Full House

  "We're going to a formal reception at some embassy tomorrow night," Deedee said. "How about if we get you a date with Big John, and we can all go together?"

  Billie formulated a mental list of preferred things to do: a basket of ironing that needed tending to, that kitchen drawer that was overflowing with junk and begged to be straightened, the spots on her carpet she'd been meaning to clean.

  "A date with Big John could get you noticed by a lot of important people," Deedee said.

  Billie pondered it. A date with Big John was just behind cutting off her thumbs with a carving knife. "That's nice of you to offer, but I don't think so. I think Big John is ... ah, well, how do I put it? Far too big for someone like me," she said at last. "I'm sure it would be uncomfortable." She looked up and found three pairs of eyes staring. Deedee was blushing, something Billie had not thought possible. Beside her, Nick chuckled. Frankie's thick dark brows were arched high over his forehead, forming an upside-down V.

  "What'd I say?"

  Nick did his best to control the laughter that threatened to overtake him. The funniest part of all was that Billie truly had no clue how her words had sounded. Later tonight, when she was tucked into bed in her sensible mother-type pajamas, she'd remember the double entendre and throw the covers over her head out of embarrassment. He'd give anything to be there, next to her, when it happened.

  Too late, Billie realized how her words had probably sounded to the others. "That's not what I meant," she insisted. "I just don't like staring into a man's navel when I speak to him."

  Deedee sighed. "He's not that big."

  "I'd feel dwarfed beside him." Billie glanced around frantically. "Would somebody please call a waiter?" She glanced up and froze when she caught sight of a familiar face. Sheridan Flock was headed their way, followed by a man who looked to be a good ten years younger and model-handsome. She felt Nick stiffen beside her.

  Sheridan paused at their table and her eyes fell on Nick. "Well, what have we here?" Her gaze flitted about. "Slumming tonight?"

  Nick shrugged. "I might ask you the same thing, Sheridan," he teased, although Billie could sense the tension in his body language. "I thought you preferred French restaurants."

  Billie wondered if the woman was following Nick, then told herself she was being paranoid.

  "Not at all," Sheridan said. "You know me, I'm quite the adventuress."

  Suddenly, there was silence. Billie shifted in her seat as Sheridan's gaze swung in her direction. She knew how ordinary she must look compared to the beauty wearing a simple black dress that hugged an absolutely perfect figure. Thin spaghetti straps emphasized her slender shoulders and shapely arms.

  Finally, Deedee broke the silence. "A steak restaurant is right where she needs to be," she said. "Got to feed that growin' boy."

  Billie suppressed a smile but Frankie laughed out loud.

  Sheridan regarded Deedee. "Hello, there," she said. "I don't believe I've met the new man in your life, Deedee. Is this husband number six or seven?"

  Deedee shrugged. "Actually, I've lost count, but nobody can ever accuse me of being always a bridesmaid but never a bride. Sheridan, honey, meet Frankie. He's a famous wrestler."

  Frankie offered his hand, but Sheridan didn't take it. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage," she said. "I don't get the opportunity to attend many wrestling matches these days."

  "Sheridan, you'll have to pardon us for not inviting you and your friend to join us," Nick said politely, "but we obviously don't have room."

  "Actually, I was on my way out," she said.

  Deedee chuckled. "Probably past your boy's bedtime."

  Sheridan laughed. "I see you still have that great sense of humor, Deedee. I admire a woman who can still hold her head high despite what others think of her."

  "We simply must do lunch, honey," Deedee replied. She waited until the woman walked away before looking at Nick. "What a bitch."

  "You held your own."

  "I can't believe you almost married her. My God, she's wicked."

  "Don't be so hard on her," Nick said.

  Billie, who'd decided it was best to remain silent instead of swapping barbs, looked at him quizzically and wondered why he was defending the woman.

  Deedee made a tsking sound. "Poor thing probably resents us for being able to stay out late. After all, she has to take that child home and tuck him in for the night."

