She blushed. It was ridiculous. One kiss. One major steamy kiss didn’t mean anything. It was her birthday, she could indulge in steamy kisses with her male friends if she wanted. “Yes. He’s a nice guy, and he doesn’t know many people, so be nice to him.”

  “The word angel will not pass my lips,” Ruby promised with an evil smirk.

  “Are you bringing Marvin?”

  The evil smirk intensified. “Oh, yeah.”

  Kate arrived home with just enough time to shower and change. As she got out of her car, Dean came out his door and jogged down the steps with a courier envelope.

  “For you,” he said.

  “Thanks.” She looked at the envelope and not at Dean. She felt ridiculously shy after their passionate embrace in her kitchen earlier.

  “Have a good day at work?”

  “Yes. It was great.” She glanced up at him and she could have sworn he knew damn well she was feeling shy and confused. There was an extra twinkle behind his glasses that looked suspiciously like humor.

  “Can you be ready in half an hour?”

  “Of course.”

  She took her envelope into her own suite. Who would send something to her by courier? She glanced at the shipping slip and felt sickness in the pit of her stomach.

  It was from Brian.

  If she were smart, she’d toss the envelope in the trash unopened, or at least leave it until tomorrow to open. She sighed. If she were smart, she never would have trusted the man in the first place. Her curiosity overcoming her common sense, and not for the first time, she opened the envelope.

  Inside was a birthday card. She tapped it against her hand, then slit it open. Nothing mushy, thank goodness. It was the sort of card you’d send to an acquaintance. Or a client she thought, as she read the generic greeting on the front. She opened the card and blinked. There was a check inside. For five hundred bucks. There was also a folded, typewritten note.

  Dear Kate,

  I’m so sorry. What I did was wrong. I’m trying to make amends. I can’t give you the money back all at once, but I’m going to send you a minimum of five hundred dollars a month, and more if I can. I’m paying you the same interest you would have got on your CD.

  I got into a bad place and what I did was wrong.

  I hope some day you’ll be able to forgive me.

  There was no closing salutation, just his name scrawled in black ink. Brian.

  Well, she thought cynically, if he kept his word it would take him eighteen months to pay her back. Still, it was a start. She hoped he did keep his word, for his own sake as much as hers.

  She’d closed her account with Brian’s bank the Monday morning after she found out what he’d done and moved her money to a rival institution where no one but no one was getting her power of attorney.

  The five hundred was a hint Brian hadn’t been completely amoral. That was a start.

  She showered, did her hair and makeup with a pleasant sense of anticipation. She loved parties, and when they were for her, they were extra special. She tried to tell herself, as she slipped her new earrings back into her lobes, that the exciting kiss this morning, from a most surprising source, had nothing to do with the bubbles of excitement racing through her system.

  But she couldn’t stop the thoughts that had teased her all day. Dean didn’t kiss like an amateur, or a nerd, or a geek who loved computers more than women.

  He kissed like a man who’d been put on earth to please women. She bit back a smile. A man who could kiss like that left a girl wondering what else he was good at.

  When she opened her underwear drawer, she paused, and then, with a delicious thrill of excitement, walked to her closet and reached for the gift box Dean had left for her in the laundry room that day. She eased open the camisole she’d never yet worn and decided the time had come to christen the silk garment.

  It felt smooth as, well, silk as she slipped it over her head and found it fit perfectly. Unable to resist a peek in the mirror, she thought Dean couldn’t have chosen better. The color brought out the creaminess of her skin and didn’t clash with the reddish-brown of her hair.

  And it was so darned elegant, she felt like a princess. One day, she thought, she’d buy herself some panties to match. In the meantime, she slipped into a pair of beige satin-and-lace ones that sort of went with the camisole—the way a street urchin went with royalty.

  With a shrug, she slipped into her new dress and heels, happy at least that her expensive new outfit didn’t let down the camisole, and prepared to let the evening take its course. After all, a birthday was made for surprises.

  When Dean knocked on her door right on time, she was vaguely disappointed not to be more surprised. Why, since her feelings for him seemed to have undergone a change, did she suddenly expect his appearance to alter?

  It hadn’t.

  He looked the same. His glasses still shielded his beautiful eyes, the baseball cap still hung low, and his shoulders slouched. His shirt would make a Hawaiian sit up and take notice, but it wasn’t the worst of his collection, at least. And he wore a pair of nice khaki colored slacks and decent loafers, at least.

  He looked her up and down, long and slow, before saying, “Wow” in a tone that made her new dress worth every penny. “You look more beautiful than I’ve ever seen you.”

  She smiled back at him. “I thought you said you don’t need those glasses all the time.”

  “I need them for driving,” he said. Then shot her a look that had her stomach jumping. “I’ll take them off later. I promise.”

  Later? She didn’t know about later. She’d just have to see where the evening went.

  As they drove to the restaurant, she filled Dean in on everyone who’d be there and he listened intently.

  “I think I’ve got it.” He fished into his pocket when they pulled into the parking lot and out came a small black box with buttons.

  “Let me just program all this into my pocket notebook. I can run into the bathroom and study if I get lost.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” She jerked her head in the direction of the little box. “You can store notes there?”

