her. He gathered her close, kissed the top of her head, then her forehead, then the bridge of her nose. “I’ve wanted to do this all evening, Libby,” he said, his breath warm and fragrant as expensive French wine on her face.
Libby felt like whimpering, “What took you so long?” But then David’s mouth covered hers, and speech was suddenly and completely out of the question. She couldn’t even think, but only inhale his wonderful scent and savor the rich remnants of wine on his lips. A tiny moan mounted in her throat, threatening to break loose and inform him just how much she craved his touch.
He leaned back slightly, used his thumb to angle her face up to meet his gaze. Those lovely hazel eyes of his had deepened to a dark and passionate green. “Stay here with me tonight. Don’t go back to that dump.”
Something clicked in her head, and Libby blinked hard as her eyes began to focus again. She could feel her mouth flattening to a hard, thin line. Then she straightened up even as she took a step back, out of his arms.
“I don’t want to be rude,” she said, “especially after that divine dinner, and also because I truly like you, David. I like you enormously. But I won’t have my aunt’s lifetime endeavor trashed or made fun of. Not by you. Not by anyone.” She paused a second, her eyes still locked on his. “I hope that’s clear.”
He nodded. “Got it,” he said. He sounded absolutely sincere if not somewhat taken aback by her rather unexpected challenge. “I won’t do it again.”
“Good.” Libby smiled. “I’m glad you understand.” Then she lifted her chin and tapped a finger to her lips. “Now kiss me goodnight again. Please.”
Women rarely stood up to him, either professionally or privately. It was such a rarity, in fact, that David couldn’t remember the last time it had happened. Hell, men rarely stood up to him these days. His little Libby was a tigress in peach silk. He smiled in the darkness at the memory of her fierce, flashing eyes, her stiffened spine and her delicate but formidable chin. More power to her, in fact. She’d had every right to put him in his place after he’d spoken disparagingly of her motel, wreck that it was.
He cursed himself now for deceiving this wonderful woman from the get-go. Had he ever had a more stupid, more self-defeating, almost suicidal idea? He was going to have to make it all right, but at the moment he didn’t have a clue how to do it. All he knew was that he didn’t want to lose her. Well, hell. He didn’t even have her yet, but Lord how he wanted her.
He turned over in bed, pummeled the pillow once more with his fist, and eyed the bedside clock. It was two-fifteen. He’d be likely to wake her if he called her right now. With any luck, however, she’d be awake also, just across the highway, tossing and turning and thinking about him. Yeah. He should be so lucky.
Well, maybe he was. She answered her phone on the second ring.
David skipped the usual telephone introductions and niceties and immediately said, “Let’s do something fun tomorrow.”
A soft, sexy murmur came through the distance. “Like what?” she purred.
“I don’t know. Let’s just go somewhere, anywhere. We’ll just hold hands and wander. We’ll be kids on our very first date.”
She laughed, and the sound was practically delicious. “I’ll have you know,” she said, “I sprained my ankle on my very first date.”
“No problem. I’ll carry you.” David smiled in the darkness, imagining her in his arms. “Where should we go?” he asked her. “What about the zoo?”
“Been there.”
“The art museum?”
She let out a long sigh. “Been there, too.”
“How about the Arch?”
“Done that.”
David, at a loss now, said, “Well, pick someplace. Anyplace. It doesn’t have to be in St. Louis.”
She was quiet a moment and then she said, “I know. Let’s go to Hannibal.”
“Hannibal?” David scratched his head. “You mean Hannibal, as in Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn?”
“Uh-huh. That’s exactly what I mean. I haven’t been there since I was a kid, and it’s only an hour and a half or so away. I’ll even drive if you’d like.”
“Wait. I’ve got a better idea. Can you be ready to go by ten tomorrow morning?”
“Sure. I’m pretty sure I can get all my work out of the way by ten. Definitely by ten-thirty.”
“Great. I’ll send someone to pick you up then. Sleep well, darlin’. I’ll see you at ten-thirty.”
Then he closed his phone and, like a contented little boy who’d just had his warm milk and chocolate-chip cookies, David at long last drifted off to sleep.
On her side of the highway, Libby finally slept well, too.
Four
Early the next morning Libby taped a sign to the office door. Closed for renovations. She wasn’t kidding herself that half a dozen or more cars would suddenly be turning into the motel’s drive in search of accommodations, but the sign made her feel better anyway knowing her aunt Elizabeth would approve of properly informing the public. Libby was sure she could count on Doug to pass along the news when he visited her in the rehab facility.
The crew of young ponytailed painters from the Marquis had returned bright and early. Two of the cabins were already finished with their fresh coats of cream and deep green paint and they didn’t look all that bad in Libby’s admittedly biased opinion. After admiring them, she called a roofing company to arrange for an inspection of the damage she’d seen from the penthouse the night before. It wouldn’t do any good to have brand-new décor, she figured, only to have it ruined by a leaky roof.
What else hadn’t she considered? Libby wondered, when she’d budgeted her fifty-thousand-dollar gift? At the moment, she didn’t even want to think about all the structural problems she might have breezily overlooked while concentrating on the place’s worn and outdated décor. Strange and horrible visions of wood rot and mildew and termites began to tumble around in her brain, threatening yet another headache, something she certainly didn’t need this morning.
She looked at her watch and realized she had a little less than half an hour before she’d be swept off to the Marquis once again. Libby sighed, silently acknowledging that her time would be better spent here, going over and adjusting renovation plans, than in Hannibal where she merely intended to have fun with a gorgeous guy.
It had been several years since she’d had the least bit of interest in a man, and now—faced with her fifty-thousand-dollar motel makeover challenge—along came David, who actually made her heart flutter while he gave her the impression that his own heart might be fluttering a little bit, too. How was that for terrible timing?
She showered, dressed and was ready to go without a moment to spare when the hotel’s black limousine pulled into the drive. Jeff, the young man who had driven the limo the night before, opened the rear door for her. She thanked him, and then once he was settled up in front behind the wheel, she asked him, “How do you like working at the Marquis?”
