Kiss A Handsome Stranger

“I wonder how Frannie and Bill are getting along?” Phoebe mused.

Red-haired Frannie, with her brightly colored clothes and beehive hairdo, made an odd contrast to the soft-spoken building superintendent who lived in a nearby unit. The two had been edging toward each other for months and finally seemed to be hitting it off, but had parted after a jealous quarrel.

Apparently Bill had also noticed the cat noises. The large, usually jovial man, returning from one of his periodic inspections of the premises, stopped near the pool and gazed wistfully toward Frannie.

She ignored him, and after a moment Jeff Hawkin, the handyman, stuck his head out of the laundry room and requested Bill’s attention. Daisy hoped they were fixing the number three dryer, which ate quarters.

“Pale-pink might work,” Phoebe suggested, returning to their previous conversation.

“Pale pink with what?” Elise asked.

“White?” said Daisy. “No, too boring. How about three colors? Pale pink with black and white?”

“Black? At a wedding?” Elise groaned.

“Let’s go try on dresses and figure out what colors look good on us,” Phoebe said. “That way Daisy and I can buy something we might actually wear again.”

“What if chartreuse looks good on you?” grumped their friend. “Oh, good, here comes big brother. Let’s see what he thinks.”

To her horror Daisy spotted an all-too-familiar figure strolling from the lobby into the courtyard. It had been sheer coincidence that had kept her from meeting Chance before that ill-fated night of the engagement party. Why couldn’t she have the same luck now?

Frantically she gazed around for somewhere to hide. Giving up, she sucked in her breath and sank under the water.

Chapter Two

Chance smiled when he glimpsed his sister and her two friends lolling in the pool. He liked women and enjoyed their company, which was a good thing, since he had seven younger sisters.

He’d scarcely cleared the lobby, however, when a strange-looking woman, standing ankle deep in cats on her patio, regarded him sharply. Her name, he recalled from a previous visit, was Frannie.

“Be careful around those girls,” she said. “Two of them are engaged and the other one’s peculiar.”

“Peculiar?” He wondered what had provoked this unsolicited observation. On the other hand, he had to admit that Elise’s disappearing friend Daisy did seem a bit odd. In the few seconds he’d been distracted by the cat lady, the woman he guessed was Daisy had vanished again as if by magic.

He’d glimpsed her once in hair curlers and a globby green face mask, and another time, from the back, in a flimsy bathrobe. Both times she’d fled from Elise’s place to her next-door unit without acknowledging him.

“She’s an artist,” said the woman. “You never see her out painting anything, though. Peculiar, if you ask me. I’d stay clear, if I were you.”

“Thanks.” He was about to turn away when he caught Frannie’s wink. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Just wanted to see how much you’d believe!” She chuckled. “You’re Elise’s brother, aren’t you?”

“That’s right. And you really had me going.” The lady was quite a character, Chance thought in amusement.

Resuming his approach to the pool, he tried vainly to figure out how Daisy could have disappeared so quickly. “Where’s your other friend?” he called to Elise.

She pointed into the water. “Drowning.” She didn’t sound concerned, so he assumed she was kidding. “We need your advice.”

“I get paid for my advice.” Chance paused a few feet away. “Since you’re my sister, I’ll work on contingency.”

“Don’t you think yellow looks horrible on blondes?” said Phoebe. The blond woman was stunning, he noted for the umpteenth time. There’d never been any chemistry between them, though, just friendly banter.

“I refuse to incriminate myself,” he said.

“Spoken like a lawyer,” said his sister.

“And deep-rose would look simply horrible with…that. Agreed?” Phoebe indicated some reddish brown hair floating on the water, obviously attached to their pal Daisy’s head.

“I plead the fifth amendment,” Chance said. “Don’t you think she’s been under there a long time?”

“She’s a good swimmer,” said Elise. “Well, a good dog paddler, anyway.”

“She isn’t swimming, she’s floating,” he pointed out.

“We absolutely have to pick the wedding colors,” Phoebe said.

“You mean, I have to pick them!” said his sister.

“I’m getting a little concerned about your friend.” Chance didn’t want to overdramatize the situation by plunging into the pool fully clothed, but the woman’s lungs must be near bursting.