  When they finally left the restaurant more than an hour later—once Billie had eaten her steak and part of Nick's, much to his amusement and Deedee's disbelief—they found that a small crowd had formed around the limo, drawn by the license plate held in place by a fourteen-karat-gold frame with the assassin printed in black relief. Frankie waded into the middle of the crowd. He signed a shopping bag and an arm cast. He wrote his name in black felt marker on the foreheads of several fans who were without paper products.

  Finally, Frankie pulled Nick aside and whispered something into his ear. Nick nodded as Frankie grasped Deedee's hand and started down the street, turning once to give Billie a broad smile and wink.

  Billie didn't like the looks of the wink. "What did Frankie say to you?" she asked Nick.

  Nick ignored the question as he ushered her into the limo and gave directions to the driver. He settled his lean frame onto the plush back seat and patted the place next to him. "Come sit here. It's more comfortable."

  "I'm comfortable enough. Where are Frankie and Deedee going?"

  Nick sighed and reached out, hauling her off the opposing jump seat so that she was sitting beside him. "Frankie and Deedee want to spend some time alone. He keeps a condo just a few blocks from here."

  "What about Deedee and her scruples?"

  "I never said Deedee had scruples about sleeping with Frankie. I said she had scruples about living with him."

  Billie's gaze narrowed into mere slits. "You planned this, Kaharchek. Just when I think there might be some human decency in you—"

  "Think of me as a knight with tarnished armor." Nick pressed a button, closing the dark, soundproof panel that separated them from the driver. "Actually, I had nothing to do with it, but it's just as well. You've been giving me the come-on all evening. Now's your chance to act on it."

  Billie's jaw dropped open. She closed it. "You're delusional. You have serious problems. You need help."

  He liked getting her riled. "You're right, I do have a serious problem, and it's got your name written all over it. You could help. Face it, Billie. You want me."

  "What I want is out of this car."

  "Afraid you'll lose control?"

  She stared at him, unable to speak. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes, but Billie sensed he believed every word he was saying. The man had probably never had no for an answer. He looked so smug, relaxed, with his legs stretched in front of him, casually crossed at the ankles. "You've got to be kidding," she said at last.

  "On the contrary, I'm fairly good at reading people, especially the opposite sex. I sense a very passionate woman beneath that Goody Two-Shoes exterior of yours. I'll bet you're hot stuff once you get going."

  "I hate to blow your fantasy and ruin your good time alone in the shower tonight, but I am not hot stuff."

  He had to admit she could hold her own. "You're not hot stuff? What are you, warm stuff? Cold stuff?"

  "It's none of your business what kind of stuff I am."

  He slid his finger through the wave of hair above her ear. "Suppose I make it my business?"

  Billie's eyes narrowed. "You can't imagine how many times I've heard that line."

  The beginnings of a frown creased the area between his brows. "Lots of boyfriends?"

  "Lots of television."

  "Does it work on television?"

  "Usually," she admitted.

  "You think it'll work tonight?"

  "Get real."

  Nick grinned. "Mothers are pretty tough, but polo players are even tougher. I usually win."

  Billie looked at him l
evelly, a hint of amusement in her large hazel eyes. "You don't scare me, Kaharchek. Nothing scares me. I teach sixth grade, remember?"

  He continued to smile at her. It was an easy, affable smile, completely without guile and pleasantly intimate. His voice was soft and husky, a bedroom voice compatible with the smile. "You can cut a wrestler down to size with a look, and punch ornery horses, but you're not so brave about acknowledging the attraction between us."

  Outwardly Billie struggled to seem calm, but the tension building between her shoulder blades was tight as a rubber band stretched to its limit. And Nick knew exactly what he was doing to her.

  She willed her voice to be steady and spoke softly but distinctly. "My attitude toward you has nothing to do with bravery or acknowledgment. It has to do with common sense and a little self-discipline. Simply put, I refuse to be one of your little playthings." Having seen the way the beautiful Miss Flock had looked at him had convinced her to maintain a safe distance from the man.

