to his face. Even damp it felt silky and smelled flowery. Everything about her was silky and flowery. His tender moment was lost to the ripping sound of snaps tearing open his western shirt. The woman was in a fever to have him naked and he didn't plan on denying her. Once his shirt tangled with his jeans on a pile on the floor, he gave the knot in her belted robe another try. This time persistence paid off. Soon the purple, Martian-covered robe joined his clothes on the planet-studded carpet near their feet. He took her naked body in his arms. She felt lithe and slender and soft and available against his hard body and harder manhood. She parted her thighs and wrapped her legs around his waist. Her heels rested on his butt and urged him closer. Her warmth and wetness nestled itself around his hardness. He moaned his misery. He fought back, trying to reword his reason for being in her room. He'd let things go too far. She wasn't in any talking mood. She was in a kissing mood. She ran her tongue over his lips and coaxed his mouth to respond. She kissed his jaw and neck. Long term goals, he tried to keep the words thrumming through his head. Instead, her mouth worked its way up to his ear. Her whisper tickled his earlobe and sent chills down his spine. Other words strummed though his head, her words. "Baby oil," she said, holding up the bottle she still held in her hand.

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Chapter 14 Baby oil. Dirk's heart all but stopped. He'd almost been able to shut out the pull of her brown eyes as they darkened and glazed with desire. He'd almost been able to deny her velvety voice whispering and murmuring. He'd tried to pass up the touch of her skin, so soft beneath his callused fingertips. He'd even tried to resist the lure of her musky womanhood. But baby oil, now that he couldn't resist. The bottle dangled from her fingers like a chocolate bar in front of a chocoholic. He wrapped his large hand over hers and turned the bottle upside down. He squeezed gently, but firmly, and the oil dripped down between their bodies. Cold at first contact, the oil warmed quickly from the heat of his body, her body, their body heat combined. He watched the slick droplets roll down her neck and drip between her breasts. Next he felt them trickle down his own neck and chest. The sensation of both watching and feeling the oil ooze at the same time over their naked flesh excited him. Krista excited him. Her eyes were dark and dreamy and daring, ready for adventure. He squeezed her hand again and a steady stream flowed from the bottle. Krista felt the oil slither down her body like a snake. Her eyes were locked with Dirk's and like a snake's they didn't blink. The hazel in his eyes glowed dark. Amber-gold specks promised her a sensual journey she knew she couldn't pass up. Every date with Dirk had been an adventure. Whatever time they'd spent together had turned into an adventure. She'd gladly take the adventure of a lifetime with him. Marriage. Yes, she'd marry him if only...if only she could be sure he trusted her. But she couldn't think about anything further than this moment and this adventure, right now. "I think you may need a little more skin softener," she teased, wrapping her arms around his neck and allowing him to drip oil down her spine, while she slid her hips into a very hard area of his body. He wriggled against her. The feel of his slick, muscled chest as it skimmed over the softness of her file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (157 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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breasts made her nipples hard and her knees weak. He massaged the oil over her breasts and stomach and between her legs. The gliding motion teased every inch of flesh he touched, while anticipation teased the areas he hadn't touched yet. She slid her hands over his back and sleek shoulders, down through his chest hair and over his ribs. Anywhere she could touch him, she smoothed her slippery hands. Sheer pleasure overtook them both with a frenzy of silky, shimmering strokes. Slippery as an eel came to mind when she grasped him in her fist. Once he was protected, he ran his large hands over her round bottom and taking a cheek in each hand hiked her up onto the table. She braced her arms behind her and wrapped her legs around his waist. Her breath came in a gasp when his sleek arousal touched the soft, moist cleft between her legs. He skimmed over the silky flesh, back and forth, teasing her. Then with a slow, rhythmic pressure he penetrated her. With long, steady strokes he coaxed her over the top. Her climax washed over her in a wave of sensual satisfaction. Almost immediately, a slick, sticky reality overtook them. "We need hot water and plenty of it," she said. Before they trudged off to the shower, he twined his fingers into her hair, which was about the only part of her he could hold onto without adding to the greasy buildup. He smacked a sleek kiss to her lips. Lots of soap and hot water later they lay in bed, side by side, pillow to pillow. "Krista," he said. "We have to talk." "Not now." She yawned drowsily. "First thing in the morning," he said, leaning over her and kissing her good night. "Good night," she whispered. Good-bye, she thought. She didn't want to reject his marriage offer yet again. She didn't know if she had the willpower. She did know she couldn't marry a man who she wasn't sure trusted her. Being around him melted her to the core. Krista had no choice but to stay away from him, and the sooner the better, the farther the better. Some time later as Dirk snored a steady slumber she stuffed her things into her suitcase and slipped out of the room and the hotel.

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***

Krista sat on a bench in the Kramesward Mall, packageless. It was the Saturday after her trip to Vegas, the last time she'd seen Dirk. The last time she would ever see Dirk. Her heart felt heavy in her chest, like lead. No amount of shopping, no amount of bustle from the crowded shoppers in the mall, no bargain had been able to tease her spirits into lightening up. Krista played with the button on the hem of her drab, gray, sweater set. It suited her. She felt drab gray. A smiling shopper, wearing a pantsuit that Krista would've died for before today, scooted by juggling an armful of packages and her handbag. She envied the woman's shop-till-you-drop smile. Krista was ready to venture out on her grand journey around the country, and she hadn't bought one, single, solitary item, not even a new toothbrush. Ellie and Percy would be home from their honeymoon in a few days, bringing her house sitting, Kitty sitting duties to an end. Krista would truly be homeless then. Bored and lonely, she clenched her knees together and clicked the heels of her black loafers. She almost felt like Dorothy in Oz, clicking her heels and wishing. Only Krista wasn't sure what to wish for. She'd thought she'd known exactly what she wanted and where she was headed. But Dirk complicated all that. Ranch roots were looking desirable and homey and not the least bit restraining. Ranch roots with Dirk, anyway. He put adventure into everything they did. He was an exciting man, an exciting lover. But what would she do on a ranch all day between rodeo trips and making love? She could write a book, a diary-travelogue of sorts about their rodeo adventures. She could cook. Krista loved to cook and bake. She could perfect the chocoholics' chocochip-cookie or cake and start a home-based business. She clicked her heels. If only she could believe he trusted her as well as loved her, she'd have snapped up his marriage proposal in a blink of her lashes. Krista blinked as the bench shook with a jolt. A long, sneaker clad, sockless foot, followed by a long lean leg, swung over the back of the bright blue, enameled bench. Krista flinched, ready to dart toward the nearest kiosk and sound the alarm for security when Dirk's body flopped down next to her. He smiled that lopsided grin of his.

