Male Order Bride (13 page)

When he left, Lacey looked down to the end of the table.
Catching Patricia's eye, she smiled as if to say.
You and
George were right—he's terrific
. She looked around
her at the couples close by and listened in for the most likely
conversation she could join.

"Where are you from, Lacey?" one of the wives or
girlfriends—Lacey couldn't tell which—asked.

"I'm from Mississippi," Lacey answered. "But I've only been living on the Coast about five years."

She was going to ask where the woman was from, but before
she could, another woman asked, "What kind of work do you do?"

"I have a dress boutique," she answered. "Lacey's Designs.
I also do original designs."

"Not that new shop I read about in the paper!" the woman
said, patting the arm of the woman next to her. "This is the girl who
runs that new boutique in that cute little Victorian house I told you
about," she said.

"How nice," the other woman answered. "I've always wanted
to go in there. But I guess I thought it was going to be too expensive."

Lacey laughed, slightly embarrassed by the woman's
bluntness. "I hope it gives that impression," she said, smiling. "And I
guess some of my originals are expensive, but I also carry a line of
dresses and sportswear that costs no more than what you'd pay in some
of the shops in the mall. You'll have to come by. Just to browse. Don't
ever feel as if you have to buy something just because you walked in
the door. I always enjoy window-shopping myself more than anything
else. It gives you a chance to dream."

"We'll have to come by, then, won't we, Myrtle?"

Lacey registered the name and repeated it. Myrtle.
Try
not to forget that
. If Lacey listened carefully enough and
waited long enough, she might find out who the other woman was as well.

"Have you known Rafe long?" the other woman asked.

Lacey smiled; he had created quite a bit of curiosity.
"Not long," she answered. "How about you?"

"It doesn't take long to get to know Rafe," Myrtle
answered. "Although I suspect he keeps a lot to himself."

"In what way?" Lacey asked, hungry for any insights into
the man who was her date.

"He's the type who'll do anything for you. But he has his
private side. I don't think he lets very many people into his private
world, in spite of his friendliness."

"Very particular, too," the other woman commented, and
smiled at Lacey. "Just look at you. He waits all these months before he
brings a date with him, but when he does, he doesn't just pick anybody
off the street."

Lacey smiled; they approved of her. "Thank you. I'm happy
to be here this evening. But I feel a little out of place not knowing
anyone's name."

"That's okay," Myrtle said. "We'll help you out."

"I'm happy to meet you again," Lacey said, holding out her
hand across the table to shake hers. "It's so nice of you to accept me
so readily."

"If Rafe has picked you, you have to be special," Myrtle
said, and winked.

Rafe returned just then. Lacey watched him stride across
the room. He was wearing full military dress this evening, and the dark
jacket gave his shoulders a broad look and seemed to emphasize his
towering height. She thought back to her image of him as a beanpole and
decided he had more of a reedlike frame, not at all unattractive.

"What's the occasion tonight?" Lacey asked when he sat
next to her again. Some of the others were dressed in uniform, some
were not.

"We just picked a date and decided to have a reunion. It
happens periodically in different parts of the country. This time it
just happened to be near me."

He started telling her then in low tones who each man was
and how he had served with or come to meet him. "Most of them are my
closest friends," he told her. "Moving as much as you do with the
military life-style, you tend to keep up with the people of your past.
Otherwise you lose your past. It's like a living scrapbook. We remind
each other of the things that happened between us."

"Is A. J. Tell here?" she asked. "Or… What were
the other names on the list?"

He grinned. "No, they're not here. They couldn't make it.
Did you call them?"

"I called A.J. I never did get any farther down the list."

"What did A.J. say to you?"

"He laughed," she said. "I woke the poor man up. I suppose
I was lucky that he thought it was funny."

"That sounds like A.J. But didn't you learn anything about
me from him?"

"A little," Lacey admitted. "He kept saying, 'He's the
best.'" She smiled. A.J. hadn't been far wrong.

Lacey wished she could get Rafe alone. But there would be
time enough for that later. She somehow felt this was a beginning, and
a monumental beginning at that. It was fitting that it should have
occurred in such style. There were all the personal invitations, the
car and driver, and now a party to celebrate their meeting, even if
that hadn't been the original intention.

They went in to dinner shortly afterward, Rafe holding out
his arm in a courtly manner for Lacey, As she leaned on him, steadying
herself on her heels, she looked up at his face. He was just the right
height when she was in heels. He'd be just the right height when she
was barefoot, too, making her feel womanly.

"George's wife warned me you might show up in chaps and
boots," she told him. "I'm not surprised to see you wearing spurs
tonight."

"I hope you don't mind, but I guess the military is
something that will never fully let go of me. Of course tonight I have
to play the role of cavalry officer, just to keep up the image."

She nodded. It was another sign of his flair.

What was he like behind the boots and spurs and the
decorations gracing his chest?

Whatever the answer, she knew the discovery would be
exciting. It seemed like anything but a boring prospect for the next
few weeks, if, as she now sincerely hoped, he continued to call her
after tonight.

She smiled up at him and whispered, "Thanks for inviting
me here tonight."

"My pleasure," he answered. "I'm glad you could come."

The dinner conversation gave Lacey further revelations
about Rafe Chancellor. As the wine flowed and the meal progressed,
different men rose from their seats to toast and make speeches.
Reminiscences were recalled, stories about close calls in Vietnam and
humorous anecdotes about life on military posts held Lacey spellbound
and produced tears of laughter in her eyes. She found herself hanging
on every word. She propped her elbows on the table as she leaned
forward with interest, absorbing all of this background information on
her date.

How many women, she asked herself, were given references
and resume's for men who wanted to date them? How many people were
given such privileged insights into such serious aspects of another
person's past on the first date? How many people ever had the
opportunity to meet a living legend?

