The Favor Read online

  “And you were right there cheering me on after I met Hunter.” Rory took her hand.

  “In fact, if you hadn’t brought it up, we were going to suggest that you become more socially active and get out and meet someone,” Natalie admitted.

  “Following Harry’s advice has been very good for us, so if you’ve decided to take a lover, we’d hardly be the ones to give you any grief,” Rory added.

  Even as relief flowed through her, Sierra felt nerves once more begin to jump in her stomach. They weren’t going to argue. She felt as though she’d geared up for a battle and the enemy had turned tail and run before she’d had a chance to fire off the first shot.

  “You mentioned a plan,” Natalie said. “I’d like to hear more about that.”

  “Me, too,” Rory said. “We might have some suggestions.”

  Sierra nearly smiled as she reached into her bag for her note card. “That’s more like it. For a minute I thought that perhaps my sisters had been replaced by aliens.”

  Natalie’s brows shot up. “We just want the chance to offer advice. Isn’t that what sisters are for?”

  “Yes,” Sierra said as she sorted through the contents of her bag.

  “How many steps?” Natalie asked. “With Chance, I only needed about three.”

  “Ha!” Rory pointed a pepper strip at Natalie. “I win. I only needed one step with Hunter.”

  Sierra could feel her day planner, her inhaler, the pills, and the pack of note cards. Frowning, she opened the mouth of the bag wider. The single blue note card listing the steps wasn’t there. Had she dropped it in the bar? If she went back to look for it, she might run into that stranger again.

  Pushing the thought and the temptation firmly out of her mind, she cleared her throat and focused her attention on her sisters. “As part of my research on my new book, I’ve been studying the sexual practices of urban dwellers.”

  “City people?” Rory asked.

  Sierra nodded and then took another sip of her martini. “Rad and George have been kind enough to allow me to do some of my research right here on Wednesdays when they reserve this dining room for speed dating.”

  “Speed dating?” Natalie asked.

  “You know,” Rory said, “it’s kind of like musical chairs. Remember the episode they did on Sex and the City with Miranda. She talked to each date for about ten minutes to see if something clicked.”

  “Whoa.” Natalie’s frown deepened as she studied Sierra. “You’re going to choose a lover during a ten-minute conversation?”

  “No. The speed date is step one,” Sierra explained. “Step two is to analyze the data I collect and then select a lover.”

  “Time out,” Rory said. “A speed date is just a prelude to a real date. How can you possibly gather enough data to select a man as a lover?”

  “By using the time efficiently. I see no reason to bother with casual conversation. After I tell them that I’m looking for a lover, I’m going to ask each man a few questions. Their answers will provide me with a profile of just what kind of lover they will make.”

  Rory and Natalie exchanged a glance, then looked at Sierra.

  Sierra began to chew on her bottom lip again. These were her sisters all right. She’d lost count of the times that Natalie and Rory had looked at her in just this way when she was growing up, as if she were the alien. “You don’t think it will work?”

  “No.” Her sisters spoke in unison, and then Natalie said, “That’s not it. We think it might work too well—especially if you tell them right up front that you’re looking for a lover.”

  “I don’t see why I should hide my intentions.”

  Natalie shook her head. “There are times when a little subtlety is…advisable.”

  “You don’t know what kind of men come here. They could take advantage of you,” Rory added.

  “But I do know what kind of men come here. I’ve been studying them for three months now. My research assistant and I have taken copious notes and written up several case histories.”

  “As a psychologist, you know that people lie,” Rory said. “They can easily pretend to be something they’re not.”

  Sierra frowned.

  “Right. We all wear disguises,” Natalie added.

  “During that speed-dating episode on Sex and the City, even Miranda lied,” Rory said. “Didn’t she tell one guy that she was a flight attendant?”

  Sierra set her clasped hands on the letter. “All right. Perhaps, I won’t tell them straight out that I’m looking for a lover. But I’m going to ask them some questions.”