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"I've been scouring the benches in the mall for an hour looking for you." His rum-tumble voice rippled through her like circles of water, swelling her heart with each syllable he spoke. "You didn't know I'd be here," she teased, sure that his being in the mall was merely coincidence. All the same, with a wild flutter her spirits lifted. She smiled, glad to see him. "Where else would you be on a Saturday?" He plucked at the sleeve of her sweater, as if he needed to get her attention. He had her undivided attention. His hazel eyes were hypnotic. He could be naked for all she'd noticed. She peeked at his jeans and T-shirt anyway. He had on black jeans and a dark T-shirt with no logo. He looked hot. He smelled delicious. His aftershave wafted toward her, musky and manly. He scrunched a white bag in his hand. "What did you buy?" she asked for lack of what to say. "Chocolates." He rattled the bag. "They're good for whatever ails you." He shrugged his rugged shoulders. "Almost." Oh, no. Krista had hoped to avoid this talk. That's why she'd skipped out on him in Vegas. She knew it would go round and round and end nowhere. There was no hope for love without trust. "This will be my last Saturday at the mall for awhile. This mall anway. I'm hitting the road as soon as Ellie and Percy return from their Vive Las Vegas Honeymoon." "Why did you leave Vegas without talking to me first, Krista?" His voice sounded low and serious and thrummed through her. She studied the granite, tiled floor and her loafers. She wished she knew how to start. Honesty. Yes, that's what he demanded and that's what he'd get. "I was afraid you were going to ask me to marry you again." A muscle in his jaw twitched. He looked away, but she'd seen the hurt cloud his warm, bright eyes. She didn't want to hurt him. She loved him, even if he didn't trust her any more than he would a bucking bull. "I love you, Krista. I want to spend my life with you. Why is marrying me so awful?" He furrowed his brow. She wanted to reach out and stroke the wrinkles away. But then she'd be tempted to kiss the wrinkles away. She knew she wouldn't stop there, even in the busy mall, even in front of the balding, gray-haired

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man who ran the pretzel kiosk and had frowned at Dirk when he'd vaulted the bench. "You're the most exciting, loving, caring man I have ever known," she said openly. "Giving my heart to you is something I'd never regret." "Then marry me." He took her hand in both of his. His hands felt rough and strong and warm. "Marriage takes more than love. It takes trust." She tried to tug her hand free and flee. "Stay. Please hear me out." She let her hand go limp in his. "I trust you with my heart," he said in a husky tone. "I trust you with the rest of my life." Why was he making this so difficult? "You said yourself that you had to struggle to trust me," she said. "I don't want that kind of a marriage. I'm sorry." He held her hand tighter. She looked up into his eyes. She saw love there. Her heart pounded. Her pulse quickened. It would be so easy to melt into his arms. Loving him made sticking to her resolve difficult. But from somewhere in the back of her mind a message flashed, loud and clear. A marriage without trust won't survive. "Don't you love me, Krista?" He touched a finger to her cheek. Her mind went blank and her heart took over. "I love you," she said. "Do you believe in the power of love?" "My heart does." A smile lit up his face. "My heart does, too. My heart trusted you even when my mind was giving me trouble." He brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed each fingertip, right there, right in the middle of the Kramesward Mall on a crowded Saturday afternoon. "So angel," he said, standing and bringing her to her feet along with him. "Shouldn't we listen to our hearts for a change?" file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (161 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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Both her heart and her head told her to listen up. And evaluate. Logic said that Dirk wasn't her father. That was for sure. No gray hair, no paunch, no golf. He wasn't the dentist either. Dirk was Dirk, and trustworthy. If he said he trusted her, she could take him at his word. "Yes." She nodded. Her heart fluttered at the idea of yet another adventure with Dirk, an adventure of the heart. He breathed a deep breath and stood stark still for a moment, as if to absorb the yes. Then he grinned. "Let's celebrate." He smacked a quick kiss to her lips. "What do you say I trust you with my charge card and escort you to the Wonderful World of Computers around the corner?" "Oh, Dirk." Krista laughed. "I don't need a computer. I can tinker around with yours." "That's exactly why you need your own." He tugged her into his arms and kissed her on the mouth, a long, lingering kiss that made her head spin. When the spinning finally stopped and she could focus, she noticed the balding, gray-haired man reaching for his phone. "I think the man in the pretzel kiosk is calling security," she warned Dirk. "Then we'd better shop." He held her away from him and eyed her. "You look like the computer laptop type to me." "No," she protested. "I don't need a computer." "The pink laptop type." He nodded, pleased with himself. "They come in colors?" She took his hand and let him lead her through the crowded mall.

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Excerpt from Intimate Investor

by

Terry Campbell

Copyright © 2001 by Terry Campbell Published in conjunction with Linda D. Campbell & Bobbye R. Terry. Previously published by Dreams Unlimited.

