her stomach. Regret? Maybe. She liked David more than she’d liked anyone in a long time.
“What does your family say about that?” she asked.
“I’m one of five kids, so they’re used to their children having lives. Besides, my folks are great. They want me to be happy.”
Nana would have wanted that for her, too, Liz thought fondly. Happiness and lots of babies. To her grandmother, they were forever linked. Unfortunately, Nana had only had one son and that son had only produced one child.
The waiter appeared with their meals. When he was gone, Liz picked up her soup spoon and glanced at David. “Logan, huh? As in ‘the Logans’? The rich computer company family who contribute millions to Children’s Connection?”
David sighed. “I believe it’s very important to give back.” He grinned. “At least I will when I make my fortune. For now, my folks are the generous ones.”
More than generous, she thought. She’d heard great things about the family. Based on how terrific David was, she would guess they were true.
“I assume there’s no Mrs. Logan accompanying you to Russia?” she asked.
He regarded her seriously. “Nope. Mom’s going to stay home, although she did sew my name into the collars of all my dress shirts.”
She grinned. “You know what I mean.”
“I’m not married, Liz. If I was, I wouldn’t be having lunch with you like this.”
“Good. I’m not married, either. Although there are two large ex-football players waiting for me back at the apartment.”
His mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding.”
“No, but don’t sweat it. They’re just roommates.”
“Why do I know that’s a line?”
“I have no idea. I’m telling the truth. They only have eyes for each other.”
After a lengthy lunch they tussled over the bill.
“It’s on me,” Liz said as she reached for the slip of paper David held. “It’s in exchange for you modeling for me. I’m putting it on my expense account, I swear.”
David shook his head. “It’s my treat. I don’t have lunch with a beautiful woman all that often.”
He was so lying, she thought humorously.
“I’m on to you,” she said as he handed the waiter his credit card. “You act all gentle and charming, but the truth is you’re a serious player in the man-woman game. You know all the moves and I doubt you ever spend a night home alone, except by choice.”
He winced. “That’s unfair.”
“But is it wrong?”
He looked at her and smiled. “What about you, Red?” He fingered the fringe on the brown suede jacket she’d just put on. “You play the starving artist, but with really great accessories. I’m going to guess that guys fall all over themselves to stare into those big green eyes of yours.” He lowered his voice. “Tell me that you’ve never done a quick sketch just to impress a potential conquest.”
“Not since high school,” she protested.
“Any nights alone except by choice?”
She considered the question. “Not really.”
“So you’re a player, too.”
“Okay. Sometimes. Guys are easy.”
“Yeah, and nobody gets close.”
She stared at him. How did he know that? Keeping men at arm’s length was something she did well, and she couldn’t always say why. Sometimes she wondered if she didn’t want to fall in love or if she was just afraid of feeling too much.
The waiter returned with the credit card and the receipt. David signed it and pocketed his copy. As he put away his card, he studied her.
“I have eight hours until I have to head for the airport. Want to keep me company for the rest of my last day on American soil?”
She had a thousand things she should be doing and right this second she couldn’t think of even one.
“Sure, but what about your family? Don’t you have to do the goodbye thing?”
“Did it last night. There was a big party.” He rose and held out his hand. “Wish you could have been there.”
“Me, too.”
She stood and tucked her hand in his. His fingers laced with hers.
Liz felt the heat sizzle between them. Her chest tightened, and there was a definite tingle rippling through her thighs. Talk about lousy timing.
They walked along the river until a cold wind forced them indoors, then they settled next to each other in the corner booth of a coffeehouse. The hours slipped by and they couldn’t seem to stop talking.
“Everyone tried to talk me out of pursuing this as a career,” Liz said with a shrug. “Except Nana, but she believed I could do anything. If I hadn’t won the grant right before graduating, I don’t know that I would have had the courage to make a go of my art.”
She laughed. “Art. That sounds so pretentious. It makes me feel that I should be wearing a black turtleneck and talking about the blindness of the masses. Then I remember I’m part of the masses.”
David rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. Her skin was smooth and pale. No freckles, no flaws at all. She had small hands with slender fingers. Sensibly short nails, he thought. No flashy polish, no rings. The plainness of her hands was at odds with the dangling earrings and charm-bracelet watch.
But he liked that the same way he liked her quick smile and easy laughter. He turned her hand over and traced the lines there.
“Which one is the life line?” he asked.
“I have no idea. I hope it’s the really long one. I have a lot of things on my to-do list and I need time.”
“You’ll make it,” he said with a confidence he couldn’t explain.
“Can I have that in writing?”
“Sure.”
He stared into her eyes. There were a thousand shades of green in her irises. Even more variations on red, gold and auburn in her hair. With his other hand, he reached up and tucked a loose strand behind her ear. He let his fingers linger, and her breath caught.
“David, this is crazy.”
“Tell me about it.”
He had to be at the airport by nine. He was already packed, with his luggage in the trunk of his rental car, but instead of thinking about his job and the opportunity he’d been offered, all he could wonder was how he and Liz could be alone together for more than the next couple of hours.
“Tell me more about your family,” she said. “What was it like growing up with a twin sister?”
“You really want to talk about that?” he asked.
Her mouth parted. “We have to talk about something.”
“Why?”
“Because if we don’t—”
Instead of waiting to hear what would happen if they didn’t, he kissed her. A handful of customers filled the coffeehouse. Several college students were having a heated debate on the economy, and an old man sat by himself reading the paper. David didn’t care about any of them. Right now there was only this moment, this woman and how her mouth felt against his.
She was soft and warm, melting into him as her lips returned the soft, chaste kiss he’d offered. Heat flared, as did desire.
She