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Bride Candidate #9
Susan Crosby
SEX AND THE SINGLE MAN
Millionaire Luke Walker had narrowed his list of potential brides down to eight sweet, secure, non-passion-inducing women. For Luke was finished with all-sex, no-substance relationships. The ex-playboy wanted someone to share his quiet life someone exactly un like Ariel Minx. From the moment Ariel walked into his office, Luke knew his plan for a passionless marriage was history.
Bride Candidate 9 occupied his every thought and feeling, corrupted his good intentions and had him practically running for the bedroom. Luke simply had to have her. He just never dreamed Ariel would say no to the position as his one and only wife!


“I’m Asking You To Marry Me, Ariel.” (#ue7d04462-1a53-52e3-9079-a2b92dd9c7df)Letter to Reader (#u80ff98a1-1c04-558f-83eb-108c077825bc)Title Page (#u63bb21f9-65cd-5d7e-a606-9b40d2bd0032)About the Author (#ue7aa3af2-2fba-5b02-a150-9f8a8b0dc5ad)Dedication (#ue0177ba6-7c44-56f6-8690-97dfa0240d0f)Chapter One (#uf31b264b-eae7-5407-a9c9-e06f5ef2c1af)Chapter Two (#u77c2256f-1064-5395-92e4-bad35057ff1a)Chapter Three (#ub87e3562-33b6-56b1-9a90-b375de7c65fc)Chapter Four (#u48808d37-eece-5c8b-93cb-8612fdd98aa9)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)Teaser chapter (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
“I’m Asking You To Marry Me, Ariel.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why? Why does any man ask a woman to marry him?”
“We hardly know each other, Luke. Why are you putting me on the spot like this?” She stood abruptly, needing to get away from the ring Luke had taken out of the box and held now between his thumb and forefinger, as if he could just slide it right on her hand, branding her as his. “Tell me why, after six days, you’ve come to the decision that we could spend the rest of our lives together.”
“We’re sexually compatible, we like each other and I don’t think you’d object to having a large family. I know all I need to know.”
It was easier to argue with him than to dissect her feelings right then—and the fact that he wasn’t mentioning love....
Dear Reader,
Where do you read Silhouette Desire? Sitting in your favorite chair? How about standing in line at the market or swinging in the sunporch hammock? Or do you hold out the entire day, waiting for all your distractions to dissolve around you, only to open a Desire novel once you’re in a relaxing bath or resting against your softest pillow...? Wherever you indulge in Silhouette Desire, we know you do so with anticipation, and that’s why we bring you the absolute best in romance fiction.
This month, look forward to talented Jennifer Greene’s A Baby in His In-Box, where a sexy tutor gives March’s MAN OF THE MONTH private lessons on sudden fatherhood. And in the second adorable tale of Elizabeth Bevarty’s BLAME IT ON BOB series, Beauty and the Brain, a lady discovers she’s still starry-eyed over her secret high school crush. Next, Susan Crosby takes readers on The Great Wife Search in Bride Candidate #9.
And don’t miss a single kiss delivered by these delectable men: a roguish rancher in Amy J. Fetzer’s The Unlikely Bodyguard; the strong, silent corporate hunk in the latest book m the RIGHT BRIDE, WRONG GROOM series, Switched at the Altar, by Metsy Hingle; and Eileen Wilks’s mouthwatering honorable Texas hero in Just a Little Bit Pregnant.
So, no matter where you read, I know what you’ll be reading—all six of March’s irresistible Silhouette Desire love stories!
Regards,


Melissa Senate
Senior Editor
Silhouette Desire
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Bride Candidate #9
Susan Crosby



www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
SUSAN CROSBY
is fascinated by the special and complex communication of courtship, and so she burrows m her office to dream up warm, strong heroes and good-hearted, self-reliant heroines to satisfy her own love of happy endings.
She and her husband have two grown sons and live in the central valley of California. She spent a mere 7½ years getting through college, and finally earned a B.A. in English a few years ago. She has worked as a synchronized swimming instructor, a personnel interviewer at a toy factory, and a trucking company manager. Involved for many years behind the scenes in a local community theater, she has made only one stage appearance—as the rear end of a camel! Variety, she says, makes for more interesting novels.
Readers are welcome to write to her at P.O. Box 1836, Loch, CA 95241.
For Charlotte Brewer, an extraordinary bookseller and a treasured friend, with love and thanks. You’ve made such a difference in my life.
One
It was a short list, considering he was thirty-four years old, financially secure, reasonably good-looking and practically a household name. Luke Walker leaned back in his office chair and held a piece of paper aloft, contemplating the list he’d typed a few days ago while experimenting with his new computer. A nice, neat list of names. Eight potential candidates for the permanent job of Mrs Lucas Walker.
Luke flipped the paper onto his desktop, then spun his chair to face the window behind him and the view of the mountains, frosted with fresh January snow, looking as stark and daunting as his life.
Too many changes at once. He acknowledged that. After a lifetime of knowing who and what he was, he no longer had a clue. But an offhanded question from a reporter recently had planted an idea—now was as good a time as any to settle down and start a family. After all, the more new roles he could assume, the quicker he could find out where he would settle for the rest of his life.
He heard his office door open and close.
“Luke, your two-o’clock appointment is here.”
He searched his memory, drawing a blank, before he turned around. “I have an appointment?”
The assistant he’d inherited strode to his computer, punched a few keys and brought up his date book. “There. Two o’clock. Ariel Minx.”
“Ariel Minx?” He leaned forward to look at the monitor himself. “Hell must’ve frozen over.”
Silence hovered between them for a few seconds before his assistant spoke again. “I don’t think I’ll ask. She called early this morning and said she needed to see you, that it was urgent. You were in conference. Your message icon is lit, Luke.” A long-suffering sigh was built into her words.
“I haven’t mastered that function yet.” A sudden, clear image of Ariel Minx came to mind—blond, delicate, average height. She’d filled out a basic black one-piece swimsuit to perfection. Nice shoulders, too, he recalled, and an elegant back—things he didn’t usually notice on a woman.
“Is this business or pleasure with Miss Minx, Luke? Do you need me to take notes?”
His gaze drifted to the list of names, which he then shoved into his top drawer. “Business, I suspect. We met on that charity cruise last summer. Give me a minute, Marguerite, then show her in. If I need you, I’ll let you know.”
As soon as Marguerite left the room, Luke scooped up the crutches leaning against his desk and propelled himself across his office, swiping his suit jacket from a rack as he passed it. His crutches belonged in the bathroom, out of Ariel’s sight and curiosity, on the off chance this wasn’t a business call.
He had no intention of becoming another of her charitable causes.
Ariel Minx’s instincts were usually good, but she hadn’t pegged Lucas Walker at all. The office of the former star receiver of the San Francisco Gold Dusters and now president of Titan Athletic Shoes should have been gaudy with masculine pretense. It wasn’t.
Ariel turned a slow circle as she waited for him to arrive. She’d anticipated a giant trophy room of gleaming tributes to his years as a professional football player. At the very least, his six Sports Illustrated covers, framed for public viewing and admiration, should have peppered his walls. Perhaps even a mounted animal head or two, in keeping with his all-American-male image.
She figured he fished and hunted with the best of ’em, given his penchant for tall tales. But, if so, such manly pursuits weren’t in evidence here in his amazingly understated, tastefully decorated office, the furnishings of which were chosen for comfort, the arrangement cozy. She was drawn to the view of the Sierra Nevada mountains, and knew that beautiful Lake Tahoe was nestled a ridge away. She’d passed it on the way to Luke’s office building.
Damn the man, anyway. She couldn’t even fault him for having poor taste—and he’d been hard enough to resist with his more obvious liabilities.
