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“The sheriff?”
“Yes. Bram and my dad checked out everything for security purposes. Since my business is expensive jewelry and a possible target for robbery, they both agreed my apartment should be inaccessible from the store. Just in case.”
“Good point. But you still have safety precautions?”
She nodded. “A security system approved by Bram and Dad. Also lots of insurance.”
“Actually, I meant your apartment,” he clarified.
“I have a separate system upstairs and lots more insurance. No need to worry your pretty head about me.” And he did have such a pretty face. But she didn’t for one minute believe he was worried about her.
She turned right at the end of the brightly lit alley and led the way up the wooden staircase on the outside of the three-story, red-brick building. At the top, she took the key ring from the pocket of her coat and unlocked the door. After flipping on the lights, she punched numbers into a keypad on the wall, waited for the all-clear beep, then closed the door.
“Home sweet home,” she said, removing her coat and hanging it on the wooden tree in the corner. “Can I take yours?”
He nodded, then shrugged out of his leather jacket and handed it to her. It was warm from his body and smelled pleasantly of cologne mixed with man.
“Thanks.” Looking around her living room, he said, “Nice place you’ve got here.”
“I like it.”
The apartment was spread out over two floors. Upstairs were three bedrooms and two baths, plenty of space for a home office and a guest room if needed. The main floor, where they now stood, was comprised of a living room, dining area off the kitchen and service porch big enough for her washer, dryer and freezer. Her sofa and matching love seat were upholstered in a floral print of green, coral and beige. A glider covered in a coordinating fabric took up a corner of the room with a brass table lamp beside it for reading.
She led the way to the kitchen through the dining room, which was decorated with an ornate oak table with the ball-and-claw feet and surrounded by four chairs. A matching hutch took up most of the one wall.
In the kitchen doorway, she stopped to flip the switch, illuminating the spotlights in the ceiling. “Can I get you something to drink? Beer? Wine? Coffee? Tea?” Me?
Please God, if there was any justice in the world she hadn’t just said that out loud.
“Beer would be great.”
“Coming right up.”
Whew! What was it about this guy that unnerved her so? Enough to invite him up to her apartment. Her personal code of conduct was three dates, minimum, before a guy got the green light to enter her personal space. She hadn’t known Dominic Rodriguez three hours and already she was breaking rules.
The refrigerator was on the far wall with a cooktop beside it. The narrow room had countertops on both sides, with a divided sink and disposal bisecting the one on the left. The window above gave her a view of the city of Black Arrow, now lit up for the night.
The heels of her low black shoes clicked on the tile as she walked to the fridge and opened the door.
She leaned over and grabbed a bottle, then straightened and shut the door. When she glanced at him, satisfaction coursed through her as his gaze quickly lifted from her backside. Then she saw an approving look steal into his eyes.
A shiver of awareness skipped up her spine, along with pleasure that he approved of what he saw. But why? She wasn’t interested in him and didn’t especially care whether or not he was interested in her. She chalked it up to ego. It wouldn’t do hers much good to catch him perusing her alphabetized spices in the rack beside the built-in oven instead. She walked the length of the kitchen to where he stood in the doorway.
“Here you go.”
Handing him the longneck, she wondered what it was about a man lazily leaning a shoulder against the wall that she found so darned masculine and appealing. He’d rolled the long sleeves of his shirt to just below his elbows, then folded his arms across his broad chest. He could be posing for an ad in a magazine. But he was no male model. He was a doctor who nipped and tucked and made people look like models.
“Thanks,” he said, saluting with the amber bottle. “Are you going to join me?”
“You wouldn’t be trying to get me drunk, would you?”
“Perish the thought. That three hundred ways to kill a man is an effective deterrent.”
“Smart man. Besides that deterrent, it’s hard for a tipsy cook to whip up a decent meal.”
Turning away from the sexy sight of him casually filling her doorway, she took a plastic-covered baking dish from the fridge and pressed buttons on the oven to preheat.
“That’s what you call ‘whipping up a meal’?”
“Sure.” She glanced to the side and tossed him a grin. “I just whipped it up this morning. Spinach-and-cheese-filled pasta with tomato sauce and herbs.”
“Sounds good.”
“It is.”
She set the timer, then threw together a salad and garlic bread. The only thing left, and she’d been putting it off because it meant breaching his space in the doorway, was setting the dining room table. Here goes nothing, she thought, gathering plates, utensils and napkins.
Sky couldn’t decide whether it was fortunate or not that she had to brush past him to get the job done. The very male scent of his cologne was unmistakable and did funny things to her stomach as she passed. If that wasn’t bad enough, she was close enough to feel the warmth of his body, making her wonder how she could have been so cold when he’d stood so very near her outside on the sidewalk just a short time ago.
She finished setting the table. “Okay, now we just have to wait until the food is heated. Want to sit in the living room? It’s about time to start digging out of that hole you got yourself in.”
“Which one was that?”
“You dig so many you can’t remember how you offend people?”
“Ordinarily, no. But since I met you—”
“To refresh your memory it was the comment about desperately needing a woman, compounded by the proposition you want to make me.”
“Ah, yes.”
Sky let him precede her into the living room. Not because she was a Martha Stewart clone concerned about her hostess reputation. She wanted him to pick a couch first so she could sit on the other one, as far away from him as possible. He chose the eight-foot sofa, so she settled herself at a right angle to him on the love seat.
“Shoot,” she said. “Why are you desperate for a woman?”
“Actually it’s your fault.”
“Don’t start in on me again,” she warned.
“Wouldn’t dream of it. But I find myself without a bride.”