“She’s fine,” Elise said. “Her hands are moving under the water. If she’d lost consciousness, she couldn’t maintain a vertical position.”

Chase knelt at the edge of the pool. The hair bobbed upward, then lowered again. The woman was deliberately staying down there, all right, but why was she behaving so bizarrely?

Phoebe joined Chance at the side of the pool. She was focused on Daisy, looking concerned. “Is she on medication?” he asked.

“Maybe hormones. I think she has what they used to call a female condition,” said Phoebe, her face suddenly turning red. “Maybe I shouldn’t have shared that with you. It just slipped out in my worry.”

“Hormones don’t make a person act like a lunatic. At least, I don’t think so.” Chance’s own lungs were aching in sympathy. Unable to stand the suspense, he reached into the pool and grasped the woman’s shoulders, getting his jacket cuffs and watch soaked in the process.

She had smooth shoulders, he noticed distractedly. Touching her bare skin gave him a slight tingle.

When he pulled, she shot to the surface, gasping and sputtering. Waterlogged hair clung to her cheeks, and for a disconnected moment he thought he was imagining the resemblance.

But it was her. Deirdre.

Daisy, he thought in confusion. Deirdre was Daisy. But why on earth had his sister’s friend run away from him?

DAISY HADN’T MEANT to stay under the water so long. She’d gone down on an impulse and then, hearing the blurred echo of Chance’s voice, had clung to her sanctuary single-mindedly.

She was glad he’d pulled her up. And humiliated at being discovered. If she hadn’t been coughing so hard, she would have raced for the building before anyone could start asking questions, but her own frailty trapped her.

Clinging to Chance’s strong arms, she leaned against the edge of the pool and sucked in deep, agonizing lungfuls of air. Only gradually did she realize the man’s sleeves were drenched, not to mention that was obviously a very expensive watch.

Embarrassed, she eased her grip and moved away. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you all right?” His deep tones echoed through her.

She nodded, keeping her eyes averted. Her friends were studying her with varying degrees of puzzlement.

“Is it the hormones?” Elise asked. “Are you having hot flashes?”

“No, of course not!” Could this get any more awkward? Daisy wondered.

The last thing she wanted was for Chance to hear about her medical condition. A guy like him would probably be repelled by the mention of endometriosis.

In fact, a playboy like him would head for the hills if he found out how badly she wanted a child. Especially if he learned that she needed to get pregnant soon to ease her condition and help prevent future infertility.

Daisy longed to hold a baby in her arms. It scared her that already there was a chance she couldn’t conceive.

The gentle, understanding man that she dreamed of marrying would accept her without hesitation and stand by her no matter what. A man like Chance, on the other hand, was likely to wrinkle his nose and hightail it in pursuit of a woman with no imperfections attached.

Did he have to look so gorgeous, with the late-afternoon light bringing out the strength of his face and the deceptive sensitivity of his gray gaze? she wondered. It would have been hard to keep her distance, except for the fact that she could barely move.

“You wouldn’t happen to be in need of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, would you?” he teased, seeming unaware of the breeze that fluttered engagingly through his soft hair. Even the elements conspired on Chance’s behalf.

“I’m a little cold.” Getting out of the pool would feel even colder, but Daisy needed to escape the curious stares of her friends. Not to mention the ever-inquisitive Frannie Fitzgerald, who stood on her patio with hands on hips, watching them with interest.

“Which towel’s yours?” When she pointed, Chance brought it from a nearby bench.

As she climbed from the water, he wrapped it around her, his hands lingering longer than strictly necessary. Despite her better judgment, she didn’t mind.

“Honestly, we didn’t realize anything was wrong,” Phoebe said. “Should I call a doctor?”

“Nothing is wrong.” Daisy wished her teeth would stop chattering. “It’s my own stupid fault. I had this impulse to see how long I could stay underwater.”

“Why?” asked her friend.

“Because I’m an idiot,” she said.

“You look kind of blue,” Elise said. “I don’t care for that shade. We can scratch it off our list for the wedding.”

Daisy couldn’t help chuckling at her friend’s nonsense. Chance circled his arm more closely around her. He didn’t seem to notice the water dripping onto his suit and shoes.

