tell you what, Miss Miro. I’ll come here tomorrow at four to meet you, and we’ll go together. Is that all right, Luke?”
He nodded.
Donna stared at him incredulously for a minute. It was true that he had saved her from a mugging—and possibly worse—but that didn’t give him the right to run her life as if she were a small child.
“Excuse me, Father,” she snapped, “but I am capable of giving a cab driver an address! I might have stumbled into trouble tonight, but I’m too old for a keeper!”
“Donna…Miss Miro….” Tricia murmured, distressed by the obvious tension rising between her dinner companions, “I don’t mind coming for you at all. There’s a reason.”
“Is there?”
“Yes,” Tricia said hurriedly. Luke was scowling, but she continued anyway. “We’ve been having a rather nasty rash of robberies here over the past year. The police have been floundering in all their attempts to catch this man—or men. He attacks single women coming and going from churches.” She smiled ruefully. “He’s a nondenominational thief. I really don’t mean that humorously; it’s a terrible situation, and a number of people have been hurt….”
She paused suddenly, glancing at Luke. His features seemed to be strained and tense; once again his jaw was twisted and locked. His eyes seemed to burn into Tricia like a golden blaze from hell. Tricia tore her eyes from his and continued. “A number of women have been hurt very badly.”
“I think I’d be okay in a taxi,” Donna said slowly, “but I appreciate your concern.”
“I need to go to church anyway,” Tricia said.
Donna shrugged, at a loss. “If you really want to, Tricia. I guess it doesn’t make much difference.” She laughed. “I don’t know the address of the church or the rectory anyway.”
“Excuse me, ladies,” Luke interrupted, “but I think we should order. This is Saturday night—”
“Oh, yes!” Tricia glanced quickly at her watch. “I’ll just have time….I have to be to the club by ten.”
“You’ll make it,” Luke assured her. He gazed at Donna, his dark-lashed golden gaze still seeming to be riddled with vast amusement. “Tricia sings in a small club uptown. Perhaps if you stay in New York long enough, you’ll accompany me to her show. It’s a delightful place. Elegant…and very, very intimate.”
Donna was dying to snap out that she wouldn’t accompany him to a dog fight, but she held back the thought and inclined her head slightly. “I’m hoping not to remain in New York very long, Father. Only long enough to meet with Mr. McKennon.”
He smiled, and Donna thought she would never in a thousand years trust such a smile. It was as dangerous as all hell. It touched off a chord within her that was a stimulus so strong it was terrifying.
Donna glanced quickly at her menu. The words blurred before her so she readily accepted Luke’s suggestion of the prime rib. As he ordered their meals, Donna turned her attention to the pianist at the rear of the room who played soft ballads. It was a perfect place for dinner, Donna thought. Quiet music so that people could talk, and yet a number of couples were enjoying slow dancing.
“Donna?”
She turned back to Luke, blinking. The subtle smile that belonged on either a pirate or the devil curved his lips and touched his eyes at her startled response.
“Will you join me on the dance floor? Tricia assures me she doesn’t mind in the least. It’s a slow dance so you can lean against me and your ankle won’t have to bear any weight. And it’s wrapped well. Come on, Donna.”
“No!”
The single word came out in a panicked yelp, which did her little good, because he was drawing her to her feet anyway, and rather than trip over her bad ankle, she was forced to lean on him.
“I do not want to dance!” she grated out as he led her to the floor.
“Yes, you do,” he whispered, slipping his arms around her. The entire night—or perhaps God—seemed to
He nodded.
Donna stared at him incredulously for a minute. It was true that he had saved her from a mugging—and possibly worse—but that didn’t give him the right to run her life as if she were a small child.
“Excuse me, Father,” she snapped, “but I am capable of giving a cab driver an address! I might have stumbled into trouble tonight, but I’m too old for a keeper!”
“Donna…Miss Miro….” Tricia murmured, distressed by the obvious tension rising between her dinner companions, “I don’t mind coming for you at all. There’s a reason.”
“Is there?”
“Yes,” Tricia said hurriedly. Luke was scowling, but she continued anyway. “We’ve been having a rather nasty rash of robberies here over the past year. The police have been floundering in all their attempts to catch this man—or men. He attacks single women coming and going from churches.” She smiled ruefully. “He’s a nondenominational thief. I really don’t mean that humorously; it’s a terrible situation, and a number of people have been hurt….”
She paused suddenly, glancing at Luke. His features seemed to be strained and tense; once again his jaw was twisted and locked. His eyes seemed to burn into Tricia like a golden blaze from hell. Tricia tore her eyes from his and continued. “A number of women have been hurt very badly.”
“I think I’d be okay in a taxi,” Donna said slowly, “but I appreciate your concern.”
“I need to go to church anyway,” Tricia said.
Donna shrugged, at a loss. “If you really want to, Tricia. I guess it doesn’t make much difference.” She laughed. “I don’t know the address of the church or the rectory anyway.”
“Excuse me, ladies,” Luke interrupted, “but I think we should order. This is Saturday night—”
“Oh, yes!” Tricia glanced quickly at her watch. “I’ll just have time….I have to be to the club by ten.”
“You’ll make it,” Luke assured her. He gazed at Donna, his dark-lashed golden gaze still seeming to be riddled with vast amusement. “Tricia sings in a small club uptown. Perhaps if you stay in New York long enough, you’ll accompany me to her show. It’s a delightful place. Elegant…and very, very intimate.”
Donna was dying to snap out that she wouldn’t accompany him to a dog fight, but she held back the thought and inclined her head slightly. “I’m hoping not to remain in New York very long, Father. Only long enough to meet with Mr. McKennon.”
He smiled, and Donna thought she would never in a thousand years trust such a smile. It was as dangerous as all hell. It touched off a chord within her that was a stimulus so strong it was terrifying.
Donna glanced quickly at her menu. The words blurred before her so she readily accepted Luke’s suggestion of the prime rib. As he ordered their meals, Donna turned her attention to the pianist at the rear of the room who played soft ballads. It was a perfect place for dinner, Donna thought. Quiet music so that people could talk, and yet a number of couples were enjoying slow dancing.
“Donna?”
She turned back to Luke, blinking. The subtle smile that belonged on either a pirate or the devil curved his lips and touched his eyes at her startled response.
“Will you join me on the dance floor? Tricia assures me she doesn’t mind in the least. It’s a slow dance so you can lean against me and your ankle won’t have to bear any weight. And it’s wrapped well. Come on, Donna.”
“No!”
The single word came out in a panicked yelp, which did her little good, because he was drawing her to her feet anyway, and rather than trip over her bad ankle, she was forced to lean on him.
“I do not want to dance!” she grated out as he led her to the floor.
“Yes, you do,” he whispered, slipping his arms around her. The entire night—or perhaps God—seemed to
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