To Catch A Man(11)

Indie jumped and her wide-eyed gaze flew to his. She immediately dropped her gaze again, shoved the paper back into her purse and snapped it shut. Then she dragged it off the table and dropped it onto her lap. When she looked up again her face was rosy with a guilty blush.

That only made Stone smile wider. It was amusing, maybe even sweet, that she’d taken her work with her and then felt guilty at being caught. “It’s okay,” he said magnanimously. “No need to feel bad. I’ve been guilty of the same thing.”

When she gave him a look of confusion he continued. “Taking my work with me. Not leaving it back at the office.”

At that, her face cleared. “Oh,” she said, a look of relief passing over her face, “that. Yes, I…can’t seem to leave the office behind.” She gave a little giggle and it made her seem much younger and a whole lot less audacious than the woman he’d met the day before. Charming, but he sort of missed the woman he’d run into.

By the time the meal arrived Indie was almost back to what he considered her normal self, ribbing him again about his name. She was never going to let him live that one down. But then, just like the transformation that had taken place with her appearance, her personality changed again. Indie’s lips softened in a smile and her eyelids lowered seductively. “Uhm, that’s a lovely tie you’re wearing.”

Stone couldn’t even remember which tie he’d grabbed when he was getting dressed. He glanced down and saw that it was a narrow black one with thin, almost invisible strips of gray. Nothing spectacular, as far as he was concerned. But maybe it appealed to women. He had no idea, but Indie certainly seemed to like it. “Thank you.” He acknowledged her compliment with a nod and a smile.

“And your cologne,” she said softly. “What is it? Issey Miyake?”

Surprised, he nodded. She had a great nose for scents.

“Perfect choice,” she almost crooned. “It suits you.” Then she lifted her glass and the tip of her pink tongue slipped from between ruby lips to taste the dark red liquid. She took a slow sip and raised shimmering green eyes to him.

Stone almost groaned. If she kept this up he’d probably reach across the table for her and kiss her senseless. A man could only take so much. He shifted in his seat but getting comfortable was next to impossible just then.

He cleared his throat. “How’s your steak?” he asked as he picked up his fork again.

She blinked. Then, as if snapping out of a trance, she straightened up and the smoldering embers left her eyes. Instead, the mischievous light was back and her lips curled in a smile. “Very well done, like I asked.”

He looked at the dark mass on her plate. “It looks like it’s been burned to a crisp,” he said.

“Just the way I like it,” she said with a laugh and to his relief it was a real laugh, not low and sexy and disturbing, but light and melodic and genuine. Now that was the Indie he liked.

After that, they settled into companionable conversation while they ate until Indie closed her knife and fork and dabbed at her lips with her napkin. “I’ll be right back,” she said, smiling. “I just need to powder my nose.”

Gracefully, she got up and turned to go but then she spun around and grabbed her tiny purse from where she’d placed it beside her napkin. Another bright smile and then she was walking away, her hips swaying with every step.

She was almost at the door, heading out of the private dining room, when the seductive sway of her hips was interrupted by a stumble and then a curse under her breath. Stone made to get up and help her but she immediately righted herself and, still muttering, disappeared through the door.

He sank back in his chair, shaking his head. Talk about a mystery woman. One minute alluring temptress and the next, swearing like a truck driver, albeit under her breath. Which one was she, really? No wonder men could never understand women. With a man, what you saw was pretty much what you got. With a woman, you just never knew…

Stone was still pondering the enigma that was Indiana Lane when she returned. And just like before, he had to do a double take. Where was the siren who had just left the table?

Indie was approaching but this was a different Indie from the one who had arrived at the restaurant over an hour earlier. The gold eye shadow was gone and so was the pink blush that had highlighted her already lovely cheekbones. And the ruby lips she’d pursed and pouted earlier? Gone. In their place were the soft pink lips that had chastised him the evening before.

When Indie got to the table she didn’t even give him a chance to get up and pull out the chair for her. Cheeks flushed, she sat down and dropped her purse on top of the table. She let out a deep sigh. “I can’t do this. It’s just not me.”