“I repeat, we need to try on dresses before we make a decision,” said Phoebe.

“There is no ‘we’ making this decision,” Elise said. “I’m consulting you two out of the goodness of my heart.”

“Saturday,” Phoebe said. “I’m free to shop in the afternoon.”

Elise shrugged. “Okay by me.” When Daisy coughed, her friend said, “I’ll answer for her. She’s taking a few hours off to join us.”

“But I have a show opening that night.”

“That’s why you hired that assistant. Right?”

There was no denying it. “Right.”

“I’m taking Daisy inside to dry off,” Chance told them.

“I can go alone.”

“No,” he replied firmly. “You need me to look after you.”

Daisy’s heart twisted in a funny, scary, delicious way. She knew it was just Chance’s suave charm coming into play, but she wished so hard that he meant it.

“Before you go,” his sister said, “was there a reason you wanted to see me, big bro?”

“Nothing urgent. I’ll catch you later,” he said.

Daisy knew she shouldn’t let him walk her to her condo. If she did, he might come inside. And if that happened, she might not be able to resist him any more than she had two months ago.

What power did this man have over her? Sternly she reminded herself that he possessed no power that she didn’t grant him.

Yet, despite her resolve to the contrary, she let him escort her all the way to unit 2E.

AFTER SEEING SO MANY devastated marriages, Chance had set very high standards for the woman he would someday wed, and, since college, no one had come close to meeting them. Certainly he was better off not getting involved with someone as unpredictable as Deirdre.

Yet his feelings refused to yield to logic. Her mercurial quality made her all the more fascinating, and the way she nestled within the circle of his arm inspired a longing to protect her.

From his greater height, he studied Daisy’s well-defined nose and thick lashes. Were her eyes really as green as he remembered? When she opened her condo and turned toward him, he saw that they were.

“Thanks,” she said.

“That’s it?” He couldn’t believe she meant to leave him standing there.

“You want to dry your watch and make sure it works?” she asked.

“Of course it works. It’s water resistant,” he said. “That isn’t the point. Either you’re trying to duck the issue or you want to have a highly personal conversation right here in the hallway. Given the nosiness of your neighbors, I would advise against it.”

A panicky expression crossed her face. It made Chance feel like an ogre for twisting her arm, but darn it, he wasn’t going to let Deirdre escape again. Whatever she was hiding needed to come out in the open.

At least now he knew she wasn’t married. Or an escaped felon. Or any of the other unlikely possibilities that had occurred to him.

“Come on.” He made the decision for her, escorting her inside and closing the door behind them. “Let’s get this over with.”

“That sounds…threatening.”

“Absolutely not,” he said. “I just want to clear the air.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay,” she said, then hesitated, as if thinking things over.

The condo surprised him, when Chance allowed himself to look around. Subconsciously he’d expected to find it flowery and old-fashioned, with a few stuffed animals or dolls tucked among ruffled pillows.

Instead it was subtle with a couple of key focal points. His attention fixed first on a red, orange and pink blanket woven in a jagged design, draped across the back of the off-white couch. Then he noticed, in an opposing corner, a large ceramic planter with a band of molten red against a multitextured blue-gray surface.

Everything else in the room flowed in muted colors and shapes. Chairs, lamps, draperies, all had been selected with a discerning taste.

“Who did your decorating?” He wouldn’t mind hiring the same designer to complete the interior of his house.

“I did.” Nibbling at her lower lip, Daisy edged toward the kitchen. “Would you like coffee?”

“No, but help yourself, if it’ll warm you,” he said. “Better yet, get dressed.”

“I’m not cold.”

“I insist.”

“Are you going to supervise to make sure I put on something warm enough?” Dismay at the implication made her eyes fly open. Definitely green.

“Would you like me to?” Chance hadn’t expected the conversation to take such a flirtatious turn, but he didn’t object. “After your antics at the pool, I’d say a little guidance wouldn’t be amiss.”

“Guidance?” She drew the towel tightly around herself. It failed to hide her slim legs or the graceful curve of her neck. “I’m not your little sister.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“Back off.” Her toes curled inside her thong sandals. “I don’t need anyone taking charge of me.”

