Be My Valentine

  “You like your coffee in a mug instead of a cup.”

  “Yes.” His voice was even more incredulous.

  “You’re a hero, remember?” She sent him another smile, pleased with how accurately she’d assessed his habits. “At least I’ve learned one thing in all of this, and that’s how to recognize a real man.”

  “Paul and Tom weren’t real men?”

  “No, they were costly imitations. Costly to my pride, that is.” She altered her position and pulled her knees beneath her chin, wrapping her arms around her legs. She’d consciously assumed a defensive position—just in case he felt the need to comfort her. “Before you leap to conclusions, I think you should know that the only reason I need a hero is for the sake of Forever Yours. You’re perfect as a model for Michael.”

  “But you don’t want to become personally involved with me.”

  “Exactly.” Now that everything was out in the open, Bailey felt an immediate sense of relief. Now that Parker understood, the pressure would be gone. There would be no unrealistic expectations. “I write romances and you’re a hero type. Our relationship is strictly business. Though of course I’m grateful for your…friendship,” she added politely.

  Parker seemed to mull over her words for several seconds before shaking his head. “I could accept that—except there’s one complication.”

  “Oh?” Bailey’s gaze sought Parker’s.

  “The kiss.”

  Abruptly she dropped her gaze as a chill raced up her spine. “Foul!” she wanted to yell. “Unfair!” Instead, she muttered, “Uh, I don’t think we should discuss that.”

  “Why not?”

  “It was research,” she said forcefully. “That’s all.” She was working hard to convince herself. Harder still at smiling blandly in his direction, hoping all the while he’d leave her comment untouched.

  He didn’t.

  “Well, then it wouldn’t hurt to experiment a second time, would it?” he argued. Unfortunately she had to acknowledge the logic of that—but she wouldn’t admit it.

  “No, please, there isn’t any need,” she told him, neatly destroying her own argument with her impassioned plea.

  “I disagree,” Parker said, standing up and striding toward her.

  “Ah…” She clasped her bent legs even more tightly.

  “There’s nothing to worry about,” Parker assured her.

  “Isn’t there? I mean…of course, there isn’t. It’s just that kissing makes me uncomfortable.”

  “Why’s that?”

  Couldn’t the man accept a simple explanation? Just once?

  Bailey sighed. “All right, you can kiss me if you insist,” she said ungraciously, dropping her feet to the floor. She straightened her sweatshirt, dutifully squeezed her eyes shut, puckered her lips and waited.

  And waited.

  Finally she grew impatient and opened her eyes to discover Parker sitting next to her, staring. His face was inches from her own. A smile nipped at the corners of his mouth, making his lips quiver slightly.

  “I amuse you?” she asked, offended. He was the one who’d requested this demonstration in the first place. He was the one who’d demanded proof.

  “Not exactly amuse,” Parker said, but from the gleam in his eyes she suspected he was fighting the urge to laugh out loud.

  “I think we should forget the whole thing.” She spoke with as much dignity as possible then got up to carry her cup into the kitchen. Turning to collect Parker’s mug from the living room, she walked headlong into his arms.

  His hands rested on her shoulders. “Both of those men were fools,” he whispered, his gaze warm, his words soft.

  Trapped between his body and the kitchen counter, Bailey felt the flutterings of panic. Her heart soared to her throat, beating wildly. He’d had his chance to kiss her, to prove his point. He should’ve done it then. Not now. Not when she wasn’t steeled and ready. Not when his words made her feel so helpless and vulnerable.

  Gently his mouth claimed hers. The kiss was straightforward, uncomplicated by need or desire. A tender kiss. A kiss to erase the pain of rejection and the grief of loss.

  Bailey didn’t respond. Not at first. Then her lips trembled to life in a slow awakening.

  Like the first time Parker had kissed her, Bailey felt besieged by confusion and a sense of shock. She wasn’t ready for this! She jerked herself free of his arms and twisted around. “There!” she said, her voice quavering. “Are you happy?”