  He glanced at her in surprise. “Haven’t you ever used a PDA?”

  “No. Beauty consulting is pretty low tech. You don’t have to go to MIT to mix perm solutions.” She hated it when people made her feel stupid. For such a smart guy, Dean didn’t usually make her feel ignorant.

  “I don’t know. You might find this useful. You could program all your appointments, track your billing, even write little memos about your clients. Like what products they like, or personal stuff about them that would make them think you really listen to them when they yack away in the chair.”

  “I do listen to them. I don’t need a machine so I can pretend I’m interested in my customers. So keep your fancy gadget and your magic machine that takes the place of being a real human being. I’m perfectly happy being an ignorant hairdresser.”

  Even though she wouldn’t look at him, she felt his eyes staring at her.

  When his hand reached out to touch hers she wanted to smack it away. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean that the way it came out.” Even through her annoyance, she felt the warmth from his hand.

  She huffed out a breath. “I’m sorry. I get a little touchy sometimes when I think people are talking down to me.”

  “That’s quite a big chip you have on your shoulder about your lack of education, isn’t it?”

  He was her friend and friends were honest. “Yes. I guess.”

  “There are different kinds of education, Kate. You’ve got a kind of wisdom about you that all the schooling in the world won’t teach.”

  The way he said it she could tell he meant the words and was flattered to her toes. “Thanks.”

  When they arrived at the restaurant, there was a long table already set up and about half of her friends were seated. A chair with a bright pink Happy Birthday balloon floating on its own helium high, paired with a matching silver Princess balloon, made her chuckle. Her friends weren’t into understatement.

  She received kisses and hugs, felt herself pushed into the Happy Birthday chair and only then did she turn to introduce her date for the evening. It took her a second to find him. Dean had wedged himself into the last seat, which put him in a dimly lit corner.

  As she watched, he glanced around the crowded restaurant as though searching for people he knew. Then, to her immense relief, he pulled off his baseball cap.

  She introduced him around the table and he shook hands with everyone. Ruby, dragging Marvin with her, sat beside him, for which Kate was grateful. No one could be shy when Ruby was around.

  10

  “DID YOU have a good time?” Kate asked Dean as he drove them home.

  “Yeah. I did. Your friends are a lot like you.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  He laughed. “It’s a very good thing.” He glanced over at her. “Fun, upbeat, the kind of people who make the best of things.”

  “Oh. That’s nice.”

  They pulled into the driveway and the jumpiness in her stomach returned. All night they’d been exchanging glances across the table, and when they’d gone back to Ruby’s place for cake he’d suddenly lost the shyness he’d exhibited at the restaurant and become easy and talkative. But the glances that were for her alone had continued.

  Now that they were home, she didn’t know what to do. They got out of his car and she turned to him, wishing she could see behind the lenses to his eyes, wishing he’d do something, say something. But, she realized, he was leaving the next move to her.

  “Would you like to come in for coffee?” she asked, as though they hadn’t already had plenty of caffeine at Ruby’s place.

  He put his hands on her shoulders and she experienced the same startled thrill she had this morning. “If I come in for coffee,” he said, “it will be breakfast coffee.”

  Her breath kind of whooshed in and out fast. “I know,” she said, finally committing herself.

  “Kate…” The harsh urgency of the voice spoke to her woman’s heart. He pulled her to him and kissed her, hard and possessively.

  “Yes. Oh, yes,” she murmured back. She wrapped her arms around him and leaned in, kissing him back. After a while, her eyelids drifted open and she was staring into luminous gray eyes that told her of need and love and urgency.

  She felt as though he had always been waiting for her and she for him. Her eyes locked on his, answering all the questions that had plagued her throughout the day with the inevitable answer.

  “Yes,” she whispered again, throwing herself back into kissing him, wanting him so badly she was rubbing her body against his in a very unsubtle invitation.

  “We’d better get inside,” he said on a shaky laugh, “before we break some kind of law.”

  She laughed back, amazed that now she’d made her decision, the butterflies had fled her stomach. No nerves now, only anticipation.

  There was something about the way this man kissed her that made her think tonight would be special. Taking his hand, she led him inside her apartment and straight to her bedroom where she flipped on the bedside lamp. A pool of soft light cast a romantic glow as he turned her to him and took her mouth once again.

  Excitement was beginning to build insistently. He traced his fingertips up the sides of her thighs, raising the hem of her dress as he did so, and the caress went straight through her.

  Feeling cocky and in control—it was her birthday, after all—she pushed him to her bed and he obligingly fell onto his back and toed his shoes off so they plopped quietly to the carpet.

  Enjoying herself, and this last present she’d be unwrapping, she climbed over top, so her knees were on either side of his thighs.

  The first thing she did was carefully remove his glasses and lay them on her night table. Then she leaned forward, always watching those eyes. Her hair fell around them and he made a sound of pleasure, but obligingly didn’t move. When their lips met, it was as surprising a jolt as the first kiss. She wondered if he’d always surprise her.

