Night Moves (8 page)

"Adam, I'm sorry that we weren't including you in the conversation. That was very rude of us. But throwing your food across the table is a very bad thing to do. Do it again, and your aunt or I will take you outside and give you a good talking to there. Understand?"

Adam shifted closer to Bryn and pressed as far into the vinyl seat as he could. He didn't reply, but he didn't throw anything again, either.

Bryn wondered briefly if she should have resented Lee taking over the initiative on discipline. But she didn't feel any resentment; all she felt was a pounding headache coming on. "Guys," she murmured, and her voice held a husky tremor, ' 'please finish your dinners; we have to get home.''

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Get it together, Bryn Keller, she warned herself. It had been nice to see the empathy in Lee Condor's extraordinary eyes, but she didn't want empathy to become pity. She could control her situation; only rarely did she fall prey to frustration.

' 'Wantsome coffee?'' Lee asked her after Brian and Keith had looked from her to Lee to her again,then begun busily eating. Adam didn't budge, but his plate was almost empty anyway. She decided to let it go.

Bryn lowered her lashes suddenly. Lee even seemed to know that gulping two glasses of wine was too much for her. Yes, she did want coffee. There was Chinese tea on the table, but it wouldn't perk her up enough to drive. "Yes, I would," she murmured.

Lee signaled to the waitress, and she wondered for a moment if the American Indian and the Chinese shared a special sign language, because two cups of coffee were instantly brought. "How did you do that?" Bryn inquired curiously. He laughed. "No great talent. I mouthed the word 'coffee.'" "Oh." She flushed uneasily, lowering her lashes once again, and scalded her lip on the hot coffee.

"Hi, Bryn."

She glanced up to see that Perry and Mick had wandered over to their booth.

"Hi," she returned, wishing her voice didn't sound so shy. She was accustomed to being assured; why did she worry about what these particular men thought of her?

Because they're Lee's co-workers, an inner voice that she didn't want to hear told her. And, more important, they're his friends.

"Nice looking family," Mick said with a grin that proved he meant it.

"Thanks," she replied, then added swiftly, "Guys, meet Mr.Skyhawk and Mr. Litton. They work with Mr. Condor."

Perry chuckled. "You make us sound like the Mafia, Bryn. Guys, I'm Perry, and this is Mick. And who are you?"

"That's Brian, and that's Keith, and this is-- Oh!" She glanced down at Adam to see that he had fallen asleep against her side. His left thumb was securely in his mouth--he had broken the habit during the day, but not at night--and he had bunched a fistful of her skirt into his hand like a security blanket. Bryn glanced back up at Mick and Perry and shrugged. "Rip Van Winkle here is Adam."

"Hi, Brian, hi, Keith," Mick said.

Bryn knew before they opened their mouths that she was in trouble again, but there wasn't a damn thing she could do to prevent it, short of grabbing the tablecloth and throwing it over both their heads.

"You're an Indian, too!" they exclaimed in unison.

Lee laughed along with Perry and Mick, and Perry purposely egged the boys on. "Me?An Indian? No, I'm not. I'm a perfect American Heinz 7! A little Scotch, a little Irish. Some English, some French. Oh! I forgot about the Lithuanian!"

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"Not you!" Mick exclaimed in mock horror. "They mean me. Hey, you can't fool kids these days. They know a real Indian when they see one."

Brian and Keith stared at each other in confusion,then broke up giggling. Bryn wasn't sure whether she wanted to kiss the lot of them, or still crawl beneath the table.

"Indians are fun!" Keith told Brian gravely.

"And green-eyed dancers can turn lovely shades of red, can't they?" Lee said, grinning up wickedly at his friends.

"Sure can," Mick agreed. He smiled at Bryn,then turned his attention to Lee. "We were about to head on out. I think they needed our table. But we can wait around outside if you want."

Lee looked across the table at Bryn. "If Miss Keller won't mind the assistance, I'll give her a hand getting her brood home."

"Oh, no, really.I can handle them fine. I don't want to hold you up!" Bryn protested. Don't help me, she pleaded silently.

It's too easy to accept help.Too easy to lean on strength. And too easy to find your support gone, and you falling deeper__

"Go on, Perry, Mick," Lee said comfortably. He was looking at Bryn again. "We're just fooling around with some new tunes tonight. Andrew had a date and won't make it until eleven, eleven-thirty. I'll carry our little rice-throwing Rip Van Winkle over there so you don't have to wake him up. Then I'll give Mick and Perry a call, and one of them can come back to get me."

