Part 10 (2/2)
prayed that he'd be able to caress her exactly the way she touched herself.
Diana. Diana. Things are certainly going to change.
Nine.
Diana
Lunch on Ovid Island was as much an affair as dinner. If you belonged to the right crowd that is.
Diana took her spot beneath a creamy white umbrella, the frosted gla.s.s table set with matching daises, plates and linens. The waiter asked her what she would like to drink.
”I think I'll take a lemonade,” she said, speaking lightly. The day before had been long and tiresome and though she'd done well to tire herself out with pleasure, a weary sensation dragged her down and kept her movements a bit sluggish most of the day.
”Are you sure you shouldn't get a coffee instead?” a deep voice sounded behind her.
There was no need to look back. She knew who it was, had imagined that voice in her ears all night. ”No, I don't need coffee. I'm quite sure about that.”
Asher came around to the front of the table and took a seat across from her. ”You look like h.e.l.l, Diana. I take it you didn't sleep well?”
”I slept well enough. And you, sir, are no gentleman. Haven't you learned how rude it is to comment on a woman's ragged appearance?” She pushed a tendril of hair in front of her face, that had been blowing in the breeze away from her face.
He smiled, though it was a bit forced. Much too put upon. ”You're incredibly feisty, do you know that?”
”Of course I do.”
”I figured as much.” He gestured to the waiter, and ordered a gin and tonic much to her surprise.
Meeting Asher in the daytime, outside of her work environment was different than meeting him at night. Diana couldn't explain it, but it was almost as if he was reserved, docile, uptight during the day, while he let his guard down at night. She supposed that was the way for many, but she had neither the energy nor desire to change herself so rapidly. She was who she was-no matter what the time of day.
”You sure start early.”
He waved her off. ”It's never too early for libations, Diana. Now, tell me, how are you doing?”
Libations? Really?
”I'm. . .fine,” she said.
”Ah. Hesitation. Tell me what's bothering you?”
How had he caught that? Was she that transparent? So see-through that this stranger, this man, could see right through her?
”It's nothing, really. My mind playing tricks on me. It's just. . .I swear there was someone in my condo last night.”
”You think there was or you know there was?” Asher leaned forward.
”Well I didn't exactly see anyone in my house. I heard something, like footsteps. And then when I went to bed, I thought I saw someone on my balcony.”
The minute it crossed her lips, Diana laughed. ”s.h.i.+t. I'm losing it. This sounds so silly.”
He reached his hand across the table and covered hers. ”You might be losing it, but there is a murderer on the loose. Someone who knows who you are and what you do. This, Cupid, as you call him or her, might be aware that you're close to the truth. If your article caught my attention, why wouldn't it catch his? I don't think it's wise for you to be alone.”
She laughed then, at the seriousness in his tone. The way his eyes commanded every ounce of her attention. ”Oh, Mr. Bishop. Don't be so dramatic. You don't have to be polite and make up excuses for me. I know what falling off the rocker looks like.”
He clenched his hand around hers. ”First, it's Asher, not Mr. Bishop. I'm not fifty. Second, I'm not being dramatic. You're a walking target and don't seem the least bit concerned about it.”
Diana pulled her hand out from underneath this. ”Well, Asher, I've been around the block before. This isn't the first monster I've investigated.”
”He's not a monster,” Asher blurted out.
”What?”
”There's a difference. There are serial killers, and there are monsters. Some might be both, but just because a man is one, doesn't mean he's the other.”
”Whether monster or just plain old serial killer, I'm not scared of Cupid, whoever he or she may be. It's obvious that the motive behind those kills are men hurting women and women hurting women. I'm not hurting anyone.”
Asher rolled his eyes. ”What's to say the motive can't switch to self-preservation? Who says Cupid won't kill you just to keep his ident.i.ty quiet?”
”You did.” She shrugged. ”You just made a valid claim that Cupid isn't a monster.”
”And what if I'm wrong? Do you need an arrow in your chest to think you might be in danger?”
Asher had a good point. But Diana Carson didn't run away in fear. No one, murderer or not, would push her out of her home, her job, or Ovid Island.
”Cupid is not after me. I truly believe that. I have nothing to worry about.”
Asher gave her a look, part condescension, part concern. ”As much as I'd like to believe you, I don't. Things are going to have to change. Are you ready for that?”
”Excuse me?” She sipped at her drink.
”You'll be moving into one of my spare bedrooms.”
Diana spat out her lemonade. ”You're kidding, right?”
His expression remained serious. ”No, I'm not.”
<script>