and made her excuses. Scooping up her emeralds and pearls she smiled down sweetly at her brother. “Now, Dad, don’t let Michael get away without telling you his exciting news. He is putting big bucks behind Kyle’s bistro deal! Isn’t that exciting?”
“Is that true son?” Victor’s silvered head rose sharply. Glaring at his son, he puffed smoke like a locomotive. “You actually made a decision that crucial without consulting me?”
Michael whitened. “I am nearly thirty! And when you hand over money to your children, it becomes theirs. Just ask the IRS.”
Grace winked at Michael as Victor fell into one of his standardized lectures on wise investment. And away we go, interfering smarty-pants…
Chapter Three
Grace took her time navigating through the dark winding roads of the opulent Lake Minnetonka neighborhood, indulging in the guilty pleasure of escape.
She hadn’t meant to burn Dickie there at the end by not accepting his ride. But all in all, he was better off with her folks. They’d ply him with smokes and liquor and compliments until his large hungry ego was bloated to the max.
Not as good as sex, but as good as he was bound to get from any of the Norths tonight.
As it was, bed was a place she and Dickie hadn’t been together yet. But not for Dickie’s efforts. He had begun putting on the subtle pressure to take their relationship to the “stage of consummation.” And lovemaking put in such articulate terms didn’t do a thing to entice her.
She stared out onto the wide manicured lawns, thick with mature trees. Methods aside, Grace decided she was in no hurry to consummate their relationship. It seemed a bad sign for any lasting union. But passion wasn’t predictable, couldn’t be measured like the temperature on a thermometer. Perhaps a relationship that was slow heating up wouldn’t burn out so fast. Who knew?
At last she turned off into her Edina town house development, passing small neat yards fronting beige, blue and white duplex structures. She didn’t always roll by the front of the attached structure she shared with her brother; it depended upon which entrance she used to the community. As it happened, she was doing so tonight. And to her surprise, there was a familiar black Jeep parked at her front curb—with a security car alongside, its roof aglow with flashing lights.
Grace pulled up in the rear and alighted to the street. On highs heels she clattered up between the vehicles to join the security man standing there. She recognized him immediately as one of three uniformed men who patrolled the community round the clock.
“Ben! Hello!”
“Evening, Miss North.” He tipped the brim of his gray hat to her.
She pulled the shawl covering her bared shoulders tighter against the evening chill. “Trap a dangerous invader on my property?”
“Seems harmless enough.”
“Harmless?” she gasped in doubt.
“Well, he knows you were in Minnetonka. And knows it’s your birthday. Has the cake to prove it.”
A peek into the Jeep revealed Kyle, looking very glad to see her.
Without a doubt, she could become addicted to that look.
She shuffled her heels like a little girl in tennis shoes. “You came all the way back here to bring me a cake?”
He rubbed his chin. “Yeah.”
“Gee.”
“I never expected to run into you,” he admitted. “Michael gave me a spare key to your place, so I just expected to be in and out in a flash.”
“Well, come in now,” she urged.
Ben cleared his throat. “I suggest you park round back, son. In Miss North’s driveway.”
“Yes,” Grace agreed more firmly. “Follow me round back.”
“THANK GOD YOU CAME along when you did!” Kyle had eased the truck up close to the open garage door and was moving to join her in the garage.
“It’s not that serious. Ben would’ve called me at my parents’ place and you would’ve been cleared.”
“That would’ve been a little embarrassing for me,” he admitted, ducking into the garage. “I haven’t even seen your parents since my return. Hardly a great way to reconnect, collared like some vagrant.”
She flashed a sympathetic smile, then jabbed the remote to lower the garage door and beckoned him to the service door connected to the house.
She led him through the mudroom to the kitchen. Palming the wall, she flipped the switch controlling the overhead fixture.
“Aren’t you afraid of waking your kitten?”
Grace gestured to the empty basket beside the dishwasher. “She has decided my space is far superior to her own. Found my bed and just stretched out flat.”
Kyle had a sudden and vivid image of doing much the same. Startled by the idea, he avoided her eyes. Instead he concentrated on the cake keeper on the table. He whisked off the lid to reveal a homemade two-layer chocolate confection. It was slightly uneven and held a birthday salutation etched in white icing, which was signed off with a K and a very squiggly B.
Grace gasped, placing a hand at the sweetheart neckline of her dress, on the soft skin of her rising breasts. “It’s absolutely beautiful!”
“Yes. Absolutely.” Kyle’s eyes centered not upon the cake, but her breasts, imagining his own hand checking out her heartbeat. Heaven help him, she was a sex goddess in that dress.
For the first time in his life, Kyle envied a bed-hogging kitten.
She peeled off her shawl and moved closer to the table, yet unaware of her sensual impact. “I haven’t had a wonderful homemade cake since camp. I can’t believe you went to the trouble. That you did this for me.”
Clearly, the gesture meant something special to her. To think he actually had some impact on this pampered, beguiling princess. Seemed impossible.
“Button helped,” he erupted. “No big deal.” In fact, the cake was sort of an afterthought that deserved little attention, just an impulsive gesture to seal their deal. Moreover, he’d thought it a good exercise for Button to do something kind for someone she didn’t particularly like yet. He could only imagine the monster cake she just bit into at her official party.
Arms folded over her chest, Grace was presently giving him the once-over. Lost in her, he’d forgotten about his own sorry state of dress. Allowing Button to run the egg-beater had left his decent shirt and slacks speckled with cake batter. Having little clean laundry he’d thrown on a faded gray T-shirt and some very sorry blue jeans with fabric so thin, they left little to the imagination.
There as a strange light in her green eyes now, suggesting hunger, delight, desire.
It was one thing for a male deprived of intimacy for a full year to feel lustful in these circumstances, but Grace…Surely she wouldn’t use her imagination on him this way, would she?
Dammit, this was little Gracie, the lanky tagalong. And he was unsure of her thoughts!
It was a struggle to trigger lucid conversation, but he managed. “So how was the big party?”
She shrugged, sinking into a chair at the table. “Probably as you remember. Routine.”
Kyle did remember, having helped with the catering on occasion. Never before had he ever been concerned over whether or not she had a date, though. The relief that she’d proven to be alone out on the street tonight had been overwhelming. For no good reason, he was very glad indeed.
She was staring up at him in curious amusement. “All in all, Kyle, you’ll find you haven’t missed much around here.”
Kyle