“Ouch!” Darcy cried in mock pain. She tried to jerk her foot free, but he held on fast.
“Never insult a man within striking distance of your toes,” he admonished.
At that bizarre comment, Darcy erupted in a fit of giggles. “That’s the most ridiculous advice I’ve ever heard, but it has an endearing charm. Perhaps I can persuade Christy Joy to embroider it on a pillow for me.”
“Just be sure you give me credit for the quote. You have such a beguiling laugh, Darcy. If I were smart, I’d say good night now.”
“You’re brilliant,” Darcy reminded him.
“So I’ve heard, but it complicates my life rather than makes it any easier. Tell me what sent you running this morning, and I’ll do my best to see it doesn’t happen again.”
His fingers were working such blissful magic on her feet, she feared she might tell him anything he wished to know. “My father was a colonel in Army Intelligence and retired last year. Maybe it was finding computers and maps in a room I expected to be empty that triggered old memories, but that room struck me as a spook’s den.”
“Spook as in spy? When would I have the time to engage in espionage, and for whom? Some secret cultural affairs society?”
He looked as perplexed as she and, with the benefit of a day’s perspective, she felt extremely foolish. “Obviously I didn’t stop to consider what your purpose could possibly be. I’m sorry.”
“You’re forgiven. Did your father discuss his work with you?”
“No, never, and I’ve no idea what he actually did. My folks now live in San Antonio where my dad and one of his army buddies have opened a private security firm.”
“Body guards and high-tech security for millionaires, that sort of thing?” Griffin inquired.
“I believe so.”
Griffin patted her calf. “What’s his name?”
“Kieran MacLeod. Why, do you usually travel with body guards?” That he might actually require professional protection frightened her.
“No.” Griffin chuckled as though the thought were absurd. “Lovers of classical music are big on decorum. They’d not rip the tux off my back nor yank out handfuls of my hair.”
“Thank God.”
“Yes, I’m grateful not to be adored to that extent, although I have had several women express an interest in having me serve as their sperm donor.”
Darcy rose on her elbows. “You can’t be serious!”
“Oh, but I am. You’ve doubtless heard of the sperm bank that offers their clients a range of Nobel prize winners as prospective fathers. Why not have such an enterprise that counts artists and musicians as donors?”
“Well, with so damn many artists and musicians sleeping around, it might be difficult to charge much,” Darcy countered.
Griffin was too amused to be insulted. “That’s undoubtedly a valid point in some quarters, but I’m no slut.”
“There’s no such thing as a male slut. Men who sleep with any woman who’ll look their way are just called men. Which is totally unfair, but as you always say, we could argue that point later.”
“Hey, I’m all for equality, so I’m on your side. Now I hate to end such an entertaining evening so early, but I really do need to practice at least the pieces I’ll be playing Saturday night. I’ll have to stay in tomorrow too, but I’ll stop by before I leave Wednesday to drop off my key.”
Darcy was badly disappointed that he seemed able to tear himself away without more than a twinge of regret. She wanted him to stay, and it pained her that he had such an excellent excuse to leave. Then again, only that morning she’d used work to justify running off and leaving him. She swung her legs off the sofa, stood and stretched.
“We each have professional commitments. I’ll not fault you for keeping yours, if you’ll not complain when I keep mine,” she offered.
Griffin also stood and spread his arms in dismay. “Damn, I wanted you to be disappointed.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t devastated, but I don’t want the Seattle audience to throw rotten tomatoes at you.”
“Neither do I, but it’s unlikely any of them will come laden with bags of spoiled fruit, and they won’t be allowed to carry champagne flutes into the auditorium after intermission ends either. So even without chicken wire across the stage, I believe I’ll be relatively safe.”
Darcy walked him to the door. “I’ve never dated a man who owned his own tuxedo.”