  “Such as?” Rory asked.

  “They’re very simple—kind of like a Rorschach test without the pictures. Things like what kind of musical instrument or breed of dog would you like to be, or what three things would you take to a deserted island with you?”

  “And from that you’ll learn…?” Rory asked.

  Sierra could feel her cheeks redden. “The subject’s answers will provide a profile of his sexual preferences as well as indicate his style of lovemaking.”

  “Really?” Rory asked.

  “My research assistant, Zoë McNamara, and I have been testing it on volunteers. When we interview the test subjects, we’ve found that our profiles have been quite accurate.”

  Natalie tapped her fingers on the table. “What will you do with your results?”

  “I’ll take them home and run a match with my own profile. After that, I’ll contact prospective lovers according to how well they match up with me.”

  For a moment, neither one of her sisters said a word.

  “You don’t think it will work?” Sierra finally asked.

  Natalie drank some of her martini, then said, “I’ve no doubt that you’ll probably get an accurate profile of the parties involved. But what you’ve described is a very…cerebral process. And taking a lover—well, it’s a very physical thing. There has to be a certain…chemistry. I’m not sure you can predict that with a quiz.”

  Rory leaned forward. “I’m on the same page here as Nat. Did you ever give this quiz to Bradley?”

  “Well, yes,” Sierra replied.

  “How well did his profile line up with yours?” Rory asked.

  “Almost perfectly.”

  Rory turned her hands over, palms up. “There you go. A perfect match, but no chemistry. Your relationship has remained platonic. That’s not a recipe for success in a love affair.”

  “The up side is she’ll be right there at a table with them. She could shake their hands,” Natalie pointed out.

  “Right,” Rory said.

  Natalie turned to Sierra. “The important thing is not to over-think this whole thing. You have to learn to trust your feelings. If an electric shock goes up your arm and right down to your toes, then you might want to move that candidate to the top of your list—no matter what the quiz results tell you.”

  “Or if you look into his eyes and your knees turn to jelly, he’s another prime candidate for a lover,” Rory said. “The first time I met Hunter, it was his eyes. He looked at me as if he were the Terminator and I was his prey. I lost every thought in my head.”

  Sierra drew in a deep breath. “I don’t usually have that kind of reaction to men.” Except to the stranger she’d just kissed in the bar.

  “Then it’s high time you did,” Natalie said.

  “And under no circumstance should you take a lover unless you do,” Rory added.

  “One thing more,” Natalie said. “Once you’ve found a candidate, I want the name so that I can run a check on him.”

  Rory shot Sierra a sympathetic glance. “That’s what comes of having a sister who’s a cop.”

  “And if your experiment works, Rory will press you for an interview so that she can write the whole thing up in Vanity Fair. That’s what comes from having a sister who’s a journalist.”

  For the first time since she’d pushed her way through the front door of the Blue Pepper, Sierra felt some of her apprehension ease. Oh,
the nerves were still dancing in her stomach, but she was going to go through with her plan, and she felt much better that she was doing it with her sisters’ approval. And Harry’s. Raising her martini, she said, “To chemistry.”

  “To chemistry,” her sisters repeated.

  “And to Harry,” Sierra added as she touched her glass to theirs.

  3

  THE BEATLES ratcheted up the rhythm on “Yellow Submarine” just as the first raindrops splattered against his windshield and the cars in front of him slowed to a crawl. Ryder slammed on the brakes and hit the button to put the top up on his car. Then, cutting into the far-left lane, he gained a dozen car lengths before those vehicles also came to a halt.

  The skies opened up with a vengeance. As the minutes ticked away without even a trickle of movement in any lane, the Beatles ended their song, and the last hope Ryder had of getting to the Blue Pepper by five o’clock evaporated. Mark Anderson was going to have to wait.

  He wasn’t pleased because his intuition told him that Mark needed more than advice. But something had come up that had made time tight for Ryder today.

