Water Witch (24 page)

“Which translates,” she said with a wry twist of her lips, “to I wouldn’t be caught dead driving such a thing.’“

“Now, I didn’t say that.”

She laughed. “You didn’t have to. I’ll bet you drive a Mercedes.” She squinted at him for a moment. “Brown.”

“Gray.”

“Close enough.”

He seemed surprised. “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess.” She could spot the type at fifty paces. Her old Mercedes had been beige. She much preferred Buttercup.

“I know you’re in a hurry, but could you explain Gram’s sudden interest in racetracks and RVs? I’m concerned.”

“Well, Pirate’s Pleasure is a racehorse Aunt Olivia and Aunt Martha want to buy, and—”

“A racehorse?” The words erupted from him. Looking at her with a pained expression as if his shorts were too tight, he mashed his fingers against the tail of his silk tie. “What the hell would two old ladies do with a racehorse?”

If he was upset about the racehorse, he’d probably blow a gasket over the RV and the treasure-hunting scheme. She’d wait and let his grandmother explain that one. Tess glanced down at her watch.

“Yikes, it’s almost nine o’clock. Becky will kill me if the delivery wagon isn’t ready.” Giving him a bright smile, she scrambled into the car and fluttered her fingers. “Bye. I’ve got to run. Be sure and make yourself at home. I’ll see you later,” she called out as she roared away from the curb.

*    *    *

Just as Janice and Sue came in to work the evening shift at the Mermaid, Ivan phoned. He reported that Dan was reading in the study, and that Hook and the ladies had phoned from Louisiana. Thrilled to hear that Dan was in town, they promised to be back in time for dinner. Tess peeled off her stained apron and hurried to the house on Broadway.

After she had bathed, Tess slipped on a long tube dress slit from left ankle to knee and turned the convertible turtleneck into an off-the-shoulder band. Though she considered this cotton knit dress one of her most comfortable, the bold purple and teal-swirled fabric also hugged every curve of her body. And a good body it was, she admitted as she surveyed herself critically in the full-length mirror. Especially since she’d stopped spending her days behind a desk.

She spritzed a bit of scent on her throat and brushed her short hair back into full gleaming waves. She even took time to add a touch of exotic eye shadow and a dash of lipstick. She told herself it wasn’t for Daniel Friday, but, as she studied her reflection in the mirror, she kept trying to picture herself in his eyes. Her chin lifted and her shoulders drew back just a tad.

With a wry smile, she cocked an eyebrow and said, “Maybe I’ll give you a little something to remember on those cold nights in Pittsburgh, Mr. Friday.”

She added a few bangle bracelets, and dangling peacock feather earrings that brushed against her bare skin, then slipped into Moroccan sandals and went downstairs.

Ivan and Dan were having drinks in the large formal drawing room. Tess entered the room and smiled as she listened to the booming voice of the older man regaling Dan with one of his exploits. Ivan, who dearly loved a fresh audience, was perched on the edge of a gilt chair, gesturing broadly. He looked totally out of place in the high-ceilinged room with its Aubusson carpet, gold chandelier, and rococo revival furniture. The beefy Bulgarian wore a Greek fisherman’s sweater, his latest sartorial passion, stretched over his thick chest.

Dan, in his navy blazer, seemed more comfortable on the elaborately carved settee where he sat listening politely to Ivan’s tale. He had on a fresh shirt and another conservative tie, the spares, no doubt, which every good executive carried in his trusty leather briefcase. Before either of the men was aware of her presence, she took a moment to study Dan and wondered what he would look like in a fisherman’s sweater with that fantastic hair of his a little mussed. Damned good, she suspected.

“Have another Shrimp Puff Ole,” Ivan said as he thrust the silver tray at Daniel. When Dan declined, Ivan drew his shaggy brows together and asked, “Too spicy, you think?” Before he received an answer, Ivan caught sight of Tess. “Ah, my lovely Tess, come taste my shrimp puffs. I make a new creation from the beautiful shrimps I catch today with my own hands. Here,” he boomed, thrusting the tray toward her. “Taste and tell me what you think.”

