Tall, Dark And Irresistible

He couldn’t just erase from his mind what had happened and go about his business. He had to make amends to Carolyn, not only to ease his conscience but because…well, because he was attracted to Carolyn and hoped the lack of a ring on her finger meant she was single and not involved with anyone.

Carolyn St. John, Ryan thought, continuing his trek, was a very intriguing woman. Her slender, small-boned stature gave the initial impression that this was a woman who needed protecting from harm’s way, should be taken care of, because she was…delicate.

But, oh, man, there was far more to Carolyn than the first glimpse would indicate. There was a depth to her, layers that beckoned to be discovered, one by one.

She was passionate, there was no other word for it—about her career, about the families she formed by uniting orphans from overseas with people who had empty arms and were aching to have a child to love and cherish.

She had a temper…oh, brother, did she ever…when an emotional button of importance to her was pushed by an idiot like himself who dared do such a stupid thing.

She was stubborn. He’d done everything he could think of at the time to set things right, mend fences, make amends for his crummy behavior, but she wasn’t having any of it, no way. She’d lifted that pert little chin of hers, nailed him in place with those expressive, dynamite blue eyes of hers and refused to go to lunch with him. She had said no in such a way that he’d known he had better hit the road while he still could.

“Oh, yeah, she’s really something,” Ryan said, slouching back onto his chair. “But, Carolyn, my sweet? I may have lost that battle, but this war isn’t over yet. Not by a long shot.”

With a weary sigh Carolyn entered her bedroom, eager to slip into bed and end this day that had seemed to be a week long.

That darn Ryan Sharpe, she thought, as she removed her dress, had taken up residency in her brain. Why was she wasting mental energy on a man she didn’t even like? He was rude and opinionated. He’d dumped emotional baggage on her about his heritage and practically condemned what she was devoted to, heart and soul and mind.

Clad in her slip, Carolyn crossed the room, plunked her elbows on the top of the dresser and scrutinized her reflection in the mirror with a critical eye.

What, she wondered, had Ryan Sharpe seen as a man looking at a woman for the first time? Well, she’d been told over the years that she was pretty, and she was, she supposed. Not gorgeous, nor stunning, and definitely not voluptuous, just sort of wholesome, picture-on-a-box-of-corn-flakes pretty.

Ryan was the type of man who could have his pick of gorgeous, stunning and voluptuous women. He no doubt drew women like bees to honey.

A chill swept through Carolyn as Ryan’s scathing words echoed in her mind.

“Stop it,” Carolyn said aloud, realizing she was close to tears. She wrapped her hands around her elbows and drew a steadying breath. “Oh, yes, Ryan Sharpe, I know all about being different, not fitting in. Being different, different, different.”

With a wobbly sigh that held the echo of tears, and with hands that trembled slightly, Carolyn reached up and removed her double hearing aids.

Three days later in the middle of the morning, Carolyn rolled her eyes heavenward and frowned as a young woman entered Carolyn’s office carrying a bouquet of flowers in a pearly blue vase.

“Oh, no, Janice,” Carolyn said, leaning back in her chair and covering her eyes. “Not again.”

“Peekaboo, these are for you,” Janice said merrily. “Again. This is the third bouquet in as many days, Carolyn. Everyone in the office is just buzzing with curiosity as to who your new suitor is.” She set the vase on Carolyn’s desk. “Whisper his name to me. I swear I won’t tell more than ten people who he is.”

Carolyn laughed. “Oh, really? That’s an offer I can barely refuse, but I’ll force myself to pass.”

“Well, darn it,” Janice said, then removed the small white envelope from the plastic holder and waved it in the air. “How much is this worth to you without my peeking first?”

“Your life.” Carolyn extended one hand and wiggled her fingers. “Give.”

“Shoot,” Janice said, then dropped the envelope into Carolyn’s palm. “The romance of the century is taking place here and we only know the identity of one half of the dewy-eyed couple. You.”

“I am not half of a dewy-eyed couple, for Pete’s sake. Goodbye.”

As soon as Janice left, Carolyn dropped the envelope onto the top of her desk and stared at it as she toyed with the idea of just tearing it in two and throwing it in the trash. She knew exactly what would be written on the card, as it would no doubt be the same words as the previous two cards that had arrived with the gorgeous flowers.

Carolyn, she mentally recited, I’m sorry. Please forgive me and agree to have lunch with me. Ryan.