Cover Art by Patricia Storms

Chapter One Ah, perfect jeans. Raye Franklin licked her lips. Perfect jeans were hard to wear out no matter how long the ride, promised to fit better over time and hugged in all the right places. And a perfect pair of 505s was walking toward her this minute. Raye dragged her gaze from the denim-encased slim hips to a pale green cotton shirt that fit tightly over a broad chest and exposed a tuft of blond hair at its open neck. She swallowed hard. A man like this would be her downfall, turn all her thoughts to pleasure and not the fulfillment of her long-sought dream. Thank goodness she'd never meet him. Raye glanced at her watch. She didn't have time to drool. The most important business meeting of her life was about to take place. Gritting her teeth, she forced all thoughts from her mind of spending hot, sultry nights on rumpled sheets file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (163 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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and canvassed the parking lot for signs of Macon Winston, the man who promised to be her savior. She glanced again at her watch. Five minutes late, not a good sign. Nor was the fact she didn't know what he looked like. Hindsight said she'd been stupid not to ask, but it hadn't seemed necessary. It wasn't as if the Flat Rock Shopping Center were in the hub of action. Heavens, it was too far out of Richmond to even be considered faintly urban. Besides, Mr. Winston had assured her he'd find her. In any case, he couldn't be that hard to spot. Anyone who wanted to invest $150,000 in a home health care agency had not only money but some years on him, too. All she needed was to spot an old, wrinkled man who wore high waters and a bolo tie. Still, she wished he'd agreed to meet at Crab Louie's. It wasn't only an upscale restaurant housed in a historic tavern, its atmosphere was more conducive to business meetings. But Mr. Winston had said no, it was the Flat Rock Shopping Center or nowhere. With her free hand, Raye smoothed the jacket of her power suit over its short, pencil-thin straight skirt. Lordy, she hoped her sister Carol and the saleswoman at Dillard's were right, and the micro-fiber suit really did declare, "Don't underestimate the wearer. She's a savvy businesswoman." With a sigh, Raye re-scanned the lot for her investor only to discover "Perfect Jeans" blocking her view. Slowly, she raised her head. Her gaze locked with twinkling green eyes. Glancing down, she inhaled sharply as she sent a silent prayer heavenward, "Please, Lord, don't let this stud muffin be Mr. Winston." "Ms. Franklin?" So much for prayers. Raye lifted her gaze once again to his lower lip which, slightly fuller than his upper, invited a caress. Desperate, she clutched her briefcase tight against her chest. Then his mouth curved into a lopsided grin. Her fingers twitched and begged for freedom. "Yes?" She winced at the weak squeak, took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "Yes, I'm Ms. Franklin. And that makes you," she tilted her head, "Macon Winston." He gave a short nod. So much for being old, wrinkled and wearing high waters and a bolo tie. Ray forced a smile. It was time to take control. This man and his checkbook held the keys to her future. "I'm sure you're ready to hear all about the home-care agency start-up." Raye's finger brushed the lock on her briefcase and it fell open, spilling half its contents onto the sidewalk. She waved off Mr. Winston. As she knelt and began to hurriedly pick up the loose papers, he joined her. "Please, allow me," he said, reaching for the remains of her proposal. file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (164 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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As he turned and she saw his backside, the true meaning of tight buns and a perfect fit branded itself for all time on her memory. Unfortunately, he pivoted back before she could avert her gaze and handed Raye the proposal. Her face burning, she shoved the last of the papers in her briefcase. With a knowing chuckle, Mr. Winston helped her to her feet. "Well, ma'am, I do wanna hear more about this venture of yours. Though I think we'll be more comfortable talkin' inside. Don't you?" he asked, his voice laced with heavy amusement. Raye flashed a weak smile. The sooner, the better. "Yes, of course." She hurried through the door he held open. Moments later, they were seated, with Raye's briefcase on the empty chair beside her, and they had ordered. Raye tried to relax. After all, how much trouble could she get into while sitting at a table in a crowded restaurant? If she could maintain an air of professionalism, she'd be set. Unfortunately, that meant no eye contact, but better to look weak than lustful. Raye opened her case, shuffled the loose papers back into order and removed her business plan. As she lifted her gaze from her papers, she almost dropped her plan on the floor. What was it about green eyes that always got to her? She'd blow everything if she didn't get hold of herself. She had to stay focused on her goal and the beneficiaries of her business - rural people in need. She couldn't allow lust or nerves to destroy this meeting. She handed the plan to Mr. Winston, then, with cool efficiency, picked up her iced tea, sipped it, and gracefully set it back down. Unaware the drink rested on the knife blade, the tall glass toppled sideways. Raye lunged for the drink. Tea covered the table and dripped onto the floor. Ice cubes lay scattered about, begging to be stepped on. "I'm so sorry," she said, mopping up what she could. "Don't worry about it," Mr. Winston and the young waitress said together. She'd blown it. No way would he want to invest money with someone who seemed to be the Typhoid Mary of the business community. Heck, after two accidents within ten minutes, she'd begun to have doubts herself. She glanced up at Mr. Winston. At the laughter in his eyes, she swallowed hard. Where was her muchvaunted self-assurance when she needed it? She couldn't allow her one to opportunity slip away because she was embarrassed.

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With the waitress still wiping up the mess, Raye leaned forward. "I know from your call that you're interested in the home-care company I'm starting. I also understand your skepticism." "Oh?" "I mean, I'm sure you're curious about how someone like me can build a home- care business. I'd be skeptical myself if I didn't know my qualifications. Let me assure you I'm up to the job." Enough already! Take control! Show confidence in your plan and yourself. Raye pulled a financial statement from her papers and slid it to Mr. Winston. "This is from my previous home-care operation. My old CEO allowed me to use it as an example." She shrugged, then laughed. "He doesn't consider my little rural business a threat to his operation." Mr. Winston's hand covered hers, and Raye froze. "Ms. Franklin, stop. You don't need to sell me." Raye froze. It felt as if all the oxygen in her body had vaporized, leaving behind a trail of smoldering ozone. By sheer force of will, she left her hand under his and focused on what he was saying. "My grandfather died last year from cancer. He wanted to come home to die, but, in the end, that proved impossible. There were no home-care agencies or hospices in Cumberland County willing to follow a patient - even a wealthy one - on a continuing basis. So, rather than die as he wanted, he was stuck in a nursing home forty miles away in Richmond." Raye hadn't missed the flash of pain and remorse in his eyes. Empathy filled her. "I'm so sorry. I know how much it hurts to lose someone you love." She turned her hand over and squeezed his. "Thank you. In any case, my grandmother refuses to go into a continuing care retirement center. And that brings us to your proposal." "Does she live out here?" Macon nodded and his hand tightened on hers. "For now. But, without Granddad, I'm not sure how long she'll last." Raye blinked back tears. Why did she always react so emotionally to someone else's pain? Pulling her hand free, she lifted her napkin to her lips and dabbed, hoping he wouldn't notice her blotting her runny nose. "I've lived in Texas most of my life and wasn't able to help my granddad. But I'm back now and going to make sure history doesn't repeat itself."

