Читать книгу Thief of My Heart - Janice Sims - Страница 12

Chapter 4

Decker was having a good week. With the aid of a crack private investigation team that worked for his firm, he’d successfully represented a construction company owner accused of killing his business rival. The investigators had uncovered evidence the police had overlooked, proving that Decker’s client had been set up by the wife of his rival who sought not only to get rid of her husband and collect the insurance money, but to let someone else take the blame for her crime.

It was with much satisfaction, on Friday afternoon, that Decker heard the judge proclaim, “Case dismissed!”

Decker turned to his client and shook his hand. The poor man appeared almost faint with relief. He enthusiastically pumped Decker’s hand. “I can’t thank you enough!” he cried, with tears of happiness in his eyes.

“My pleasure,” Decker assured him. “Now go hug your wife.”

His wife was waiting just behind them. Decker picked up his briefcase and he and his paralegal, Mike Lofton, left the courtroom. On the way down the courthouse steps, his cell phone rang. It was his administrative assistant, Kym Johnson. “Sir, I’ve got mayoral candidate Todd Pratt on the other line. He’s been arrested on corruption charges. He wants you to represent him.”

“Not another corrupt politician,” Decker complained. Last year he’d represented a former state senator accused of accepting bribes. Turned out the senator had lied through his teeth when he said he was innocent, and all it took was a good attorney to convince the jury of it. Well, Decker had fought valiantly while evidence of the senator’s guilt had piled up. The senator had gone to prison. After that Decker vowed to stay clear of politicians. “Tell him he’ll have to get himself another lawyer,” Decker told Kym.

“Whatever you say, sir,” said Kym.

Decker put his phone away and turned to Mike, an eager young man who was working as a paralegal while he studied for his law degree. “You know what, Mike,” Decker said, looking up at the clear blue, late March sky, “why don’t you take the rest of the day off? I think I’ll head home.”

Mike beamed. “Why, thank you, sir.”

“Go have fun,” Decker said. He was feeling magnanimous. An innocent man was free to go home with his loving wife. It was a beautiful spring day. Best of all, he was going to be seeing Desiree in a matter of hours.

He and Mike said their goodbyes and parted, going in opposite directions. Decker walked swiftly to the parking garage across the street. He couldn’t wait to see Desiree.

They’d spoken over the phone a couple of times this past week but had not seen each other. When they were on the phone he’d ask her how she was doing, wanting her to open up to him and tell him what sort of traumatic experience she’d recently gone through. But he could tell from her tone that she’d wanted to keep things light between them. He’d then asked her about work, which she said she couldn’t talk about much because of doctor/patient confidentiality. She would make vague references to her clients like how she felt close to a breakthrough with one patient, or she felt she wasn’t getting anywhere with another one, but never any mention of a specific mental illness.

As a lawyer, he understood the need to keep privileged information under wraps. He simply wanted her to share her life with him.

He tossed negative thoughts aside as he climbed into the SUV, drove out of the parking garage and headed home. He had a great night planned for them. He was taking her to his favorite Italian restaurant in downtown Raleigh. They served Tuscan-inspired Italian cuisine. The atmosphere was relaxed, just the sort of place he and Desiree could sit and talk, laugh a little, get to know each other better. Then they’d go to a little jazz club he knew where they could have a drink and dance the night away. It was Friday; they could stay out late. He would like nothing better than to see the sun rise with Desiree tomorrow morning. But he would take his cues from her. Whatever the lady wanted would be his pleasure to give her.

* * *

Desiree’s doorbell rang at six that evening. She had been home only about thirty minutes and was preparing to take a long soak in the tub. She walked through her Mediterranean-style home, attired in a bathrobe, and looked through the peephole.

Her sisters stood on the portico, waving enthusiastically. She swung the door open, one hand on her hip. “What are you two doing here?”

Shaking her head in mock consternation as she strode inside, Lauren said to Meghan, “She hasn’t had a date since God created the world, and she’s asking what we’re doing here.”

