Читать книгу Thief of My Heart - Janice Sims - Страница 11

Chapter 2

As was his habit, Decker personally went to the florist’s to choose the flowers he wanted Desiree to receive. He picked a spring bouquet because whenever he saw her, she was always turned out in the most appealingly feminine way. And it had not escaped his notice the past two years that pink was her signature color. She wore it in deep shades. She wore it in paler shades. It complemented her coppery brown skin, making it appear more beautiful than it already was. He thought about all this as he was running the wilderness trail he frequented on weekends. It was only a short drive from his neighborhood, the wooded surroundings were calming and the air out here reminded him of the mountains, which he loved.

He glanced down at his watch. It was almost noon. He was nearing the end of his run, and he could see the secluded parking area up ahead where he’d left the SUV. There were more cars there now than when he’d gotten here. He slowed his pace until he was walking, which allowed his heart rate to return to normal before it would be time to get into his car and drive home. As he walked to the SUV, he wondered what Desiree had thought when she read the card. Would she think he was giving her an ultimatum? If so, that hadn’t been his goal. He had just wanted her to know he cared for her, but he also knew when to throw in the towel. Now the ball was in her court.

Stoicism aside, though, he truly hoped she would call him, as he’d requested. If only his appeal had gotten through to her.

* * *

When Desiree got home from the park, there was a beautiful bouquet of spring flowers on the foyer table. She paused only a moment to appreciate their beauty.

She didn’t linger over them because she knew who they were from: Decker. She had nothing against Decker, but Noel’s infidelity was still too fresh in her mind for her to take any pleasure from them, or the sweet sentiments he invariably included in his notes. She resolved to ignore Decker Riley. Refused to even read the note. Then she headed to the kitchen for a bottle of water. Mrs. Neale, her housekeeper, had left a message for her on the dry-erase board on the wall next to the fridge. “Accepted flower delivery for you. Have you got a new beau?”

Desiree laughed at Mrs. Neale’s comment. Honestly, why was everybody so eager to see her with a man? First her sisters, now Mrs. Neale. She was perfectly fine by herself. All she needed was to stay so busy with work and physical activities that she wouldn’t have time to obsess about Noel, or dream about Decker’s sexy gray eyes.

She was looking forward to her karate work-out with John next week. That usually helped to calm her and focus her thoughts.

* * *

“I’m older than you, so go easy on me,” John Tanaka complained as Desiree’s foot came a bit too close to his head while they were practicing karate in his basement. The room had been transformed into a large space for exercising. Atop the wooden floor was a thick rubber mat, and it was on this surface that they were going through their paces, each of them barefoot and attired in a gi, the lightweight two-piece garment common to martial arts, with black belts tied around their waists.

They faced each other again, in fighting stances, bouncing on the balls of their feet, each trying to figure out the other’s weaknesses. In the past hour they’d worked up quite a sweat.

“Sorry,” Desiree said, not breaking her concentration. John was not only her sensei; he was her therapist. They’d met three years ago at a psychology conference, and in the course of their conversation, they’d learned they were both into karate. John had learned the discipline from his father and practiced the Japanese style of the martial arts. Desiree had wanted to learn from him, so she suggested they try a practice session. Once they got on the mat, they knew they were compatible. It was John who suggested they give each other free psychological sessions while they worked out, killing two birds with one stone. So while they worked out their physical bodies, they also worked out their emotional problems.

“What angers you more?” John asked as he circled her. “That he cheated on you, or that you were oblivious to it?”

“What angers me is that I trusted him implicitly,” Desiree said. She watched him closely because John had catlike reflexes honed from years of karate. He was fifteen years her senior and had been brought up in the discipline, whereas she’d only been a student since she was seven. It was difficult to focus on what he might do next and talk about the recent revelations concerning Noel that had left her so shaken. “Then, too, I’m pissed off because I wasted ten years mourning a man who obviously didn’t love me as much as he said he did. On top of that, he’s been dead for nearly a decade, and he still came out of this better than I did. He has a wonderful son, John. The boy seemed so sweet. He’s respectful and adores his grandmother. And what do I have? I’m still single, and I have no prospects whatsoever!”

John laughed derisively. For a moment, Desiree’s feelings were hurt that he would ridicule her like this when she was pouring her heart out to him. But one look into his sly eyes, and she knew that he was just trying to get a rise out of her. He wanted her to fight for her life, not complain about it.

“Get real,” John said. “I have no sympathy for a woman with a successful practice, family and friends who love her, who’s stunning and has men tripping over themselves trying to get next to her, men whom she ignores because she’s too scared to take another chance on love!” Then he cracked his neck, as he had a habit of doing when he was getting ready to strike like an angry viper. One day she would tell him that she had learned his many tells, but not today. She yelled, moved forward and flipped him, sending him sprawling onto his back on the thick exercise mat.

John landed hard. After he’d caught his breath, he looked up at her. “Are you done working off your anger yet? I’m going to be black-and-blue in the morning.”

Desiree laughed and offered him a hand. John accepted it and got to his feet. He was around her height, five-eight, but he outweighed her by thirty pounds. Desiree often thought he looked like Keanu Reeves, with his dark, longish hair, now sprinkled with silver, dark brown eyes and olive skin.

He looked into her eyes now, his own lit with humor. “At the risk of more bruises, I’m going to say something to you, Desi.”

Desiree smiled. “Your observations are always appreciated, Sensei.” She bowed respectfully.

“Call the hot lawyer who’s been pursuing you. Have a torrid affair. You’ve got ten years of pent-up sexual energy that needs to be expended.”

Desiree grinned. “Is that your professional advice?”

John smiled. “No, it’s the advice of a dear friend.”

They began walking to the back of the room, where Desiree had left her belongings on a bench. “Maybe I will. He sent me a beautiful bouquet of spring flowers last Saturday.”

John’s eyebrows arched with curiosity. “Did you send them back?”

“No, I kept them.” Desiree suddenly realized that she had neglected to phone Decker and thank him for the flowers. Not only that, but she hadn’t read his card yet, which was still somewhere in the bottom of her shoulder bag.

“Oh, my God, I feel terrible. I didn’t even call to thank him for the flowers. I’ve never forgotten to thank him before. It slipped my mind!” She quickly grabbed her shoulder bag and a fresh towel she’d brought with her from the bench. “I’ve gotta go. Thanks for the workout, Sensei! Give my best to Evan.” She bent and slipped on her sneakers, quickly tying the laces.

John’s eyes softened at the thought of his longtime partner. “Can I tell him you’re going to call the hot lawyer?”

“Yeah,” Desiree said as she ran up the basement stairs. “But tell him not to get his hopes up because the hot lawyer might not even accept my call after I waited a week to thank him for the flowers.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” John said confidently.