Tall, Dark And Irresistible. Joan Elliott Pickart

to allow the sun to come in from all directions.”

      “Have you considered a fireplace? When we get some of those winter rains, it’s damp and chilly. Wouldn’t a fireplace with warm, crackling flames be heavenly?”

      “Sold,” Ryan said, glancing over at her with a smile, then redirecting his attention to the traffic. “Add one fireplace. A flagstone fireplace, I think, banked by oak bookshelves that go all the way to the ceiling.”

      “Perfect. Oh, this is fun. I can certainly understand why you chose to become an architect. You make people’s dreams for their special home come true. And this time, you’re fulfilling your own dreams.”

      “Mmm,” Ryan said.

      Not really, sweet Carolyn, he thought. The home he’d dreamed about for many years would have the sound of happy children’s laughter and the lilting voice of the woman he had married and pledged his love to for all time. But that was a forgotten dream.

      During the hectic Christmas holidays, he’d managed to get in touch with himself and make some resolutions. As a step toward achieving some inner peace in regard to his heritage, he’d decided to remain single. He would date when he was attracted to someone. But he’d decided to watch and listen for any clues that might reveal that while a woman might enjoy his company, she certainly wouldn’t want to marry and have mixed-heritage children with him.

      Ah, hell, Sharpe, he admonished himself. Don’t go there. Don’t do anything to mar this evening with Carolyn. Just don’t.

      “A garden tub,” Carolyn said, pulling him back to the subject at hand. “You know, one of those enormous, raised bathtubs that are big enough for two people and…”

      Her voice trailed off as sudden images of her and Ryan in a garden tub filled with warm water flitted through her mental vision. They were naked…of course. And there were fragrant bubbles across the top of the water like frosting on a cake. Champagne. Oh, that was a nice touch. They were sipping champagne from wafer-thin tulip glasses as they sat close together, gazing into each other’s eyes and…

      Good grief, she thought, where was all this coming from? She didn’t indulge in erotic daydreams, for Pete’s sake.

      “Then again,” she said, hearing the thread of breathlessness in her voice, “I guess most men prefer showers over baths, don’t they? Forget the garden tub.”

      “Oh, I don’t know. That big tub you’re describing holds a certain appeal, I must say. I could add an enclosed shower stall for when I wanted a quick in and out, and use the tub for really relaxing, unwinding from a long day.”

      “That works,” Carolyn said, nodding, “but let’s change the subject. I think it’s rather nuts to be discussing styles of bathtubs, don’t you?”

      Not really, Ryan thought, because all kinds of decisions had to be made when designing a house. Discussing that garden tub, however, wasn’t a terrific idea at the moment because the mental picture it was creating was kicking his libido into overdrive.

      “There’s the restaurant just up ahead,” he said, extremely glad to see the familiar building. “We’re shifting gears from bathtubs to delicious food.”

      And none too soon, Carolyn thought, willing her racing heart to return to a normal tempo.

      The restaurant was one of Ventura’s finest and most popular. Carolyn and Ryan were shown to a small table in one of the many charming alcoves, affording them enviable privacy.

      They ordered from large menus edged in satin binding, Carolyn’s menu had no prices printed on the parchment where the selections had been done in calligraphy. Ryan chose, tasted and approved a fine wine.

      They chatted about the clever additions of the alcoves in the restaurant, moved on to the subject of the weather, then the winning record of a local basketball team made up of firefighters, police officers and members of the city counsel.

      Crisp salads were placed in front of them, followed by Carolyn’s order of baked salmon with dill sauce, and Ryan’s choice of an enormous steak.

      “Oh, this is all so delicious,” Carolyn said. “I have a feeling I’m going to eat every bite.”

      “You’re not alone in that. This steak is great.” He paused. “So, tell me about Carolyn St. John, Ms. Carolyn St. John. How did you settle on a career involving international adoptions?”

      “Is this going to lead to another argument on the subject?” she said, smiling, while telling the nagging voice in her mind to hush.

      Ryan raised his right hand. “No, ma’am. I solemnly swear it is not. I’m attempting to get to know you better, and since your career is a very important part of who you are, it’s a reasonable question. Okay?”

      “Okay,” she said, laughing. “Well, I grew up in Arizona and my parents still live in Phoenix. When I was a senior in high school there was a career day held and I spent quite a bit of time talking to a representative from an adoption agency. Something just clicked, and I knew that was what I wanted to do, be a part of.”

      Ryan nodded.

      “I went to Arizona State University and lived at home to save money. I have a bachelor degree in social work and another in human services. When I was close to graduating, I got on the Internet to see what jobs were available, found the agency here in Ventura, and as they say, the rest is history.”

      “Interesting. You have two degrees?”

      “It made sense at the time.” Carolyn laughed. “Looking back I wonder how I did that, because it seemed I was always studying and never getting enough sleep.”

      “Do you have brothers and sisters?”

      “No,” Carolyn said, redirecting her attention to her plate. “I’m an only child.”

      Because special needs children require a great deal of time, energy and money to raise, she thought. Due to that her parents didn’t have the big family they’d originally planned on, but continually assured her that she was so precious to them it didn’t matter one iota.

      “Did you have a happy childhood?”

      “My goodness, I feel as though I’m being interviewed for a magazine article or something,” Carolyn said, forcing a smile to her lips. “What about you? Do you have siblings?”

      “An older sister.” Ryan studied Carolyn for a moment as he caught the fact that she had avoided answering his question about her childhood. “It’s a cool story. My father was a police officer and met my mom when she was newly divorced and very pregnant. He ended up delivering my sister himself before the ambulance crew got there. He considered Patty to be his daughter even before she was born.”

      “Oh, that is so sweet, so romantic. And then later they adopted you?”

      “Yeah,” Ryan said, nodding. “My dad had mumps way back when and wasn’t able to have kids. So…after a ton of paperwork and months of waiting, they flew to Korea and got me when I was six months old. End of story.”

      “But it really isn’t, is it?” Carolyn said softly, looking directly at him. “You had a difficult time adjusting.”

      Ryan lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Off and on. I think it was a bit rougher for me because I was half-Korean and half-American. But enough of this, unless you want me to rattle off a bunch of Korean for you. I took a class in the language before I made a trip to Korea about a year or so ago. I learned enough to get by over there, but I guess Korean spoken with an American accent sounds pretty weird, because I set off a bunch of people in fits of laughter at times when I was attempting to communicate with them.”

      “Did you enjoy your visit there?”

      “No,” Ryan said. “Are you going to have room for dessert? They have a Black Forest cake here that is sensational.”

      In other words, Carolyn mused, anything that