“We’re here to help you prepare for your date,” Meghan said, holding up a bottle of champagne. “And to get you slightly drunk, so you’ll relax and have a good time with Decker tonight.”

Lauren closed and locked the door, and she and Meghan followed Desiree upstairs to her master bedroom, where she immediately began pulling clothes from Desiree’s closet and placing them on the bed while Meghan popped the cork on the champagne. Meghan ran to the sink in the adjacent bathroom and let the residual foam spill from the bottle’s mouth into the sink. Then she drank some of the delicious bubbly directly from the bottle.

“What, are you uncivilized?” Desiree cried. “Go downstairs and get some glasses, baby sister!”

Meghan laughed. “No, tonight you’re going to drink from the bottle, choose something sexy to wear, something that’ll make Decker’s eyes pop out of his head, and you’re going to stay out late and scandalize nosy Mrs. Brown next door when you drag yourself home just before sunrise.” She shoved the bottle at Desiree. “Here, drink!”

Desiree took the champagne and drank a little. It was cold and dry, just the way she liked it. But the last thing she wanted to do was get a little intoxicated before going out with Decker.

Drinking made her lose her inhibitions. She needed her inhibitions with Decker because they were the only things that would help her maintain a sense of decorum around him tonight. All week she’d found herself daydreaming about him. She hadn’t seen him in a while, not since the last family get-together at Colton and Lauren’s house about three months ago. And she had no photographs with him in them. So she had to rely on memory to recall how devastatingly handsome he was. Because of this, each time she found herself face-to-face with him, she was stunned by how bad her memory was. He was always much more appealing in the flesh than in her imagination. The man was endowed with a powerful presence. She couldn’t deny that. So staying sober seemed like a good idea right now. She dutifully handed the bottle back to Meghan and announced, “I’m going to take a bath.”

“You do that,” said Meghan, turning toward the walk-in closet where Lauren was riffling through Desiree’s clothes.

Desiree got into the tub of warm, fragrant water, relaxed with her head against an inflated pillow and closed her eyes. She hoped her sisters would give her a few minutes of alone time, but that hope was instantly dashed when Lauren called from the closet, “Didn’t Decker say tonight was casual? Do you own any jeans at all?”

Desiree sighed. “Not the jeans talk again. You know I don’t wear jeans. I’m not a jeans girl. I wear slacks sometimes, but I don’t like jeans.”

“Are you human?” Meghan joked. “Who doesn’t like jeans?”

“Have you ever tried to kick someone while wearing tight jeans?” Desiree asked. “You can’t do it.”

Lauren laughed. “So you don’t wear jeans just in case you’re attacked and you have to defend yourself? That’s ridiculous. In that case, you don’t wear long, tight skirts, either.”

“I don’t,” Desiree confirmed.

“You still wear your Louboutin shoes,” Lauren said realistically. “Those aren’t exactly made for fighting.”

“You can kick those off,” Desiree said languidly. “Now, would you please let me pretend I’m alone at an exclusive spa with no one around except the towel boy waiting with a warm towel for me when I get out of the tub?”

“Who does the towel boy look like in your fantasy?” Meghan asked, laughing. “In mine he looks like Idris Elba.”

Before Desiree could reply, Lauren said, “Why not Leo?”

Meghan took a swig of champagne. “Honestly, that man is driving me to drink. I know he wants me. He looks at me like he could devour me. Yet he’s got it in that thick head of his that he’s too old for me, so he says we should just be friends. That’s why I’m replacing him in my fantasies with Idris.”

“You never know what’s going to happen,” Desiree said to Meghan. “I never dreamed I’d be going out with Decker, either, but here I am, preparing myself to be sniffed, possibly touched and generally, hopefully, adored by him.”

“Oh, you don’t have to hope too hard,” Lauren informed her with a laugh. “That boy already adores you. I’m just hoping the fire that ignites between you two tonight doesn’t burn down Raleigh.”

Desiree laughed at that. “I’ve admittedly gone through a very long drought, but there will be no fire tonight. There may be some smoldering embers ignited, but no fire.”