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"As much as I need and want you as an investor, why don't you move your grandmother to Texas? After all, that's your home." Winston scowled and leaned forward. Both his large hands rested on her papers. "I would, but my grandmother sees things differently. She refuses to leave. Virginia is and always has been her home. When she saw your ad, she demanded I investigate you and your business. Your company's to take care of her, when she needs it, in her own house." Covertly struggling to breathe, Raye leaned against the back of her chair as she tried to determine the cause for her shortness of breath. Two answers popped to the front immediately. She was so close to her goal and she, who was never aware of men, nor was noticed by them, found herself ready to throw herself across the table and say, "Take me, now!" What made it worse was he seemed to be as good a person as he looked. The man hadn't called because he wanted a good investment. He'd called because of his grandmother. If she let him invest, she had to make sure their paths never crossed. A killer grin lit his face. At the deep dimple in his left cheek, Raye almost wept. "I also want to make money, of course." He picked up her business plan. "Shall we start?" Aha! Just as she thought. Raye took exhaled slowly. Thank goodness he'd shown his true colors before she was swept away by his charms. As much as she hated having her prince turn into a frog, there was no way around it, not if they were to do business together. She'd focus on his mercenary nature as the real reason for his interest in All Care Home Health. Macon Winston was a full-blown Texas Toad, not a polished Virginian posing as a weekend cowboy. That garbage about his grandfather and grandmother had been staged to cover his reason for investing - profit. With a nod, she launched into explaining the graphs, showing income mix, insurance data, and current and projected population by county. "I hope I haven't gone too fast, Mr. Winston. I sometimes forget not everyone works in health care." Raye glanced over at him, then mentally winced. She hoped he didn't think she was too anxious. She'd been so involved with pitching her business plan, she hadn't touched her lunch, while he'd eaten all of his. He set his fork down. "No problems here. Listen, don't call me Mr. Winston. I'm Macon. And if you don't mind, I'll call you Raye." He reached for his iced tea. "Go on, tell me how you're going to make all this money." She reminded herself to keep smiling even if it caused her muscles to spasm. "We should break even in seven months and end the year with a thirty thousand dollar surplus. By the end of year two, you'll receive considerably more, assuming you assist with a few minor tasks so I can pay you a consulting file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (167 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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fee." She saw Macon raise a single eyebrow. "There's no such thing as a free lunch." "I wouldn't exactly call an investment of one-hundred-fifty-thousand-dollars a free lunch." Smart, real smart! "Touché." She pulled out more forms and passed them to Macon. "Medicare is costbased, so the money's required to go back into the company or be paid out for services rendered." His gaze left her face, traveled slowly down to her chest, where it lingered for a moment, then returned to her face. "Services rendered?" Raye's mouth clamped shut. It seemed his interests weren't only mercenary. Not that she could afford to get involved with him, no matter how mutually attracted they were. Business and pleasure did not mix. Especially when that pleasure was sex with a capital S. She chose her words carefully. "For work, assistance with the business operations. What do you think, Mr. Winston? Is this investment something you and your grandmother would be interested in?" "The name's Macon." She swallowed hard. Macon's stare dared her to use the formality again and promised the payment wouldn't be pretty. "Yes, of course. Are you interested, Macon? In the business proposal, that is." He glanced up for a second with a quizzical expression. Then it was gone as he squared his shoulders. "I'll supply the money as needed in increments of fifty thousand dollars, and, until I reach a comfort level, I want weekly reports. There's also one condition." He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. That same slow, killer grin spread across his face, and Raye began to sweat. "For the first six months, I'll be your business manager. I'll be in the office full- time. That is, until hay mowing season. Then I'll come in two days a week. Any extra work above that, I'll do after hours at home." Macon's smile deepened. "With me at your side, the bottom-line should improve immediately." Raye felt the color drain from her face and pool in the bottoms of her feet. Macon Winston in her office... around her...every day. No! No, no, and a thousand times no! "I don't need an employee, Mr. - " His glare stopped her. "I need an investor, Macon, not a workhorse." "You have an investor, Raye." He handed back her papers. "But only if you're willing to agree to my conditions." Raye slipped the business plan into her briefcase and snapped it shut. "Those are your only terms?" At

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his nod, all of her objections wilted. How could she deny him when he'd been her only bite on a loan in the past six weeks? She couldn't, and that blasted Texas cowboy knew it, too. "It's a deal." "Good." He tossed some money beside his plate, then pushed back from the table, stood and walked around to her chair. "Allow me." He pulled her chair back, took her hand and helped her up. "I look forward to our profitable association," he said as he brought her hand to his lips and lightly kissed it. Raye shivered at the touch of his lips, then watched in silent horror as he visually caressed the length of her. "So do I." She sure hoped they had the same definition of profit.

Raye traced hers and Macon's signatures on the signed and notarized contract. She'd finally done it! Her dream was about to come true. Of course, she didn't have the money yet, and wouldn't for another week, but she knew she'd see it. Macon had promised. Once the money was in the bank account, she'd open her doors. With any luck, the state surveyor would inspect in a week or less. Thankfully, she'd worked with most of them so the process should be smooth. After filing her copy of the contract, Raye wandered outside and sat on the front porch. She loved the country and wanted to work out here. It felt right. She'd succeed. She had to. She was a competent nurse and a good manager. In each job she'd had, she'd taken on increasingly difficult assignments, from managing a small agency of $150,000 in annual revenues to being a zone manager for a large chain with a multi-million dollar price tag. Suddenly, paralyzing fear gripped her. "This is what I wanted. It is!" she reminded the open fields. Then she rose and walked to the side of the porch for a closer look at the glorious Virginia sunset, letting her thoughts drift back to her days working for the mega-corporation. She'd risen through the ranks in only six years. Although she'd done a superb job, she'd hated the politics, the "brown-nosers" and the decisions from management, which had never made sense for her region. Strange how, due to that, the business world had lost its charm. Well, not entirely. Raye liked the work. Only she wanted to be in Powhatan working for herself. Could she succeed with her own business at the age of twenty-nine? Why not? Bill Gates had at twenty-six. The jarring ring of her phone shattered the solitude. Lunging, she grabbed the cordless phone off the porch railing. "He - "

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"Hi, honey. I just finished baking a batch of homemade chocolate chip cookies. The kids have been pleading with their old Nana to give them one. Can't do it now. They have to have lunch. Why don't you come over and join us?" Raye smiled. As usual, her mother's call was one-sided. "Not right now, Mom. What with getting ready to open the agency, I need to burn off some energy. Jogging a few miles, not cookies, is what the nurse orders." "You don't need to jog. You need a man! He'd get rid of that nervous energy. Thank heavens one of my children gave me grandkids. At the rate you're going, you never will." Raye shook her head. "I'm not ready for the wheelchair or staring at the cracked linoleum floor yet, Mom." "Hmmmph." "Mom, I love my career." "When you're old, a career deserts you." "And a man won't?" "Oh, Raye, all men aren't like your Uncle Andy. Think about it, dear." "I will. See you in a couple of days." Raye pressed the off button. Her mother had been harping on the same subject ever since the day Raye graduated from college. As proud of her as her parents were, they were distraught with her lack of male companionship or prospects. If only her parents could understand that marriage wasn't in the cards for the foreseeable future. Though she needed to concentrate on making her dream a reality, Raye felt a twinge of remorse. Without a soul mate, she had no one to enjoy the achievement of her dream with her.