“Oh, he’s driving me over the edge,” Carolyn said, snatching up the envelope and taking out the card. “Yep, there it is. ‘Carolyn, I’m sorry. Please forgive me and agree to have lunch with me. Ryan.’ Well, I’ve had enough of this, thank you very much.”

She removed the telephone book from the bottom drawer of her desk, plunked it on the desk and began to flip through the pages with more force than was necessary. When she found the number she wanted, she punched them on the telephone and heard the ringing on the other end of the line.

“MacAllister Architects,” a woman said cheerfully. “May I help you?”

“Ryan Sharpe, please,” Carolyn said, drumming the fingers of one hand on the top of the desk.

“One moment, please, and I’ll connect you.”

“A thousand one, a thousand two,” Carolyn muttered, “a thousand—”

“Ryan Sharpe.”

Oh, my, Carolyn thought. She didn’t remember Ryan’s voice being quite that deep, quite that rumbly, quite that…male and…

“Hello?”

“Yes,” Carolyn said, much too loudly. “I mean, Ryan? This is Carolyn St. John. You have got to stop sending flowers to me. I mean, they’re really lovely and it smells heavenly in here, but my office is starting to look like a garden or a funeral parlor.

“Not only that but the staff is having a field day trying to figure out who my romantic— That is, who is sending them and… It’s very disruptive to our routine. So just stop it.”

“Okay,” Ryan said.

Carolyn frowned. “That’s it? Okay? No pleading your case? Nothing?”

“Nope. I’ll stop sending the flowers as soon as you agree to have lunch with me.”

“That’s blackmail, Ryan Sharpe,” Carolyn said, smacking the desktop with the palm of her hand.

“Whatever works. Lunch? Today? I’ll come by your office and pick you up.”

“Don’t you dare,” Carolyn said, stiffening in her chair. “Everyone here will go bonkers if they can put a face with the flowers. No, no, no.”

“Then I’ll meet you wherever you say. Noon.” Ryan paused. “There’s a deli around the corner from your building that makes great subs, if you’re open to suggestions.”

No, not that deli, Carolyn thought. She’d gone there once, and the popular restaurant was so crowded and noisy that her hearing aids had shrilled painfully in her ears.

Oh, drat, she didn’t want to have lunch with Ryan. She didn’t want to even see the man again. The continuous stream of beautiful flowers had caused him to take front row center in her mind and follow her into her dreams at night. He was driving her crazy.

Well, there was only one way to end his ridiculous performance. Suffer through one lunch with him and that would be that. Fine. No, it wasn’t, but what choice did she have?

“Carolyn?”

“Yes, all right,” she said, sighing. “But not the deli. There’s a small restaurant that’s fashioned after an English pub in the next block. I can’t remember the name of it but…”

“I know the place. Nice choice. It’s very cozy, rather…intimate, shall we say. I’ll see you there at noon sharp.’ Bye.”

“Goodbye,” Carolyn said, then her shoulders slumped with defeat as she replaced the receiver.

At exactly one minute before noon, Carolyn stood outside the intricately carved wooden door of the quaint little restaurant, and mentally pleaded with the butterflies to stop their frenzied flight in her stomach.

She wished she’d worn something more flattering today, she thought suddenly. Her gray suit with the pink blouse was very professional, she supposed, but she’d had it for several years, and the cut of the jacket was out of style and borderline frumpy.

Oh, for Pete’s sake, what difference did it make? This wasn’t a lunch date where she was attempting to impress. She’d been blackmailed into this meeting, a fact she was still angry about.

So why was she so shaken up about seeing Ryan Sharpe again? Oh, forget it. There was no point in asking herself a question she didn’t know the answer to.

“Get a grip,” she ordered herself, then squared her shoulders, lifted her chin and entered the restaurant.

She stopped immediately to allow her eyes to adjust from the bright sunlight to the rather dim, rosy glow created by candles burning on each of the small, cloth-covered tables. A smiling man in a suit and tie suddenly appeared before her.

“Ms. St. John?” he said, complete with a crisp, British accent.

“Yes, but how did you know that I’m…”

“Your gentleman told me that a lovely woman with dark hair, and eyes the color of a summer sky would be joining him,” the man said. “You most definitely fit that description, madam.”

