Rescuing Diana (10 page)

“It sure was,” he agreed. “And no, I’m not married. Never even came close.”

“Why?” she asked, curious.

He shrugged. “Just never found the right woman. Why aren’t you married?”

She shrugged. “Too busy, I guess.”

“Same here.”

Grinning, she said, “Taking a page from your book, what about fantasies, hopes, and aspirations?”

He grinned back. “My fantasies couldn’t get much better than last night. My hope is that there will be more nights like that. My aspiration is to figure out how to change the oil in my car without getting the stuff all over me.”

She laughed at the last. She refused to think about the first two. “Are you originally from here?” she asked in an attempt to change the subject.

He shook his head. “Seattle. My family is still there. I moved here about five years ago to work for a big architectural firm. Then John and I struck out on our own.”

She couldn’t have asked for a better opening.
“Oh!” she said very innocently. “Seattle is where your brother’s software company is. Starbright, right?”

“Starlight,” he corrected her in an amused voice. “We sound like we’re rhyming sentences.”

“I have to admit I’m a little curious about your brother, seeing as we’re in the same line of work. Has his company been in business long?”

Before Adam could answer, a waitress, different from the one who had taken their order, arrived with their drinks. A very attractive waitress with blond streaks in her dark, windblown-styled hair. She bent especially low when she placed Adam’s Scotch and water on the wicker table. Diana couldn’t see the waitress’s face, but somehow the woman’s whole body seemed to exude sexual invitation.

Feeling like a struggling rookie surrounded by superstars, Diana glanced down at her sweater and old navy skirt. The silver snowflakes that had distinguished the sweater from the others on the rack now looked childish, and to her critical eyes the skirt showed its age. Her navy pumps, with their short, squat heels, were so damned sensible too.

The waitress left with a last swish of her sarong. Diana cringed, wondering how she could have been so stupid as to think her own appearance was the least sophisticated or womanly. Her attention had been focused on the waitress, but she could well imagine Adam’s expression as he’d received a close-up view of the low-cut sarong. She grabbed her glass of white wine and took a large gulp of the tangy liquid.

“I foresee another rescue in the works if you keep drinking like that,” Adam said gently.

She carefully set the glass back down on the table. First the redhead, then the waitress, and now this! She sighed and absently adjusted her glasses on the bridge of her nose. She had a long way to go before she’d be a master in the game of sophistication. There were mazes and obstacles that she just hadn’t anticipated. Still, she did have one advantage, for which she was very grateful. She knew exactly what Adam’s game was. And that, she decided, made them just about even.

“Diana?”

She raised her head and looked at Adam, at his tender expression. He really was quite good at faking it, she thought.

“I get the feeling something’s bothering you,” he continued, leaning forward. “If it’s last night, then I think we should talk.”

Frantically she searched for an adroit way to turn the topic of conversation to something neutral. Of all the darned times to be out of sophistication! Swallowing back a lump of desperation, she said, “I’m not uncomfortable about … anything, Adam. I did some shopping this afternoon, and I’m a little tired from that. That’s probably what you’re noticing.”

He frowned at her, and Diana knew she hadn’t fooled him. Her heart pounding, she forced herself to say, “Last night was just … last night. There’s really nothing to discuss. And especially not
here
.”

“There’s plenty to discuss,” he countered. “But you’re right about not here. Finish your drink, and we’ll go to my place—”

“Honestly, I’m fine,” she broke in, horrified by his suggestion. “Quite happy, in fact. Brimming with a healthy attitude about private lessons, thanks to you—”

“Well, well. If it isn’t Princess Di and her bodyguard.”

Startled by the unexpected interruption, Diana glanced up to discover Jim Griegson standing next to their table, a drink in his hand. From the glazed look in his eyes and the sour smile playing on his lips, she had the feeling this drink wasn’t his first of the evening. She nearly groaned aloud when she remembered the last time she’d seen the
CompuWorld
reporter—and his boardroom/bedroom comment in his last column. She only hoped he had calmed down about Adam’s having pushed him into the buffet table. While Jim was the last person she might want to see, she did have to admit that his appearance was very timely. She’d been babbling herself into disaster.

“This is a private conversation,” Adam said curtly.

“I see you’re still the great protector. Roberts,” Griegson said in a sarcastic voice.

“I’m really sorry about what happened at the reception, Jim,” Diana said, feeling that if she didn’t dispel the thick tension between the two men, there would be another disaster. “And so is Adam. Why don’t you join us? We owe you amends.”

“No, thanks,” Griegson said, then smirked. “I wouldn’t lower myself to hoist one with the
Virgin
Queen and her consort.”

Before Diana could even be shocked by the crude words, Adam exploded out of his chair. Griegson
yelped in fright, and jumped away from the fist that never materialized. He crashed into the bamboo furniture behind him and went down in a tangle of legs, table, and chairs.

Diana blinked once in amazement.

“You owe the
lady
an apology,” Adam said in a cold voice, standing over the dazed reporter.

Realizing that Jim was too stunned to apologize for anything, Diana rose unsteadily to her feet. The other patrons were staring in shock. She still found it hard to believe that Jim had been insulting both her and Adam one moment, and was sprawled on the floor the next. Touching Adam’s arm to get his attention, she said quietly, “I do believe you’ve delivered our usual exit signal, Adam.”

He turned, a furious expression still on his face, then visibly relaxed. With a last disparaging glance at Griegson, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of bills. Tossing them on the table, he said to Diana, “Time to go.”

“No kidding,” she muttered as he took her elbow. “You shouldn’t have scared him like that, Adam. Jim was just drunk, and his pride was probably bruised from what happened the last time.”

