"No."
"I don't want to make this any more difficult for you than it has to be."
"Then what are you doing here?"
"I've got to talk to you." He drew his lips tight and said through his teeth, "Dammit, you've got to help me, Devon."
She glanced around worriedly, as though prying eyes might be peeking at them from the other houses on the block. Finally she nodded curtly.
"Come on in." She led him through the garage, lowered the door by depressing the switch on the wall, and asked him to hold the pizza while she unlocked the kitchen door. He followed her inside and deposited the pizza on the white tile countertop.
She nicked another switch. Cold blue fluorescent lighting nickered on. "I'll be back in a minute."
She disappeared through a doorway. Lucky moved to the window overlooking her backyard. It had started to rain. Fat drops bounced on the water in the pool and splattered on the deck. They were such opulent drops, they bent down the leaves of her plants. A jagged streak of lightning divided the sky just above the horizon. Moments later it was followed by a drumroll of thunder.
"Are you hungry?"
He turned. She had come into the kitchen behind him, having changed into a pair of old jeans, a loose pullover, and a pair of soft leather moccasins. Her hair looked freshly brushed. Without the armor of her business suit she looked younger, more vulnerable.
"I guess. Hadn't thought about it."
"Do you like pepperoni pizza?"
"Sure."
"Give me a minute to make a salad."
Lucky was dumbfounded. Was she actually inviting him to stay for supper? He'd expected her to slam the door in his face—if she'd been the one to answer it. If he had encountered her husband on the other side of the threshold, he planned to ask directions or something equally as ludicrous.
When he hadn't got an answer after ringing her doorbell, he had decided to wait and see who turned up first and play it by ear from there. Being invited to dinner hadn't even crossed his mind as a possibility.
She had removed salad greens and tomatoes from the refrigerator and was calmly tearing lettuce into a bowl. He said, "You don't seem surprised to see me."
"I'm not."
He propped his hip against the counter. "How come?"
"You said you never take no for an answer from a woman." She lifted her eyes to his. "I believe you. Excuse me." She nudged him aside, reached into the refrigerator again and took out a bottle of salad dressing, and, to his further astonishment, a bottle of red wine.
She passed it to him, along with a corkscrew, which she took from a drawer. "Would you please?"
Mystified by her composure, Lucky peeled the sealing material off the wine bottle and twisted the corkscrew into the cork. He watched her set the table with two place settings. She placed several slices of pizza in the microwave oven to warm.
"Glasses?"
"Beneath the cabinet."
He noticed then that two rows of wineglass stems were hanging upside down from a rack mounted on the underside of the cabinet. He slid out two and poured each of them a glass of wine. Devon lighted a candle, placed it in the center of the table, and motioned him into a chair.
Lucky approached the table, bringing with him the two glasses of wine, along with the bottle, and sat down in the chair she'd indicated. She sat down across from him and began serving his plate from the large salad bowl. Once both their plates were filled with salad and pizza, he reached across the table and caught her hand in the act of reaching for her wineglass.
"What gives with you?" he asked tautly.
"What do you mean?"
"What happens if your husband comes home and finds us sharing a cozy candlelight dinner?"
"Would that bother you?"