“All I want is information,” he said. “Why did you bail out on me that night?”

“You know, on second thought you’re right. I’d better put on warm clothes.” Like a will-o’-the-wisp, she vanished into the bedroom, leaving Chance gritting his teeth in frustration.

DAISY STRUGGLED to peel the damp suit from her goose-bumpy flesh. It didn’t help to know that the best-looking man she’d ever met was waiting in the next room and that, by all indications, she had only to summon him and he’d come to undress her, inch by quivering inch.

Undress her and how many other women in the next few days and nights?

She couldn’t tear from her mind the image of him standing in the sunshine, holding that blond woman outside the restaurant. Gazing into her pouty face. Surrounding her with his strength, just as he’d done a few minutes ago to Daisy.

It was unfair that a man should possess such tenderness, such endearing manners—and such a complete lack of faithfulness.

Daisy wasn’t usually a sucker for a ladies’ man. She’d seen how her mother struggled to bring up a child alone, and her heart still bore the scars inflicted by an absentee father.

But there was something different about Chance Foster, a genuine quality that sneaked past her defenses. Should she be honest with him about why she’d left and risk letting him persuade her to try again?

Still debating, Daisy put on a long, hand-dyed dashiki her mother had made and went into the bathroom. She dragged a brush through her hair and stared at herself in the mirror.

Her skin looked more flushed than usual, probably from the sun, or could it be the result of her hormone pills? The doctor had changed her prescription a few months earlier, and she’d been suffering minor side effects.

The reminder of her medical condition threw cold water on temptation. A man like Chance Foster, attractive and successful and popular, would never have the patience to put up with her problems.

The doctor had said she might not be able to have a baby at all. The golden boy of Phoenix wasn’t very likely to choose a wife who couldn’t provide him with suitably golden offspring, was he? Even assuming, and it was a huge long shot, that he ever developed serious intentions toward Daisy.

Perhaps other women could afford to risk their hearts on him. She couldn’t. She needed a kind and undemanding family man who was at no risk of dragging her emotions onto a roller coaster the way her father had done.

No matter how much she wanted to hold Chance Foster one more time, she couldn’t afford to.

Squaring her shoulders, Daisy went to face him.

CHANCE COULDN’T FIGURE OUT why it took a woman so long to throw on a few clothes. On the other hand, he enjoyed knowing that Daisy cared enough about him to take pains with her appearance.

He appreciated women who groomed themselves well. And he knew a lot of them. Chance had heard that other men envied the way he showed up at charity and social events with one beauty after another.

What they didn’t know was that most of the ladies were platonic friends. Few men took the time to listen or to share big brotherly advice, and he’d discovered that women were hungry for uncritical companionship.

He was no monk, of course. There’d been a few lovers during the ten years since he finished law school, when his fiancée broke off their engagement to pursue her dream of a high-powered career.

It was a dream Chance had once shared, but he was a realist about his circumstances. Most of the time, anyway.

He didn’t regret that none of his later relationships had resulted in marriage. The women had been wrong for him, and not ready for marriage, either, in his view.

As a divorce attorney, he’d learned to identify the danger signs. Unrealistic expectations. Financial irresponsibility. Unwillingness to discuss differences of opinion.

Chance had long ago discarded the romantic notion that love was the essential ingredient in marriage, because he’d seen how quickly it could fade under adversity. He knew the keys were mutual respect and compatibility, not head-over-heels passion.

At least he’d thought so until he met Deirdre. He couldn’t explain what had hit him. Heaven knew he’d spent two months trying to talk himself out of his burning desire to see her again, without success.

With Deirdre he felt a new kind of connection. He wanted to linger in her arms, to listen to her breathing, to hear her laughter. When he’d awakened the morning after they’d made love and found her gone, the house had echoed with emptiness.

Chance was flipping through an art magazine, wondering if this was where she got her decorating ideas, when Daisy came out wearing an African-style dress whose soft fabric molded to the contours of her body. The dress was neither stylish nor glamorous, but on her, highly appealing.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

Her reddish-brown hair bobbed as she nodded. It reminded him of the woman he’d seen this afternoon.

“You don’t happen to work at an art gallery, do you?” he said.