Macon rode the perimeter of the west pasture, studying the fields. They'd deteriorated during his absence. Now, just to feed his stock, he was forced to buy grain from a neighbor. He could only hope the mowing went well. Without sufficient feed, he'd be compelled to spend the capital budgeted for repairs. Shielding his eyes, he glanced at the relentless summer sun. Between near- drought conditions and the file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (170 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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low water table, he doubted he'd make it through the summer with his herd intact. He pulled his Stetson low over his eyes, then urged his horse into a trot. At the pasture's gate, he glanced back at the field. Memories of the well- maintained farm of his youth bombarded him. First, as a youngster, then as a teen, he'd spent his summers here. Having left home for Texas, his Dad had never understood his attachment to Virginia, nor did he understand when Macon tried to explain it was the abundance of trees and grass. Even today, parched, it looked green. In contrast, his father and mother loved life in West Texas, the land of tornadoes and red dust storms. His land in Texas was precious to him, but nothing took the place of Virginia. Macon stood in his saddle and surveyed the farm's acreage in disgust. In Texas, his five hundred acres outside Idalou yielded a tidy fortune in cotton for the largest jeans company in the world. He'd even diversified and started growing colored cotton for the designer market. But there was a difference between his Texas operation and here. He not only had the support of his workers; he had an able and competent foreman in Texas. Unfortunately, due to his grandfather's illness, the not-too-able foreman had taken over general operations and Macon had come home just in time. Although a good man, Hank wasn't what one would call a farmer or businessman. The proof lay in the condition of the land and cattle. He'd also been just in time to invest in Raye Franklin's home-care operation. Macon removed his handkerchief from his back pocket and mopped his forehead, then jammed the damp cloth back in his jeans. Arriving at the barn, he walked Jeb to the side, turned on the faucet, and filled the trough for his gelding. Raye Franklin. That woman made him break into sweat. Something his ex-wife Myrna had never managed. Worse, "The Raye Effect," as he now called it, had hit him with their first meeting. Macon shook his head, trying to clear his mind of visions of Myrna's cold beauty. She'd been like jock itch. You wanted to scratch, but you knew it had you by the balls. As Jeb nuzzled him, Macon stroked his nose. Raye had been different. The woman was totally unaware of her appeal. When he'd first seen her, he'd started to laugh. There she'd stood, all buttoned-up in that navy suit, her auburn hair piled high in a French twist. She'd dressed the same way as Myrna - minus the jewelry, of course. Then she'd seen him. The shock, then fear, on her face had told him she was no polished barracuda. Her large, midnight blue eyes couldn't hide her feelings. Feelings she didn't want to know she had. They ran deep as the underground water on his land - over five hundred feet down. During lunch, he'd lost track of what she'd been saying. He'd been mentally pulling all the pins out of her file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (171 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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hair while easing her close and placing small kisses up the side of her neck. When she'd asked him if she was going too fast, he'd almost said, "No, not fast enough." No, Raye wasn't like Myrna, nor any other woman he'd met. Still, he instinctively knew she was capable of running the business. He'd also meant it when he'd said he wanted a home-care company for his grandmother when she needed it. That was his number one priority. Yup, he'd made a good business decision. Now, he had to find a way to maintain a strict business relationship with her when all he wanted was her in his bed. Macon shook his head and ground his teeth. He was first and foremost a businessman. Known for his cool head during even the most heated negotiations. His attraction to Raye could be controlled just as easily as he did his temper in a business meeting. She was his business partner, nothing more. It'd be a snap. Nothing to it.

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Excerpt from Promise Me

Vanessa deHart

Copyright © 2003 Marcella M. H. Kampman

Chapter One When Pigs Fly. How apropos. The name suited the small-town pub, although the locale hardly suited him. What a helluva day. Damon stared into his amber-colored drink and watched the melting ice cubes collide. He twirled his glass around on the ring of condensation on the scarred counter. The blare of music accosted his ears. The reek of stale beer and greasy chicken wings assaulted his nose. He sighed and took a gulp. What a helluva place. He yanked his silk tie loose and thrust it into his jacket pocket where it hung on the back of his barstool. He loosened the top two buttons of his shirt, pocketed his diamond-stud cufflinks, and rolled up his shirtsleeves. Overhead a ceiling fan whirred noisily yet accomplished little. Stifling a sigh, he raked his fingers through his hair. People jostled him from all sides. Voices rose and fell in a tumultuous torrent. He sat hunched over his drink, isolated from the boisterous crowd. "I think there's something wrong with Angel," a male voice said somewhere off to his right. "Not in trouble with the law again, I hope." "I think it's something a lot more serious." "What could possibly be more serious than that? Heck, that last fiasco had the town talking for months." Uproarious laughter drowned out the voices. Just great. Damon rubbed at the prickly five o'clock shadow lining his jaw. All he needed was to be stuck in a hick town that boasted its own Mafia brute.

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Any guy named Angel, who was undoubtedly a regular troublemaker with the law, had to be nothing less than a hit man for a gang. He cursed his car for breaking down in the middle of nowhere. He should've put his fear aside and flown to Ottawa. He owned a private jet, but he only flew in it under duress. He knew he wouldn't be in this mess if he could just slay that one incapacitating dragon. Why was hindsight always twenty-twenty? Now here he sat, marooned, while elsewhere, urgent business required his attention. From their haphazard places on the walls, photographs of pilots and poorly rendered paintings of airplanes stared down at him. To make matters worse, he'd ended up in pilot heaven. His temples began to throb with a headache measurable on the Richter scale. "Angel's been seeing an awful lot of Stu lately. He's been flying in at all kinds of odd hours and staying through the night. I wonder what's going on?" "They are good friends, you know. Hey," a wicked chuckle punctuated the young man's next words, "you aren't jealous, are you?" Damon paused with his glass in midair. He glanced about to see exactly what kind of a bar he'd landed in. He noticed a healthy number of women around. He took a cautious sip. The first man, apparently ignoring the intended jibe, said, "I don't think Angel's feeling her old self. She didn't come last Saturday, the first I've known her to miss in living memory. I'm just worried about her, that's all." "Speak of the devil, or should I say angel, here she comes now." The overheard conversation piqued his interest, and Damon glanced at the door. Several young men, who appeared to have been keeping an eager eye out for the woman in question, jumped up at her entrance. "Angel!" someone called out. "Come on over and join us." "Angel baby, you look sensational." "Wanna beer?" "Bring the lady a beer!" Declining the cold brew thrust in her direction, Angel laughed and greeted people as she squeezed into a spot along one of the long plank tables where a space on the crowded bench had miraculously appeared.

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Damon blinked. The woman was a vision against the backdrop of the hazy pub. Long blonde hair cascaded down her back. She wore a bright, full skirt that swirled when she walked and a simple, off-theshoulder T-shirt that enhanced her smooth skin. He forced his attention back to his drink and the captivating ring of condensation. Two seats beside him were suddenly vacated as the men who'd been sitting there left to join the crowd gravitating toward Angel. She held court like some kind of queen. Damon resisted the urge to glance her way. He wasn't interested. He took another long pull from his drink. Two women immediately claimed the seats beside him at the bar. One woman wore a short black dress that looked a size too small, while the other looked to have been poured into a skin-tight green outfit with flashing sequins that drew a man's attention away from her face. Studiously, he ignored them. "I'm surprised Angel came after all," one of the women grumbled. "It's tough to get a piece of the action with her hanging around." "You know what they've been saying about her after that fainting spell a couple a weeks ago?" "Yeah. The guys say she hasn't been feeling well lately." The woman in the too-tight dress snorted. "And I heard Bud say he found her spilling her guts out behind the hangar just the other day. You know what I think? I think little Miss Perfect finally let some guy under her skirt." "I think you're right. And if that's the case she wasn't so perfect after all not to take precautions." "Serves her right. She's probably too perfect to know how to get rid of it. Harry!" the woman in black called out in a sharp voice to the bartender. "Bring me a Screwdriver." The woman nearest him, the one glittering in green sequins, seemed to suddenly notice that he was sitting alone. "Hi, honey," she said. "You're new in town, aren't you?" Damon stood up, intent on leaving, then decided that he wasn't about to let these women drive him away. Not deigning to give the woman a reply, he resumed his seat and his taciturn silence. There was no law that stated he had to be sociable on his off hours. Angel glanced around at her friends and co-workers and sipped at a glass of water. The scent of Harry's famous spicy chicken wings made her stomach gurgle in anticipation. An irresistible sense of familiarity and friendship embraced her and she smiled, glad she'd come. "Who'll we get to strip tonight?" Arlene, one of the women already seated, asked with an exaggerated leer. Dull light gleamed along her dangling earrings and highlighted the purple streaks in her short, spiky hair. She owned the only lingerie shop in town and often went out of her way to promote her goods.