  He lay still beneath her, following her lead as she deepened the kiss slowly, tentatively letting her tongue trace his full bottom lip from tilted corner to tilted corner before dipping inside. He groaned as her tongue touched his. She could feel the power of his restraint, as he lay quiescent, moving only his lips and tongue against hers.

  Then as though unable to stop himself he raised his hands and dug them deep into her hair.

  “I love your hair,” he said.

  Her own hands ached with the need to touch him. She reached under his shirt, dragging it upward to rub her palms over the rough hair on his chest, seeking and finding his nipples which hardened instantly. Her breasts came to taut attention in response. Dean traced the curls that framed her face. She trembled, and where she’d felt so in control a moment ago she now felt the opposite.

  He caressed her slowly, his touch soft as a whisper, letting his hands roam her body, through the silk of the dress until she was so turned on she was panting, and even the thin layers of silk felt like armor.

  “Sit up,” he said at last, his voice gravelly with lust. She did and raised her hands, so he could ease the dress over her head.

  She heard him make a tiny sound. It sounded like the word yes, but it was so soft it could have been a sigh. She was glad she’d chosen to wear the silk camisole she’d once thrown at him.

  His eyes seemed to burn through the silk and her breasts caught the flame.

  She moved to strip the camisole away but he stopped her hands.

  “Leave it on,” he whispered hoarsely. One of his hands came forward to touch her through the silk. His hand was not quite steady. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve dreamed of seeing that camisole on you?”

  While he stroked her through the silk and then slipped his hands underneath to caress her flesh, she unbuttoned his shirt, taking as much time as he had.

  She opened one button, then leaned forward to touch her tongue to the part of his chest she’d exposed. She could feel the torment she was causing, and smiled at her power. When she got to the bottom of the shirt, she zipped open his slacks and began easing them off his hips.

  Cherub after cherub smiled cheekily at her. She looked up to catch the reflection of her laughter in his eyes.

  “I never imagined I’d see you in these,” she whispered as she removed his pants completely, leaving him naked but for the cherub bikinis.

  “I couldn’t stop fantasizing about you in this.” He touched the camisole as he spoke, then pulled her into his arms for a kiss that left her breathless.

  Still they moved slowly, treasuring each touch, each whisper. His hands were on her back, one hand sliding up the silk while the other clung to her hair.

  His hungry eyes burned over her face, and when he brought his lips down on hers they were no longer gentle. His mouth plundered, demanded and received her response. He kissed every bit of her he could reach without taking off the camisole, licking and nibbling the swells of her breasts, her shoulders and her belly where the silk and her panties had parted ways, leaving a gap of flesh.

  “Oh,” he groaned, “I want to make love to you in this, but I want to see you.” He sounded so desperate to have her, so eager that she grew hotter, enflamed by his lust which sparked her own.

  His hands moved restlessly, lifting the camisole so his mouth could follow up her belly until she raised her torso once again and he slipped the garment over her head, laying it carefully aside before reaching for the aching breasts that strained toward him.

  Kate gasped when he touched her, watching with a mixture of shyness and delight as his eyes devoured her. With just a fingertip he traced the contours of her breasts. Did he know he was tormenting her? Her nipples were on fire, but he ignored them and brought his mouth back to hers.

  She was trembling with excitement and desire, her body a mass of needy nerve endings, each yelling to be appeased. Dean didn’t kiss like a computer geek; he kissed like a seasoned professional. And she had a sneaking suspicion it was deliberate provocation on his part to have abandoned her breasts before he even got to the good part.

  At last his lips left her mouth and trailed a slow wet path to her chest. He licked her breasts from the bottom up, as though they were ice-cream sundaes and he was leaving the cherry on top for last.

  She was panting helplessly when he finally popped a nipple in his mouth. She grabbed the back of his head and cried out, holding him against her while his tongue did delicious things to her tender flesh. She felt a trembling begin deep inside her body and realized she was about to lose control completely.

  Restless, her hands clutched at his fine-muscled back, and down over the hard round buttocks. She pulled them toward her, reveling in the hard shaft straining against the fabric of his cherub bikinis. She yanked at the waistband, dragging them down over his hips, and he pulled them the rest of the way.

  He whispered, in a voice soft with reverence. “You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

  “So are you,” she whispered back. The odd thing was that it was true. What that guy had been hiding under his geek-boarder wardrobe was a crime. His habitual slouch hid the nicest pair of shoulders she’d ever seen. Underneath those tacky shirts he’d stashed a chest fit and bronzed, abs that would have a sculptor running for marble and a chisel, while the too-big boarder shorts hung on lean hips that currently bracketed a breathtakingly impressive erection.

  He took a deep breath, let his trembling finger trace the line of her temple. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, seeking the truth in her eyes.

  She smiled, amazed at how right this felt. “Yes.”

  He nodded, and she knew the grateful relief in the smile that lit up his face. Digging into the pocket of his pants for protection, he sheathed himself in record time. So, she thought, he’d been thinking they’d end the evening the same way she had.

  He slipped off her panties and lay beside her then, kissing her with passion and patience while his hands learned her body. He trailed his hands down her belly and gently opened her thighs. She cried out when he touched her.