“Well, Miz Minx, if you aren’t a welcome sight for these sorry eyes.” He filled the room with his presence as he came through a door, shutting it before he added, “What brings you out of the big city?”
In casual wear he had been imposing, she recalled. In a tuxedo, he’d all but sent her into a swoon. But then, most men looked good in a tux. Dressed for success, however, he overwhelmed. The navy blue fabric of his suit matched his eyes. A splash of burnished gold in his tie coordinated with his hair, gleaming brilliantly in the mid-afternoon sun shining through a picture window, freeze framing him in her mind.
“Cat got your tongue?” His eyes danced with friendly humor, as if he’d last seen her six days ago instead of six months.
Ariel frowned. He’d flustered her from the moment they’d met. She, who was always in control, chairing committees, not just serving on them. She, who managed a portfolio worth millions; she, who successfully sweet-talked celebrities and politicians into giving time and money to charitable causes, was reduced to struggling to find the right words with him.
Which was why she’d avoided him since the cruise she’d arranged and he’d attended as a sports celebrity—before his unexpected retirement. And if she’d been surprised or even a little disappointed that he’d taken her at her word and not contacted her during the ensuing months, she hadn’t thought about it more than, oh, a couple of times a day.
She focused on the ever-present cigar that he grinned around. “Good afternoon, Mr. Walker. Still stinking up rooms, I see.”
With a chuckle, he pulled the cigar from his mouth and ground it out in a nearby ashtray. He led her to a burgundy leather sofa, then sat beside her. He fingered the sleeve of her red wool suit. “Dressed like this, you must mean business.”
He was a toucher. She’d forgotten that. He must be a wonderful lover—Ariel blinked, cannoning the image away, not for the first time. “I have a favor to ask,” she said abruptly. “I thought it should be in person.”
“Would you like something to drink?” He didn’t wait for her answer, but pressed a button on a speaker phone. “Marguerite, would you get Miz Minx and me a fresh pot of tea, please?”
“I’d be glad to, Luke,” came the immediate response.
“‘It should be in person’?” he repeated to Ariel, not skipping a beat.
She shifted her gaze from the intercom to his face. “What if I’d wanted coffee?”
“You don’t drink coffee.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Why, Ariel, we shared quite a few meals on the cruise. You always ordered tea. Plain tea. No fancy flavors. No sweetener. No milk. A smart man pays attention to what a lady in his company prefers. Now, the woman who sat on my other side—”
“The one you were setting your sights on that first night, until her husband joined her?”
His eyes twinkled. “I was just bein’ friendly.”
“Uh-huh.”
“She liked margaritas—and keep ’em coming. And the lady across the table drank only milk. Six months pregnant, you recall.”
“Which leaves Mrs. Kent...”
“She enjoyed her sherry, didn’t she?”
He waited, a challenge in his silence.
“Am I supposed to be flattered that you remember my tastes, Lucas, when you can also remember everyone else’s?”
“Can’t say the issue was whether you should be flattered, darlin’. Only that I noticed.”
Reluctantly Ariel smiled. Something else she’d forgotten—how easily he’d made her laugh. How much fun he was with his born-and-bred Texas drawl and understated humor. He’d been the only unmarried celebrity on the cruise, so at times—most of the time, actually—they’d ended up as a pair. He hadn’t harassed her. He hadn’t even looked at her with lust. But as soon as they’d become a couple by default, he’d monopolized her attention, entertaining her with stories that could as easily have been truth as fancy, and chipping away at the wall she’d built instantly between them, knowing she couldn’t handle him in the way she handled any other man.
Before they returned to port, he’d managed to chip that wall low enough to step over. But when he’d asked to see her after the trip, she’d automatically said no—and he’d respected her wishes. She’d become more grateful as time passed, coming to believe it would have been just another shipboard romance.
But seeing him again made the feelings resurface fast enough to give her the bends.
Maybe she was making a huge mistake coming to him for help—
“What can I do for you, darlin’?” he asked in a tone so tender she almost threw her arms around him Had her face revealed her feelings so vividly? She pushed her shoulders back and lifted her chin. “I’m here on business, Lucas. Strictly business.”
“‘Lucas,’” he repeated, angling her way. “No one but my grandmother calls me that. Same prickly tone of voice, too.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, then rested her shoulders against the cushions, making herself relax. “I’m under a lot of pressure right now. I don’t mean to take it out on you.”
“I’m just such an agreeable target.”
“Too agreeable. You shouldn’t let me get away with it so easily” She touched the back of his hand in apology.
He turned his hand over and entwined his fingers with hers. “You have abused my tender sensibilities upon occasion.”
Ariel’s breath caught. He’d held her hand on the cruise now and then, mostly in public, when he needed her to seem like his date in order to avoid a fawning fan. And he’d held her chair for her at meals, then touched her shoulder or arm briefly before moving on to take his own seat.
And they’d danced. He was an incredible dancer, but it wasn’t his smooth moves that had triggered a shortness of breath or a rise in body temperature. There’d been something magical about the connection she felt with him, stronger than she’d ever felt for any man.
She might have accepted his invitation to see him after the cruise, too, if she hadn’t been so afraid of the attraction. He was a man who graced magazine covers, a man who lived in the spotlight, a place she couldn’t ever afford to be again, not if she wanted to keep what she’d worked so hard to achieve.
Regardless, they were too different in too many other ways. Compared to her slight frame, he was too big. A humble bone didn’t live in his body. He didn’t walk; he swaggered. He was forever chomping on that infernal cigar. His chest was hairy. He wasn’t anything like any other man she’d dated. Not even close.
And yet...the mere touch of his fingers to hers reduced her to jelly. She looked from their joined hands to his face. He seemed content just to sit there with her, not saying anything, which was staggeringly out of character He tended to talk a charmingly outrageous blue streak.
After a minute his assistant, a stunning brunette in her mid-twenties, came into the room, carrying a tray with a teapot, two mugs and a plate of cookies. Ariel tried to slide her hand from his.
“Will there be anything else?” Marguerite asked.
“No interruptions, please.”
“Yes, sir.”
After the door closed, Luke released her hand and picked up the teapot.
“You don’t have to entertain me. I came here on business,” Ariel said, noting how gracefully he poured even though his hands were large, his fingers long.
“Well, now, I don’t know how you do business, but I kinda like to ease into it.” He passed her a mug. “I’ve got plenty of time for you.”
“I’ll bet you don’t hold hands with most of your associates ”
He turned his head her way and flashed a smile. “You’d be right about that, darlin’.”
“Or call them darlin’.”
“Right again.” He picked up his mug and almost took a sip. “Haven’t seen any of them in swimsuits either. But that’s neither here nor there,” he continued. “So, I can see you’re all tensed up. Why don’t you tell me what’s goin’ on?”
Luke sipped his tea and watched her wrap both hands around her mug. She was nervous, he could see that. Why? he wondered. Him or the reason that had brought her here? He couldn’t wait to find out
“Oh, it’s this Couch Potatoes Mash event I cooked up. Your team getting into the Super Bowl has ruined it. And it looks like I’ve gotten all these kids’ hopes up for nothing. Which happens far too frequently in their lives. And I really want this—”
“Hold on, there, Ariel.” He stretched an arm along the cushion behind her. “Start at the top.”
She blew out a breath. “I had this brilliant idea to have a mid-winter, let’s-get-our-butts-off-the-couch event to raise funds for the Wilson Buckley Youth Center in San Francisco. Have you heard of it?”
“Can’t say as I have.”
“It’s an excellent facility, with the highest standards and a tremendous staff in a pretty tough neighborhood of the city. My vision was a whole day of competition for the kids, kind of a mini-Olympics, followed by a dinner-dance and silent auction for adults. I figured I could get local businesses to sponsor individual athletic events. The publicity would draw more kids into the center and show them there are safe places they can go and have fun, particularly during the middle of winter. We planned it for the last weekend in January.”