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"You couldn't pay me enough." Pete, a gangly young pilot who always looked as if he were trying to grow a beard, shuddered in mock horror while holding up his hands to ward off invisible mobs of women. "You'd have to pay us to watch," Cindy, a pretty, plump brunette and one of the few female pilots, declared. Pete's ears reddened; Angel laughed at the banter. Idly she glanced through a gap in the surging tide of bodies surrounding her. She spied a stranger lounging at the far end of the bar. The dark stubble hugging his sexy jaw belied the fact that he looked out of place in the pub. No one else wore a suit. Most of the men wore jeans--faded, torn, patched, or otherwise. Some had on khakis, but none wore suits. The newcomer stood up for a moment, tall and broad shouldered--clearly the most handsome man in the room. Angel let her unabashed gaze travel up and down his six foot plus frame. Attractive, she mused. Very attractive. She wouldn't mind watching him strip. His dark hair looked mussed, as if he'd run his fingers through it recently. She tried to imagine what it would feel like to slide her own fingers through its thickness. She stared with uninhibited interest as he settled back down to nurse his drink. He leaned back on one arm while glancing around the room. His roving gaze immediately captured Angel's blatantly curious appraisal. Lifting his drink, and one dark eyebrow, he saluted her. Checking the impulse to return the salutation, Angel turned aside. Slowly she raised her glass and took another sip. The man looked vaguely familiar, as if she'd seen his face before. Could she be starting to forget things like that? Could she have forgotten ever knowing such a virile man? Goosebumps dotted her flesh at the grim possibility. "Let's dance." She grabbed the nearest man and hauled him to his feet. "We've been sitting long enough." Not until they were halfway across the room did she notice that heavy-set Rob Peterson, one of the newly licensed pilots, clung to her hand. Rob wasn't exactly one of her favorite people, but he would do in a pinch. "The lady wants to dance!" The call went out to the live band in the corner from another pilot standing on the sidelines. "Give the angel some room to spread her wings." A path opened up to the tiny dance floor, nothing more than a bare space left vacant in front of the band. file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (176 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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Once Angel realized what she'd started, she caught the lead musician's eye. Bud, her flight dispatcher, attacked the strings on his guitar. In the space of a note the leisurely tune disappeared and the steelstringed instrument throbbed to a rock-'n'-roll beat. Carl, the drummer, touched one of his sticks to his forehead in acknowledgement, and she smiled. He'd keep the music hopping. When he wasn't playing on the drums he worked for her as the flight school's chief technician. Rob grasped her hand and began to swing her around in a fair imitation of the jive. "I finally got you where I want you." He reeled her in to his side. Angel laughed. "Dream on." With a jump and a shout she flung her hands in the air in time with the music. Another pilot stepped onto the dance floor and tapped Rob on the shoulder, letting him know his time with Angel had come to an end. Angel kissed her fingertips and waggled them at Rob before giving her full attention to Frank, a reed-slim black man and her most senior flight instructor. A sudden awareness made her glance through a hazy slit in the crowd toward the stranger still seated at the bar. Her breath caught in her throat. She wished he'd come and dance with her. She grinned up at a new partner, breaking the eye contact that had held her spellbound. Some time later, several guys from her last course swarmed the dance floor. They'd been a rowdy bunch to teach and were an even rowdier group to dance with. Like a hot potato they handed Angel around and around until the group collapsed in hoots of laughter. With her arms linked between two chortling men, she stumbled breathlessly back to her place at the table. Sliding along the bench Angel squeezed in next to Cindy. "Some girls have all the luck." Cindy shook her head and groaned. "You know, you are the luckiest woman alive. What I wouldn't give to be you." Angel grabbed her arm. "Don't ever envy me," she snapped. "You have no idea..." She turned her head before Cindy could somehow see into her eyes and thereby learn the truth. With trembling hands she pushed her hair behind her shoulders. The worst of it would be to lose her independence. If she could no longer run her flight school, if she were forced to live with her folks again, if she... No one knew. No one had to know. Her pulse raced. The upbeat music, with its surging measure, tugged at her tormented imagination. Boisterous laughter broke into her reverie, and with a start she returned to the conversation.

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"--came out of the cockpit wearing a parachute and said, 'you folks wait here while I go down for help!'" Another round of laughter washed over her senses and buoyed her soul. She'd missed the joke, but not the healing laughter. A good dose of humor was just what she needed. Coming tonight had been the best course of action. She smiled up at Frank. She'd ask him to come over later tonight to discuss business. The school was in a lot of financial difficulty right now, but she knew that its reputation was solid enough to weather the storm as long as its creditors didn't panic. A compelling force made Angel look in the direction of the bar. All thoughts of business flew out of her mind. The newcomer still sat there, watching her with a speculative gleam in his dark-shadowed eyes. Their gazes caught and held. His recurring interest intrigued her. Again she let her thoughts drift over the possibility of watching him strip, or dancing with him, up close and personal. With the safety of distance, she let her gaze linger over his body. This time she offered him a silent salute with her lifted glass. "That guy sure is a hunk." Cindy sighed elaborately in her ear. "What I wouldn't give to dance with him." "Looks like Dolores and Lydia are trying to do just that." Angel indicated the two women perched like vultures on either side of him. "I guess they're hoping to get lucky tonight." "He looks too smart for them," Cindy said. "You know, he looks familiar. I swear I've seen his face before." She twirled a brown lock of short curly hair around her index finger, her hazel eyes narrowed and thoughtful. "You think so, too?" The relief Angel felt at hearing those words astonished her. "I dare you to go over and talk to him. It's ladies' night after all." "No way!" Cindy nudged Angel with her shoulder. "I dare you to go over and talk to him." She chuckled and gave a half smile. "I bet you can't get him to dance with you." "What do you wanna bet?" Anticipation slammed into Angel. She knew what some people were saying about her, and she didn't care. She wasn't about to cower in a corner. "The usual." Cindy raised her eyebrows. "I knit you something of your choice, or you give me some hours free flight time." "You're on." Angel gave Cindy a high five. "Better get your knitting needles out. Christie's baby'll be here soon, and she could always use another baby sweater."