"Oh, no, really..."

"You already said that." Mick grinned. "No problem, Bryn. Just make sure he gives us the right address when he calls."

She didn't get a chance to protest again; they were already waving and leaving the restaurant. "Are you ready?" Lee asked. "I just have to get the check." "I already paid it." "What? How?When?"

"How indignant you can get! I asked them to add your tab to mine when I saw you in here." "But you had no right--" "Bryn, it's a lousy dinner check." "Mr. Condor, I earn my salary, and I pay my own bills."

"Ah...I just became 'Mr. Condor' again. I liked it when you used my given name. Okay, let's set the record straight. You do earn your salary. You more than earn it. But I wanted to pick up your check. No strings, no, 'You owe me something.'Just dinner. It's been worth it to have a meal with kids. Now, do you want to get out of here before Rip awakens and starts to bawl in the middle of the restaurant?"

"All right, all right!"Bryn snapped. "Let's go. I'll carry Adam until we get to my van.""The blue Ford?"

"Yes."

She almost forgot about Keith and Brian as she struggled to stand with Adam scooped into her arms. It was Lee who turned back to them. "Brian, Keith? You guys all set?"

They came with him as meekly as lambs.

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Outside the restaurant, Lee turned around and smoothly plucked Adam from Bryn's arms. She didn't say anything; Adam was a good forty pounds, and she had already been puffing. Lee carried him as easily as a football.

She didn't speak at all during the short drive home, but it didn't really seem to matter. Lee talked to the boys. And she had to admit that he had a nice way about him. It wasn't so much that he spoke to them as if they were adults; he spoke to them as if they were people--a talent which many grownups were sadly lacking. She vaguely heard a conversation that began dealing with different Indian tribes in theUnited Statesand went on to history in general.

"My teacher said your medieval video was great!"

"Well, thankyour teacher for me, Brian. There was a time when I thought I might be a history teacher myself."

"What happened?"

"I found out that I liked being a drummer better."

"I thought you played the tom-toms?"

"Well, they're a lot alike."

A few moments later Bryn pulled into the driveway. She began to hope that she hadn't left laundry scattered anywhere, and that she had remembered to dust sometime within the past month.

After parking, she turned around to look at Lee, who still held Adam.

"I've got him," Lee assured her. "Just lead the way."

Brian and Keith bounded out of the van; Bryn followed them at a more reserved pace. She didn't fumble with the key, but she did have difficulty finding the light switch.

"Upstairs," she told Lee, trying to hide the trace of nervousness in her voice. "Brian, Keith, please don't trip Mr. Condor."

She followed him up the stairs, along with their boisterous escort of two. "Adam is the bottom bunk!"

Brian informed Lee in a low whisper. "I'm the top, and Keith has the bed over there."

"Okay!" Lee whispered, ducking low to deposit Adam on the bunk.

"And Aunt Bryn sleeps in her own bed down the hall. She has her own room, you know."

Bryn gritted her teeth and clenched her fists at her sides, shooting her eldest nephew a murderous glare.

If I did what I wanted to do to you right now, Brian Keller, she thought, I would definitely be arrested for child abuse.

"You two go brush your teeth and get ready for bed!" Sometimes she could swear that they were sixteen and seventeen instead of six and seven.

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"I guess you want to slip his jeans off or something," Lee told her with a smile. "Mind if I wait for you downstairs?" "No, that'd be fine, thanks," Bryn replied. Lee disappeared. Bryn could hear water splashing in the upstairs bath as she tugged off Adam's jeans. He'd be all right in his T-shirt, she decided.

A tender smile tugged at her lips as she maneuvered the child about. He looked so sweet and vulnerablein his sleep.

"But you have to stop throwing food, young man!" she whispered, bending to kiss his forehead. "You're bad for my image. You're wreaking havoc with my aura of self-control!" Still smiling, she tucked the covers about him and tiptoed out of the room. Brian and Keith had apparently given their teeth a lick and a promise. They were already downstairs, chatting away to Lee. He had made himself comfortable on the love seat, with his left ankle crossed over his knee, his arms stretched behind him.