  Jed Calhoun had called him late last night, and he could hardly refuse to do a favor for an old friend. Especially when that friend was in trouble. He and Jed had worked for the government in a special-operations unit, and the man had saved his life.

  According to Jed, the last job he’d done for the government had gone wrong, and he’d become the scapegoat. Clearing Jed’s name was just the kind of job that Ryder liked. So today he’d settled his old friend on the houseboat he kept on the Chesapeake. Jed’s safety would be assured there until they handled the problem.

  And if the trip to the houseboat had allowed him to get in a little fishing, well, a man had to recharge somehow.

  He fiddled with the radio dial, switching to an all-day news station that offered traffic updates. But he spotted the medevac helicopter overhead before the announcement was made about the fifteen-car pile-up about a mile ahead.

  Leaning back, Ryder willed his tension to disappear. His two years in the special operations unit he and Jed had served in had taught him the value of channeling frustration away. No way was he going to lecture himself that he wouldn’t be in this situation if he’d stayed in the city.

  For the time being, there was nothing he could do. An accident would take time to clear. The emergency vehicles would be slowed down because of the rush-hour traffic and the weather.

  For five minutes, Ryder focused on relaxing both his mind and his body, something that his afternoon of fishing hadn’t quite accomplished. Try as he might, he couldn’t quite clear his mind of two problems. First of all, with every minute that ticked by, his intuition was telling him that Mark needed him. Spurred by his thoughts, he reached for his cell, punched in the number that Mark had given him and left yet another message on his voice mail. Mark hadn’t been answering his cell since Ryder had taken his call the night before. Not a good sign.

  That done, his mind drifted to his second problem—the other person who’d been haunting his thoughts—Dr. Sierra Gibbs.

  How often had he thought of her in the past twenty-four hours? Too often. How much did he want to kiss her again? Too much. How many times had he reached for his phone to call her? Too many.

  Ryder shifted into a more comfortable position, tucking his hands behind his head. What exactly was it that had kept her in his thoughts for a night and most of the day? Not the fact that she was beautiful. Of course, he’d been attracted by that. He was a man. But his fascination with Dr. Sierra Gibbs went deeper. First of all, there was her response when he’d kissed her. She was so generous, holding nothing back. And there was the innocence he’d sensed beneath the passion. That had certainly pulled at him too.

  Dr. Sierra Gibbs was a puzzle: nervous, passionate, innocent, honest. Those eyes couldn’t lie. Maybe it was the honesty that drew him the most. And dammit, he’d always liked puzzles.

  Most women, he could figure out. His mother, who’d left him for a man who’d promised money and didn’t want a kid, had been easy to peg. And his aunt, who’d taken him in and loved him unconditionally until she’d died, he’d come to understand too, and he still mourned the loss.

  And then there’d been the women he’d dated—well, he’d had an understanding with them. Any relationship he’d ever had with a woman had been simple and uncomplicated and based on mutual pleasure. Mostly, they’d parted as friends. And when he’d had regrets, they’d been temporary.

  But none of those women had ever touched him the way that brief meeting with Sierra Gibbs had.

  As ridiculous as the idea was, he couldn’t rid his mind of the suspicion that the woman was actually thinking of taking a lover based on that to-do list. Perhaps she already had. The thought of that had been gnawing at him all day. He didn’t like the idea one bit. If she was going to take a lover…

  With a sigh, Ryder reached for his phone again. In his experience, the best way to solve a problem was to face it head on. Maybe his life was due for a bit of complication. He punched in the number that he’d memorized from her card the night before.

  SURVEYING THE MESS on her usually neat desk, Sierra was chewing on her bottom lip when the phone rang. “Yes?”

  “Dr. Gibbs?”

  “Yes.” She recognized the voice immediately. She’d been thinking about him all day. Daydreaming about him. A part of her had been wishing that he’d call. Another part of her, the old Sierra, had been hoping that he wouldn’t. She’d gotten over the first two hurdles of her plan—opening the letter and telling her sisters—but now that she was faced with implementing it, the old fears and insecurities had resurfaced. She was back to feeling like Jane Eyre again. “It’s you, isn’t it? You’re the man I met in the Blue Pepper last night.”

