here.”
“What tight spot?” Dillon lifted his beer to his lips, wincing at having to admit he’d just missed a good portion of his friend’s conversation.
“I need a favor. I need a guy Saturday night,” Jake spoke slowly as if talking to a slow-witted child, plunking his beer glass on the table between them.
“Sorry, I have a lot on my mind. I’ve got this involved case I’m reviewing.” It wasn’t a total lie, Dillon reasoned.
“You don’t work in the courts anymore, you’re a law professor. What case?”
Dillon had no intention of sharing his latest project with Jake. When the man got ahold of an idea, he was like a dog with a bone. Remembering the number of failed blind dates his buddy had conned him into before he’d started going with Joan at the end of their senior year of high school, he shuddered to think what kind of woman his friend would try to scrounge up for him.
“How’s your sister?” Dillon asked, determined to distract Jake.
“El? She’s okay. Listen, you have to do this for me—”
For a split second Dillon’s stomach churned. Surely, Jake didn’t want him to go out with his sister. He remembered the shy tomboy who’d followed them everywhere. If his memory was correct, not long after his marriage to Joan, she’d gone back east to college.
“Do what for you?” he asked cautiously.
“The department is putting on a charity dinner for the East Side Women’s Shelter. We’ll have a silent auction and some dancing, but most of the program is a mock dating-game theater show, and the guy from the department who was going to be the contestant backed out at the last minute.”
Dillon took a long gulp of his beer, relief flowing down his throat with the malt. His best friend was not setting him up to date his kid sister. The corporate workaholic Jake had said she’d become was not on his agenda. “What happened to the guy?”
“Got married and his new wife doesn’t want him participating.”
“What about one of the other guys?”
“All on assignment, and I’m going to be too busy being master of ceremonies to be a contestant, so don’t ask.”
As a U.S. Marshal, Jake took his assignments very seriously, including this one, apparently.
“When is this important ‘event’?” Dillon asked, frowning at the delay to his own plans. He’d just have to work around it. He owed Jake too much. If it hadn’t been for his tenacious friend, he didn’t know how he would have survived Joan’s death.
“This Saturday. I’m sorry this is so last minute, but I’m desperate. And maybe after the show is over, you and the lucky lady you choose can spend some time together.” An incurable romantic, Jake had already informed Dillon, ad nauseam, that it was about time he rejoined the singles dating scene.
“Not likely, knowing the type of woman you usually rake up for your schemes.” For a brief moment, Dillon wondered if he was out of his mind to get mixed up in anything his good buddy was involved in.
It’s for charity, Stone.
“Okay. I can do it. I guess I’m not doing anything that night, anyway.”
“Great.” Jake raised his beer in the air. “To success and to finding that perfect woman.”
Slowly, Dillon clinked his beer glass to Jake’s, suspicion dancing along his nerves. No, Jake couldn’t possibly know he was in the market for a new wife. This was just another one his friend’s wacky do-gooder schemes.
Finishing his beer, he idly glanced around the dimly lit room until his gaze settled on a woman just entering the lounge. For a breathless moment, with her face half hidden in shadow, she stood motionless, like a priceless porcelain sculpture.
Without his permission and faster than a heartbeat, all Dillon’s predatory male instincts came alive. Where in the world did she come from? Interest sneaking up his spine, he couldn’t resist feasting on the vision silently taking in the occupants of the room.
Blond hair fell straight past her shoulders like a shimmering pale waterfall, a faint layer of bangs blocked from falling into eyes framed by wire-rimmed glasses. Heart-shaped lips pressed tight in concentration as the woman thoroughly scanned each table, one by one.
Dillon’s first thought, She’s looking for someone, ambushed him into sudden attention as his gaze followed the lithe line of her body. His silent touch moved slowly down her long, slender neck, past proudly held shoulders, then memorized an unforgettable figure that assaulted him with its mounds and valleys—not the least bit hidden by the high-power business suit she wore.
Then the woman stepped farther into the low-lighted room.
Dillon’s senses vibrated, like an overstrung guitar string, at the hint of long, lean legs enhanced to perfection by irreverent, practical shoes showcasing fantasy-producing legs and slender feet. Feeling like he’d been gut-kicked, he looked up from his frank appraisal to find the woman staring at him. For a heart-stopping moment, she stood still as if in stunned surprise, then just as quickly dismissed him and flicked her gaze to his friend.
Unaccustomed to being ignored like yesterday’s day-old bread, and—God only knew why—not liking it, Dillon watched as the woman’s gaze turned suspicious as she started toward their table with undeniable purpose.
His second thought, Uh-oh, here comes trouble, settled him back in his chair as he realized there was something familiar about the woman approaching them, anger barely suppressed and certainly not hidden in her smoldering expression.
Dillon’s third thought concluded, This woman is not a Suzie Homemaker.
“Jake.” Eleanor didn’t quite succeed in hiding the blazing temper pulsing through her temples behind the cool, even tone of voice she directed at her foster brother. She’d known the brat was up to no good. Here was the proof.
She’d wondered how long it would take Jake to parade her in front of the man she once would have moved heaven and earth for. That childish crush had died a final death on the day he’d married Joan. Though nine years ago she hadn’t thought it could be possible, she’d gone on and made something good of her life.
Now, in a nanosecond, she saw everything about Dillon Stone. The faded but well-fitting jeans. The casually worn brown tweed sport coat. Ruffled dark hair that annoyingly begged her fingers to run through it. The sharp, piercing gaze that she was afraid could see to her innermost secrets.
Eleanor ignored the faint tremble in her heart as she felt again his prowling interest when she’d first entered the lounge.
How often had she fought staring at the wedding picture Jake had given her? Each time, pushing down fierce longing for the look of love that radiated from a younger version of this man to another woman, his wife…a dainty, beautiful, dark-haired creature tucked protectively under his arm?
Even though she knew better, for a while she’d looked to find that same love for herself. Finally, convinced she wasn’t going to be that lucky, she’d buried the picture and her dream of a true-and-lasting love for herself in the bottom of a box that contained the few mementos she’d somehow