"Brian, Keith--to bed. Now," she told them.

"Ahhhh..."

"No 'Ahhhs.'To bed."

ThankGod they chose to obey her! Rising, they gave her the usual kisses and hugs,then started for the stairs.

"Would you like to tell Mr. Condor good-night and thankhim for the meal?"

"Sure!" Brian readily agreed. "Night, Lee. Thanks for dinner."

"Night, thanks!" Keith echoed.

As soon as they started up the stairs, Bryn started to wonder why she hadn't let them stay up. Now she was alone with Lee Condor.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked him, surreptitiously glancing around the living room. Things looked pretty much in order. There were fingerprint smudges on the glass-topped coffee table, but the magazines on it were neatly stacked, and the long fingers of a philodendron hid a multitude of sins.

"Not a thing," he replied, watching her, a slight smile playing upon his lips, and that glint of golden amusement sparkling from his eyes. "Why don't you sit down for a minute?"

His eyes indicated the small space remaining on the love seat. Bryn lowered her lashes for a minute, then raised her eyes to his.

"Because I don't trust you," she answered honestly. He chuckled, and she noticed again how nice his features looked with the ease of laughter. "What's not to trust? I lay everything on the line." "Hmm. Quite on the line." "Do you still dislike me?"

"No. Yes. No. Lee, it's not a matter of like or dislike. You've been very frank about wanting to hop into bed, and I don't feel like being used that way. You were nice with the kids tonight, and I appreciate that, just like I appreciate working. But--"

"Hey, wait a minute." He had been sitting comfortably, but he was suddenly standing, gripping her arms and staring deeply into her eyes. Amusement was gone; his golden gaze was as hard as the tension about
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his features.

"They don't coincide, Miss Keller, not in the least. I didn't buy you dinner, or be nice to the kids, in hopes of any kind of trade. I enjoy children, and frankly, a dinner check is no big deal. Yes, I still want to go to bed with you. It's a rather natural urge when a man meets a truly beautiful woman. But that doesn't mean that I want to use you. Any more than you would be using me. I'm talking about something that should be thoroughly enjoyed by both parties--that gives to each."

Whydid she have to swallow so much when he stared at her, Bryn wondered, nervously moistening her lips.Because he was right? She had felt the attraction before she had known him. And now...she could feel his heat and energy, and the soft texture of his shirt. His grip was firm, but not painful, and she could think of nothing but the touch of his hands on her arms. She had to tilt her head to meet his eyes, and his thumb moved to her chin, caressing it with a touch of rough magic. "Lee, you can probably have any number of women...." He emitted an impatient oath. "Bryn, you keep trying to label me with archaic attitudes. Do you think that all a man wants is a sound body attached to a nice face? I do not run around having indiscriminate affairs. There was something about you that fascinated me from the moment I saw you." "It's a nice line," Bryn heard herself say harshly."Line? Damn it--"

"Yes, line, damn it! Or are you swearing eternal devotion?" "Is that what you want--eternal devotion? I can't believe that. We've just met. I'm trying to get to know you better, but you're making it damned hard. Maybe there is eternal devotion in it. But how can any of us know where any path leads unless we take the first steps and then follow it?"

"I don't want to get involved!" Bryn flared. "I don't want to get--"

Hurt. That was the word. But she didn't want to say it. It had a very vulnerable sound about it.

"I don't want to get involved," she repeated coldly. Panic was setting in. The longer he stood there, the more she wanted to throw herself against him. The more excitement she felt. How exhilarating it would be to lie down beside him, to explore the taut, muscular length of his body. How nice to be with a man whose very presence spoke of strength and character, power and tenderness. To wake up beside him, feel his arms securely about her...

"Bryn..."

Suddenly his arm was about her, pressing her close until she felt scorched by his body heat, touched by the thunder of his heart. The bronze fingers on her chin held her firm as his lips lowered to hers, firm like his hands, commanding, but persuasive.A touch like lightning. Like the warmth of the sun. So sensual that she felt dizzy, as if her body were spinning along with the earth. His tongue rimmed her lips with a subtle expertise, parted them,delved beyond them.Deeper, deeper, sweetly, firmly exploring, filling her with a current of swiftly burning desire. Somehow hinting of another fulfillment with the crush of his hips against hers, a touch so close that it blatantly spoke to her body of the force of his need...