“I ought to be in the Guinness Book of World Records for greatest number of stepparents.”
“I’m...sorry,” she said.
He waved a hand in dismissal. “But back to you. When did the stalking start?”
She lifted the shopping bag onto the desk and gestured for him to look inside. “A year ago. I was having lunch with a friend here in Colorado Springs. Pinky stole my Day-Timer.”
He peeked inside the bag. It contained envelopes, most of them pink, plus cassette tapes and bundles of cards in all shapes and sizes. An impressive collection for only a year’s time. “I take it you’re the type of lady who carries her life in a book?”
Her eyes narrowed and her full lips thinned. Her expressiveness startled him, enchanted him. No glamour magazine cutout she, but a living, breathing mortal.
“No offense intended. But some people are organizers and some aren’t. What was in the Day-Timer?”
“Everything.” A faint blush blossomed on her cheeks.
Daniel suppressed a sigh.
“Names, addresses, my schedule. It was right before Christmas, so it contained information about my entire year. The first letter arrived a week later. He sent a box of chocolates, too. I threw them away. The letters and gifts kept coming. When I realized he wouldn’t stop, I began saving them. I keep looking for clues. He knows all about me, but I know nothing about him.”
“What about the cassette tapes? You’re taping phone calls?”
She twisted a hank of hair around her fingers. “He’s never called me. The tapes are recordings of love songs, religious sermons and radio commercials. It’s a jumble of nonsense. I don’t know why he sends them.”
“Maybe he’s hearing messages from you. He’s letting you know he’s receiving them.”
“Please...”
“I’m serious. One stalker was convinced his victim sent him daily messages via the Geraldo Rivera show. He spent hours transcribing every word so he didn’t miss any messages.”
“That’s insane.”
“That’s delusion at work.”
She rolled her eyes. “At first I was angry because I was certain he stole my Day-Timer. Then I thought he would grow bored and give up. But the letters have grown increasingly personal. It’s as if he knows everything about my life. He knows everything I do.” She closed her eyes for a moment and sat perfectly still. When she looked at him, her expression held a tremulous plea that touched him deeply. “Very little frightens me, but Pinky scares me to death. I don’t like it. I won’t tolerate it. Can you help me, Mr. Tucker?”
“I’ll do my best.” He began emptying the bag, sorting the contents into stacks of letters, cards and cassette tapes. “You haven’t told anybody about Pinky? Your parents? Friends?”
“No, and I have no intention of doing so. My father is seventy-seven years old. He doesn’t need the stress. I want this problem solved with the least amount of fuss as possible.”
He suspected her need for privacy went much deeper than concern about her father’s age. He’d talk with her about it later.
“The party I’m giving for my parents is very important. We’re hosting a family reunion, plus, friends we haven’t seen in years will be attending. I can’t cancel the party just to make Pinky happy.”
“You’re right about that. It would only encourage him. Let me sort through this mess. I’ll see what I can pick up, maybe come up with a profile about his character. Then we’ll discuss strategy.”
A trace of a smile curved her luscious mouth. She opened her slim handbag and withdrew a leather-bound checkbook. “About your fee—”
“I don’t have a fee.”
“Pardon?”
He adored the way she said that. All snooty and refined, like a princess momentarily ruffled by the riffraff. “I have more money than I know what to do with.”
“I pay for whatever services I receive.”
“I don’t take cash from stalking victims.” He cocked his head, studying the gentle contours of her oval face and the sculpted lines of her cheekbones. He resisted examining her shoulders and breasts, but awareness of her alluring body heated his blood. He’d like to have her in his debt.
He’d really like to have her in his bed. Thaw the ice, rev her engine, goad her into calling him darling—and mean it. He pushed his tongue against his palate and kept his mouth shut. Now would definitely be a bad time to let her know what he was thinking. Especially since the frigid glare she gave him said she suspected exactly what he was thinking.
“How about a trade?”
She tilted her head to one side. “A trade?”
“I get rid of Pinky, you give me a honeymoon.”
“Pardon?” Her voice had risen slightly, and the corners of her mouth twitched.
Seeing her fight a smile convinced him that heat pulsed beneath her icy veneer. “You’ve got the Honeymoon Hideaway, right? Fancy cabins, room service, moonlight and romance. I could really go for that. Can you set up a honeymoon for me?”
“I could....” She relaxed—Daniel nearly melted into a puddle beneath the desk. “Are you engaged to be married?”
I’m going to marry you.
The thought shocked him. Still, the sheer rightness glowed in his being like a bright, white light. The last time intuition had struck so hard he’d impulsively purchased a lottery ticket and changed his life forever.
“Not yet. We’ll just keep it open ended.”
She lowered her gaze to the checkbook. “I’m going to have to think about this. Perhaps I haven’t explored all my options.”
He touched the stacks of pink envelopes and fancy cards. He knew he could help her. He needed to help her. One way or another he had to see her again. “If you give me twenty-four hours to study Pinky, I can outline a plan of attack. Then you can decide if you want my help.”
“I’d be more comfortable if this were strictly business.”
“Barter is as good as cash. So what do you say?” He extended a hand over the desk.
“Well...J.T. does highly recommend you.” She shook hands with him. Her skin was cool and silky. Luckily for Daniel the desk was between them, or he’d have drawn her hand to place over his heart.
“I’ll buy you dinner, then. Tomorrow, seven o’clock.”
She cast him a cutting glance that might have cowed a lesser man. Daniel was enchanted. Finding the key to unlock her icy heart might prove to be the most enjoyable challenge of his life.
“I doubt your girlfriend would approve.”
“Business,
