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“A friend owns a condo here. She travels a lot, and she’s out of town now, but I have her permission to stay here whenever I like.”
She. Tara was a bit surprised by her immediate reaction to the pronoun. By the questions that flooded her mind. Questions that were absolutely none of her business.
Concentrate on what you’re doing, Tara.
“You, er, have a key?” she asked him a bit too casually.
“Yes. She gave me one for emergencies like this.”
Obviously, Blake didn’t lead quite as lonely a life as Tara had imagined. And, obviously, she’d been foolish to start weaving romantic fantasies around the things he’d said to her earlier. He certainly didn’t seem to have been pining for her!
Fifteen minutes later, she and Blake entered a beautifully furnished condominium with a breathtaking view of the Savannah River. Through the glass wall at the back of the white-on-white living room, Tara could see the lights from boats reflecting off the water.
“This is lovely,” she murmured.
Blake looked very much at home as he tossed his cowboy hat on a low table. “Stephanie’s done all right for herself.”
Stephanie. “It’s, um, very kind of her to let us stay here.”
Blake nodded. “Listen, I’m going to take a shower and change before I start making calls. Make yourself at home, okay? I’m sure there are soft drinks and juice in the fridge. There’s a TV hidden in that cabinet if you want to put your feet up and catch the news.”
Tara didn’t turn on the TV, nor did she raid the refrigerator after Blake disappeared somewhere into the condo. Instead, she unlocked and opened the glass doors and stepped out onto the balcony, where she could enjoy the rain-cooled evening and think about everything that had happened.
She didn’t realize how much time passed while she stood there. She jumped when Blake spoke from behind her. “Nice out here, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s...”
She turned, and her words died in her throat when she saw that he was wearing a loose-fitting blue shirt, pleated gray slacks and gray suspenders. He’d even changed his shoes, from the pointed-toe cowboy boots he’d worn with his jeans, to black loafers. There was no doubt the clothes were his. And they hadn’t been in the duffel bag he’d brought with them.
She twisted her hands in front of her and held on to her smile with a massive effort. “Yes,” she said again. “It’s lovely.”
Blake leaned against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest, legs crossed at the ankles. The soft light from a fixture beside the door illuminated him in a golden glow. Just looking at him made Tara’s pulse race.
“I’d like to take you out to dinner,” he said.
Her eyebrows rose. “That’s how I got into trouble the last time.”
His smile was forced. “I know. And this is another working meal. We’re meeting someone.”
“Another one of your strange friends?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Questions swirling in her head, she smoothed her hands over her discount-store jeans. “I hope we’re not going anywhere too elegant,” she murmured, feeling underdressed compared to Blake.
“You’ll want to change.”
“Well, I have the dinner suit I wore yesterday,” she said. “It’s badly wrinkled, but surely there’s an iron or a steamer here.”
He shook his head. “We’ll find you something here. You and Stephanie are about the same size, though she’s probably a couple of inches taller.”
“Blake, I am not raiding your friend’s closet.” Tara was appalled at the very idea.
“She won’t mind.”
She shook her head. “No.”
Blake reached out, took her hand, and threaded their fingers together in that cozy, intimate, enticing way that he had. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go find you something to wear.”