“Super Bowl weekend,” he said, looking away from her.
“Which is less than two weeks from now, as you know. Well, no one expected the Gold Dusters to make the Super Bowl without—Well, without you. All the sports writers said so, and for most of the season, it looked like they’d be right. Then, you know what happened.”
He took a controlled sip of his tea, needing a moment before he responded. “They came to life.”
“Did they ever! But now I’m in a big jam, Lucas, and I hope you can help me out of it”
“Go on.”
“The Center is privately funded. They get no government support of any kind. They’ve just completed a major remodeling so that they can handle a fifty-percent increase in membership. Financially, they’re in deep, though. Several of the Gold Dusters had promised to support the event, but now that they’re in the Super Bowl, they can’t. The game’s the next day. Without them, interest is lagging.”
He stood and wandered to the window, keeping his back to her. He was glad to see her but—“Why don’t you just change the date?”
“We could, but everything’s in place. It was a lot to set up. I even got some of the kids involved, Lucas. They took part in the meetings with the local business owners so they could see how the system works—how to negotiate, how to deal with people different from themselves. They’ve got a lot at stake here, not the least of which is their need for people to believe in them and their genuine needs. If I can’t drum up a major sponsor for the event, we’ll lose everything we’ve put into it. At this point, we’d settle for breaking even and doing something again in the summer.”
“Which leads you to why you’ve come, I suppose. You want my company to take over sponsorship.”
“Would you? It would mean so much to the kids.”
He let the words sink in as he turned around. He couldn’t let his pride get in the way of an important cause. The look of expectation on her face made his stomach clench. He cocked his head. “You haven’t done this before, have you, darlin’?”
“Done what?”
“Fund-raising.”
Ariel fidgeted. “What makes you say that?”
“‘Cause you’re goin’ about it all wrong.” He carried his mug with him to his desk. “You’re supposed to approach your target expecting positive results. You should be anticipating my objections. You should be sayin’ things to let me try on the idea of involving myself. Now, I’m not sayin’ that usin’ the emotional approach won’t work, but a seasoned fund-raiser saves that tactic for last.”
“You’re limping.”
“Nice change of subject. Smooth, Ariel. Real smooth.” He chuckled and shook his head.
“Well, you were. I thought you’d had surgery. Didn’t it work?”
“It worked Rehab takes longer than you might think. It’s no big deal” He booted his computer and typed a few words.
“I was sorry to hear about your having to retire,” she said. “That must be really hard on you.”
“Not as hard for me as others, maybe. I had the company to turn to. I’ve worked for Titan since I was twenty-two, off and on. My grandfather decided it was a good time for him and my grandmother to see America, so it worked out all the way around.”
Ariel wondered if he was deluding himself that he could give up that part of his life so easily, or if he was trying to delude her. Men. Such tough guys. Can’t ever let anyone see them vulnerable.
She couldn’t sit still as he spent the next few minutes at his computer, looking at his budget—she hoped—for what he could swing for a donation.
She strolled to the window behind him. She ran a mental list of the advice that the foundation’s professional fund-raiser had given her, deciding she’d messed things up because she hadn’t factored in her own emotional response to seeing him again. Ariel had decided to meet personally with Luke, alone without the fund-raiser, since she had the advantage not only of having met him but of having spent a lot of time with him.
But Luke was right. She wasn’t any good at asking people for help. Which was why she usually just dove in and did things herself instead of begging someone else She glanced at the back of his head, wondering if she should tell him how desperate she was for his help.
“Any chance you missed me some?” he asked out of the blue, then turned and leveled a penetrating stare on her.
She cupped her mug a little tighter “A slight chance.”
“Slight, as in ‘a passin’ thought once a week’? Or slight, as in ‘way too much but I won’t let him know that’?”
“Somewhere in between.”
He tapped a pencil on his desk “Are you ever gonna cut me any slack? I didn’t do anything but admire you.”
“You monopolized my time so I couldn’t spend it with anyone else. I had lots of friends aboard the cruise. Friends who are more like family. I didn’t get to spend time with them thanks to you.”
“Family,” he repeated thoughtfully, tipping his chair back. “Now, there’s a word to consider. What defines a family to you?”
She frowned. “People you care about, of course. People you love. People you can count on.”
“So, they don’t have to be related by blood?”
“If that were the case, I’d have a family of one.” She regretted the words the minute she said them, because his gaze softened pitifully.
“Who would that be?”
“My Aunt Bonnie, the wildest, craziest woman you could ever hope to meet.”
“In what way?”
“In every way. She didn’t believe in staying put for longer than a few months, so I grew up traveling around Europe. It was quite an education” She set her mug on his desk. “What’s your answer, Lucas? Will you help or will those poor kids be at the mercy of the streets? Their futures he in your hands.”
“Oh, that’s good, Ariel. It’d be my fault if they turned into delinquents, right?”
“You could make a difference.”
A computerized female voice announced that e-mail awaited his attention. He punched a couple of keys, read the words that came up on the screen, shut it down, then moved to stand beside Ariel.
“Why did you come to me for help?” he asked
“You seem to march to your own drummer I thought if anyone could pull this off at the last minute, you could. I know that companies usually decide what and how they’re going to donate early in their fiscal year, but I was hoping you’d override your board of directors and pitch in. I also figured you’d be in town, anyway, for the game, so you might be able to drop in personally.”
“Well...you figured wrong.”
Two
“I see.” Ariel stiffened. She felt as if she’d just gained a hundred pounds, most of it in her feet, which she was afraid weren’t going to move forward on command and get her out of here before she made a bigger fool of herself. “I’m sorry to have taken up so much of your time. I can see myself out.”
“I haven’t said no. When I said you figured wrong, I meant about my coming into the city for the Super Bowl. The rest might be manageable.”
Her uncooperative feet stayed rooted. She smoothed her suit jacket down her stomach, fidgeted with the brass buttons, fussed with her purse strap. She’d counted on him—maybe for more than just his help out of a jam.
“I’ve just requested information from the comptroller regardin’ how much we could do for you, financially and with product,” he said. “He’ll bring the answers when he has them. But I’ll also need to check out the Center before we commit. We have to choose our causes carefully. Public opinion is what drives this company. And a good product, of course. We’re on our way up. We can’t afford to become involved in anything remotely questionable.”
Ah. So here was the hard-hearted businessman she hadn’t met. Good. He wasn’t merely a figurehead. She didn’t know why that pleased her so much, but it did. His image—Well, she’d been wrong about him. That’s all that mattered. “I’m sure you’ll be pleased with what you find, Lucas. But money alone can’t save this event from total devastation. It’s going to take a public show of commitment to the cause. From Titan and you. You’re the key.”
“Is your reputation on the line, too?”
“That’s the least of it.”
“Is it? Titan has credibility, enough credibility to turn things around. I need to know something, Ariel. Did you exhaust every other possibility? Was I your last resort?”
She shook her head. “You were the first person I thought of. The first person I turned to. The truth is, I’m desperate. We can’t afford the loss of publicity at this point. You’re high profile in San Francisco. You could make the difference.”
He looked away from her for a moment, then shifted his weight slightly.
“If I determine there’s no reason not to,” he said, “I’ll add the weight of Titan’s name to your cause. Now, don’t get that all-hopeful look yet. There are hurdles to jump first.”
“For me or for you?” Her heart did a little dance at his softening expression.
“Maybe both.” He brushed his fingers along her hair, a feather-light touch. “You know, I hadn’t seen you with your hair up. I kinda miss the way all that honey blond silk flows around your shoulders and down your back. I can’t remember those big brown eyes of yours bein’ so dark and mysterious either. Tell me you missed me, darlin’.”