“I do?” Carolyn smiled. “Well, fancy that.” She frowned in the next instant. “What I mean is, yes, I’m Ms. St. John and I’m rather pressed for time, so if Mr. Sharpe has already arrived would you be so kind as to show me to his table…sir?”

“Of course. If you’ll follow me, please?”

Forget it, buster, Carolyn thought. The butterflies had now doubled in number, her knees were trembling and… She did not want to be here. She did not want to see Ryan Sharpe again. She did not want…

“Madam?” the man said, from several feet away.

“Oh. Yes,” Carolyn said, starting forward. “Certainly.”

As Carolyn followed the ever-so-proper man, she saw Ryan seated at a table in the distance. Her heart quickened as he smiled and got to his feet.

How strange, Carolyn thought rather dreamily. The butterflies had zoomed out of her stomach and fluttered down to create a magic carpet that was floating her toward Ryan, because she surely wasn’t doing anything so mundane as putting one foot in front of the other. Oh, no, not when Ryan was smiling that smile and gazing at her with those mesmerizing obsidian eyes of his.

“Hello, Carolyn,” Ryan said quietly, when she reached the table.

Hello, who? she thought foggily, then blinked.

“Yes. Well, hello, Ryan,” she said, tearing her gaze from his.

The man assisted her with her chair and she sank onto it gratefully, her trembling legs threatening to give way beneath her. She spread her napkin on her lap, smoothed it, then straightened the corners into a perfect square.

“I’m very glad to see you again,” Ryan said. “Thank you for coming, for having lunch with me.”

He was more than glad to see her, he thought. As he’d watched her come closer and closer to him he’d been consumed by a strange sense of…rightness, of her being where she belonged…with him. A warmth had crept around his heart, then, an instant later, coiled and churned low in his body as desire flared into flames of heat.

His intense reaction to Carolyn was unexpected, but here it was, and for reasons he couldn’t begin to fathom he welcomed it, embraced it, owned it willingly.

Carolyn slowly raised her head, looked directly at Ryan, ignored the pitter-patter of her heart and prayed to the heavens that she didn’t have a dopey, dreamy expression on her face.

“Let’s order our lunch, shall we?” she said. Oh, good grief, was that her voice, that I-can-hardly-breathe-when-I’m-this-close-to-you sound? “My desk is stacked with work. Said desk that will no longer hold flower vases because I’m here as agreed.”

“You’re dusting me off.” Ryan frowned. “Won’t you accept my apology for my earlier behavior? Give me another chance?”

Carolyn sighed. “So you can get on your soap-box? Ryan, you believe that bringing Asian children here is basically wrong because they don’t resemble their adoptive families or their peers. You feel that what I do, what I’m devoted to doing is right…only to a point. I don’t want to hear all that again.”

“I’m very sorry about what I said that day. Please, Carolyn, believe that. I’m extremely grateful for my loving family and the advantages I’ve had.

“Yes, I had some problems, but that’s no excuse for saying what I did to you, and I know that. Let’s start all over again. Okay? Have dinner with me tomorrow night? It will be Friday, the beginning of the weekend, a new beginning for us that can erase what happened in your office the other day. Please?”

Nope, Carolyn thought, deciding that her napkin needed attention again. She was not going out to dinner with Ryan. No way.

Then again… It had been months since she’d been on a date. Months. Ryan was charming, intelligent, so handsome it was ridiculous, and he had apologized about a gazillion times for the crummy, negative things he’d said that first day and…

It would be a nice change to go out on a Friday night, instead of spending another one curled up with a good book. Not that she didn’t like to read good books, but… Was she mentally babbling? Yes, she was, no doubt about it, due to the fact that Ryan Sharpe had the capability of throwing her off-kilter. But as long as she was aware of that fact, she could stay one step ahead of it, or ignore it, or whatever and…

“All right,” she said, looking at Ryan again. “I’ll have dinner with you tomorrow night, Ryan.”

“You will?” Ryan said, an incredulous tone to his voice.

“Yes.”

“Great. Fantastic. Seven o’clock? I’ll need your address, too. For the record, I want you to know that I was fully prepared to resume my flower crusade to get you to agree to dinner.”

“Oh, spare me.” Carolyn laughed. “The flowers were lovely, really beautiful, but the whole staff at the agency was hovering around, trying to get me to divulge who my admirer was.” Her smile faded. “I really don’t care for being the center of attention like that. It makes me uncomfortable.”

