Part 9 (1/2)

”I'm Abigail.”

”Nice to meet you. Libby and I have a date tonight. She's late.”

”I wouldn't be late if everyone would stop coming into the bathroom. Get out. All of you. This dating business isn't as easy as it looks.”

”She's cranky,” Hannah said to her sisters. ”Let's let her get dressed. Jonas can tell us why he thinks someone tried to hurt Libby.”

”Good idea,” Tyson said. ”If there was an attempt on her life, I'd like to know about it.”

”Libby!” Sarah said. ”Why wouldn't you tell me?”

”I'm getting a headache,” Libby wailed, pressing the heel of her hand against her forehead. ”And if I don't dry my hair it's going to frizz.”

”Libby,” Sarah insisted.

”Jonas doesn't know for certain. The cliff sort of crumbled and it just happened.”

”I've seen you with your hair frizzy,” Ty said. ”It wasn't that bad. More like frothy fuzz than if you stuck your finger in a light socket. Just throw on some clothes so we can go. And I was with Libby when the cliff crumbled. Erosion, pure and simple.”

”When did my hair look like frothy fuzz?” Libby demanded.

Hannah signaled frantically, but Ty frowned at the ceiling, missing her gestures completely. ”Several times. The most memorable was when you arrived ten minutes late to Dr. Chang's cla.s.s and slammed the door, interrupting his lecture. He would have thrown anyone else out, but not the royal princess, Libby Drake. Your hair was wild and you were wearing jeans with a frayed hem and a hole in the right back pocket. Your s.h.i.+rt was two sizes too big and you had it knotted around your waist.”

Libby pointed to the door. ”Get out. Get out right now.”

”I'm rather impressed he remembered every detail of what you were wearing when it was several years ago,” Sarah said.

”You get out, too,” Libby said. ”My hair is not wild.” She glared at everyone until they filed out. As soon as the door closed, she pulled the towel from her hair and stared at her image in the mirror. Her hair was wild, but it wasn't her fault. She needed to tame it the moment she was out of the shower. And she still had those jeans. They were her all-time favorite. She'd even thought about wearing them to dinner, but now she'd have to find something else. The water had washed away the dirt, but she still had a racc.o.o.n mask from her sungla.s.ses and her nose was bright red. Libby sighed and gave up. There was no miraculously saving the evening. Ty had already seen her as she really was.

Chapter Six.

”THE Chinese ideogram for trouble symbolizes two women living under one roof. What do you suppose the ideogram for seven women under one roof is?” Tyson asked as he broke off a piece of freshly baked bread.

”Joy,” Libby answered immediately. ”I like this place. I come here sometimes with my sisters. The food is excellent.” She tried to relax, to just breathe and not blurt out that she didn't date much and was terribly uncomfortable. He'd probably laugh at her. She flew all over the world and exuded complete confidence in every area of her life except her personal one. The truth was, she had no idea why she was sitting across the table from Tyson Derrick.

”I knew you liked the restaurant.”

She sat back in her chair and regarded him over the flickering candle. The shadows on his face emphasized his good looks, the stubborn set to his jaw and the sensual shape of his mouth. He wore a dark jacket over a blue s.h.i.+rt and faded blue jeans rather than slacks. Libby thought he looked incredible. ”You seem to know a lot about me.”

”People have a tendency to talk about your family.”

Libby set her gla.s.s down and looked him directly in the eye. There was something about the way he said it, his tone, a curl of his lip, maybe even contempt in his gaze. ”What does that mean?”

He shrugged. ”Your family likes publicity. I think that's common knowledge.”

She stiffened. ”I am not going to sit with you and have dinner while you make disparaging remarks about my family. I can leave right now if you'd like.”

”Don't be silly, Libby. You're too sensitive when it comes to your family. Of course people talk about them. Hannah is a supermodel. Her face is everywhere. Joley sells out every concert. If she makes a CD, it sells over a million copies immediately and hits number one on the charts. She wins every music award possible. Kate's books are bestsellers and stay on the Times list for weeks.”

”That's only three of us, Ty. I'm a doctor, Sarah does security and Abigail is a marine biologist.”

”And Elle? She does seem to manage to fly under the radar.”

Libby's gaze s.h.i.+fted away from his. ”Elle programs computers.”