“Like a fly misses a swatter, darlin’.”
He moved a little closer. “I wanted to kiss you that last night on the cruise. You kinda ruined the mood when I asked to see you again and you told me sure, as soon as hell froze over.”
“So you remembered. I was hoping you wouldn’t.”
He ran a finger along her jaw. “I doubt I forgot much about you.”
She listened to her heart pound. “Not too many women turn you down, I imagine.”
“Just ’cause I’m kinda well-known, doesn’t mean I’m not out there scroungin’ for dates on Friday night like every other man. I’ve had my share of turn-downs.”
“I find that a little hard to believe. One of the magazine articles I read about you called you a party animal, or something like that.”
He toyed with her earring, just barely brushing the skin below it with his thumb. “Amazin’ what a well-paid personal publicist, not to mention a team publicist can do for a man’s image, isn’t it? I might’ve kicked up my heels now and then, but I wasn’t nearly as busy as the media liked to paint me Women weren’t beatin’ down a path to my door, darlin’. Sure made for good press, though.”
Even though her skin rose in bumps of reaction to his touch, she held herself perfectly still. “Maybe you need to give up those cigars you’re so fond of. Personally, I’ve never understood how any woman kisses a man who smokes cigars.”
“Well, now, that part’s simple, Ariel.” He framed her face with both hands and lowered his head. “Like this.”
Any thought of resistance evaporated in a heartbeat, perhaps because she’d been waiting for this moment. Hoping for it. At the touch of his lips, she took flight in a long, slow takeoff of reaction, soared in a current that kept her adrift and astonished and mesmerized. At the feel of his arms enfolding her, she began a free fall of delight and desire and something close to fear. He wasn’t supposed to taste this good, or feel so familiar, or fill so many needs at once. His smoky scent only added to his appeal, making him so distinctive, so much his own man. So much a man she wanted.
When he lifted his head, she was overwhelmed with the need to stay in his arms and be held. He let her go too soon.
Here was the biggest risk. Not the Center, no matter how important that was, but her heart, which was in much greater danger of being lost. She’d known that from the moment she’d met him. Known it and ignored it. Known it and denied it. She still had to make sure she didn’t fall under his spell. He was far too public a person.
Someone knocked on the door At Luke’s invitation, a man walked in, a very tall man with the distinctive look of a Walker about him.
“I’ve got that information for you, Luke.”
“Sam, I’d like you to meet Ariel Minx. You’re gonna be spending a little time gathering some data from her. Ariel, this is my cousin, Sam Walker. He’s Titan’s comptroller.”
“I noticed the resemblance,” she said, shaking off the kiss, trying to settle her feet back on the ground and pull her head from the clouds. “I figured you were brothers, though.”
“Close as,” Sam said. He looked at Luke. “Are we working here or in my office?”
“Here. Three heads will be better than two, in this instance.” He slid his jacket off and loosened his tie. “Grab yourself a cup of coffee, Sam. We’ll be here awhile.”
From his office window, Luke watched Ariel climb into her Explorer. Snow wasn’t predicted for tonight, but he was glad she had four-wheel drive, just in case. The thought of her driving to San Francisco at night, a three- to four-hour trip, depending on traffic, bothered the hell out of him. He hadn’t been able to convince her to stay over, though. Too many obligations at home, she’d said. Obligations. Her middle name, apparently. She worked more than full-time, and all as a volunteer.
“Drop your pants, Luke.”
Ignoring the distinctly feminine command, Luke waited until Ariel’s car was out of sight before kicking off his shoes and unbuckling his belt. The running shorts he wore underneath were a new style and would hit the retail market next month. He’d expected to wear them himself. In training, that is. It wasn’t going to happen now. Hell, he’d be lucky to walk without a hitch for the rest of his life—provided his surgery went well.
“Hurry up. My hands are freezing,” Marguerite complained.
He limped to the sofa, took the towel she offered, then sucked in a fierce breath as she molded a plastic bag filled with ice over his knee. It had taken everything he’d had in him not to show Ariel how much he hurt.
“Do you want a pain pill?” Marguerite asked as he situated himself more comfortably.
“Just took one.” He hated taking them, so he avoided it until the pain became unbearable. He shifted until he lay flat, shoving some pillows under his leg to elevate it above his heart.
“Exactly what was so all-fired important about this meeting that you couldn’t use your crutches?”
“None of your business.” His amiable tone dulled the impact of the words.
“Oh, I see. This is the one. Gotta be caveman for the potential wife.” She snorted. “Her name wasn’t on your list, the last I looked.”
He opened one eye. “I don’t recall seein’ anything about badgerin’ the boss in your job description.”
“And I haven’t seen anything about playing nurse, either, but I’m doing it. Quit being a baby.”
Luke opened his other eye. “Lord, I feel sorry for Sam. I think I’d better clue him m about you before he’s shackled for life.”
“Sam knows what he’s getting. He loves me because I’m bossy.”
“And because you’ve got a body that won’t quit,” Sam said, appearing out of nowhere. He slid an arm around her waist.
“Won’t quit what?” Marguerite teased him.
“Come with me, little girl, and I’ll show you.”
“Stop growling like some lecherous wolf, Sam, and take it somewhere private,” Luke muttered.
“Jealous?”
“Hand me a cigar, then go home. Both of you.”
Sam plucked a cigar from the humidor on Luke’s desk, snipped off the end and passed it to his cousin, along with a lighter. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah.” Luke caught the look that passed between Sam and Marguerite. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Turn off most of the lights, too, please.”
He waited until the door closed before he groaned. As soon as the swelling subsided and the medication kicked in, he’d be able to function again. He knew the drill. Until then, he had to lie still.
He blew a smoke ring, then another. Sam’s innocent query gave him pause. “Jealous?” he’d asked. Yeah, he was jealous. Jealous of Sam’s unbroken body. Jealous of his having a companion to share his life with. But not jealous of his impending marriage, not when Luke could see how hot Sam was for Marguerite.
Luke had made that mistake twice in his life—confused lust for love. Not this time. This time he would choose a woman he knew would be a good companion outside of the bedroom. And someone who didn’t want his money, either. He’d prefer a woman whose body was the exact opposite of either of his voluptuous ex-fiancées, a woman who didn’t make him fantasize.
He knew what he wanted. Home and hearth. Continuity. They had to be on the woman’s wish list, too.
He relaxed as his pain eased. Maturity hadn’t sneaked up on him—it’d slapped him full in the face. First, with the arrival of his thirty-fourth birthday six months ago. Then the damned injury two months later. He might have tried to continue playing ball for another couple of years, hoping that he wouldn’t totally destroy both knees, but he’d decided to stop sacrificing his body for his sport, difficult as that decision was.
Finally, the last big change, the sudden opportunity to take Titan to a whole new level of competition in the industry when his grandfather had turned over the presidency of the company to him. His entire life was going to be different from here on. A normal existence, finally. One where he wasn’t taking orders from coaches and trainers and owners, but leading the team, instead, and deciding the future. And marriage, of course.
Lust wasn’t going to make his decisions for him this time. Not that dubious emotion love, either, whatever that was. Nope. This time he was choosing a helpmate, a companion, a friend.
Gingerly, he swung his legs around and sat up. He’d already had surgery on one knee. Day after tomorrow, the other. Cautiously he stood, not moving until he got his balance, then he walked to his desk, switched on a light and opened his top drawer. He plucked a small velvet box from the corner he’d shoved it into and pushed up the lid. A flawless, three-carat diamond ring sparkled back at him. A ring his jeweler insisted any woman would be thrilled to wear. He snapped the lid shut and picked up his neatly typed list, examining it, top to bottom.