Tess winked at Dan, who had stood when she entered, and popped one of the delicate golden morsels in her mouth. As she chewed and swallowed, her eyes widened and glazed with tears. “Good Lord, Ivan,” she gasped.

“A little too hot maybe?”

“A little hot? It would take the hair off a dog.”

Ivan roared with laughter. “Just like my Olivia. She never spares my feelings when I make a disaster. I will put these down the disposal.” He started out the door, tray in hand. “Take the hair off a dog. I like that.” His robust laughter echoed behind as he left.

“Is he always so . . .”

  “Gregarious? Blustery? Larger-than-life?” Tess supplied, laughing. “Always. But he’s really a dear, a teddy bear underneath all that bravado.” With Dan following, she crossed to the drink cart and mixed a wine spritzer for herself. “He rarely ever prepares anything that isn’t delicious, but when he has a failure, it’s a doozy. How many of those fireballs did he foist off on you?”

“I only had a couple.”

“And you managed to keep a straight face? You must have an insulated digestive system.”

“I think the Scotch dulled the pain.” He laughed and Tess was glad to see the more relaxed side of him peeking through.

He seemed a little looser this evening, Tess thought. She sipped her spritzer and assessed the tall man beside her with frank admiration. Oh, he had a long way to go before all the starch was out of his collar, but the blue-gray eyes perusing her were a bit less strained, the frown lines softer.

“You look lovely this evening. I like your plumage.” His hand rested on her bare shoulder as his finger ruffled the edge of her feathered earring.

The sensation of his skin on hers, the message in his eyes, made the hairs on the side of her neck stand up, and the drink in her mouth turned to warm foam. And her silly knees started doing their own thing. Part of her wanted to purr and rub her cheek against his hand; the rest of her wanted to offer her other shoulder to be stroked. It was a darned shame he lived half a country away. She had a feeling about staid Daniel Friday. A powerful feeling.

She swallowed. “Thanks,” she said, stepping out of his reach before she became addicted to his touch. How could a man affect her so? She’d been engaged to David Lloyd for nearly three years, and not once had her knees wobbled or the hairs on her neck prickled. “What kind of business are you in back in Pittsburgh?”

“Have you ever heard of Friday Elevators?”

“Of course.” She started to say that, until two years ago, she could have quoted from their prospectus, or she could have recalled that the company had almost gone under some years ago but had shown a steady growth for about the last ten. Instead, she bit her lip.

“You’re not going to say anything about business being up and down, are you?”

Tess laughed. “No, do you get that a lot?”

“All the time.”

Ivan lumbered in with another tray, which Dan eyed suspiciously, “No, no.” The chef waved a massive hand. “No more jalapeno juice. Only a little cream cheese with toasted almonds and very delicate herbs. Delicious, I promise. And the dinner I fix tonight, ahhh. If Hook doesn’t get my Olivia back to taste it, I’ll skewer that big ox. They should be home by now. Do you think they have trouble? Ach,” he said, slapping his forehead with the heel of his hand, “I should never have trusted my love’s safekeeping to that criminal.”

“Now Ivan,” Tess said, “you know that Hook would guard the ladies with his life.”

“So you say, but I”—he patted his chest—”Ivan Petkov, say: Never trust a man with a gold tooth.”

Noticing Dan’s frown, Tess said, “Don’t mind Ivan. He and Hook have been feuding for fifteen years. Hook is completely reliable and devoted to my aunt.”

“Bah! He fools her to keep from going back to prison.”

Daniel choked on his Scotch. “Prison?” He could feel new bile added to the fire piercing his gut. What kind of a madhouse was Gram living in? Maybe Kathy was right to be concerned.

Tess glared at Ivan, turned to Dan, and waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, that was a long time ago.”

“What was he in prison for?” Dan tried to make his question casual, but he could feel the blood draining from his face.

Tess shrugged. “The first time he was in a bar fight. Manslaughter, I think it was. He was very young. Barely eighteen.”

  “The first time? There’s more?”

She sighed and glared at Ivan again. “The second time was for armed robbery.”

“My God!” Daniel felt a searing stab in his solar plexus and he clutched his hand to his stomach.

*    *    *

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