At The Playboy's Command. Robyn Grady
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heaven. “What’ll it be, sugar?”
“Coffee’s good,” he said, sliding the menu aside.
He’d been told anything ordered here was tasty and filling, but his appetite was lost, wondering what Nita had whipped up for breakfast this morning. Not to mention his obsessing about whether Elizabeth had tossed and turned all night, too.
He hadn’t been able to get that confounded kiss out of his head.
Of course, that could never happen again, Daniel told himself, scalding his tongue on a long pull from his cup. He was having a hard enough time making this trip a positive experience without throwing a gorgeous heiress held to ransom by her deceased parents into the mix.
Was he ever pleased that part of his past—having no say in where he went, how long he stayed—was well behind him. After the constant struggle of being shuttled between homes, between states, no way could he tolerate Elizabeth’s situation. And while nothing would change the fact that he found Miss Milton beyond attractive and interesting and charming, truth was he’d lost a little respect for her. If his parents had tried to blackmail him like that at her age, he’d have told them to go to hell in a handbag.
Rand was dabbing his mouth with a napkin. “What are you planning to do about the design?”
“Scrap it.”
Reaching for his cup, Rand froze. “You mean everything?”
“You were at the meeting. The black plague was a bigger hit.”
“Personally, I thought that model depicted the Old West at its best.”
“Point is this isn’t the Old West. Not anymore.” Daniel finished his coffee and signaled for another. “Abigail’s a friend but maybe I ought to retract my offer to submit.”
Hell, he should be home, preparing for next month’s visit from a client who needed a design for a new supermall, not downing coffee in a diner that looked like a reject from the fifties.
Leaning over the table, Rand dropped his voice. “You don’t need this job, boss. Your friend will understand.”
Understand? Abigail would most likely kick her heels if he suggested she might like to try someone else. The jet was fueled, ready to shoot them back to New York the moment he gave the word. Daniel took in the red-and-white upholstered booths, the diner’s sleepy clientele.
What the hell was he doing wasting his time here?
Across the table, Rand nudged his chin at the entrance. “Look who just walked in.”
A shiver running up his spine, Daniel spun around. Elizabeth Milton was sashaying inside like she’d been doing it all her life, which she had. Daniel told his heart to quit pounding. He didn’t know how she did it, but the woman looked even hotter this morning than she had last night. A pale pink dress with a matching short-sleeved jacket and pumps that drew the eye up over the splendor of those long, shapely legs. Tiny waist. Ample bust. Every line, every crest and valley was perfection. Then there were those lips …
When a throb kicked off low in his belly, Daniel panicked and pushed to his feet. He’d pretty much made up his mind to pull up anchor. That Elizabeth Milton had strolled in now made no difference. They’d already bade each other goodbye and good luck. They had nothing more to say.
While he slapped a few bills on the table, Elizabeth stopped to speak with a woman by the counter. From her relaxed body language, it was someone she’d known a long time. Daniel shoved his wallet in his back pocket while Rand collected his laptop and sidled out of the booth, too. Elizabeth had her back to them. If he hurried, he could save them both an awkward moment and duck out before she was any the wiser.
He headed for the door, Rand hot on his heels.
“I can make myself scarce,” Rand said, “if you want to, you know, say hi.”
Still striding, Daniel glared over his shoulder. “We’re leaving here together, packing up and saying goodbye to Royal for good.”
Rand’s mouth swung to one side. “You can tell Elizabeth Milton that. She’s on a crash course, headed this way.”
Daniel realigned his vision at the exact moment he plowed into something … someone. On reflex, his arms shot out and caught Elizabeth’s upper arms as she emitted a cry of surprise and toppled backward. Daniel swore under his breath.
Idiot. He should’ve watched where he was going. Now, not only did he and Elizabeth have to face each other, they’d made physical contact, skin on satin skin, and that was bad news. Those big green eyes, that fresh sweet scent. If they’d been alone, he’d have gone against every scrap of common sense he possessed and kissed her again.
He made sure she was steady on her pretty pink heels then, pasting on a smile, he released his hold and dug both hands safely away into his trouser pockets.
“Elizabeth. Hey, what a surprise.”
“You here trying some of our world-famous breakfast tacos?”
“Just coffee this morning.”
“Pining for Nita’s cooking?”
He slowly smiled. “That’s probably it.”
After the way they’d parted last night, why was she being so friendly? He wasn’t getting even a hint of frostiness. No sign of embarrassment. In fact, she radiated confidence. It was as if that moment last night in the moonlight had never happened. She said she’d been kissed before. Maybe this kind of thing was a regular occurrence.
Rand was easing around them. “I’m off. Lots to do.” He sent a smile to Elizabeth, a conspiratorial wink to Daniel, and made a beeline for the door. Daniel scowled after him. Traitor.
But if Elizabeth was big enough not to hold a grudge, considering he’d been the one to make that rash move in the first place, shouldn’t he show manners enough to give her a polite moment now? Not that he intended to drag it out. He had a phone call to make. Packing to do.
So why, when he had every intention of saying, Well, nice to have met you, have a great day, did it come out, “Would you like a coffee?”
At his offer, barely-there dimples appeared on either side of a dazzling smile. “I’d love one.”
The waitress and her coffeepot materialized beside them. “You two lovebirds need a table?”
Daniel suppressed a cough. He could take her calling him sugar, but lovebirds? Southerners were far too familiar. Talk like that could cause gossip. And gossip meant trouble.
Making certain to stand an arm’s length away from Elizabeth, he indicated the booth he and Rand had shared. “I was sitting over there.”
“Then let me clear those plates.” The waitress walked over with them, addressing only Elizabeth when next she spoke. “Word is those pesky flamingos have ended up on your front lawn.”
“I was going to make my donation today, but I thought I might keep them around a couple more days.”
The woman laughed, a throaty relaxed sound. “To scare the cows?”
“Who knows?” Elizabeth said with a cheeky grin. “They might come back in fashion.”
“Not where I come from,” Daniel muttered, sliding into that booth.
When the waitress looked at Daniel, Elizabeth explained, “Barb, Daniel here is from New York City.”
“Really? I’m hearing a lilt of an accent. South Carolina. Got an aunt from round that way.”
“I call New York home now.”
She deadpanned, “Whatever you say, sugar.” Her focus jumped to the other side of the booth, where Elizabeth was making herself comfortable. “Can I fetch you a menu, hon?”
“Just coffee,” they said together.
The