Each name was followed by the details he thought important. They represented a spectrum of professions—Realtor, two lawyers, orthopedic surgeon, physical therapist, actress, loan officer and television sportscaster. Five of them already had children—a definite advantage in his book—but it also meant an ex-husband to deal with forever because of kids being involved. Of the three childless women, he could conjure up the image of only one, the sportscaster for a San Francisco station, whom he’d met last year. He supposed he remembered her face because he’d seen her on television since.
Names. They were just names.
His plan suddenly seemed idiotic. Juvenile. And yet, how else could he get what he wanted? He had to start somewhere.
He let the paper drift back onto the desk, the sound as it landed seeming to whisper a word. He glanced out his window at the darkening sky. A moment later he picked up a pencil and scrawled an addition to the list—the name that had been in his head trying to get out all afternoon:
9. Ariel Minx—
He hesitated. What did she do for a living? Did she have any children? He realized how little he knew about her.
Finally, he added: professional do-gooder. That made him smile.
He took the paper with him as he returned to the couch and stretched out again. He drew on his cigar, contemplating Ariel. He admired that she hadn’t asked for help for selfish reasons. Had she begged his assistance for herself alone, he might have agreed without learning whether it made sense for Titan She hadn’t used that leverage.
Because she’d been so adamant about his not contacting her after the cruise, he hadn’t considered her before, but he could see that she would make a good wife. A great hostess. A phenomenal mother She wouldn’t care that they’d have to adopt, either. She’d love those kids just the same as if she’d given birth to them.
The scent of her perfume drifted over him before he realized how impossible that was. He’d already filled the air with cigar smoke. Wait. There it was again. Soft and flowery. He turned his head toward the back of the couch and sniffed. The leather seemed to breathe her fragrance.
He smiled. That all-business suit and hairstyle had thrown him at first, not looking like his recollection of her. But the fire in her eyes hadn’t changed. That she’d rebuffed him once before didn’t matter. He had a clean slate, he figured, since she’d come to him.
He tried to recall their kiss, but he’d been in so much pain, he hadn’t really been able to concentrate on it at the time. Without being able to put much weight on one leg, it was all he could do to stay upright. Still, if the lust had been strong enough, it would’ve wrestled the pain out of his mind, wouldn’t it? Yeah. He was sure of that. He’d had plenty of experience with lust. He’d only kissed Ariel because she’d all but challenged him to.
Yeah, right. Got some other fairy tale on your mind, Luke?
He stared at her name before folding the paper carefully and sliding it into his shirt pocket. He could make his own rules this time—and there was no rule saying he had to start his search at the top of the list.
Three
Ariel hung up the phone and flopped back on her bed, covering her eyes with her arm What a stubborn man Lucas Walker was. He hadn’t succumbed to any carrot she’d dangled in front of him Yes, Titan was going to save the Couch Potatoes event, but, no, Luke wouldn’t make a personal appearance. She’d thought for sure she’d be able to convince him. Ha!
A week had flown past, with phone calls back and forth, faxes sent and received. In the end, Titan would not only be the largest sponsor of the event but would also provide each participant with a new pair of athletic shoes, as well as T-shirts not available to the public yet. Luke had lined up a ton of autographed sports paraphernalia, not just from football players, but from most other pro sports as well. The ticket sales for the dinner-dance and silent auction were twice what her committee had anticipated during the initial planning, three times what they were a mere week ago.
Sold out. She couldn’t ask for more.
She was asking, however. She wanted him there, in person.
The thought curled around her like a drift of his cigar smoke, stinging her eyes. As long as she was being so honest with herself, she might as well take the truth the whole way—she wanted to dance with him again, to be in his arms again, maybe even kiss him again.
A memory of their last evening on the cruise had surfaced during the past week. She’d gone for a swim, enjoying the empty pool as everyone else partied. When she’d finally emerged, Luke had materialized out of the shadows, wrapping a towel around her from behind, his arms enfolding her, drawing her against him. Even through the fabric she’d felt the warmth of his body all the way down to her toes.
They’d stayed like that a minute or two, awareness sizzling. It was then that he’d asked to see her again.
She’d almost said yes. The truth was, she’d almost invited him to her cabin. Then someone walked by, calling his name, and she’d remembered his place in the world. Remembered the stack of Sports Illustrated magazines with him as the Super Bowl MVP on the cover that he’d autographed for the fans who’d donated big money just to be on the same cruise ship with him.
She’d found the strength to turn him down because of it. He didn’t have a clue about how hard it had been for her to give up the chance to see him again, when, in fact, she’d found him charming, appealing, exciting and very, very tempting.
Luke seemed to have all the determination this time around, however. He had no intention of being in San Francisco while his team played in the Super Bowl. The pain of not playing was more than he could bear.
Oh, he hadn’t said so, but she knew it.
The phone rang. She shoved herself up to answer it.
“Hi. It’s me again. I know you’re probably ticked off at me.”
“I won’t ask you again, Lucas. I promise. You’re not coming. I accept it.”
“Actually, I changed my mind”
“You did?”
“Under one condition. If I do your event, you do mine.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I can’t seem to get the Dusters’ owner to take no for an answer. Everyone expects me in the box for the game. I’m asking you to go with me.”
Ariel clutched the receiver closer. He didn’t know what he was asking of her, of course. Didn’t know that she shunned the spotlight—and why. Could she risk a public appearance with him?
Sacrifice. The word bound them together. They would both be sacrificing something. Hers was greater—
“Ariel? You there?”
“I’m here.” She swallowed “And you’ve got yourself a deal. Where will you stay, though? I heard on the news that every hotel is booked.”
“Darlin’, darlin’ You don’t really think I’d have any trouble linin’ up a room, do you? Celebrity has its perks.”
The teasing tone didn’t completely cover some emotion she couldn’t quite name, but that she could hear, beneath the surface of the words. If he stayed in a hotel, he’d be hounded by the media. How many times could he answer the question of how it felt not being able to be part of history? She knew how intrusive the media could be.
She sighed at the inevitability of what she was destined to ask him next. First, sacrifice, now risk. “If you don’t mind not having room service or the media camped outside your door, Lucas, why don’t you just stay with me at my apartment?”
Unearthly silence followed. She filled it. “It’d sure make it easier all the way around. We’ve got to get to and from the Center, then the dinner-dance, and then the game. I think we know each other well enough to coexist for a few days. You have to leave the cigars at home, though.”
“I wouldn’t smoke in your house. Any other rules I should know of?”
“I don’t know if you would consider it a rule, but, just so that there’s no confusion, you will have a bedroom of your own. And this is a strictly platonic invitation.”
“Naturally.”
She swore she could hear him grinning. He had agreed to the stipulation way too fast.
“Okay, Ariel. I’ll be there. Thanks for the offer.”
“When will you arrive?”
“Wednesday night. I’d like to check everything at the Center ahead of time myself. I’m kinda curious, though, why you’re makin’ rules before they become issues. If you’re afraid of something, why don’t you just tell me now, and we’ll settle it before we see each other.”
“I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Doesn’t sound like it to me, Ariel.”
When they ended the conversation a few minutes later, she wondered the same thing. The answer was easy. She was afraid of him and his very public life. She was also drawn to the vulnerable side of him, the tough guy who she decided didn’t want the world to know how hard it was to leave his celebrity status behind, the identity of “football player,” a role he’d had since he was a boy.
But something stronger had pushed and shoved its way past all that. The acknowledgment that she needed him, too. Needed to feel like a woman, cherished and valued for who she was, not because she was a quintessential volunteer and the ultimate hostess.
She just wanted the fantasy for a little while.
“This is stupid,” Marguerite shouted as she ducked her head against the driving wind and rain bombarding San Francisco. “Just tell her the truth, Luke.”