She had been in Rafe's company briefly only once before,
but through his friends and acquaintances she felt she knew him better
than many married couples knew their spouses. It was a good sign too
that she liked his friends; but as revealing as everyone had been with
her in describing Rafe Chancellor, she felt they each knew only the tip
of the iceberg. She felt a wealth of warmth stored within him. She
liked his humor and his bravado and his bold, offbeat style.

Dinner went on pleasantly for a couple of hours. Lacey was
content, yet she sensed Rafe's restlessness beside her. As pleasant as
his friends were, she wanted to be alone with him, to ask him questions
that didn't have anything to do with Vietnam. She wanted to feel his
arms close around her and to taste more of the affection she sensed he
was eager to give her. He appeared to be a touching person, in the way
he had touched her shoulder, patted her hand, looked for small excuses,
like passing the salt and pepper shakers, to brush hands with her. She
wanted to touch him back, without the U.S. Cavalry looking on.

Eventually the party began breaking up. Rafe and Lacey
were the last to leave; she was surprised when Bob left without them.
"Aren't we going home in your 1933 Chevy?" she asked.

He shook his head as he escorted her ahead of him out of
the Officers' Club. "I have the other car."

"I had a wonderful time," she said as they walked out into
the parking lot. "Thank you again for having me with you."

"Don't tell me you're ready to go home."

"No, not necessarily," she answered hesitantly. She wasn't
ready to go to his home, but she didn't want to leave him yet either.
There was so much more she wanted to tell him, so much more she wanted
to ask.

"Because the evening is still young and I'm not ready to
take you home," he told her, taking her hand and stopping in the middle
of the parking lot. "Thank you for being my date for the evening," he
said, saluting her, then taking her hand and bringing it to his lips.
"May I kiss you on the cheek?"

She smiled. He had already done that this evening when
they had met for the first official time. "I suppose so," she said,
grinning, and then giggled as their noses bumped. She wasn't used to
being kissed on the cheek and wasn't quite certain how to position her
face in relation to his.
Leave it to Rafe
, she
thought, sighing against him as he kissed first one cheek and then the
other.
He'll find a way
.

He pulled her gently into his arms and started dancing
with her in the parking lot. Lacey was entranced. She had never met a
more romantic man. He found music in the stars; his blood beat to the
rhythm. He was a smooth dancer.
Naturally
, her
mind added. Their bodies fit nicely together.

"I hope you don't think I'm too forward," he said to her,
his cheek light against hers as he turned with her in a sensuous, slow
step.

"I don't," she answered. "You've been wonderful. You know
you captured my imagination."
And you're now slowly working
on lassoing my heart
, she thought.

"Would you like to go dancing?" he asked.

"You mean somewhere other than in the parking lot?"

"Uhm-hm," he said, his lips against her ear as he kissed
her cheek again and continued to hold her close against him.

They did fit together well, she thought, just the way she
had known they would. "That would be nice," she said, knowing whatever
they did, it was too early to let go of him after finally finding him.

He put his arm around her shoulder and turned to walk with
her toward a strange-looking low-slung automobile.

"Whatever kind of car is this?" she asked when he opened
the passenger door and held it for her to slip inside. "Not another
antique, is it?" It smelled new. It also smelled expensive.

"It's an Excalibur," he told her, and slammed the door.

She ran her hand over the rich upholstery and stretched
her legs in the comfortable space in front of her. Just like everything
else she was learning about him, it figured that he wouldn't have an
ordinary car like most mortals. He'd have something with flair and
style. Everything about him would stand out from the
crowd—from his height to the kind of car he drove.

He climbed in beside her and looked across at her. "You're
some kind of lady."

"Me?" she said, laughing. He was some kind of man. "I
haven't done anything. You're the one."

He shook his head. "You're a neat lady. I'm sure glad
George told me about you."

"I'm glad too," she said, her grin widening. "Maybe I
should send him flowers."

He looked at her for a long time as if stunned by the
starlight. "You have to understand. I love women. I love the affection
of a woman. And I'd like to be your friend and lover. But right now I'd
settle for just being your friend. If you'll let me."

Lacey grinned. "I'd like that very much," she answered,
growing hot just at the thought of being this man's lover. She already
felt as if they had been friends for years. She wanted to reach out and
touch him as much as he seemed to want the same with her.

"I hope you don't think I'm being too forward," he said
again. "But you're a neat lady and I like your company."

"Thank you," she said. "I'm enjoying being with you too.
And I like being affectionate, as long as it's not misinterpreted."

He reached out and touched her hand. "I don't want you to
feel that if I touch you or hold you, then you have to feel obligated
to do anything else. You're your own person, and whatever affection
you'd like to give back to me, I'll be happy to accept. We'll go by
your rules."

She blinked, awed. No man had ever spoken to her so
openly. That was what struck her as so unique about Rafe; he didn't
play games with her. He was attracted to her, he was telling her how
much he wanted to make love to her, but he was telling her it would be
on her terms and when she was ready. Maybe this was some kind of new
male strategy, because she was ready now, but she wasn't going to tell
him that.

"Thank you," she said, and leaned forward, hugging him. He
held her as if they were parting in preparation for a lengthy journey
after knowing each other for a long time instead of just having found
one another. Could it have been as recently as tonight?

He held her for a long while. She felt his breathing,
erratic, excited, and then realized her own reactions were just as
crazy. She smiled as he kissed her cheeks again; she had never met a
more tender man.

He let her go, but looked at her as if he wasn't convinced
she was sitting in his front seat where he could reach out and touch
her warm body. He turned and started the car, easing it out of the
parking lot and into the main road.

"You won't mind if we go by my house first?" he asked as
they left the Air Force base and headed along the Back Bay drive. "If
we're going dancing I need to change out of this uniform."