Strapless. Leigh Riker

meeting with him in the hotel lobby. No big deal.” Or was it? She sounded just like Merrick Lowell about his marriage. “Walt’s not my father, either.” She didn’t know which would be worse, him or Hank Baxter. “You’re not upset, are you?”

      “Nope.” His mouth tightened.

      “You sound upset.”

      The crowd funneled around them, and Dylan drew her off to the side, midway down a straight stretch of tunnel. He pointed out a yellow-and-black striped tiger fish. “Nice pair of briefs,” he suggested, then, “I’m not upset.”

      “Just because that wouldn’t be macho, or because you’re really not?”

      “Really not.”

      He leaned to kiss the nape of her neck and a thrill shot along her nerves.

      “Oh. Look.” She didn’t want their outing spoiled. Darcie dragged him by the hand to another section of the tank where a brilliant clump of fuschia waved in the water. “What is that?”

      “Anemone. See?” He pointed again. “The purple one? The blue?”

      “It’s teal.”

      “Looks plain blue to me.” With a laugh, Dylan stood beside her at the glass while Darcie counted colors and sighed in appreciation.

      “They’re gorgeous.”

      He bent to nuzzle her throat. “So are you.”

      She spun to face him, feeling hot color in her own cheeks, and nearly clipped his chin with the top of her head. Was he serious? Her, gorgeous? Dylan liked to speak his mind, and he didn’t bother to hide his impressions—of her or anything else. She liked that about him—loved it, really—at the same time he took her by surprise. Darcie was accustomed to men like Merrick who either didn’t share emotion or didn’t feel it in the first place. She never knew which. Her father, too.

      Darcie blinked.

      “My eyes are too far apart,” she said. “My fingers are stumpy and I—”

      Dylan looked around, saw that they were relatively alone in the dark tunnel, and drew her close. “Last night, all night, you seemed exactly right to me.”

      At the heated memory she could barely speak.

      “You’re a charmer, Dylan Rafferty.”

      How did I get this lucky, for once?

      So why not overlook the little differences she’d discovered during the past few days? Dylan’s outspoken opinion of men and women and the roles they should play was…antiquated, courtly. Likewise, his attitude that children should be uppermost in a couple’s relationship, and quickly. And his continuing praise of his mum. Darcie agreed with him about a love of children, but she’d soon realized he was thirty years behind the times. And stubborn. As for his views on women with careers, like Darcie…

      “Not by half as charmed as I am. By you,” he said, linking his strong hand with her fingers. He led Darcie around a bend to the next aquarium where a school of reef fish in even more vibrant colors swam and turned and glided through the water. Sparkling and bright, it appeared sunlit from above. “You want to leave soon? Go back to the hotel?”

      His suggestive tone dissolved Darcie to mush.

      “Pretty soon. Let’s see the rest first.”

      If he wasn’t upset, was he bored? She hoped not. But maybe his interest in her was in bed, nowhere else. Darcie wouldn’t let it matter. Three nights ago she had come home after “house hunting” with Walt at The Rocks to find Dylan in the hotel bar. Not that she’d looked in hoping to spot him…or run back downstairs the instant Walt dropped onto his bed for a quick nap before dinner. She almost didn’t need the elevator.

      Walt hadn’t been happy with Darcie, who didn’t show up again until morning. She supposed she couldn’t blame him, in the days since, for his continued sourness or his cool greeting when he finally met Dylan. Her fault. But to be honest, spending her nights with Dylan in his room was like getting a big bag of her favorite red licorice whips as an unexpected present. She’d make herself wait for tonight, anticipate.

      She walked through the darkened tunnels holding his hand, feeling the beat of her own pulse against his skin. Or was that Dylan’s heart? Given a second chance, after her original “mystery” and “play it by ear” remarks, she wouldn’t make that mistake again. As long as she was here, she would see Dylan.

      At the aquarium. And later, in his bed.

      The tunnel bent again, soft classical music piped into the atmosphere as if keeping time with the bubbling water around them. Darcie’s eyes filled with tears. When the magical tunnel ended near an enormous tank filled with coral, anemones, and fish of every description, she spied a set of carpeted steps. She drew Dylan down to sit beside her. For a few moments she listened and felt an inexplicable urge to cry at the beauty of the darkened tunnels, the spectacular life contained within the tanks…or because she’d found this beautiful man all for herself?

      For now.

      Dylan slipped her into the crook of his arm and she leaned her head against his shoulder. Darcie’s hair slid over his other hand at the nape of her neck. Dylan shuddered a little then pulled her closer. A teenage couple nearby on the steps was making out in the dark. A pair of rowdy toddlers raced up and down the stairs. Their frazzled parents scrambled after them. Darcie sat very still, absorbing the heat and power of Dylan’s embrace. When he lowered his head to kiss her, she felt every cell of her body ignite.

      Darcie touched his face. “This is the nicest date I’ve ever had.”

      “Ah. So it’s a date now, is it?”

      “Definitely.”

      Dylan lifted his head. “What if it was more than a date?”

      “You mean after this, in the room?” She whispered the words.

      “No, in my life,” he said. “Your life.”

      Darcie pulled back a little. “My, you’re a fast one.” Her tone sounded flippant, but she was suddenly trembling.

      “I like you, Darcie.” I love you, Merrick had said. “We’re…compatible, for sure.” He grinned. That gorgeous grin. Then he bent his head again to take her mouth, and for an instant Darcie forgot what he was saying. “I’ve known you just less than four days and I feel like it’s…forever.”

      “That would be a trick.”

      “What would?” he asked.

      “If you and I tried to…”

      “Have a serious relationship?”

      “You said it, not me.” She didn’t have relationships. Like Merrick, they never lasted. She had Wunderthings to consider—Walt was right—New York, Gran and even Sweet Baby Jane. That was her life.

      Dylan took her hand between his. Strong, lean, callused from his work.

      “What are you scared of?”

      “I’m not scared. I barely know you.”

      He gave her a slow smile. “Pretty well, wouldn’t you say?”

      Darcie swallowed. “Three nights in bed, here at the aquarium—” she gestured at a school of zebra fish in the tank “—breakfast this morning in the lounge…” She shook her head.

      “Don’t forget dinner last night.”

      “That was in bed, too. We didn’t even finish.”

      “Doesn’t count, then?” He frowned. “Or doesn’t this mean to you what it means to me?”

      “Great sex?” Darcie tried. “Ozspeak lessons? Strine?”

      His gaze lowered. “You want to make fun, I can’t stop you.”

      “Dylan.”