He returned a quelling look, then climbed the next stair. And the next.
“If she’s any kind of woman, she won’t care about your disability.”
“I don’t want to be coddled. And I’m not disabled permanently. I just decided to put off the surgery until after this weekend. Keep your voice down now. We’re almost to the top. She’ll hear us.”
“Men,” Marguerite muttered, hefting a rain-splattered bag.
“Including me in that tone of voice, sweetheart?” Sam asked, adjusting Luke’s Pullman and suit bag as they ascended the stairs to Ariel’s second-floor apartment.
“For the moment. Talk to him, Sam.”
“It’s like talking to granite, and you know it. He’s—”
“Shh.” Luke came to a stop at the landing. He resisted rubbing his aching knee. “Just set the bags down and scoot on back to the rental car. I’ll take it from he—”
The door opened, spilling light on the three, who probably looked like five-year-olds caught playing doctor, Luke decided.
“Brought your entourage, Lucas?” Ariel asked, opening the door wider. “A big, strong man like you can’t carry his own luggage?”
“Hello to you, too, darlin’.” Lord, she looked good. He brushed past her, letting Sam and Marguerite follow. He got an impression of space and color and warmth as he glanced around her living room.
Ariel tossed a towel at Marguerite, then disappeared into a room and returned with a couple more for the men.
“Take off your jackets. I’ll fix something to warm you up.”
“They’re not staying,” Luke said.
“Don’t be rude.” Ariel gave him a direct look
“I spend fifty to sixty hours a week with Luke as it is,” Marguerite said. “You think I’d willingly subject myself to more?”
Sam chuckled. “Gotta get to the hotel” He passed the towel back to Ariel and placed a hand at Marguerite’s back.
Ariel’s brows lifted. “You have something urgent to do at ten-fifteen at night?”
“After the flight we just had, a hot bath and a stiff drink seem not only urgent, but a matter of life or death,” Marguerite said
“You flew here? I assumed you were so late arriving because the snowstorm in the Sierras made the roads tricky to drive.”
“Blizzard,” Luke corrected her, curious at her sudden pallor “We sat on the tarmac for a couple of hours waiting for a window of opportunity.”
“They should have canceled the flight.”
“Once the tower granted permission, it was my call, since I’m the pilot,” he said, then grabbed her arm when she swayed. “What’s wrong with you?”
“You’re a pilot? You flew yourself here?” she asked, her eyes huge and dark “In a blizzard?”
“It was clear when we took off. Ariel, I’ve been flyin’ for more than ten years. During the off-season I represented Titan all around the country. Flying myself saves a lot of time and hassle getting from place to place, but it’s also my recreation. You have a problem with that?”
She shrugged, the color returning to her cheeks as she pulled free of his hold. “Nope.”
“Good.”
Marguerite snorted.
“Come on, sweetheart. We should get going,” Sam said, tugging on her arm.
“Ariel.” Marguerite called over her shoulder as she was being physically removed from the house, “make sure he doesn’t climb your stairs too many times a day.”
Luke took three long strides to reach the front door He leaned around the jamb. “You’re fired.”
“Fine,” she yelled back. “You’re a pain in the butt to work for, anyway.”
He grinned as he shut the door.
“That’s funny?” Ariel asked.
“She either quits or I fire her once a week.”
“But she doesn’t leave, and you don’t replace her, right?”
“She’s engaged to my cousin. Where should I put my gear?”
Ariel blinked at the quick change of subject. She picked up the suit bag and led the way to the guest room. “What did Marguerite mean about not climbing my stairs?”
“Nothin’ for you to worry about. My knee’s been a little tender, that’s all. I’m tryin’ to rest it. Hadn’t counted on your being up a flight.”
She glanced at his legs, but didn’t see anything unusual. No sign of a knee brace, no excess bulk from being wrapped. His jeans fit him from hips to ankles nicely. Very nicely, indeed.
He filled up the room, Ariel thought as she hung his bag in the closet. An average-size room to start with, it suddenly seemed tiny now, the queen-size bed too small for his frame, the quilt too dainty, the curtains too frilly. It wasn’t that he was so big, actually. Although in comparison to herself, he was. He was just so...so much a man. One who was a little overbearing—well, maybe more than a little. And extremely appealing.
“Are you hungry?” she asked into the quiet that had settled between them. She didn’t want to feel so comfortable with him.
“If you’d share a pot of tea with me, I’d be obliged.”
“I never figured you for a tea drinker, Lucas. Coffee, black. Whiskey, straight. Steak, rare. That’s what I would have expected.”
“You got the rest of it right. Don’t care much for coffee, though. Why don’t I unpack, then I’ll join you.”
“Okay.”
“Oh, Ariel?”
She turned in the doorway.
“This is a real nice place you’ve got here.”
“Thanks. The view was the deciding factor for me. On a clear day, you can see the world from my front window. Well, at least a good portion of San Francisco Bay.”
Ten minutes later, he wandered into her kitchen and leaned against a counter. He’d exchanged his rain-soaked clothes for sweatpants, a T-shirt and socks. “I take it you were worried when I didn’t show on time,” he said.
“A little bit.”
“It does my heart good to hear that, Ariel. Real good.”
She poured a mug for each of them, not meeting his gaze. “I was afraid I’d have to find someone to take over all the jobs I’ve volunteered you to do.”
He chuckled. “Afraid you might spoil me if you ever let a compliment cross your lips?”
“Too late for that. You were ruined long before I met you.” They moved into the living room and sat on the sofa, one at each end. “I am in your debt, however, for what you’ve done for the Center.”
“I’m glad I could help.” Luke tried to get a handle on her mood. Except for her opening salvo when he’d first arrived, her insults weren’t being delivered with much punch, as if she felt the need to get them out, but not engage in any bantering with him. “What’s got you quiet as a cloud? Thinkin’ up some new insult?”
She smiled slightly. “Actually, the quiet part you should take as a compliment. I’m tired. I generally hide that from most people.”
She did look tired, now that he looked more closely. “Anything I can do?”
“I’ll put you to work tomorrow. Sam and Marguerite, too, I guess. I’m assuming they’re here to help.”
“I promised the board of directors at the Center that we’d oversee the finances of this event. I want to make sure there’s a profit, not just the break-even goal you said would satisfy you.”
“No one told me that”
“Are you on the board?”
“No. I’m an angel, though. And this event was my idea.”
“Well, now, I’d say your golden hair might lead some people to think you’re wearin’ a halo, but I’ll bet Saint Peter’s gonna give you grief at the Pearly Gates. He’ll have seen the way you treat me.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Benefactors are called angels. I’m on the board of the Angel Foundation, which contributes regularly to the Center.”
“I’m curious about that, Ariel. How do you support yourself? As far as I’ve been able to determine, you’re not employed.”
“Interest.” She tucked her feet under her and cupped the mug more closely.
“Interest?”
“On investments. People don’t volunteer time the way they used to. I can afford to.”
“You’ve got an MBA from Stanford, but you don’t put it to work. Why’s that?”
“Who says I don’t put it to work?” She lifted the mug again, then lowered it to her lap. “How’d you know that, anyway?”
“Part of my investigation into the Center. I checked out everyone. We had so little time, we hired a PI.” He tapped his fingers against his mug. “Funny thing. He didn’t find any record of you before you enrolled at Stanford.”
She took a quick sip of tea. “Why would that matter?”
“Professionally? For no reason. But personally? I was curious.”
“What’d you expect to find?”
“Perfect attendance in elementary school? A driver’s license issued on your sixteenth birthday? I don’t know. A past. Apart from learnin’ you’re twenty-seven years old, you’re Stanford educated, you’ve lived at this address for three years, and you donate your time to a lot of worthy causes, I don’t know anything about you.”