“I own one.” Daisy led the way into the kitchen, where she poured herself coffee from a carafe and stuck it in the microwave to reheat. “Native Art, downtown.”

“No wonder you did such a great job of selecting your furnishings.” He made a mental note to visit her gallery. Often. “So you work one block from my office. I haven’t been imagining things.”

“You mean you saw that oddball woman ducking into alleys whenever you walked by?” Daisy shrugged. “That was me.”

“Care to provide an explanation?” he said. “Or do you behave this way with all your lovers?”

She snatched the coffee mug from the microwave, and for a moment he feared she was going to throw it at him. “That was uncalled for.”

“A low blow,” he agreed. “I’m sorry. I’m also still awaiting your answer about why you left that night.”

“I left because I don’t think we’re suited to each other,” she said. “And I was embarrassed. It isn’t my custom to go to bed with strangers.”

“That doesn’t explain why you couldn’t wait until morning to tell me. I thought I’d done something to offend you. You owe me an apology and a lot better reason than you’ve given.”

Chance knew he was pressuring her. Had she been a casual friend, he would have backed off and listened sympathetically. But he had no intention of behaving that way with Daisy.

She’d hurt him, and it was going to hurt him even more if he couldn’t make her change her mind. He wanted more of the excitement that had been missing from his relationships since college. He wanted another chance with this woman.

Daisy sniffed at the coffee and set the cup down without tasting it. “You’re right, it was cowardly. I’m sorry. You have every right to be angry. So I guess you don’t want to see me again, and that’s the end of it.”

“Wrong,” he said.

“You can’t possibly expect—I mean, this is all mixed up. My coffee doesn’t even smell appetizing. I must be really wired.” She paced into the living room. “We should never have—done what we did. What would your sister say? And Phoebe?”

“I can’t imagine why they should object,” Chance returned.

“Oh, they won’t. They’ll fuss. They’ll cheer us on. They’ll shove us together at every possible opportunity,” Daisy said. “They’ll drive us both crazy.”

“So you’re rejecting me because I’m Elise’s brother? And because my sister would approve of our getting involved? That doesn’t make sense.”

Daisy took a stance on the pale carpet. “I answered your question about why I left you. I knew we were wrong for each other, and I was embarrassed. That’s the whole story.”

Chance knew it couldn’t be. His lawyer instincts prodded him to back her into a corner, argue until she broke down and win the case through logic. But if he did that, he would lose any hope of winning her heart.

Instead he said, “Maybe we could start over. You have no reason to be embarrassed now, because I’m not a stranger, and—”

“I didn’t agree to a debate,” she said. “This conversation is over.”

“Are you asking me to go?”

“No hard feelings, but yes.”

For one agonizing moment he held her gaze. She was so much smaller than he but equally strong willed. He’d met his match, he thought. Perhaps in more ways than one.

“I yield the point,” he said. “And, Daisy?”

“Yes?”

“Please stop ducking around corners and nearly drowning yourself to avoid me,” he said. “I’m not an ogre.”

“I’ll remember that,” she said.

Judging by the glint in her eye, Chance knew she was teasing. He just hoped that behind the teasing lay an attraction to match his own.

Chapter Three

He certainly wasn’t an ogre, Daisy thought as she closed the door behind him. He was sexy and bewitching and even a bit vulnerable.

If only she could yield to instinct and haul him into her bedroom. If only she had a heart of cast iron and could simply enjoy the moment.

But Chance had the power to hurt her badly. And eventually he’d do it, either through one big abandonment or through little betrayals over time.

In the meantime he was too forceful. Daisy had nearly backed down beneath his verbal onslaught, had nearly apologized and admitted she’d been wrong.

She didn’t want to back down. She didn’t want a man who could override her better judgment and control her actions.

In her adult life she’d been involved seriously with two men. They’d seemed different from each other on the surface, but underneath they’d been alike.

Commanding. Insistent. Wanting to take charge of her. In both cases, she’d broken things off after a nasty argument.

Maybe it was because she’d grown up without a father or even a grandfather, but in Daisy’s experience it simply wasn’t possible to negotiate with a man. There was no way to share power, only fight or flight.