“Wait and see,” Lauren said as if she knew what she was talking about. “You’ve never been alone with a Riley man before. There’s something very sexy about those gray eyes of theirs, to say nothing of those tall, hard bodies. When God created them, he should have patted himself on the back for a job well done.”

“I’ve resisted him for nearly two years,” Desiree reminded her as she laid her head back on the pillow.

“No,” Meghan said. “You didn’t resist him, you avoided him. There’s a difference. You never let yourself be in an intimate setting with him. You never allowed yourself to be vulnerable around him. There’s a difference, as you’ll find out tonight.”

Lauren looked at Meghan with admiration. “For the youngest of the bunch, you’re pretty smart.”

“Thanks, sis,” Meghan said.

Desiree sighed. “Will you two hens let me bathe in peace?”

Instead they joined her in the bathroom, where Lauren sat down on the lowered toilet seat and Meghan perched her bottom on the dirty clothes hamper.

“Should we go over what to talk about tonight, and what not to talk about?” Lauren teased Desiree. “Let’s see...” She turned to Meghan, enlisting her help. “You can tell him about your childhood, and your education. No harm in that.”

Meghan nodded in agreement. “But don’t tell him you talk in your sleep. That can wait until the relationship progresses a little.”

“And please don’t tell him you sometimes wake up singing,” Lauren advised. “That’ll freak him out.”

Desiree splashed water on her for that. “You know I have no control over that! I sing when I’m happy.”

Lauren chuckled and got a towel from the shelf to wipe the bathwater from her face. “I’m just trying to be helpful.” Her eyes sparkled with good humor. “You know we love you, and we want you to be happy. I do get a little satisfaction from the fact that we’ve been telling you all along to give him a chance.”

“Yeah,” said Meghan. “First impressions aren’t always on the money.”

“I know,” Desiree said quietly. “Unfortunately it took being disillusioned by Noel to make me realize that if I could misjudge him, I could also have misjudged Decker. But the jury’s still out on that one, okay? This is the first date.”

“Okay, then,” said Lauren, rising. “Come on, Meghan, let’s go find something in that closet of hers that says, ‘Take me.’”

They got up to leave the bathroom. Desiree laughed. “Make that something that says, ‘You can kiss me good-night, if you want.’ But there will be no ‘taking me’ tonight!”

Lauren and Meghan laughed uproariously as they left, Lauren pausing long enough to pull the bathroom door closed after her.

Desiree slid farther down in the tub. “Alone at last,” she said with a relieved sigh.

* * *

Decker arrived at five till eight. Desiree had forced her sisters to leave half an hour earlier. They had wanted to wait and see her off with Decker, a suggestion that she instantly vetoed. She had also put the low-cut dress that Lauren had picked out for her to wear tonight back in the closet, and had chosen a more modest style.

When Decker rang the bell, she ran downstairs, purse and jacket in hand, and pulled open the door. His attention was drawn to something on the street, and when she opened the door his back was to her. He turned back around, smiling, and when he saw her, his smile broadened in appreciation. “Wow,” he said softly, his eyes running the length of her in the simple deep purple sheath dress with a black leather belt and a pair of black leather high-heeled sandals.

Desiree self-consciously touched her shoulder-length wavy black hair, which she’d combed away from her heart-shaped face. “Too dressy?” she asked.

Decker shook his head. “It’s not too anything,” he breathed. “It’s perfect. You look beautiful.”

Desiree smiled her thanks. She stood a moment, taking him in. As she’d predicted, she wasn’t prepared for the effects of Decker in the flesh. The moment she opened the door and saw him standing there, his broad back to her, the first thing she’d experienced was the wonderful scent wafting off him. It was a fresh, woodsy, utterly male smell that made her momentarily weak in the knees. Then he’d turned around and faced her, and the full onslaught of a square-jawed, clean-shaven chestnut-brown face, with deep-set gray eyes that seemed so incongruous, yet so right, caused her heartbeat to accelerate.