  His gaze slid the length of her. "Is that why you wore this prim white shirt? So you wouldn't turn me on?"

  She didn't respond. He'd obviously broken his share of hearts and she wasn't about to become his next victim.

  "You failed dismally because you look extraordinarily sexy in it. You have this don't-touch-me look that makes me want to touch you all the more." He leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips, then, very calmly folded his arms, leaned back in the seat, and closed his eyes.

  Billie stared at him, gaped at him actually, eyes wide with surprise. "That's it?"

  "Hmmm?" He didn't open his eyes.

  "You're not going to make a pass at me?"

  He opened one eye. "You sound disappointed."

  "Isn't that what this whole thing was about? I'll bet you talked Frankie into letting us use his limo so you could plan this big seduction scene."

  "Frankly, I just wanted to spend some quiet time with you." He took her hand in his and held it. "Relax."

  A very confused Billie leaned back in the plush seat. What was going on? she wondered. Here she was with Loudoun County's biggest stud, and he wasn't going to make a pass at her after all? Was it some kind of game meant to confuse her? She understood games about as much as she did her VCR. She simply sat there wearing a perplexed look.

  Was she disappointed? she asked herself. Perhaps she wanted Nick to desire her, despite the flash of pain she'd seen in Sheridan Flock's eyes, despite knowing how quickly Nick went through women. As ridiculous as it sounded, even in her own head, she knew there was still some small part of her that would never fully recover from her ex-husband's rejection. The fact that Nicholas Kaharchek found her sexy had bolstered her self-confidence and made her feel like a woman again instead of a mother and a schoolteacher.

  Nick noted the play of emotions on her face and wondered at them. He couldn't begin to decipher her feelings when he was clueless as to his own. He picked up a phone and gave the driver Billie's address. "And how about stopping by the Dairy Queen on the way home?" he said.

  "We're going to the Dairy Queen?" she asked.

  "I'm hungry. You ate part of my dinner."

  She blushed. "I only had a few bites of your steak."

  "You ate more than half of it. Heaven only knows where you put it."

  "I've been wanting a good steak for a long time. All I eat is low-fat frozen dinners."

  "Why?" His brow wrinkled. "Never mind, I think I know."

  "Know what?"

  "You don't feel comfortable with your body."

  "Excuse me?"

  "And we both know the reasons."

  Billie stared at him, stunned. Was the man a mind reader? "You don't know what you're talking about."

  "Your ex-husband wouldn't recognize quality if it slapped him in the face."

  Billie's own face flamed. Nick had seen right through her insecurities, the nagging doubts that sometimes flared when she remembered what it had felt like being tossed aside for another woman. Was he backing off out of pity? The thought sent a hot flash of anger through her. "Don't bring my past into this. I feel perfectly comfortable with my body and who I am, thank you very much. You just can't handle the fact that I'm not the least bit interested in an affair with a man who uses women, and then walks away once the newness rubs off."

  "You've certainly got me pegged." He looked amused.

  "I, on the other hand, still believe in old-fashioned values. Love and marriage and family."

  "Man, you really play hardball, don't you?"

  "You don't believe in marriage?"

  He shrugged. "I think it's great in theory but not at all realistic. Everyone I know has been divorced at least once, including my parents."

  "Is that why you broke it off with Miss Flock?"

  He looked at her. "What makes you think I broke it off?"

  "Give me a break. I know your type. Mister Love-'em-and-leave-'em. I'm surprised you actually went as far as buying an engagement ring."

  "Yep, you've got me all figured out," he said.

  "Uh-huh. I've got your number, Kaharchek. You and a dozen other men just like you."

  "What about you? Did you like being married?"

  "No, but that doesn't mean it couldn't be good. That's why next time I'll be smarter when it comes to choosing a husband."

  "Oh, yeah? What will you do differently?"

  Billie saw the twinkle in his eyes and knew he was playing with her. She composed her face and tried to look deadly serious. "I'm going to marry an older gentleman."

  "How old?"

