Stranger in the Moonlight Read online

  As she pulled into her driveway she remembered that he’d asked for her help, and she vowed to give it.

  Travis parked beside her and got out. “You don’t use your garage?”

  “I have it set up as a workroom.” She fumbled for her house key on the ring.

  “So when it snows or rains or gets really hot, your car is outside?” He took the keys from her and unlocked the door.

  “Yes,” she said as she went inside. She switched on the lamps by the couch she and Jecca had chosen. The room was done in shades of blue and white. One wall was bookcases and a TV, a fireplace below. The ceiling went up to the roof, with big white exposed rafters.

  “Nice,” Travis said. “It looks like a home.” He was wondering why his expensive decorator couldn’t have done something like this. But then, he’d not given the woman any help by telling her what he liked.

  “Thanks,” Kim said and turned away so he wouldn’t see her grin. “Kitchen’s this way.”

  “Kim, you don’t need to feed me,” he said. “That you’re giving me a place to sleep is enough. I can—” He stopped talking at the sight of her kitchen. It opened into the dining area, and all of it was warm and cozy. There was a big pink granite island, with copper pots hung along one wall. The dining table was big and old, with cut marks from hundreds of meals.

  “I like this,” he said. “Have you had this house long?” He knew the answer to that because he’d followed the sale every inch of the way. He’d even had Penny make a couple of calls to the bank where Kim was applying for a mortgage. He wanted to make sure everything went through smoothly.

  “Less than a year,” she said.

  “And you made it look like this in that time?”

  “Jecca and I did it all. We . . .” She shrugged.

  “You two are artists, so you knew what you were doing. What can I do to help with dinner?”

  “Nothing,” Kim said, but she wondered how he knew that Jecca was an artist. Had she told him? “Just sit down and I’ll get you something to eat.”

  He took a seat on a stool on the far side of the counter and watched her.

  Kim could feel his eyes on her as she started going through the refrigerator. She felt guilty that everything in there had been made by Dave and his catering crew, but there didn’t seem to be any need to tell Travis that. To say that she had a fairly regular boyfriend would be to assume that something could possibly happen between her and Travis. Foot massage aside, he didn’t seem to be interested in anything besides friendship. And he was looking at her as though she were still eight years old.

  She put a place mat on the counter in front of him, then a plate and the matching knife and fork. Her mother had tried to get Kim to save money by using her grandmother’s dishes, but Kim had refused. “You just want to get rid of the old things,” Kim had said, and her father had suppressed a laugh. In the end, her mother gave the whole set to Colin and Gemma Frazier for a wedding gift, and they’d loved them.

  “What’s that look for?” Travis asked, and Kim told him.

  “Gemma is a historian and she knew the history of the company that made the dishes. She treated them like they were treasure.”

  “But not you?” Travis asked.

  “I like new. What would you like to eat?”

  “Anything,” he said. “I’m a pure omnivore.”

  She put spoons in each of the nearly dozen plastic bowls she’d taken from the fridge and let him help himself. She couldn’t help sitting on the stool next to him and watching him. He ate European style, with his fork turned over in his left hand, his knife in his right. His manners were those of a prince.

  Without the sharp contrast between shadows and harsh white light on him, she could now see some of the angelic look that he’d had as a boy. In adulthood, his hair was midnight black, his eyes were as dark as obsidian, his cheekbones angular, and his jaw strong. It looked like he hadn’t shaved in a day or so, and the whiskers further darkened the look of him. All in all, she thought she’d never seen a better looking man in her life.

  Travis saw the way she was leaning on her elbow and looking at him. If he didn’t distract her he was going to put his hand on the back of her neck and kiss her. “Aren’t you afraid of getting something on that dress?”

  “What? Oh yeah, sure.” She broke her trance of staring at him. “I guess I should put on something more comfortable.”

  Travis gave a little cough, as though he nearly choked on his food.

  “You okay?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I’ll just finish here while you . . .”

  Reluctantly, she got off the stool. “Sure, of course.” She hurried down the hall to her bedroom and closed the door. “I am making a fool of myself,” she whispered aloud.

  It wasn’t easy to reach the zipper in the back of her dress, and for a moment she thought of asking Travis to unzip her. That thought made her giggle—which disgusted her. “You are eight years old,” she said aloud and began to undress.

  In the kitchen, Travis breathed a sigh of relief. Kim, so beautiful in her low-cut dress and sitting there watching him, had been too much for him. Had he been in a normal situation, he would have given her looks to let her know how interested he was in her. He knew from experience that girls who looked at him as Kim did were an easy make.

  But then what would happen? he thought. Would she start talking of their wedding?

  The truth was that Travis didn’t think he’d mind that. So far, everything around Kim had felt like he was coming home. Her, her house, even what he’d seen of her friends, had been pleasant and welcoming.

  But what happened when she found out more about him, about his past, about who his father was? He’d see the stars fall out of her eyes—and he couldn’t bear that. No, it was better that he let her keep her ideas that he was noble, someone who had done only good deeds in his life. Better to never let her find out the truth.

  He’d finished eating by the time Kim returned wearing jeans and an old T-shirt. Unfortunately, Travis thought she looked even more desirable than before. It hit him that it had been a mistake to accept her invitation to stay at her house. He stood up.

  “Ready to go to bed?” she asked.

  Travis didn’t dare answer that question. He just nodded, but when Kim started toward the back door, he halted. He wasn’t going to be in the same room with her and a bed. “Why don’t you give me the key and point me in the right direction?”

  “But I need to show you where things are.”

  “I’m sure I can find everything.” He smiled at her in a way that said he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  Kim handed him her key ring.

  There was an awkward moment at the back door when they parted. Kim bent forward, as though she meant to kiss him on the cheek, but he pulled back. For a moment she thought he was going to shake her hand, but then he gave her a brotherly pat on the shoulder and left the house.

  As Kim put away the leftovers, she couldn’t help grimacing. She was the one who’d said they were friends, so she had no right to complain when Travis stuck to that.

  The next morning she awoke to the smell of cooking, and her only thought was Travis! She rapidly dressed and put on a bit too much eye makeup, but then her brows and lashes had always been too pale. She cursed herself for not having them dyed before the wedding. But then, she had an idea that Travis liked women who could pull off the no-makeup look. It took three shades of brown to achieve that look.

  She had on nice black slacks and a crisp linen shirt when she went into the kitchen. Pausing in the doorway, she saw Travis with his back to her as he cooked something on her new Wolf range. He had on jeans and a denim shirt. She wasn’t sure, but he looked to have a truly magnificent body under his clothes.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  Travis turned, skillet in hand, and smiled at her. She so badly wanted to put her arms around him. For a moment he seemed amenable to that idea, but then he broke eye contact.