Breaking the Greek's Rules (9 page)

“Daisy, that’s ridic—”

“Take it or leave it.”

There was a long silence, then an exasperated sigh. “Fine. Quarter to eight. Front steps of the Plaza. This Saturday. Don’t be late.”

She was out of her mind.

Absolutely insane.

She couldn’t go out with Alex! She didn’t have a babysitter. And even if she could find one, she didn’t have a dress. Nor did she have a fairy godmother and some talented singing mice who could whip one up in an afternoon.

She was in a complete dither the next afternoon when Izzy and the boys stopped by for a visit after Rip’s orthodontist appointment.

Izzy took one look at Daisy pacing around the kitchen and demanded, “What’s the matter with you?” Her boys went running out back to play with Charlie, but Izzy stood right where she was and studied Daisy with concern.

“Nothing’s wrong with me.”

“Really?” Izzy’s tone dripped disbelief. “You’re pacing the floor. You’re tearing your hair.”

True, but Daisy stopped long enough to put the kettle on. “I have to go out tomorrow night. To the Plaza.”

Izzy’s eyes widened. “A date? At last!” She beamed and rubbed her hands together.

“Not a date! Nothing like that,” Daisy said quickly. “It’s business. Well, sort of business.” She couldn’t quite explain.

“Who with?” Izzy demanded.

“A cousin of Lukas’s. An old … friend.” Which was the truth, wasn’t it? Alex had even called her “an old friend.” “I knew him years ago. He’s interested in getting married. Wanted me to matchmake for him. I said no. Now he’s got a serious girlfriend, but she’s out of town. So he asked me to go in her place.”

It sounded quite believable to Daisy.

Izzy immediately caught the snag. “Why wouldn’t you matchmake for him? I thought you loved matching people with their soul mates.”

“Yes, but—” She wasn’t going into what Alex thought about soul mates. “I didn’t feel I knew him well enough.” Daisy turned away and started rearranging the forks in her silverware drawer. A Tarzan-like yodel from the backyard turned her around in time to see Izzy’s oldest son, Rip, hurtle out of the tree at the end of the garden. He and his younger brother, Crash, were Charlie’s heroes.

“Mountain goats,” Izzy muttered. “I can make them stop if you want.”

Daisy shook her head, grateful the conversation had veered away from Alex. “It’s all right. Charlie loves trying to keep up with them. And it’s good for him to have them. He needs older brothers.”

“Not these two.” Izzy winced as Crash followed his brother’s leap with one of his own. “What’s he like? This cousin of Lukas’s,” Izzy elaborated at Daisy’s blank stare. “Your ‘old friend’? One of the dark handsome Antonides men, is he?”

Daisy did her best at a negligent shrug. “I guess.”

“Not a wild man like Lukas, I hope.”

“No. He’s not like Lukas,” she said. “He’s very … driven.”

“Is that why you’re chewing your nails?”

“I’m chewing my nails because I can’t find a babysitter. I already called your girls.”

“Tansy and Pansy are hopeless now they’re in college,” Izzy agreed cheerfully. “They have lives.” She sighed. “But no worries. I’ll keep him.”

Daisy blinked. “You will? Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. If you don’t mind me having him at our place.” Izzy picked up the kettle and began pouring boiling water because Daisy wasn’t doing it. “He can even spend the night. In case you don’t want to turn into a pumpkin right after the Plaza.” She grinned.

Daisy flushed and shook her head. “Not a chance. I am a pumpkin. Home before midnight. This is not a date. But Charlie would love to go to your place, if you’re sure.”

Izzy waved a hand airily. “I’ll never notice he’s there.” She zeroed back in. “What are you wearing?”

“That’s my other problem,” Daisy admitted. Nothing in her wardrobe lent itself to upscale fundraisers at the Plaza. And despite his brusque “Get something. I’ll pay for it,” she had no intention of allowing herself to feel beholden to Alex.

Izzy was thoughtfully silent for a long moment. Then, “I might have something,” she said, looking Daisy up and down assessingly. “Ichiro Sorrento,” she said.

“What?”

“That new designer whose collection Finn shot last year. Japanese-Italian. You remember him?”

Daisy did. But she shook her head. “No way I can afford anything with his label.”

“You don’t have to. You can wear mine. Remember that gorgeous dress and jacket I wore to Finn’s opening last spring?”

