Midnight Bayou

you?”
    “They appear to upset your moral balance, but there’s no point in them going to waste.”
    “You’re trying to make me sound like an idiot.”
    “No, you’re acting like an idiot. I’m just playing my part in your little drama. I’d like you to have them, but not if you’re going to think they’re payment for services rendered. That’s just as insulting to me as it is to you, Lena,” he said when her mouth dropped open. “Your telling me you don’t want payment for sex is telling me I’m willing to buy it from you. They’re just goddamn rocks.”
    “They’re beautiful rocks.” Damn, damn, damn! Why did the man constantly throw her off balance?
    And wasn’t it just like him, just exactly like him, to sit there, calmly watching her flash and burn?
    She took a deep, steadying breath while he looked at her with both patience and amusement. “I was rude, and Ioverreacted. I’m not used to men handing me diamonds and rubies over bowls of cereal.”
    “Okay. Want me to wait and give them to you over a nice steak dinner?”
    She gave a weak laugh, dragged her hair back. “You’re entirely too good for me.”
    “What the hell does that mean?” he demanded.
    But she shook her head, then picked up the box. She studied the earrings against their bed of velvet for a long moment before taking them out, putting them on.
    “How do they look?”
    “Perfect.”
    She leaned down, kissed him. “Thank you. They just scared me a little, but I’m getting over it pretty quick now.”
    “Good.”
    “I’m going to have to wear my hair back with them. Show them off. Damn it,” she said as she ran for the door. “I have to see.” She stopped at the mirror, held her hair back with one hand. “Oh God! They’re fabulous. I’ve never had anything so lovely in my life. You’re a sweet man, Declan. A hardheaded, crazy, sweet man.”
    “When you marry me,” he said from the doorway, “I’ll give you diamonds for breakfast once a week.”
    “Stop that.”
    “Okay, but keep it in mind.”
    “I’ve got to get on. I want to stop by and see my grandmama before I head back.”
    “Give me a ride over? I’ve got something for her.”
    Her eyes, when they tracked to his in the glass, were indulgent and just a little frustrated. “You bought her another present.”
    “Don’t start on me,” he warned, and stepped back out to gather up the bowls.
    “Why do you have to buy things all the time, cher ?”
    She knew him now, and the little ripple movement ofhis shoulders told her he was annoyed and uncomfortable. So she softened the question by giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.
    “I’ve got money,” he said. “And I like stuff. You trade money for stuff, which is more fun and interesting than having a bunch of green paper in your wallet.”
    “I don’t know. Me, I like that green paper just fine. But . . .” She fingered the diamonds at her ears. “I could grow mighty fond of these pretty rocks. Go on, get whatever you’ve gone and bought for Grandmama. Bound to brighten her day, whatever it is, ’cause it’s from you.”
    “You think?”
    “She’s sweet on you.”
    “I like that.” He turned, wrapped his arms around Lena’s waist. “How about you? You sweet on me?”
    A long line of warmth flowed down her spine, nearly made her sigh. “You make it hard not to be.”
    “Good.” He touched his lips to hers, then eased away. “I like that even better.”
    H e carried a little gift bag out to her car. It struck her as odd and charming that he would think of things like that. Not just a present, a token he could so easily afford, but the presentation of it. Pretty bags or bows, ribbons or wrappings most men—or men she’d known—would never bother with.
    Any woman she knew would call Declan Fitzgerald one hell of a catch. And he wanted her.
    “I’m going to ask you a question,” she began as she started the car.
    “True or false? Multiple choice?”
    “I guess it’s more the essay type.”
    He settled back, stretched out his legs as best he could as she started down the drive. He’d always aced his tests. “Shoot.”
    “How come with all those fine ladies up in Boston, and all the good-looking women here ’round New Orleans, you zeroed in on me?”
    “Not one of them ever made my heart stop, or sprint like a racehorse at the starting gun. But you do. Not one of them ever made me see myself ten years, twenty years down the road, reaching out to take her hand. But