  "A man who is well past his midlife crises. And he's going to drive a Volvo station wagon instead of a sports car." She ticked the remaining qualifications off on her fingers. "He will not be into snakes, wrestling, sequins, nor will he have enlarged body parts."

  "You know, enlarged body parts sometimes work in a lady's favor."

  Her look would have shattered reinforced concrete. "He will absolutely, definitely not have a membership to a tanning salon. He will not own a hot tub, a gold chain necklace, or designer underwear." She pressed her lips together primly. "He'll wear plaid flannel boxer shorts. The big ugly baggy kind."

  Nick smiled and raised his eyebrows, knowing there was an element of truth buried in the humor. "So, that's your ideal husband, huh?"

  "Yup."

  "I think you just described my Uncle Henry. He's in a nursing home in Falls Church. They let him have visitors on Sundays. I could fix you up with him."

  "Very funny, but I'm almost serious. I'm not marrying another immature, insecure Romeo who'll only end up straying like the last one, without a care as to what it means to tear a family apart, including two young children."

  Nick felt something tug at his gut as he remembered his own parents' divorce. They had been so caught up in their own anger and misery, they had given little notice to their son's feelings. Instead of allowing her to see how her words had affected him, he merely grinned.

  "I don't suppose you'd want to have a wild fling with no strings attached before you meet Mr. Right?"

  "When pigs fly, Kaharchek."

  The limo had stopped moving. They'd arrived at the Dairy Queen. "Then allow me the pleasure of buying you a banana split with all the fixings while there's still a little life left in you."

  Billie allowed him to help her out of the limo. She caught sight of the grim line of his lips and thought he looked disappointed. She had told him what she wanted out of life, and he'd accepted it, knowing that, while their paths had crossed and they'd enjoyed a few moments of sexual awareness and camaraderie, they had very little in common when it came to the important stuff.

  "Mind answering a personal question?" Billie asked once they'd ordered their sundaes.

  "Shoot."

  "Why'd you break off the engagement? I mean, it's obvious the woman is still in love with you."

  "You think so?"

  "Damn, Kaharchek, it's written all over her face."

  Nick paid for the sundaes. "You've got
it all wrong, Billie. Sheridan dumped me."

  She gaped. "For real?"

  "Three days before the wedding. Broke my heart into a million pieces, left for Europe, and the rest is history. She spent eight months over there. Yesterday was the first time I've seen her since her return to the States." He handed her the sundae she'd ordered. "Any more questions?"

  Billie was embarrassed for asking. Nick, despite his reputation with women, was still pining away for Sheridan Flock. It made Billie all the more determined to steer clear of Nick. "No more questions," she said softly.

  Chapter Six

  Deedee sprayed her flame-red hair and postured in her slinky black dress. "I don't know why you won't let me get you a date for tonight," she said to Billie. "Embassy parties are always so much fun. Especially when you're on the arm of a seven-foot wrestler. Everyone notices you." She pouted at the mirror and outlined her lips in glossy red lipstick. "I like being noticed." She shot Billie a look in the mirror. "Sure beats sitting at home waiting for Nick to call."

  "I'm not waiting for Nick to call," Billie said defensively, at the same time thinking Deedee didn't need to be on the arm of a wrestler to be noticed. The woman was stunning all by herself, six feet tall in spike heels, with enough cleavage to give Dolly Parton a run for her money. The shimmering black material clung to her slim-hipped figure like plastic wrap while she rummaged through a huge chest of jewelry. "I plan to have a nice quiet evening at home. Besides, Nick is still hung up on that Flock woman."

  "That bitch from hell?" Deedee exclaimed. She turned and made a sound of disgust. "What gave you that idea? They split up months ago."

  "Did you know she was the one who broke the engagement? Broke Nick's heart."

  Deedee turned back to the mirror. "I find that hard to believe. Nick began seeing other women the minute Miss Hoity-Toity boarded the plane for Europe. We're talking about my cousin here. Trust me, he's not cut out for celibacy." Deedee winced. "Oh, shoot, I shouldn't have said that, what with you having the hots for him and all."