Daisy’s eyes widened. “
That
dress?” The dress had been a deep-sapphire-blue silk, spare and elegant, with an exquisitely embroidered jacket in the same deep blues, emerald-green and hints of violet. “You don’t want me wearing your gorgeous dress. I’d spill something on it.”

“I already have. It doesn’t show,” Izzy said cheerfully.

“I’m taller than you are.”

“Everyone is taller than I am,” Izzy countered. “So what? You’ll just show more leg. I doubt anyone will mind. Especially—” she grinned “—not a male Antonides.”

“Not. A. Date,” Daisy reiterated firmly. “I’m not trying to show off my legs.”

“Of course not. But you’re not a nun, either. You need to knock Mr. Driven Antonides’s socks off. Make him forget all about his serious girlfriend and run off to Vegas with you!”

It was as if a little devil called Izzy was sitting on her shoulder tempting her. “Dream on,” Daisy scoffed.

“A little dreaming never hurt anyone,” Izzy retorted.

Daisy let her have the last word.

But in her heart she begged to differ.

Where the hell was she?

Dozens of hired cars and limos and taxis slid up to the Plaza’s entrance Saturday evening while Alex stood on the steps, shifting from one foot to the other, watching and waiting. There were snowflakes in the air. Alex could see his breath, and his shoulders were getting damp as the snow melted, but he couldn’t bring himself to go inside and wait and pace.

There were scores of black-tie-clad men and elegantly dressed women getting out of taxis and limos—and not one of them was Daisy.

He’d told her quarter to eight. It was almost ten after. He’d got here early, to be sure he was here when she arrived, and she was nowhere to be seen.

He should never have given in to her demand that she come on her own, that he neither pick her up nor take her home after. He’d agreed only because she would have refused to come otherwise. The sweet and malleable Daisy he had known five years ago might still be somewhere inside this Daisy Connolly, but he hadn’t caught a glimpse of her in a long, long time.

Was this her revenge? Was standing him up payback for
his having said he wasn’t interested in marriage all those years ago?

He shouldn’t have asked her to come. It was a damn fool idea. When Caroline had said she couldn’t make it, but suggested he invite his friend Daisy, he’d been surprised.

“My friend Daisy?” he’d echoed, puzzled.

Caroline had shrugged. “I assume she’s your friend. You talk about her all the time.”

Did he? Surely not. But he could hardly deny their friendship if it came across that way to Caroline because how could he justify talking about her if she wasn’t a friend? What would Caroline think if he said she wasn’t a friend at all, she was … a thorn in his side, an itch he never quite managed to get rid of. Like poison ivy, perhaps.

So he’d shrugged and told Caroline he’d ask. And, hell, why not? He could prove to Daisy that he’d listened, that he hadn’t gone straight home and asked Caroline to marry him. He’d done what Daisy suggested and got to know her.

He hadn’t fallen in love with her. That wasn’t going to happen. He knew it. Caroline knew it.

They had seen each other as often as their schedules allowed. They always had a good time. Relationship-wise they were on the same page—and perfectly happy to be there. And if they still hadn’t managed to make it to bed together, well, the time had never been right.

She’d had an early meeting or he was flying off to Paris. She was in Rio or he was in Vancouver. It had nothing to do with memories of Daisy in his bed. She hadn’t been in this bed.

Only in his bedroom. And the fact that he couldn’t forget that was still driving him nuts.

“Alex!” A hearty booming voice from the doorway startled him back to the present—back to the lack of Daisy anywhere in sight. He turned to see Tom Holcomb, the hospital’s vice president in charge of building development.

Tom was grinning broadly, holding out a hand to shake.
“Good to see you. Big night for you.” He pumped Alex’s hand, then looked around. “Where’s your date?”

Alex opened his mouth, hoping that a suitable polite reply would come out when, all of a sudden, from behind a hand caught his.

“Sorry,” Daisy said, catching her breath.

Alex turned his head, saw her smiling up at him, and felt his heart do some sort of triple axel in his chest. There was a glow to her cheeks, as if she’d been running, but she was smiling.

And so was he. His heart which, after the triple axel, had seemed to stop all together as he looked at her, began beating again. “About time,” he said gruffly, swallowing his relief. She was gorgeous. She wore a long black wool dress coat and he could barely get a glimpse of the dress beneath it, but what he could see seemed to sparkle—just as Daisy did. Her eyes were alight, electric almost, taking in everything. She’d pinned her hair up in some sort of intricate knot which reminded him of the way she’d worn it at the wedding when he’d met her. He remembered taking it down, running his fingers through it. Felt a quickening in his body at the temptation to do it again now. It was, after all, already slightly askew, as if she had been running.