  “No,” he answered starkly. “You can try to fool yourself if you want, but we both know the truth. You’ve been burned.”

  “Since I can’t stand the heat,” she said in a reasonable tone, “I got out of the kitchen.” The fact that she’d just been kissed by him in the kitchen only made her situation more farcical. She brushed the hair back from her forehead, managed a false smile and turned around to face him. “I should never have said anything about the wedding dress. I don’t know why I did. I’m not even sure what prompted that display of hysteria.”

  “I’m glad you did. And, Bailey, don’t feel you have to apologize to me.”

  “Thank you,” she mumbled, leading the way to her door.

  Parker stopped to pat Max, who didn’t so much as open his eyes to investigate. “Does he always sleep on your printer?”

  “No, he sometimes insists on taking up a large portion of my pillow, generally when I’m using it myself.”

  Parker grinned. Bailey swore she’d never met a man with a more engaging smile. It was like watching the sun break through the clouds after a heavy downpour. It warmed her spirit, and only with the full strength of her will was she able to look away.

  “I’ll be seeing you,” he said, pausing at the door.

  “Yes,” she whispered, yearning to see him again, yet in the same heartbeat hoping it wouldn’t be soon.

  “Bailey,” Parker said, pressing his hand to her cheek, “just remember you haven’t been the only one betrayed by love. It happens to all of us.”

  Perhaps, Bailey thought, but Parker was a living, breathing hero. The type of man women bought millions of books a year to read about, to dream about. She doubted he knew what it was like to have love humiliate him and break his heart.

  “You look like you don’t believe me.”

  Bailey stared at him, surprised he’d read her reaction so clearly.

  “You’re wrong,” he said quietly. “I lost someone I loved, too.” With that he dropped his hand and walked out, closing the door behind him.

  By the time Bailey had recovered her wits enough to race after him, question him, the hallway was empty. Parker had lost at love, too? No woman in her right mind would walk away from Parker Davidson.

  He was a hero.

  “I’m afraid I did it again,” Bailey announced to Jo Ann as they walked briskly toward their respective office buildings. The noise on the subway that morning had made private conversation impossible.

  “Did what?”

  “Put my foot in my mouth with Parker Davidson. He—”

  “Did you see his name in the paper last night?” Jo Ann asked excitedly, cutting her off. “It was a small piece in the local section. I would’ve phoned you, but I knew I’d see you this morning and I didn’t want to interrupt your writing time.”

  “I saw it.”

  “Dan was impressed that we even knew Parker. Apparently he’s made quite a name for himself in the past few years. I never pay attention to that sort of thing. If it doesn’t have to do with medical insurance or novel-writing, it’s lost on me. But Dan’s heard of him. He would, being in construction and all. Did you know Parker won a major national award for an innovative house he designed last year?”

  “N-no.”

  “I’m sorry, I interrupted you, didn’t I?” Jo Ann said, stopping midstride. “What were you about to say?”

  Bailey wasn’t sure how much she should tell her. “He stopped by my apartment—”

  “Parker came to your place?” Jo Ann sounded a
westruck, as though Bailey had experienced a heavenly visitation.

  Bailey didn’t know what was wrong with Jo Ann. She wasn’t letting her get a word in edgewise. “I made the mistake of telling him about the wedding dress in my closet. And at first I think he assumed I was married.”

  Jo Ann came to an abrupt halt. Her eyes narrowed. “There’s a wedding dress in your closet?”

  Bailey had forgotten she’d never told Jo Ann about Paul and Tom. She felt neither the inclination nor the desire to explain now, especially on a cold February day in the middle of a busy San Francisco sidewalk.

  “My, my, will you look at the time?” Bailey muttered, staring down at her watch. It was half-past frustration and thirty minutes to despair. The only way she could easily extricate herself from this mess was to leave—now.

  “Oh, no, you don’t, Bailey York,” Jo Ann cried, grasping her forearm. “You’re not walking away from me yet. Not without filling me in first.”