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"Don't count your chickens." Cindy dropped her hand and picked up her mug. "He looks like one tough customer." Before Angel could comprehend her own actions, her feet propelled her halfway across the room. This is insane. What am I doing? She never indulged in her particular brand of brazenness with strangers. But then, a tiny voice reasoned, what's there to lose? Before she stalled and lost altitude, she closed the intervening distance. Several of the school's candidates lounged around the bar trying to entice the women sitting there to talk. Dolores and Lydia, flanking the handsome visitor, knew a good thing when they saw it and weren't biting. Angel stepped up behind the stranger's broad back. She rested her hand on his shoulder to attract his attention. The feel of his warm hard muscle under her fingers sent a tingle of awareness coursing through her system. She looked over his shoulder into the mirror behind the bar and their gazes locked. A real live portrait, hovering there amid the sparkling lights and the shimmering reflections of the hanging glasses, captured her attention. The man in the mirror lifted the corners of his mouth into a lazy smile that sent her pulse racing. Angel returned the smile and winked. He raised an eyebrow and swung about to face her. Up close she could see that his eyes were a deep midnight blue. "I saw you coming," he drawled. His husky, sensuous voice sent delicious shivers racing along her spine. Shimmering warmth stole over her. "Let me guess," he said as he looked her up and down. "You're Angel." He picked up his glass and took a long swallow, then tipped it toward her. "Are you offering to be mine?" "To be your what?" Angel didn't want to be cast in the same mold as the other two women. Stalling, she hooked her hair behind her ears. "You want me to be your heavenly messenger? After all, that's what my name means." "Actually, I could've used a little divine intervention earlier today. What I figured you're offering me now, tonight, is to be my own personal angel." The double entendre made her heart skip a beat. Angel intended to maintain control of the situation and knew she had to keep the bantering light. She planted her hands on her hips. "Only the devil would ask that." "My name's Damon." He grinned. "I'm almost a demon but not quite. Is that devilish enough for you?"

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He had a very sexy smile. She liked the way his mouth curved higher on one side. The dark, day's growth hugging his jaw made him appear rakish. No, dangerous. But then, she'd flirted with danger more times than she could count in the cockpit. She could handle him, no problem. "Damon." She tested his name on her tongue. "Loyal friend. Hmmm... and are you? Loyal that is?" Before Damon could respond, Rob Peterson interrupted. "Sooo, Damon," he said as he propped himself against the bar. "Are you here to fly with our Angel?" "Butt out," Dolores snapped at Rob. She turned and glared at Angel. "He doesn't look like he came here for you," she said pointedly. "He's not your type." Dolores laid her bright red manicured hand possessively on Damon's arm. Her short skin-tight black dress showed every curve to great advantage. She leaned closer. "I was just getting to know Damon when you horned your way in." "You obviously didn't get very far, Dolores." Angel tipped her head and lifted a brow. "It's ladies' night, and you're still sitting here." Dolores hissed in displeasure. A hard glint sparked to life in Damon's midnight blue eyes. "Now how would you get me to go further?" Angel's pulse fluttered in warning at his softly spoken words. "Let's see...," she mused. "We could dance." "I don't dance." "I'm sure I could teach you." "Maybe I don't want to learn." Damon leaned his elbows on the bar behind him. He already knew what the two women beside him wanted; he saw their kind often enough. Despite what he'd overheard earlier about her, Angel seemed different. "Why?" He narrowed his eyes. "Why me, when you can have any guy in the room?" "I've already danced with them." She dismissed the entire male population with a wave of her hand. She absently tucked her hair behind her ears, and the slight action stirred up the fresh scent of peaches. Damon inhaled. He enjoyed her freshness and her easy graceful manner. He'd watched her earlier with the men out on the dance floor. She was a woman who exuded vitality, a woman who lived life to its file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (180 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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fullest. Against his better judgement, Angel intrigued him. He thought of all the women he'd ever known, and they were all the same. Their promises, hinted or delivered, always fell short of the mark. What he did want, didn't exist. He noticed the sparkle of mischief in Angel's luminous gray eyes. Besides, she wasn't promising him anything now, was she, other than a bit of fun? Angel tapped a finger on her lower lip. Damon's gaze followed the small movement. She lacked the painted artifice of the two women flanking him. He felt the arc of sexual tension wrap its sinuous threads about his tired mind, stirring his exhausted body to a heightened awareness of her soft curves. Suddenly weary of where this was all leading, Damon decided to put an end to the banter. He knew she was just teasing, he had seen it all before, but something about her made him hesitate. He looked at Angel, with the light dancing around her head like a halo, and the words to send her away died on his lips. There was just that something about her. "If he doesn't want to dance with you, then you could take him flying, Angel," one of the men leaning against the bar suggested. "A night flight!" "Yeah," another enthused. "Take him to heights he's never imagined." "You can make him soar, Angel!" "You guys are impossible." Angel groaned and threw up her hands. Damon watched those slim delicate hands and wondered for an insane moment what it would feel like to have those hands touch him. That's it. Now he knew for sure that his brains were addled. "You can teach him," Frank said. "If you could teach this drunken sot how to dance among the clouds," the black man explained as he put his arm around Rob's shoulders and nudged Damon, "then you could teach anyone." "Okay." Angel spread her hands. "But I don't have time to give him the full course." She smiled. "It'll have to be a crash course." "Oooh..." A bunch of the fellows winced in commiseration. "Go easy on him, Angel. Don't let him crash the first time out." "Actually," she lowered her voice, "I had something more like this in mind." On a dare, she'd come to ask the handsome stranger for a dance. But somehow she'd gotten sidetracked.