He looked wonderful in jeans, a short-sleeve shirt in cobalt blue, a black leather jacket and black Italian loafers. “You look great, too,” she said, suddenly shy.

Smiling, Decker stepped forward and put her hand through his arm. “I hope you’re hungry because the restaurant we’re going to serves the best Italian food you’ll ever taste.”

Desiree smiled up at him and let him lead her outside. He pulled the door closed and made sure it was locked before turning back around and peering down at her. “I have to be honest with you. I’m nervous.”

Desiree laughed shortly. “Why? We’ve known each other for some time now.”

His handsome face scrunched up in a frown. “Now that I’ve got you to go out with me, I don’t know if I can live up to your expectations.”

Desiree stopped in her tracks at the end of the walk and looked up at him. “Before this night gets started, I want to put your mind at ease. I have no expectations, except to get to know you better.” She reached up and gently touched his cheek. “So just relax, okay?”

Decker grasped the hand she’d touched him with and brought it to his mouth, kissing the palm. Desiree was shocked by how turned on she was just by the meeting of his lips with her palm.

Unless she was reading him wrong, when he raised his head, his gray eyes glittered with intense longing. The look left her slightly breathless and unbalanced. She covered her weakness with an equally weak joke: “I hope you’re not taking me to a restaurant that serves tiny portions. I’m famished, and I’m not one of those women who eat like a bird.”

Decker laughed, appearing more relaxed. “I’ve been watching you eat for a while now. I know you can put it away.”

To which Desiree laughed, and took his hand. “Come on.” And they left the house.

He helped her into the car, which was parked at the curb. Once she was in, he closed the door and quickly walked around to the driver side. Inside, he buckled up while she did the same; then he turned the key in the ignition and the car purred to life. John Legend’s latest CD was in the player. He reached over and turned the volume down. “Are you a fan?” he asked as he smoothly pulled away from the curb.

Desiree sat back on the soft leather seat. “Yes, I like him, but I’m more of a blues girl.”

“Like who?” Decker prodded.

“Lots of artists, from those who come from the Mississippi Delta school when they used mostly acoustic guitars, to Chicago-style blues where the electric guitar replaced the acoustic,” she said. “I love B.B. King, John Lee Hooker, Buddy Guy, Etta James, Koko Taylor and newer blues artists like Gary Clark Jr., Robert Cray and Keb’ Mo’.”

“Funny, I wouldn’t have pegged you for a blues lover,” Decker said, smiling at her briefly before returning his attention to the road. “I figured you for a smooth jazz aficionado. Or a Justin Timberlake fan.”

Desiree laughed softly. “Goes to show you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.” She paused, looking at his profile in the dim light of the car. “That’s the same mistake I made with you,” she said.

She heard Decker’s sharp intake of breath. She had probably shocked him by saying that.

He exhaled. Clearing his throat, he looked into her eyes for a moment without saying anything. Then he continued driving for a couple more minutes before quietly saying, “It means a lot to me that you would admit that.”

“I can admit when I make a mistake,” Desiree said, keeping her tone light even though she had filled up with emotion when she’d seen just how affected Decker had been by her confession.

She figured now was as good a time as any to tell him why she’d changed her mind about going out with him. “Do you remember me telling you about Noel Alexander, the man I was engaged to?”

He let out a nervous laugh. “How can I forget? It was the night I threw Colton a bachelor party at a strip club and some fool ran him down in the parking lot, almost killing him. That image isn’t going to leave my mind anytime soon.” He breathed deeply and exhaled. “But you comforted me at the hospital later that night.”

“I could see that you were hurting,” Desiree said softly.

“For me, it was the most hopeful night and the most disappointing where you were concerned,” he said. “You were so kind to me, and then you told me why you could never be with me. You had known true love, and you wouldn’t settle for less. And there I was, drunk, smelling like a distillery, feeling guilty because my cousin was lying in a hospital bed. I knew I didn’t stand a chance with you.”