aftershave.
âWant to autograph a book for me? It will keep the folks in the line behind me from getting dangerously hostile while I talk to you.â
âAnd come on to you?â Jen suggested in an audible whisper.
David didnât bat an eye. His small, rueful smile deepened. âAnd try damned hard to come on to you.â
âA bookâsure. Sure, of course.â She was almost stuttering. Flustered despite herself, she opened a book and started writing in it.
âAre you free for dinner?â he asked.
âOh, I donât knowââ she began.
Jen kicked her. Hard. She looked at Jen who was staring at her as if sheâd completely lost her mind.
She had to smile. She looked back to David. âI think that my colleague is assuring me Iâve no obligations to my publishers this evening.â
âThanks,â he said to Jen, grinning.
âMy pleasure,â Jen responded, still staring at him. âItâs the least I can do for a man honest enough to admit heâs coming on to a woman.â
âMiss Harrison, would you please do my book?â a fan asked, drawing Jenâs attention back to the task at hand.
âOh, Iâm so sorry!â Jen said, and began writing again.
âWhich hotel are you in?â he asked.
She shook her head. âMy plane was delayed. I donât have a hotel as yet. I think Iâm supposed to be at the Copley.â
âIâll pick you up here then. Meet me at the coffee cart after the show. Iâve got a car. What about your bags?â
âAll I have is one overnighter, but a car will be great, thanks. Weâll meet at the coffee cart.â
His dark eyes were on her. Sensual, amused.
âIâm sorry. Is there anything else?â
âMy book?â he said.
âOh!â She handed it to him, glad that her inscription seemed friendly, but notâ¦fawning. To David, with gratitude to a new friend in the right place at the right time! Kit Delaney.
He read it in silence, smiled, closed the book.
âThanks.â He stepped quickly out of line.
âYou know him!â Jennifer accused her softly, her head lowered as she signed a book. âNot really.â
âWhat do you mean, not really?â Jen demanded.
âIâve met him once. Before. Well, supposedly I knew him a long time ago.â
Jen handed the book to a little girl who wanted to grow up to be an artist. Despite her conversation with Kit, she managed to tell the little girl to stick to her guns.
âKit, this calls for an explanation,â Jen said.
âWeâre only here another fifteen minutesâ¦Iâve kind of told you about it before. Weâll run out for a few minutes when weâre done,â Kit told her.
Jen didnât mean to let it slide. When their signing session was finished and the next group of artists came to take their seats, Jen immediately caught Kitâs arm. âThereâs an actual sit-down restaurant with boothsbelow. Weâre going there and youâre going to give me all the dirt! Iâm so, so pleased that it looks as if youâre going to have some excitement in your life.â
âI told you, I donât really know him.â
âAh, but I think youâre going to,â Jen said sagely.
Luckily, it was deep into the afternoon, and they only had to wait a few minutes for a table. Jen was anxious, demanding that they order first.
âWe only ate three hours ago, and Iâm supposed to be going to dinner,â Kit protested.
âEat lettuce, then. Order, or we wonât get to keep the table.â
Kit ordered a salad. Jen, stating that she didnât have a hot dinner date that night, ordered a steak. She didnât intend to wait for their food to arrive, even if she did order her meat âmooing.â
âTell me about him.â
âI did. I met him at the hospital, actually, the day my dad died. I know I told you