Tyson smiled at her. ”Don't ever try to play poker, Libby. The point is, all of you are well known, whether you like it or not. Doesn't going into the music industry or modeling or even writing books demonstrate a need for attention?”

”No.” She glared at him. ”Joley plays music because it's who she is. She happened to get lucky and make it big, but that's beside the point. She was born to make music and Kate has to write. She'd be writing whether she was published or not. Abigail loves the ocean and sea life. I needed to help people.” She leaned her chin into her palm. ”What about you? Why do you work in a laboratory and fly rescues in helicopters?”

His eyebrow shot up. ”You don't think it's for humanitarian reasons?”

”No. I think you're very removed from the human race most of the time, Ty. That's part of the reason you don't understand my family.”

The waiter placed the plates in front of them and Tyson waited for him to leave before he sat back in his chair and regarded her through half closed eyes. ”I suppose I am. I wish I could tell you I find cures for various diseases because I want to help mankind, but I'm just not that nice.”

He wanted to lie to her, to give her an answer that would make her admire him, but he wasn't about to deceive her. Her entire life was built around a deception and those closest to her continued to perpetuate it. He loved looking at her, sitting across from her watching the shadows play across her face, and it suddenly occurred to him that he should exercise a little diplomacy-an art he'd never bothered to learn.

Libby studied his face. There was an expression in his eyes, hunger, desire, longing, she couldn't describe it exactly but she knew he hadn't wanted to tell her the truth. ”You aren't as bad as you think you are. You've done a lot of good, Ty.”

”For selfish reasons.”

She shook her head. ”Is it selfish of Joley to need to play music? Or Kate to write books? You do what you do because your nature demands it. You have to find answers. You were driven in college and you still are as an adult.”

Deep inside his gut twisted and a vise seemed to squeeze his heart. She was so nonjudgmental, accepting his need, the furious compulsions that drove him, that kept him in his laboratory for weeks and months. The need was so strong and he was so focused at times he had complete tunnel vision, uncaring of his own health or the needs of the people around him. No one, not even Sam, had ever understood his relentless pursuit of science let alone simply accepted it as being integral to his nature.

He was all too aware of her sitting across from him. Desire spread like fire, leaping through his body, igniting every nerve ending until he was acutely aware of every breath she took. His mind captured and stored every detail, the way she turned her head, the way her hair fell like tousled silk around her shoulders so that he needed to feel it against his skin. Everything about her intrigued him-and it always had.

He took a sip of wine and allowed his gaze to drift over her with infinite slowness. He could look at her forever. It was silly, really, how much he loved looking at her. He'd discovered the pastime in college when he was bored with his cla.s.ses. She was so transparent, expressions chasing across her face, her eyes lighting up when she laughed-and there was her mouth. He loved her mouth, the way her lips were full and turned up at the corners. The way she could look s.e.xy with her hair a mess, no makeup and in jeans, like now. Who else could do that? He had a sudden impulse to lean over and kiss her. The taste of her still lingered in his mouth-and mind, making him edgy with need.

”You're staring at me, Ty.” Embarra.s.sed, Libby lifted a hand to cover her sunburned nose. She couldn't wear dark gla.s.ses at night and not be conspicuous so he was probably staring at the white racc.o.o.n mask around her eyes.

”Am I?” He had fantasized about her a million times, but he'd never once thought she would be sitting across the table from him looking shy and confused, a soft rose color creeping up her neck to draw attention to her soft skin. ”I like looking at you.”

”That's a nice thing to say. Thank you.”

”You're welcome. How much do you know about voodoo?”

”Voodoo?” Suddenly wary, Libby retreated, pulling back away from him. ”I know a little bit. Why?”

”I just find things interesting and voodoo is a practice with thousands of believers even today. It's total bunk, of course, but the people who practice it are so fanatical they can actually present genuine physical symptoms or even die when they believe they're cursed. It goes to show how powerful our minds are.”

She nodded her head in agreement. ”I've seen women who want to be pregnant so badly that they manifest all the signs. The brain is extraordinary.”

”The witch doctor holds tremendous power over his believers and yet in the end, instead of benefiting his followers, he dupes them. When you get right down to it, he's nothing but a con artist.”

”Not all of them, Ty. Many of the witch doctors I've met actually do practice natural medicine and have an extensive knowledge of herbs.”