“Too bad,” Adam said, guiding her away from the wreckage. “Anyway, the guy needed a quick lesson in chivalry. I don’t suppose you’d like to try for dinner in the restaurant,” he added wryly.

“After what you just paid for the drinks, I don’t think you can afford the price of dinner.”

A bartender suddenly stood in their path. With an overwhelming sense of déjà vu, Diana rolled her eyes heavenward and muttered under her
breath, “Happens every time.” More loudly she said, “I’m terribly sorry about the mess, sir. My friend, here, was just showing me how he knocked out his opponent and won the bronze medal at the … Vienna Olympics. Unfortunately, that poor man was passing by during the instant replay. It was a terrible mistake, and we’re sorry for any inconvenience it might have caused to your beautiful establishment.”

“Real sorry, Mac,” Adam said, and Diana forced herself not to react to his suddenly acquired Brooklyn accent.

“I believe,” she added, “you’ll find more than adequate compensation on the table.”

“Just as long as you’re goin’ and not comin’ back,” the bartender said.

Grateful that he was letting them off without more fuss, Diana nodded and slipped around him. Adam was right behind her.

“Thanks for the rescue,” he whispered in her ear when they reached the elevators.

“I owed you one,” she said, smiling at him.

She couldn’t help feeling that he really did have a streak of honor, despite the sneaky trick he was pulling on her. He had certainly rushed in to defend her against Jim’s nasty remark.

The elevator arrived, and to her surprise Adam began to laugh as soon as they’d stepped inside and the elevator started down to the lobby.

“Vienna Olympics!” he gasped out as she stared at him in puzzlement.

“What was wrong with Vienna Olympics?” she asked.

“The Olympics have never been in Vienna, Diana.”

She groaned. “I hope the bartender didn’t know that.”

“He probably did, but he was too glad to see our backsides heading out the door to call you a liar.” He patted her bottom, then leaned over and kissed her on the mouth. “And a beautiful backside you’ve got, too.”

She felt the heat rising to her cheeks and resisted the urge to pat his backside in return.

“Are you sure you won’t stay in town and have dinner, Diana?”

Even as he asked the question, Adam already knew the answer.

Diana was looking across the roof of her car to the pink and orange streaks of the sunset. Then her gaze returned to his, and he could easily read the wistful expression in her eyes.

“Much as I would like to, I should be going,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

He did, but he knew it was probably for the best. After the near-brawl with Griegson, he didn’t trust his honor. Half of him wanted to wipe away the reporter’s insult by gently making love to her. The other half wanted to make love to her, too, but as a primitive claim of his rights as protector. Unfortunately, he knew that Diana’s emotions were confused at the moment. He’d realized it when she’d insisted on returning to the garage where her car was parked, as soon as they’d reached the
lobby of the hotel. Too much had happened too fast, and, frustrating as it was, if he wasn’t careful he could very easily drive her away. But with a little patience and gentle courtship, he’d have Diana.

“I’ll only excuse you tonight if you’ll have dinner with me tomorrow night,” he said, deciding he had the right to exert one small claim. After all, one could reap a fortune with a series of small claims just as well as with one big strike.

“Do you think we might be heading for another rescue?” she asked, grinning.

He laughed. “I’m beginning to have a real soft spot for rescues. But if we are, between us we might just manage to get through it. Want to take a chance?”

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I’m an adventurous soul. How about at Solomon Grundy’s in Berkeley? That way we can split the driving and meet there.”

He frowned, knowing she was avoiding having him pick her up at her house—and possibly not leaving afterward. Still, it was a small concession to allow her control over dinner. “Fine. Eight o’clock?”

She nodded again. He leaned forward and touched his mouth to hers. Tenderly, he played at her lips, feeling them grow pliant. But he didn’t deepen the kiss. Instead he indulged in a series of gentle caresses, each one longer than the last, until he heard her soft, helpless sounds of surrender.

He lifted his head and smiled as she opened glazed eyes. Nudging her to one side, he took her keys, then unlocked her car and helped her into
the driver’s seat. He smothered a chuckle at the confused expression on her face.

“Be careful on the way home,” he said. He gave her a hard kiss on her love-swollen mouth, then shut the car door and waved good-bye.

“Dammit!” Adam exclaimed, angrily swiping a hand through his hair. “The hotel management already approved those designs for the annex!”

John Polaski shook his head. “I know. But with the convention center less than two blocks away, they’re still afraid they’re underestimating future business.”

“But we’ve changed those designs once before for space reasons. We just can’t squeeze any more out of the site without going to a second floor, and those idiots refuse to do that because ‘it might hamper the view’ of Lake Merritt.”

“We can’t cut down on sidewalk space, either, without violating city ordinances,” John said, studying the blueprints lying on the drafting table.

“And if that’s what the hotel wants, they can take their annex elsewhere,” Adam grumbled, staring over John’s shoulder at the blueprints. “Damn thing looks like a box with holes in it.”

John chuckled. “An architect should never grouse about his own designs. Any ideas on how to keep the clients happy? And fast?”

“No, but I’d be happy to tell them where to stuff their annex—and fast. Lord, what a mess.” He slammed his hand on the table. “Damn! I don’t suppose this can wait until tomorrow, can it?”

John cleared his throat. “If we can afford their blaming us for missed construction deadlines …”

“We can’t,” Adam said flatly.

He strode over to his sleek, modern desk chair and sat down. Leaning back, he rubbed his temples and tried not to think of having to cancel his dinner with Diana. Instead he concentrated on the problem of fitting a large restaurant, private banquet rooms, and a shopping mall into the space of a telephone booth. At least if he came up with a decent idea to present to the hotel management this afternoon, he might be able to make dinner that evening.