  “It’s nothing. I was engaged.”

  “When? Recently?”

  “Yes and no,” Bailey responded cryptically with a longing glance at her office building two blocks south.

  “What does that mean?” Jo Ann demanded.

  “I was engaged to be married twice, and both times the man walked out on me. All right? Are you satisfied now?”

  Her explanation didn’t seem to appease Jo Ann. “Twice? But what’s any of this got to do with Parker? It wasn’t his fault those other guys dumped you, was it?”

  “Of course not,” Bailey snapped, completely exasperated. She’d lost her patience. It had been a mistake to ever mention the man’s name. Jo Ann had become Parker’s greatest advocate. Never mind that she was also her good friend and if she was going to champion anyone, it should be Bailey. However, in Jo Ann’s starry-eyed view, Parker apparently could do no wrong.

  “He assumed you were married?”

  “Don’t worry, I explained everything,” she said calmly. “Listen, we’re going to be late for work. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “You bet you will. You’ve got a lot more explaining to do.” She took a couple of steps, walking backward, staring at Bailey. “You were engaged? To different men each time?” she repeated. “Two different men?”

  Bailey nodded and held up two fingers as they continued to back away from each other. “Two times, two different men.”

  Unexpectedly Jo Ann’s face broke into a wide smile. “You know what they say, don’t you? Third time’s the charm, and if Parker Davidson is anything, it’s charming. Talk to you this evening.” With a quick wave, her friend turned and hurried down the street.

  By lunchtime, Bailey decided the day was going to be a disaster. She’d misfiled an important folder, accidentally disconnected a client on the phone and worst of all spent two hours typing up a brief, then pressed the wrong key and lost the entire document. Following the fiasco with the computer, she took an early lunch and decided to walk off her frustration.

  Either by accident or unconscious design—she couldn’t decide which—Bailey found herself outside Parker’s office building. She gazed at it for several minutes, wavering with indecision. She wanted to ask him what he’d meant about losing someone he loved. It was either that or spend the second half of the day infuriating her boss and annoying important clients. She was disappointed in Parker, she decided. He shouldn’t have walked away without explaining. It wasn’t fair. He’d been willing enough to listen to the humiliating details of her love life, but hadn’t shared his own pain.

  Roseanne Snyder, the firm’s receptionist, brightened when Bailey walked into the office. “Oh, Ms. York, it’s good to see you again.”

  “Thank you,” Bailey answered, responding naturally to the warm welcome.

  “Is Mr. Davidson expecting you?” The receptionist was flipping through the pages of the engagement calendar. “I’m terribly sorry if I—”

  “No, no,” Bailey said, stepping close to the older woman’s desk. “I wasn’t even sure Parker would be in.”

  “He is, and I know he’d be pleased to see you. Just go on back and I’ll tell him you’re coming. You know the way, don’t you?” She turned in her chair and pointed down the hallway. “Mr. Davidson’s office is the last door on your left.”

  Bailey hesitated, more doubtful than ever that showing up like this was the right thing to do. She would have left, crept quietly away, if Roseanne hadn’t spoken into the intercom just then and gleefully announced her presence.

  Before Bailey could react, Parker’s office door opened. He waited there, hands in his pockets, leaning indolently against the frame.

  Fortifying her resolve, she hurried toward him. He moved aside and closed the door when she entered. Once again she was struck by the dramatically beautiful view of the bay, but she couldn’t allow that to deter her from her purpose.

  “This is an unexpected surprise,” Parker said.

  Her nerves were on edge, and her words were more forceful than she intended. “That was a rotten thing you did.”

  “What? Kissing you? Honestly, Bailey are we going to go through all that again? You’ve got to stop lying to yourself.”

  “My day’s a complete waste,” she said, clenching her hands, “and this has nothing to do with our kiss.”

  “It doesn’t?”

  She sank down in a chair. “I dragged my pride through the mud of despair for you,” she said dramatically.

  He blinked as though she’d completely lost him.