“Uh-oh. Do I owe you another apology for sending all those flowers.”

“No,” she said, smiling at him warmly. “I’ve never had flowers delivered to me before. Not once in my life. They really were beautiful and…well, thank you.”

“You’ve never received a bouquet of flowers from a man?” Ryan frowned.

“Are you folks ready to order?” a waitress said, appearing at the table.

“Yes,” Carolyn said quickly.

Bless you, sweet lady, she thought. She didn’t want to go further down this conversational path of poor little Carolyn St. John, who had never been the recipient of a bouquet of flowers from a man who had centered his thoughts on her.

“What would you like to eat?” Ryan said.

“I have no idea,” Carolyn said, laughing, as she snatched the menu from the top of the table. “I’ll only take a second to decide, though. I really do have so much work to tend to this afternoon.”

“Fair enough.” Ryan opened his own menu. “We can make this a quick lunch and follow it by a leisurely, unhurried dinner tomorrow night.”

Yes, that was true, wasn’t it? Carolyn thought, scanning the selection on the menu. And it sounded very, very nice.

Chapter Three

Carolyn hummed a peppy tune as she turned one way, then the other in front of the mirror hanging on the inside of her closet door.

Excellent, she thought. The dusty-rose, lightweight wool dress she’d purchased during her lunch hour seemed even more lovely now than it had in the store.

The long sleeves closed at her wrists with three small pearl buttons, and three matching buttons formed a delicate line down from the round collarless neckline. It was simple, but she hoped rather classy.

Her strappy, two-inch-heel evening sandals and small clutch purse were just the right finishing touch. Her hair was freshly shampooed, her makeup applied with exacting care and she’d added a dab of floral cologne.

She was ready.

To see Ryan.

To spend the next handful of hours with an incredibly handsome man, who had not been far from her thoughts the entire day as she anticipated their evening together.

Carolyn closed the closet door, then stared into space with a slight frown.

She was behaving ridiculously, she thought. Good grief, she’d skipped lunch so she could go shopping for a new dress, had rushed home to shower and shampoo her hair, had spent a silly amount of time getting her makeup just the way she wanted it and…

Carolyn smiled. “And I’m glad I did.”

She snatched up the clutch purse from the bed, left the bedroom and went down the short hall to the living room where she set the purse on an end table.

She could tell herself, she supposed, that she’d gone to all this fuss and bother because this was her first date in many months and she deserved to go a bit overboard.

But that wouldn’t be true.

She was giddy and acting rather out of character because she was going out with Ryan Sharpe. There. That was the truth. She should probably be unsettled by that realization, but she refused to do anything to dim her euphoric mood.

She was definitely not going to listen to the nagging little voice in her mind that kept whispering the fact that she was not convinced, despite Ryan’s apologies, that he approved of her life’s work. It was there, that doubt, hovering in the shadows and…

Oh, Carolyn, stop it. This date wasn’t the beginning of anything of importance. It was just a night on the town with a dynamic man. She wasn’t going to analyze her behavior or Ryan’s attitudes to death, she was simply going to enjoy herself, feel pretty, special and feminine for a number of hours and that would be that.

“Go for it, Carolyn,” she said merrily, then spun around as a knock sounded at the door. “There he is. Right on time.”

Carolyn hurried to the door, opened it and made no attempt to curb her smile as she drank in the sight of Ryan Sharpe.

Yes, indeed, she thought, he was gorgeous. Dark-gray suit, black shirt, gray tie with a thin burgundy stripe and a burgundy handkerchief peeking above the edge of the pocket of his jacket. He looked as if he’d just stepped off the pages of a men’s fashion magazine and he was here to collect her for a dinner date.

This was stuff of which fantasies were made, and she intended to enjoy every moment of the night ahead.

“Hello, Ryan,” she said, stepping back. “Please come in.”

He would, Ryan thought dryly, if he could remember what it took to walk, breathe, perform like a normal human being. His heart was thudding so fast in his chest he was probably having a heart attack and would pass out cold at this beautiful woman’s feet.

She was exquisite.

He wanted to memorize every detail of her, then—oh, yeah—then pull her into his arms and kiss her until they were both weak with desire, need and…

“Ryan?”

