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She blinked. “What do you... Oh, the cookies. They came from Miller’s Bakery, a couple of blocks from here.”
He took another bite, then washed it down with more coffee. “Really good,” he murmured appreciatively.
“Blake, try to stick with the conversation, will you?” she asked, losing patience. “Why did you come here?”
He set his coffee cup on the table, linked his hands in front of him and leaned slightly toward her. “I need you, Tara McBride. Will you help me?”
LATER THAT EVENING, Blake stood once again at Tara’s door, pleased with himself that he’d convinced her to go out with him that evening. It had been a spur-ofthe-moment plan, and he was glad he’d pitched it as though he needed her to help him, rather than the other way around.
She definitely needed to get out, he’d decided after seeing her that afternoon. Though he’d managed to hide it, his first glimpse of her this afternoon had shaken him.
Blake had known Tara McBride for almost two years. He’d made it a point to spend a little time with her whenever he visited the offices of Carpathy, Dillon and Delacroix, her former law firm, and he’d always thought she was a beautiful woman with brains, ambition, determination, and a limitless future. From what he’d discreetly found out about her, he knew she’d been small-town-raised and Harvard-educated.
Way out of his league, in other words.
He’d never imagined he’d ever see her looking lost, vulnerable, frightened or defeated. Until today.
He’d told himself that the only reason he’d looked her up today was to make sure she was okay. He’d been shocked when he’d found out from the rather gossipy receptionist at the law firm that Tara had been summarily fired after a conflict with the senior partners. The receptionist had confided to Blake that Tara had left looking as though she’d “run smack into a brick wall.” Carrying her belongings in her arms, she’d left without saying a word to anyone.
“I thought she was going to cry,” the receptionist had whispered to Blake. “She didn’t, but she looked like she might. I never thought I’d see Ms. McBride looking so devastated.”
That had been two days ago. Blake had worried about Tara ever since, until finally he hadn’t been able to resist seeing for himself that she was okay. He’d had a feeling that something was very wrong.
And when he saw her, he’d known that, once again,. his instincts were on target.
She’d been resistant at first to going out with him. But she’d seemed intrigued by the idea of working with him on a case. Could it be that the buttoned-down attorney had been hiding a craving for adventure behind that gorgeous, corporate-clone facade? Blake could give her a taste—even if that was all he had to offer a woman like Tara McBride.
Wryly aware of how much he was anticipating spending the evening with her, he ran his right hand through his hair and reached out to press the doorbell.
The woman who opened the door to him this time bore little resemblance to the woebegone waif who’d greeted him earlier, he noted immediately. In her place was the poised, competent professional he’d known and admired—from afar—at the law firm.
She’d swept her shoulder-length, white-blond hair into a neat, firm twist at the back of her head. Her makeup was light, but skillfully applied. She wore a tailored black dinner suit with high-heeled black pumps. The fitted jacket came together in an intriguing, but tasteful V, and was fastened by glittery black buttons down the front. Deep pockets on the sides emphasized the curves of her slender hips. Her skirt was straight, and ended just above her knees, showcasing her long legs. Her jewelry consisted of diamond stud earrings, and a pearl choker clasped around her slender throat.
She was beautiful. And she represented everything that was missing from Blake’s life.
Quickly shoving that unexpected insight to the back of his mind, he smiled and extended his left hand, in which he held a single, deep red rose in full bloom.
“This reminded me of you,” he said. Classy, formal, stylized and beautiful, yet its bold coloring hinted at passion in the same way Tara’s glittering, blue-violet eyes had often made Blake wonder what secrets lay behind her polished facade.
He made sure his fingers brushed hers when she reached out to accept the bloom. The all-too-brief contact jolted Blake, who was immediately hit with an urge to pull her into his arms.
Careful, son. That’s not what this evening is about.
This evening was for Tara, not for Blake. And he would do well to keep that in mind.
CHARMED against her better judgment, Tara couldn’t help lifting the fragrant flower to her nose. It was a nice gesture on Blake’s part, she thought a bit wistfully, but she found it hard to believe this lusciously ostentatious rose had reminded him of her. A white rose, maybe, or a cool lavender orchid. But nothing as bold and splashy as this gorgeous bloom.
“Thank you,” she said, making an effort to keep her voice steady and assured. “I’ll put this in water and then I’m ready to go. Unless you’d like something to drink first?”
He shook his head. “No. But thanks.”
It had occurred to her as she’d dressed for dinner that this was the first time in two weeks that she’d actually looked forward to getting out of her apartment. The fact that she was going out with Blake—well, that certainly added to her anticipation. But it wasn’t only that.
She was tired of sitting alone, moping. She’d had two weeks to get that out of her system, but now it was time to get on with her life...even if she had no idea what she would do next.
She’d always been a fighter—which was part of the reason she no longer had a job. It was time for her to start fighting depression and get back on her feet.
She had nearly lost all that newfound confidence again when she’d opened the door and seen Blake. He looked...gorgeous, she thought with an inward sigh. He was wearing a loosely constructed, silvery-gray suit with a crisp white shirt and a blue-and-silver patterned silk tie. He’d left off the fedora this time, and his dark-gold hair was brushed into a sexy, disheveled style that made her itch to run her fingers through it.