“There’s nothing mysterious about it. I told you I grew up in Europe.”
He noted that wariness had combined with weariness to darken her eyes. “And you said you were tired Me, too. Let’s go to bed, darlin’.” He took her empty mug and stood. “Now, don’t you go lookin’ at me like that. I wasn’t bein’ suggestive. I have nothin’ but the utmost respect for you. I can’t help it if you’ve got a dirty mind”
He returned from the kitchen just as she levered herself up from the couch. She shook her head.
“You’re incorrigible, Lucas.”
“Well, see, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m putty in your hands, just waitin’ to be molded. So, what time do we get started in the morning?”
They walked across the living room. “I have to be at the senior citizens center at eight. You probably have friends or teammates you want to see, so feel free to do whatever you want until ten, then we should get over to the youth center.”
“I don’t think my hangin’ around with the Dusters is a good idea. I’ll tag along with you, instead.”
“You’ll probably be pretty bored.”
“I doubt that.” He pushed her hair back from her face; his fingertips grazed her temple.
Oh, hell. She was begging to be kissed. He could see it in the dark pull of her eyes and the way her lips parted He stopped a sigh from escaping by pressing his lips to her forehead. “Sleep tight, darlin’.”
She laid her hands flat against his chest and leaned into him. He didn’t seem to have a choice other than to wrap his arms around her. He heard her sigh. He felt her nestle, her cheek rubbing his shoulder. Damned if she didn’t feel good there, all cuddly and subdued Wifely
A moment later she pushed herself away. “I’m glad you made it here safely,” she said, her words bright and cheery again. “Good night.”
Intrigued by her changing mood, he half smiled and rubbed his jaw as she shut her door. “Good night?” He wondered
Ariel dragged a towel along her throat, across her chest, down one arm, then the other. Her sweat-dampened pajama top lay discarded on the bed beside her. Her gaze flickered to the clock. Two-thirty. Her hand shook as she lifted the glass of water from her nightstand and gulped it down, not coming up for air until the glass was drained. She gasped a breath, managed to set down the glass, then blotted her face with the towel.
She wondered if she’d screamed. Probably not or Luke would have rushed in. She lay back and stared at the ceiling. Her skin tightened into a mass of goose bumps from nightmare sweat and winter cold.
She hadn’t had the dream in so long. So very long.
And she knew exactly what had triggered its return.
She raised herself on her elbows, needing to get a fresh pair of pajamas, but her body wouldn’t cooperate further. If Luke hadn’t been there she would have washed away the terror with a long, hot shower. He was there, however, separated from her only by a communal bathroom and two closed doors.
Part of her wanted to crawl in bed with him, beg his sympathy, find oblivion in making love until she couldn’t think another thought. Until she couldn’t picture anything but an imaginary field of flowers misted by a spring shower—anything other than what she’d just seen again in the dreams she’d thought were long gone.
It hadn’t worked before, though, so why should it this time? If anything, it would probably be worse, because of who and what Lucas Walker was. Would always be. She had no fantasies about him changing. Part of his charm, albeit questionable sometimes, was his unapologetic belief in himself. It’s true he was searching to find a new place in the world now, but nothing stood in the way of his accomplishing that goal. He would have a normal life. She didn’t doubt it for a minute.
Oh, for the comfort that would bring.
“I hand each person a card as they pass by?” Luke asked, shuffling the stack Ariel had just handed him.
“That’s right. Every time they arrive back at the information table you give them another one. That way they keep track of the number of laps they’ve gone, around the Center’s walking course.”
Luke rubbed his jaw. “They can’t remember?”
“Shh” She looked around. She’d chosen a job for him that would keep him busy while she attended to other business at the senior citizens center. “No, they can’t always remember. They get busy talking and forget.”
“Does it even matter?”
“They have goals they set for themselves, Lucas. They want to know if they’ve reached or exceeded them.” She watched him take note of the people milling around, dressed mostly in jogging suits.
“Some of them aren’t wearing shoes with enough support,” he noted.
“Care to make a donation?” she asked sweetly.
“I might.” He cupped her chin and looked hard at her. “I don’t believe you caught up on sleep last night.”
“You snored. The noise kept me awake.”
He let his hand drop. “I do not snore.”
“Is that a confirmed fact?”
“Curious about my love life, darlin’? A man who’s been engaged twice in this modern age would’ve been told, don’t you think?”
“Good morning, Ariel. Is that a new boyfriend?”
Ariel turned her head by measurable degrees, too stunned by Luke’s announcement to focus on the woman who’d approached. Twice? He’d almost been married twice? Well, now, didn’t that bit of news put a whole new twist on things. “Um. Oh, uh, Emma, good morning. No, he’s not my boyfriend, new or otherwise. This is Luke Walker. He’s the president of Titan Athletic Shoes.”
“Titan. Just Titan, now,” he said, holding out a hand to the frail, stooped woman. “We’re branching out. Not just shoes anymore.”
“My grandsons like your shoes, young man.”
“I’m glad to hear—”
“Status symbols,” Emma announced, then clucked her tongue and wagged her head. “Skewing all the kids’ concept about what’s important. In my day, we knew the value of a dollar. Didn’t waste ’em on high-priced footwear when something practical would do. Had hand-me-downs most of the time, too.”
“Emma! Yoo-hoo, Emma!”
She flitted away to greet her newly arrived friend.
“Well. I guess she put me in my place,” Luke said, bemusement on his face.
“They speak their minds. It’s one of the things I love about them all. Okay, Lucas, you need to take your place. They’ve started their warm-up stretches.”
Ariel checked on him every so often. Each time, he was smiling more, flirting more. The ladies batted their eyes at him. The men jabbed back in imaginary boxing matches. Only Emma seemed immune, turning her nose up at his efforts.
When Ariel had finished arranging meal deliveries for the Center’s housebound members, she joined Luke. The daily walking had ended. He’d pulled up a chair at a round table with a few people, not talking, but listening to them. Intently.
She came up behind him and laid her hand on his shoulder, alerting him that she was there.
Luke pushed back his chair and stood. “Miz Emma, now don’t you go charmin’ anyone else the way you did me today. I swear, you wouldn’t be able to keep ’em all at bay.”
“Don’t get smart with me, young man”
He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’ll take into consideration everything you had to say. I appreciate your honesty.”
Flustered, Emma fumbled with her knitting. “Maybe there’s hope for you yet.”
Luke settled into the driver’s seat of Ariel’s car a few minutes later. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he pulled away from the curb.
“Don’t mind Emma,” Ariel said, glancing his way. “She’s a chronic complainer.”
“But she’s right. Kids today have enough on their minds. They shouldn’t have to put up with peer pressure over whether or not they’re wearin’ the right shoes.”
“Lucas, we went through it, too.”
“But I’ve contributed to it. Profited from it.” He drummed his fingers harder.
“So, what do you propose to do? Erase your football career? Reduce your prices? Shut down your business?”
“Think about it,” he said. Not that he hadn’t considered the issue before, especially when the marketing department presented a new advertising campaign geared at kids. “You know, this could be a whole new market.”
“What could?”
“Seniors. They’ve got different needs, don’t they?”
“Different challenges,” Ariel said.
“Yeah. Arthritis, joint replacement, foot problems. Believe me, I can sympathize, even at my age. What if we design a line for seniors? Velcro straps. Better shock absorbency. Designs made to fit an older foot better.”
“Affordable.”
“Affordable even for Emma.” Luke grinned. “Your whole group could star in the ads.”
Ariel could picture it. “Emma’s grandsons would think she was so cool.”
“She’d be a great spokesperson, wouldn’t she? We have to do this right away, before any more time passes. I’m gonna start on it first thing when I get back to the office.”