“Hmm?” he said absently, then shook his head slightly. “Oh, yes.” He entered the apartment, then turned to face Carolyn as she closed the door and met his gaze. “You look so lovely, so pretty in that dress that I wish I could think of better words than lovely and pretty.”

“Well, thank you,” she said, a flush warming her cheeks. “You’re rather dashing yourself.”

“I’ve been looking forward to our dinner date all day,” Ryan went on.

“Really? Well, since you’re being so forthcoming, I’ll admit that I’ve had a sense of anticipation about it myself.”

“Good, that’s good.” Ryan laughed. “I would have brought you flowers, but I thought I’d better cool it in that department for a while. I wouldn’t want to trigger that temper of yours, Ms. St. John.”

“Heaven forbid, Mr. Sharpe,” she said, laughing with him.

“Shall we go? I made reservations.” Ryan glanced around the medium-size living room and nodded. “I like your place. It’s homey, warm and welcoming. This must be nice to come home to at the end of a busy day.”

“Yes. Yes, it is.” Carolyn cocked her head slightly to one side as she studied Ryan. “Isn’t your home warm and welcoming?”

“Not really.” He frowned. “I’ve never taken the time to do much more than buy and borrow the bare essentials of furniture with none of the touches that make four square walls into a home. But that’s going to change. I’ve decided that this is the year I draw up the plans for a house, have it built and get out of that drab, boring apartment.”

“How exciting. Was that your New Year’s resolution?”

“One of them. We really should be on our way.”

“You made more than one New Year’s resolution?” Carolyn said as they left the apartment. “I forgot to make any, which is just as well because I either forget what they were or realize halfway through the year that I wasn’t doing what I said I would. What else was on your list?”

“Oh, just this and that,” Ryan said, as they left the building. “Are you hungry? The restaurant I picked has great food.”

“I’m starved.”

As Ryan assisted her into his vehicle, Carolyn’s mind drifted back to the conversation they’d just shared about Ryan’s New Year’s resolutions. When she’d pressed him, he skittered away from the subject, had actually averted his eyes from hers at that moment.

Was that strange? she wondered. Oh, forget it. She wasn’t going to clutter her mind with unimportant questions. She seriously doubted that Cinderella used mental energy pondering over mundane details while she was on measured time with the prince.

No, Cinderella had savored feeling special and beautiful and devoted her entire attention to the prince until it was time to end the evening. And that was exactly what she was going to do.

“Tell me about this house you’re going to design for yourself,” Carolyn said, as Ryan drove expertly through the busy traffic.

“I don’t have anything etched in stone in my mind. I just know I want lots of space, big rooms with plenty of windows to allow the sun to come in from all directions.”

“Have you considered a fireplace? When we get some of those winter rains, it’s damp and chilly. Wouldn’t a fireplace with warm, crackling flames be heavenly?”

“Sold,” Ryan said, glancing over at her with a smile, then redirecting his attention to the traffic. “Add one fireplace. A flagstone fireplace, I think, banked by oak bookshelves that go all the way to the ceiling.”

“Perfect. Oh, this is fun. I can certainly understand why you chose to become an architect. You make people’s dreams for their special home come true. And this time, you’re fulfilling your own dreams.”

“Mmm,” Ryan said.

Not really, sweet Carolyn, he thought. The home he’d dreamed about for many years would have the sound of happy children’s laughter and the lilting voice of the woman he had married and pledged his love to for all time. But that was a forgotten dream.

During the hectic Christmas holidays, he’d managed to get in touch with himself and make some resolutions. As a step toward achieving some inner peace in regard to his heritage, he’d decided to remain single. He would date when he was attracted to someone. But he’d decided to watch and listen for any clues that might reveal that while a woman might enjoy his company, she certainly wouldn’t want to marry and have mixed-heritage children with him.

Ah, hell, Sharpe, he admonished himself. Don’t go there. Don’t do anything to mar this evening with Carolyn. Just don’t.

“A garden tub,” Carolyn said, pulling him back to the subject at hand. “You know, one of those enormous, raised bathtubs that are big enough for two people and…”

Her voice trailed off as sudden images of her and Ryan in a garden tub filled with warm water flitted through her mental vision. They were naked…of course. And there were fragrant bubbles across the top of the water like frosting on a cake. Champagne. Oh, that was a nice touch. They were sipping champagne from wafer-thin tulip glasses as they sat close together, gazing into each other’s eyes and…