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She reached out and let her fingers run boldly through Damon's midnight hair. It felt soft and silky, just like she'd fancied. She stared at the furrow her fingers made, then dropped her gaze to study the pulse at the base of his throat. She noticed a few dark curls lying against the crisp whiteness of his shirt. She imagined touching them; she flexed her fingers. She imagined tasting him; she licked her lips. She imagined loving him; she inhaled his musky scent. Every sight, every sound, every smell struck her suddenly as being brilliantly precious and exquisite. As his hand snaked out to halt hers, a tiny diamond glittered from the eye of an eagle engraved on a gold band around his little finger. The sight of the bird's reaching wings unfurled her own. "Don't you dare," he warned as she sidled closer. Angel stared at the sensuous mouth that had just issued the latest challenge. Tonight she dared anything and everything. She leaned forward and put her lips against his. Just a taste. That's all she wanted. Then she'd go. Totally unexpected, the shock electrified. Angel gasped. His warm breath fanned her mouth with an intensity that seared. She tasted strong liquor, raw male, and glorious life. Their breaths mingled. She breathed in his essence. His fingers gripping her shoulder branded her. Angel plunged in free fall. She never wanted to recover. She longed to fall forever into his embrace. Sanity slapped her in the face. How could she use another human being this way? She tried to pull back, but he held her in place. With her face only a few scant inches from his, she stared into the depths of his dark eyes; she noticed they'd gone smoky now with desire. What had she done to him? Her pulse hammered at her throat. What had she done to herself? She didn't want to analyze her uncharacteristic actions or reactions. She'd never felt this erotically overwhelmed before. Shocked at the roiling sensations the simple kiss had evoked, Angel jumped out of his grasp. Her hand flew to her mouth. The sounds of hoots and cheers broke in upon her consciousness. To top it off, she'd kissed him in a public place. Angel shoved her hair behind her ears. She tried desperately to recover her senses before the whistles and catcalls died down.

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She glanced at Damon and was relieved to notice the smug, sardonic expression that now replaced the momentary passion. He managed to obscure his desire behind typical masculine arrogance. Thankfully, he hadn't been as affected. She'd never been a tease and certainly didn't intend for this to go any further. "Sorry fellas." She held up her hands. "I'm afraid Damon's a slow learner. He'll have to get himself another dance partner." Her quick glance took in both women. She knew Dolores and Lydia would be more than willing to pick up where she'd left off. She ignored the pang that thought ignited. "He's all yours, girls." Lydia grabbed his arm. "Let me show you, honey," she said in her sultry voice, "how a real woman kisses." She pressed herself closer to Damon. "I think I just might take you up on your original offer," Damon answered Angel. He stood and towered over her. His inscrutable gaze pinned hers as he ignored Lydia's more blatant approach. Angel inhaled deeply and willed her heartbeat to slow down. She'd experienced such adrenaline surges after particularly wild flights when safe landings were still in doubt. In this situation she suspected the safe landing was definitely out of the question. Time to bail out. "That's quite all right." Angel lifted her chin, forcing her gaze not to drop. "I've changed my mind." "I don't think so. I want to dance. And you're the one I'm going to dance with." He grabbed her hand. Angel groaned inwardly. Would she never learn to curb her impulsiveness? No matter where she was or what she was doing, trouble always found her. Well, she'd have the one dance with him then call it a night. Damon's hand scalded the small of her back as he propelled her along. His warm breath fanned the top of her head as she felt his lean hard body pressing up close behind. For a moment she found his strong presence oddly comforting. She recalled the meaning of his name. She could use a loyal friend during the upcoming ordeal. Someone to stand by her through thick and thin. Someone who wouldn't abandon her when the going got rough. Like the Red Sea parting, the way before them opened up and led unerringly toward the dance floor. The band immediately struck up something with a quick beat, but Damon ignored the rhythm of the music. He clasped her right hand with his left and held them against his chest while his other hand encircled her waist and pinned her against the solid wall of his hard body. Accepting the closeness, Angel pretended that she belonged in his arms. "You never did answer why you wanted to dance with me." Damon's breath stirred her hair. "Aren't there enough other men for you to pick and choose from? Or were you just looking for another one to file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (183 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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add to your list?" "List? What list?" Angel looked up at him and laughed. "They're all my friends." "I'm not." "Actually...," she shrugged in his arms, "...I asked you on a dare." "And you, naturally, always accept a dare." He made it a statement. "Always." Matching him step for step, she asked, "So why did you decide to dance with me after all?" "To escape those two femme fatales." Angel laughed at the apt description. Knowing the truth, she chose to enjoy the moment. All thoughts, worries, and fears fled as she allowed herself to be wrapped within the security of his embrace. Melting against him, she savored the feeling of his powerful presence. He lowered his face to hers. He rubbed his rough jaw along the soft skin at her temple. The tingling sensation reached to her very toes, and she suddenly felt weak at the knees. She closed her eyes. His hard thighs rubbed hers. Her legs wobbled. With an intensity that overwhelmed her, she wanted a man just like Damon to hold, to make love to, and to grow old with. But Damon was a complete stranger. She didn't even know the first thing about him. He could be an ax-murderer for all she knew. "I suppose you wanted to flaunt that you're the most desirable woman here. I'll play along with that. I'm even willing to bet that all the other men in here would go along with that too." He lifted her chin with the back of his knuckles; his big hand still clutched hers in his strong grasp. "What are you saying?" She snapped out of her dream. "Seems to me like they're lining up expecting to get another dance with you. Maybe even one of those gut-wrenching kisses you hand out so freely." Angel dragged her mind back from the brink of the seductive abyss. Rob staggered into her peripheral view. Noticing his drunken leer, she knew exactly what he wanted. The last thing she wanted was to be passed off to a string of guys for a slow dance. A very slow and intimate dance. For years she'd kept file:///D|/STORAGE/Brighteyes%20FTP/UPLOADS/EBooks/Sylvie%20Kaye/Nobody's%20Angel.html (184 of 187) [11/11/2007 6:40:37 PM]

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every eligible male, even those not so eligible, at bay. She wasn't about to let any of them think their chance had come. Experience had taught Angel to spot a problem and make course adjustments long before the situation became a crisis. Intent on catching Damon off guard, Angel raised their joined hands, threw her head back, and in her best instructor's bellow shouted, "It's ladies' night! Damon here wants to dance! Who wants to be first in line to dance with our handsome guest and show him what a great place Swift Falls is?" Women swarmed the dance floor. They seemed to come out of the old pub's woodwork. And then Angel fled into the night, not even leaving him her shadow to follow.

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About The Author Born and raised in Northeastern Pennsylvania in the shadows of the Pocono Mountains and its honeymoon havens, Sylvie Kaye breathes the air of romance daily. After getting one short story published in 1994, she went from hooked on reading romances to hooked on writing them. An interest in cowboys and a road trip to Colorado provided her with a setting for her first book, Never Dare A Cowboy, which was published by Kensington in May 1998 and later re-released by LTDBooks. Her following work, Luring Jesse, was inspired by a trip to the Black Hills of South Dakota--and you guessed it, cowboys--and was published in 2000 by LTDBooks. Nobody's Angel combines cowboys, computers, and the beauty of Nevada. For more information visit www.sylviekaye.com, or www. ltdbooks.com to purchase these titles in a wide variety of formats.

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Publisher info: Stories that stimulate your laughter, Provoke your tears, Evoke your secret fears, Stories that make you think...The stuff that dreams are made of...LTDBooks www.ltdbooks.com

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