  “All right,” she admitted with a flip of her hand, “that may be a little on the purple side.”

  “Purple?”

  “Purple prose.” Oh, it was so irritating having to explain everything to him. “Do you think I enjoy sharing my disgrace? It isn’t every woman who’d willingly dig up the most painful episodes in her past and confess them to you. It wasn’t easy, you know.”

  Parker walked around to his side of the desk, sat down and rubbed the side of his jaw. “Does this conversation have anything to do with the slightly used wedding dress?”

  “Yes,” she returned indignantly. “Oh, it was perfectly acceptable for me to describe how two—not one, mind you, but two—different men dumped me practically at the altar steps.”

  The amusement faded from Parker’s eyes. “I realize that.”

  “No, you don’t,” she said, “otherwise you’d never have left on that parting shot.”

  “Parting shot?”

  She shut her eyes for a moment and prayed for patience. “As you were leaving, you oh-so-casually mentioned something about losing someone you loved. Why was it fine for me to share my humiliation but not for you? I’m disappointed and—” Her throat closed before she could finish.

  Parker was strangely quiet. His eyes held hers, his look somber. “You’re right. That was rude of me, and I don’t have any excuse.”

  “Oh, but you do,” she said dryly. She should have known. He was a hero, wasn’t he? She shook her head, angry with herself as much as with him.

  “I do?” Parker countered.

  “Yes, I should’ve figured it out sooner. Heroes often have a difficult time exposing their vulnerabilities. Obviously this…woman you loved wounded your pride. She unmasked your vulnerability. Believe me, I know about that from experience. You don’t have to explain it to me.” She stood up to go, guiltily aware that she’d judged Parker too harshly.

  “But you’re right,” he argued. “You shared a deep part of yourself and I should have been willing to do the same. It was unfair of me to leave the way I did.”

  “Perhaps, but it was true to character.” She would have said a quick goodbye and walked out the door if not for the pain that suddenly entered his eyes.

  “I’ll tell you. It’s only fair that you know. Sit down.”

  Bailey did as he requested, watching him carefully.

  Parker smiled, but this wasn’t the winsome smile she was accustomed to seeing. This was a strained smile, almost a grimace.

 
“Her name was Maria. I met her while I was traveling in Spain about fifteen years ago. We were both so young and in love. I wanted to marry her, bring her back with me to the States, but her family…well, suffice it to say her family didn’t want their daughter marrying a foreigner. Several hundred years of tradition and pride stood between us, and when Maria was forced to choose between her family and me, she chose to remain in Madrid.” He paused, shrugging one shoulder. “She did the right thing, I realize that now, much as it hurt at the time. I also realize how difficult her decision must have been. I learned a few months later that she’d married someone far more acceptable to her family than an American student.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head as though to dispel the memories. “There’s no reason you should be. Although I loved her a great deal, the relationship would never have lasted. Maria would’ve been miserable in this country. I understand now how perceptive she was.”

  “She loved you.”

  “Yes,” he said. “She loved me as much as she dared, but in the end duty and family were more important to her than love.”

  Bailey didn’t know what to say. Her heart ached for the young man who had lost his love, and yet she couldn’t help admiring the brave woman who had sacrificed her heart for her family and her deepest beliefs.

  “I think what hurt the most was that she married someone else so soon afterward,” Parker added.

  “Paul and Tom got married, too…I think.” Bailey understood his pain well.

  The office was quiet for a moment, until Parker broke the silence. “Are we going to sit around and mope all afternoon? Or are you going to let me take you to lunch?”

  Bailey smiled. “I think you might be able to talk me into it.” Her morning had been miserable, but the afternoon looked much brighter now. She got to her feet, still smiling at Parker. “One thing I’ve learned over the years is that you can’t allow misery to interfere with mealtimes.”

  Parker laughed and the robust sound of it was contagious. “I have a small surprise for you,” he told her, reaching inside his suit pocket. “I was going to save it for later, but now seems more fitting.” He handed her two tickets.