“What does that specifically have to do with me? Can’t you simply move on? I did—”
“What?”
“Never mind. We’re talking about you. In your situation, the best thing is to not look back.”
“My situation means dealing with my mother. Let me give you a little background and maybe you’ll understand.” He rested his elbows on his thighs, holding the bottle in both hands between his knees.
“Okay.” She sat back and crossed her legs, trying not to notice the second in his seemingly endless repertoire of masculine poses.
“My parents emigrated from Spain when my mother was pregnant with me. My father was a doctor, studying to take his medical boards so he could start a practice in this country. But he was killed in a car accident.”
“Oh, dear. I’m so sorry.”
Sky leaned forward and put a hand on his forearm. She knew it wasn’t a recent tragedy for him, but still felt compelled to offer sympathy. For her that meant touching him. Words only conveyed so much. A reassuring squeeze did far more.
For just a moment he covered her hand with his own. It was the strangest combination of cold and heat. The feeling sizzled up her arm and she pulled her fingers from beneath his palm.
“Because my father had wanted his child to be a U.S. citizen and grow up here, my mother refused to go back to Spain even though her mother urged her to come home. She had no marketable skills, so she cleaned houses.”
“A very courageous, industrious woman.”
He nodded then took a swallow of his beer. “She put me through college and medical school, supporting us by working as a housekeeper for very wealthy families. The money was pretty good, but every spare cent went for my education. If anyone knew the value of that, it was my mom.”
“You must be grateful.”
“Yeah.” His intense, blue-eyed gaze met her own. “I owe her everything. She gave up a lot for me. The only thing she ever wanted for herself was to travel and to see the world. But she couldn’t afford trips and tuition, too.”
“She sounds like a wonderful mother.”
“If not for the sacrifices she made, I wouldn’t be where I am today.”
“I agree. But I don’t understand what that has to do with needing a woman.”
“Patience. I’m getting there.” He let out a long breath. “I worked hard to not let her down. Then I was lucky enough to catch the attention of Houston’s best plastic surgeon. He offered me a partnership and the opportunity to take over a thriving, prestigious medical practice at his retirement. My own reputation grew fast and for a while now, money hasn’t been a problem.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard there’s mega bucks in nips and tucks.”
“Who knew you could rhyme and be witty at the same time? There’s more to plastic surgery than that, but let’s save it for another conversation.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “I tried to get my mother to retire or at least let me send her on a trip. Or both.”
“And?”
“She’s very independent.” He shook his head. “She said she couldn’t have any fun until I was married and settled down.”
“Subtle,” she said wryly.
A corner of his wonderful mouth lifted for a moment. “For a long time now my mother and grandmother have made no secret of the fact that, in their opinion, I should be married.”
“Mothers are like that.”
“That’s what she said. Her exact words were that I couldn’t possibly understand. It’s a mom thing and unless I had a uterus, I would just have to take her word for it.”
Sky laughed. “I think I would like your mother. She and your grandmother must have been pretty excited when you got engaged to Shelby.”
He nodded. “A whirlwind engagement. It all happened fast, just before the holidays. I wanted to give them two gifts—the news of my engagement and a cruise to Greece.”
“Wow.” Sky felt her eyes grow wide. Not bad.
“I wanted a small wedding so we could make the arrangements quickly. Shelby agreed. The plan was to bring my grandmother over from Spain. She would accompany my mother on the trip and when they returned, we’d have the wedding.”
“What did they say when you told them it was off?”
“Nothing.”
“The woman who wished you a uterus said nothing?”
“I haven’t broken the bad news to her yet.”
“Dom, you have to break the news to her,” she said, astonished. “And your grandmother, before she makes the trip for nothing.”
“It won’t be for nothing if things work out the way I hope. I want to send my abuelita—my grandmother—on the cruise, too. My mom would love it. And my abuelita hasn’t traveled much, either.”
“Now that you won’t be settled down and married, will they go?” Sky asked.
“If I can get through the party, they won’t find out.”
“What party?”
“The one to announce my engagement. My mother wouldn’t take no for an answer. She insisted her only son have a formal engagement party before she leaves on her cruise.”
“That’s dishonest. You have to tell them the truth. Surely if they know how much it means to you for them to have fun—”
“That’s just it. Even if I can convince them to go under the circumstances, my mother’s first trip will start out on a downer. Because of you,” he added pointedly.
“Me?” She heard the timer go off in the kitchen and stood. “Thank your lucky stars you were just saved by the bell.”
Instead of looking angry or off balance, he merely appeared confident and self-satisfied. “Wasn’t that the signal to start round two?”
Sky marched into her kitchen and grabbed oven mitts then lifted the steaming baking dish out of the oven to a hot plate. “I’m going to say this for the last time. It’s not my fault.”
But she couldn’t suppress the guilt trickling through her. Along with a question that had no answer. If she’d kept her mouth shut and her opinions and advice to herself, no matter how relevant, would his bride-to-be have run off with the chauffeur?
“So you didn’t suggest Shelby follow her heart? Or tell her life is too short to waste a minute with anything or anyone who doesn’t feel right?”
“I already confessed. And it’s good advice, if I do say so myself.” Sky had a bad feeling about the way this conversation was going. A diversion would be good. “Dinner is served. Because I promised. After that I think it’s time to say good-night.”
“Don’t you want to know why I need a woman?”
“No.”
“You’re not the least bit curious?”
“Not a single inquisitive bone in my body.”
“You’re not a good liar, Sky.”
“There’s a news flash. Sit down and eat, Doctor.”
