The Favour. Cara Summers

pleasure.”

      Ryder grabbed her wrist before she could turn and used a finger under her chin so that she had to meet his eyes.

      “The kiss was my pleasure, too, Dr. Gibbs.”

      “I…it was…I don’t think…I…”

      Ryder smiled at her. This blushing, flustered woman was the nervous Nellie he’d first spotted pacing in front of the restaurant. This side of her contrasted sharply with the determined-looking Joan of Arc who’d strode so purposefully into the restaurant. And then there was the woman he’d held in his arms a few minutes ago. “Kisses are best when you can’t think at all—don’t you think?”

      Color flooded her face, and Ryder saw once again the innocence that he’d sensed in the woman who’d kissed him so passionately. How many other women lurked below the surface? Curious, he felt the strong pull of desire. Oh, there were complications here all right.

      “That kiss was…” she began.

      “Incredibly exciting.”

      “Yes, but I think…I’m sure….”

      Later, Ryder would wonder if he might have given into impulse and kissed her again right then and there, but his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. The high-tech version of “saved by the bell,” he supposed as he took it out.

      “I’ll be in touch,” he said to Sierra Gibbs before, with some effort, he turned away and took the call.

      “Ryder, it’s Mark.” Static rattled in his ear for a second. “…delayed…not going…make it.”

      Right. Mark Anderson, the man he was supposed to meet. And the man who’d slipped right out of his mind for the past few minutes. “Where are you?”

      “I’ve been…think it was worth it.”

      In spite of the choppy connection, Ryder could hear the excitement in his old friend’s voice, and something else that he recognized as fear. “Are you all right?”

      “…can’t talk…on the phone. Not safe…they can trace the location…?”

      “If they have the right equipment,” Ryder said. And just what was Mark involved in that he’d have people tracing his cell? “Are you in trouble?”

      “…tomorrow…same place?”

      “Sure. Blue Pepper, five o’clock?” Ryder frowned when he realized that the call had ended. He hoped that they had the time straight between them.

      He was about to climb back on his stool when he spotted the blue note card beneath it. It had to have fallen out of the doc’s bag. He bent over and picked it up. He was turning, intending to take it to her, when his gaze fell on the neat little list.

      A five-step plan for initiating a sexual relationship with a man.

      Intrigued, he read further.

      1 Attend speed-date night at the Blue Pepper and collect data. 7/28.

      2 Study data. 7/29.

      3 Select a lover. 7/30.

      4 Review and select appropriate sex techniques. 7/31.

      5 Initiate sexual relationship.

      Could this possibly be what it seemed to be? Eyes narrowed, Ryder read the list again.

      What kind of a woman set out to have an affair with a to-do list in hand?

      2

      AS SIERRA made her way up the stairs to the dining room, she felt two different women warring inside of her. One of them wanted to turn around and kiss that man again. The other one was much more cautious. The second was the one who currently had the upper hand.

      Still, she’d kissed a stranger in a bar and part of her had enjoyed it. She hugged the knowledge to her, hoping that the experience would give her the confidence she needed to go forward with her plan.

      She spotted her sisters the minute she entered the dining room. They were already seated and Rad, one of the owners of the Blue Pepper, was emptying a tray of drinks and an hors d’oeuvres platter onto their table.

      She was late. Just how much time had she spent kneeling on the floor with that man?

      Too much time, a little voice in her head lectured.

      Not enough time, another voice taunted. Not nearly enough.

      Stopping short, Sierra straightened and drew in a deep breath. It just wasn’t like her to think that way. She dug though her bag and then closed her fingers around the inhaler, just in case she needed it. She had to put the man and the kiss out of her mind until she accomplished her mission.

      Drawing in another deep breath, she headed toward the table.

      Rad spotted her first and hurried toward her, surprise lighting his features. “Dr. Gibbs! You look absolutely ravishing tonight.”

      It was Sierra’s turn to be surprised as Rad hugged her and rose on his toes to kiss the air on one side of her head. Rad and his partner, George, ran the Blue Pepper. George, a huge bronze giant of a man, handled the bar while Rad greeted the customers. A small man, Rad changed his hair color nearly as frequently as he changed his ties. Tonight, the white spikes matched his shirt and the tiny dots in his fuchsia tie. As a dues-paying member of the fashion police, Rad was not given to hyperbole. His usual greeting to her was a sigh.

      Holding her at arm’s length, Rad studied her carefully. “It’s your hair. That’s what it is. You’ve finally taken my advice to wear it down.”

      Her hair. Sierra ran a hand through it. Sometime during that all-consuming kiss, the man in the bar must have loosened her hair. She risked a quick glance over her shoulder, but she couldn’t see him.

      Rad gripped her arms and turned her to face her sisters. “Tell her she looks ravishing with her hair down.”

      “Ravishing,” Natalie agreed, winking at Sierra.

      “Totally,” Rory said. “We’ve been telling her that for years. But does she listen to us? No. We’re just her sisters. We owe you big-time, Rad.”

      “Just part of the service,” Rad said, sweeping them a bow before he turned and hurried away.

      “This is a major coup,” Rory said as she snagged a shrimp off the hors d’oeuvres platter. “You’re usually immune to Rad’s advice. What’s up?”

      She’d just kissed a stranger in the bar, Sierra thought. From her seat, she was able to scan the bar again, but he wasn’t in sight.

      “Sierra?” Natalie asked. “Is something wrong?”

      Sierra gripped her inhaler more tightly as she drew in another deep breath and refocused her thoughts. “I’m just a bit nervous about opening Harry’s letter.” That was the truth, just not the whole truth.

      “Have a shrimp,” Rory said, pushing the platter closer. “Food always soothes my nerves.”

      “Thanks, I’ll pass,” Sierra said.

      “At least take a drink of the martini we ordered,” Natalie advised.

      That she could do. Dutch courage was always helpful when you never had any of your own. After raising her glass, she clinked it to her sisters’, took a sip and prayed that the nerves dancing in her stomach would settle from a polka to a slow waltz.

      “Dad’s letter won’t be as bad as you think it’s going to be. Isn’t that right, Rory?”

      “Absolutely,” Rory mumbled around a stuffed mushroom. “I felt much better about everything after I read mine.”

      Sierra thought of the men in her sisters’ lives. “Chance and Hunter must be annoyed that I stole you away tonight.”

      Natalie snorted. “Fat