  “To be a bit more precise, this is the man you kissed in the Blue Pepper last night. Is it raining there yet?”

  “No.” She could hear the grin in his voice, and picturing it made her remember his mouth. When her knees weakened, she sank into her chair. How could he have this effect on her?

  “I didn’t expect you to call. What do you want?”

  “For starters, I want to kiss you again.”

  Sierra’s breath caught in her throat as the little thrill moved through her. She swallowed as a burst of panic followed in its wake. “I…think the kiss was a mistake.” As soon as the words were out she bit her bottom lip. Oh, yeah. Timid little Jane was back all right.

  “That’s an interesting theory, Doc. We can test it the next time we kiss.”

  “That’s not going to—” Sierra cut herself off. The last thing she wanted to do was to issue a challenge. He’d already told her the danger in doing that. She’d spent a long, sleepless night and most of the day thinking about this man and his effect on her. The pile of folders in front her testified to how little work she’d accomplished, and she’d just come from explaining to her research assistant that she was behind.

  She had a pretty good idea that the memory of that kiss was the reason she was backsliding. She’d already decided that this man was not the type she’d be able to follow a five-step plan with. Last night they’d nearly jumped to step five after one kiss! And she’d convinced herself that she needed her plan. It was her security blanket.

  “You were about to say?” he prompted.

  “Something I’m sure I’d regret.”

  He laughed and the sound had her lips curving. She could picture him in her mind quite easily. Right now, there was an engaging gleam of laughter in his eyes and a smile curving his mouth.

  That mouth. She tried to erase the image from her mind, but a whirlwind of sensations was already whipping through her. This—this was what she was afraid of. But there was a part of her that had been dreaming of this and more…

  “Fess up, Doc. You were about to say that we weren’t going to kiss again. And I had my counterargument all ready.”

  “Your counterargument?”

  “Be pre
pared is my motto. Picked it up in the Boy Scouts. You want to hear it?”

  Amused in spite of herself, Sierra said, “I’m not sure.”

  “Be a shame to waste it. I geared it to suit my audience. You being a scientist, I figure you’re going to be curious about whether or not what we both felt last night was some kind of fluke—a one-time flash in the pan—or whether it might happen again. And again. From a scientific viewpoint, the only way to find out would be to run the experiment again, right?”

  Sierra’s smile widened. “Nicely done. But it seems to me if I answer your question, I’m issuing an invitation.”

  “Yep. That’s the way I see it too. How about it?”

  “I don’t think so.” She bit back a sigh of regret.

  “I didn’t take you for a coward, Doc.”

  His comment hit the bull’s eye and had Sierra straightening her shoulders. “I’m not.”

  “Then how about meeting me for a drink at the Blue Pepper later this evening?”

  Panic and regret warred inside her as she took a deep breath. “I can’t. I have plans. In fact, I’m on the way to the Blue Pepper to meet someone now.”

  “Your sisters?” he asked.

  “No.” She paused, frowning. “How did you know I have sisters?”

  “I was curious so I asked the bartender about the women you were in such a rush to join last night. Look, how about if I offer you an incentive to meet with me? I’ve got something—a blue card that fell out of your bag last night.”

  Sierra felt the heat rise in her cheeks.

  “Looks like a to-do list.”

  “I…it’s…” What must he think? She placed a hand against her heart to keep it from hammering right out of her chest as the steps she’d written down scrolled through her mind. Speed date, analyze data, select a lover, select the proper sex techniques… She could pretty much guess what he might be thinking.

  “I figured you might want it back.”

  “No.” She drew in a deep breath and let it out. “It’s nothing. You can just throw it away.”

  “Sure thing. So…if you’re not meeting your sisters, I assume you’ve got a date tonight?”