Ariel smiled to herself. All it took was personal involvement, getting people to really look at others, to see them as individuals. That’s the way change came about. Luke had just taken a big leap of awareness. He’d find the rewards waiting, just as she had.
Satisfied, she closed her eyes and rested the final few blocks to the youth center.
Four
Chase Ryan, administrator of the Wilson Buckley Youth Center, was the meanest-looking person Ariel knew. In the three years she’d known him, she hadn’t once seen him smile. His granite face hewn in a perpetual scowl, he could turn the toughest, most foul-mouthed teenager into a model of good manners with just a look. Every kid who came to the Center learned fast that the soft-spoken man meant business. Oh, he gave second chances—once—but he had no tolerance for people, young or old, who didn’t learn from their mistakes.
Ariel and Chase coexisted peacefully because each respected the way the other worked—Ariel with warmth and friendliness, Chase with uncompromising expectations. She wondered how Luke and Chase would get along.
When Ariel and Luke stepped into the Center, they almost crashed into Chase, who had a giggling child tucked like a football under each arm.
“Ariel,” he said without expression.
“It’s the mermaid,” the three-year-old boy under his arm shouted. “Hi, Mermaid.”
“Jacob. What’s happening?” She high-fived both kids, then looked at the man holding them again. “Chase, this is Luke Walker. Chase Ryan”
Chase nodded. His gaze bore into Luke’s. “Thanks for stepping in. It made a big difference.” He hitched the kids a little higher and walked toward the classroom the preschoolers used.
“Rules with an iron fist, I’ll bet,” Luke commented to Ariel.
“You’d be surprised He’s complicated, but he grows on you. Let’s head into the gym and see how they’re doing setting up the equipment for Saturday”
“Why’d the boy call you Mermaid?” Luke asked as they walked.
“Because of my name.” At his blank expression, she added, “The Little Mermaid?” Still no response. “The Disney movie?”
“Guess I’ve been out of touch,” he said.
“Don’t you ever get teased, Luke Skywalker?”
“Not more than once. My parents certainly didn’t choose my name knowing it’d be some famous character. I’m guessin’ yours didn’t pick your name because of a fictional mermaid.”
“My parents didn’t choose the name at all. Oh, there’s Sam and Marguerite They beat us here”
Luke stopped her from moving all the way into the cavernous gymnasium. “Hold on, there. What do you mean your parents didn’t choose your name?”
“It doesn’t matter”
It mattered Something flashed in her eyes before she turned and walked away, although her tone of voice hadn’t conveyed it. Something she could control by pretending it wasn’t of consequence.
He watched her hug Sam and Marguerite, a gesture as natural as breathing, he realized. Which meant that when she’d hugged him last night, he’d placed too much importance on the act. Every time he thought he had her figured out, his assumptions got turned upside down.
The hours slipped by. Luke read reports, consulted with Sam and Chase, asked questions and offered advice, although he was constantly distracted by Ariel as she helped erect the Couch Potatoes equipment. He couldn’t keep his gaze off her for longer than a few minutes at a time. She was light on her feet, musical in her laugh, spirited in her enthusiasm.
At some point she pulled her hair into a ponytail, revealing her makeup-free face, her delicate features. She was pretty, in a wholesome, natural kind of way, he decided. And she was complicated enough to be interesting. Kids loved her. Seniors loved her.
Yep. This time he’d chosen the right woman for the right reasons. Twenty-seven was a good age for marriage. She’d be ready to settle down.
“Afraid to get your hands dirty?” Ariel asked, coming up to him as he leaned on a table and stared at the floor plan for the athletic event. Chase stood beside him, his arms crossed.
Luke smiled lazily “Well, now, Ariel, we each have our callin’. Yours would seem to be in manual labor.”
“And yours would be in...?”
“Supervisin’.”
“You do it well.”
He grinned. “Thanks, darlin’.”
“I thought you’d like to know the Titan gear has arrived. Marguerite is checking the shipment against the order sheet. And I’ve got to head out to deliver some meals. I’ll swing back and pick you up around seven or so, we can grab a quick bite to eat, then I’ve got to check in at the community center about the dinner-dance.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“I suppose it’d be useless to argue with you,” she said after a moment.
“Luke Walker, as I live and breathe!”
An elegant, thirtyish woman strode across the gym, high heels in hand.
Luke swallowed. Hell. Judith Abrams, one of the two lawyers on his wife list. What was she doing here?
“Hi, Chase,” she said as she reached them “Ariel. I’m glad you’re here, too. I need to talk to you.”
Luke watched the women hug. This wasn’t good. Not good at all.
“Judith.” He offered his hand.
“I don’t rate a hug?” she asking, taking one.
Over her shoulder he saw Ariel frown slightly.
“So, what’s this I hear about you wife hunting?” Judith asked.
Luke coughed, hiding his surprise. How could she know? He didn’t dare glance Ariel’s way. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, Judith.”
“I saw Cassie interview you on the eleven-o’clock news last month. You said—”
“It was a joke.”
“What was?” Ariel asked.
Judith didn’t take her eyes off Luke He could tell she was analyzing the situation, a skill at which she excelled.
“Cassie’s a sportscaster on Channel Eight, Ariel,” Judith said. “You know how they always ask the MVP of the Super Bowl at the end of the game what he’s going to do now, and he always says he’s going to Disneyland?”
Ariel looked a little embarrassed. “I’ve never seen a Super Bowl game,” she admitted.
Judith turned to look at her then. “You’re kidding? Well, they do. Anyway, Cassie was doing a piece on Luke’s retirement. She said since he couldn’t go to Disneyland this year—You did know he was MVP last year, right?”
“Um, yeah. I heard that.”
“When Cassie asked what his plans were, he said maybe he’d find himself a little woman and settle down.”
“‘A little woman’?” Ariel repeated, looking at Luke in disbelief. “You said that? ‘A little woman’?”
“It was a joke,” he insisted, feeling sweat bead on his forehead. “Thanks, Judith. I’d been tryin’ to live that one down.”
“Hey, what are friends for? I heard you were helping out here at the Center. I think it’s great.”
“What are you doing here?” he asked, ignoring Ariel’s bewildered expression.
“I’m the attorney for the Angel Foundation.” She hefted her briefcase. “And I’ve got some papers for you, Ariel. You don’t have to sign them today, though. Just take them home and look them over.”
“Okay. Come with me while I wash my hands. I’ve got to pick up the meals and get them delivered.”
Luke watched them walk across the gym. Ariel didn’t take a straight path, of course, but one that brought her in contact with most of the people working so that she could make a comment, pat a shoulder and give a quick hug, talking with Judith the whole way. At one point she glanced back at him and grinned. He could only imagine what Judith was telling her. They’d dated now and then when she was between relationships. Nothing serious ever developed, but he liked her enough to put her on the list. Seeing the two women side by side, though...
When he realized his gaze had settled on Ariel’s hips and was lingering appreciatively, he tossed his pencil on the table and turned to Chase. “If you make that switch, you’ll have more room for the long jump. A larger sand pit will mean less chance for injury.”
“Done Thanks.” Chase glanced at the doorway the women had just strolled through.
Luke scratched his head. Ariel baffled him as much as any woman had. More, even. Comfortable in a man’s company, he spoke his thoughts aloud to Chase. “Ariel’s amazing. Tireless.”
“Yeah This place would’ve folded without her.”
“Without the Angel Foundation, anyway,” Luke said.
“Same thing.”
“Is it?”
Chase shrugged “She’s on a mission”
“Makes me wonder what she’s running from.”
An easy silence settled between the men.
“Stop by later and see the place in action when school’s out,” Chase said after a bit. “The kids know about you. Maybe you could give them a few pointers.”

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