Brooklyn Knight (36 page)

As Bridget paused once more, her head dropping slightly for a moment, Knight reached forward, setting his teacup on the table in front of the couch. When she looked back up, her eyes locked with the professor’s as she explained;

“Granted, I’m not usually such a forward woman, but—”

And then, as Knight’s eyes suddenly went slightly wide, Bridget realized that it had taken him that long to realize what she had been implying. Blushing harder, she did not notice the professor blushing as well as she said;

“Okay, now that I’ve made a complete fool out of myself, I think I’d, I mean—”

Bridget began to stand, but the jerkiness to the way in which she was moving indicated she had no idea in which direction she should go. Upstairs, outside—where? Before she could pick one, however, the professor reached across the couch, touching her gently on the wrist. As she turned to him, a slightly flustered Knight offered;

“You know there isn’t a red-blooded man on the face of this planet who would turn down such an offer. You, ah … you were making an—”

“Yes,” she cut him off, half-ready to laugh, half-ready to cry, “I was throwing myself at you… .”

“Please.” The professor said the word softly, his tone as tender as human speech could render the word. “Please sit down. Don’t make an old fool feel even more foolish.” Bridget sat again, unable to look at Knight. Moving his hand down to where he could envelop her fingers with his, the professor said;

“First, allow me to apologize. Since we had earlier so thoroughly dismissed the idea of my, how shall I phrase it, ‘making advances’ toward you, I have to admit I really was quite caught off-guard at the idea of you doing so toward me.” Giving the back of Bridget’s head a half smile, he added;

“Devilish unfair of you, teasing the elderly so.”

“I wasn’t teasing,” she answered, still not turning around. Sighing at the dismal reception his feeble attempt at humor had garnered, the professor admitted;

“I know you weren’t. But really, my dear, are you certain you’ve quite thought this through?” Not allowing Bridget the chance to answer, he continued, saying;

“You’ve had a rather exciting introduction to our fair city, and I, for one, am quite certain that you deserve a bit of time to think about this, I have to say, quite wonderful idea of yours, a bit later, say when the sky isn’t literally falling in on us.”

“Are you saying I don’t know my own mind, Professor?”

“No, not at all.” As Bridget finally turned back toward Knight, their eyes met once more as he told her gently, “I’m telling you that I think a great deal of you. And that we have months together ahead of us.” Locking his eyes with hers, he then added;

“I’m saying I think we both need to spend a little time contemplating such a thing. I mean, after all, I want you to still respect me in the morning.”

“I think I would,” Bridget answered, her tone a trifle hurt.

“You know,” answered Knight with a grin, “I think you would, too. But, let’s be certain. Besides …” His eyes suddenly filling with merriment, the professor released his assistant’s hand as he exclaimed;

“Bless all the tiny monkeys, I know what we need!” Hustling Bridget up off the couch and toward the door to his garage, he said;

“I know an all-night diner, the Del Rio, wonderful place, one of Brooklyn’s finest—no more than fifteen minutes from here. They serve a full menu, but they’re only good for two things, burgers and breakfast.”

Jumping down the three stairs leading into the garage, Knight circled to the driver’s side of the car, calling out;

“We’ll order family-style—pancakes and sausages, home fries and toast, juice and eggs, three different types. And bacon. What do you say, my dear? If we’re going to sin this early in our relationship, let’s start with nitrates.”

Throwing the professor a grin that signaled the acceptance of her defeat, Bridget leaped down into the garage, heading for the passenger-side door.

Why not?
she told herself.
I like bacon as much as the next girl. And besides, as far as you and I are concerned, Professor Piers Knight …

Smiling, she slid into her seat.

I’ve got all summer.