“My cab got stuck in traffic. Think I stood you up?” She laughed.

“No.” He wiped damp palms down the sides of his trousers. He wasn’t admitting anything.

“Your date, I presume?”

Alex was suddenly conscious of Tom Holcomb still standing beside him, looking with interest at Daisy.

Alex nodded and drew her forward. “This is Daisy Connolly. Daisy, Tom Holcomb. He is the VP in charge of building development, the man I worked with on the hospital design.”

“The man who rubber-stamped his terrific ideas,” Tom
corrected, shaking the hand Daisy offered. “I’m delighted to meet you. Are you an architect, too?”

“No. A photographer,” Daisy said, shaking the hand he held out. “I recently did a photo shoot of Alex at a building he restored in Brooklyn.”

“A man of many talents,” Tom agreed. He drew Daisy with him into the hotel, asking questions about her own work which she answered, still smiling. And Daisy, with a glance back at Alex, went with him.

Alex stood watching, bemused, and somehow a little dazed.

Dazed by Daisy. Dazzling Daisy, he thought, smiling wryly at his own foolishness. But it was true. And he didn’t mind following, it gave him a chance to admire her from another angle.

From any angle tonight she was elegant, sophisticated, tailored, stylish. She would never be the stunning classical beauty that Caroline was. Daisy’s nose still had a spattering of freckles, her cheekbones were not quite as sharply pronounced. Her mouth was less sculpted than impish. And you could never say that Daisy had every hair in place.

But everything about her was alive—from her unruly hair to her lively sparkling eyes to her kissable lips.

Alex tried not to think about her kissable lips. It wasn’t as if he was going to be tasting them again this evening. Furthermore, he reminded himself, he shouldn’t even want to. He was this close to buying Caroline an engagement ring.

But Caroline’s kisses had never intoxicated him. They’d never made him hot and hard and hungry in a matter of an instant. He’d lost every bit of his common sense that weekend with Daisy—and she hadn’t had any at all.

There had never been anything cool, calm and collected about her. She was a lead-with-her-heart, damn-the-torpedoes, full-speed-ahead sort of woman.

Basically the anti-Caroline. And Caroline was what he wanted.

Wasn’t she?

“Are you coming?”

Alex jerked his brain back into gear to see that Tom had disappeared into the hotel, but that Daisy was still standing at the top of the stairs by the revolving door, waiting.

“Got distracted. Sorry.” He bounded up the steps, feeling awkward, caught out. And feeling that way, he challenged her. “Been running?” he asked her gruffly.

“I told you,” she said with some asperity. “The cab was caught in traffic. I left it in the middle of Columbus Circle.”

“You
walked
from Columbus Circle?” Wide-eyed he stared at her high pointy-toed heels.

“No,” she said flatly. “I ran.”

Definitely the anti-Caroline. Alex shook his head, dazed and amazed, and unable to keep from grinning. “Of course you did.”

Daisy glared, her eyes flashing. “You said not to be late!”

“So I did.” His grin widened briefly, then he met her gaze. “Thank you.”

Their eyes locked. And Alex felt the electricity arc between them exactly the way it always did. It didn’t seem to matter that she was all wrong for him. He jerked his gaze away from hers, but it only went as far as her lips. Nervously she licked them.

Alex’s body went on full alert.

Daisy tore her gaze away. “It sounded like the sort of occasion where it wouldn’t do to waltz in late,” she said, a little ragged edge to her voice. “Not if you’re at the head table.”

She was right, of course. He was being a fool—again.

Impatient with his own weakness, Alex gestured her brusquely into the revolving door. “Well, let’s not waste your sacrifice, then. We’ll go in.”

Daisy was in complete control.

She might as well have had a squadron of singing mice and a fairy godmother the way everything had fallen into place. Izzy was keeping Charlie, the glitzy shimmery dress fit perfectly, the sophisticated black dress coat her mother had given
her for her birthday was beautifully appropriate. Other than the stupid traffic jam and having to run quarter of a mile and that she could feel her hair slipping from its knot, she didn’t have a care in the world.

Granted her first glimpse of Alex in formal attire, complete with black tie, pristine white shirt, checking his watch impatiently as he waited for her, had made her mouth dry and her heart gallop. But, Daisy assured herself, that was because she’d just been running, not because of the man himself.