Daniel shook his head. “I’d rather hear your theory.”
“Very well. ‘Cause the high and mighty I-don’t-want-any-messy-relationships Daniel has finally fallen for a real woman. No more plastic girlfriends like Audrey et al. Congratulations, my friend, I hope she feels the same way.”
Tim lifted his glass in toast to Daniel, who just sat there, shell-shocked. He’d known it deep down, but had been unwilling to accept it, because it seemed so impossible. The jealous rage he’d felt when he’d seen Hannigan and thought he’d been one of her clients had been a clear indication of his feelings for her, but he’d tried to ignore it.
He, Daniel Sinclair, didn’t fall in love with a woman in two days, especially not one he, at the time, had believed to be a prostitute. Yet, the fact that he’d treated her more like a date than an escort from the very beginning, had shown him that there’d been something special right from the start. Right from the moment when she’d stood at the door to his hotel room.
“Tim, I think I need help.” Daniel gave his friend a serious look. “I can’t afford to screw this up. And I’m already walking on thin ice with her.”
Tim rubbed his hands. “In that case, we’ll have to devise a little plan of action.” He looked at his watch. “We have about fourteen hours, plenty of time to put a few things together. Come on, eat up, we can’t dilly dally.”
8
When the door bell rang exactly at nine o’clock, Sabrina knew who it was. She took her small travel bag and cast a look back at Holly, who stood in the door to her bedroom wiping the sleep out of her eyes.
“Breathe.” Holly gave her an encouraging smile. “You can do this.”
Without another word, Sabrina left the flat to meet him downstairs. Daniel looked relaxed in his shorts and polo shirt as he leaned casually against the hood of a red convertible. A large grin spread over his face as soon as she approached him.
Sabrina felt his eyes taking her in from head to toe despite the fact that they were hidden behind his sunglasses. She’d opted for a pair of shorts and a tank top as well as flat sandals. The weather report had promised a scorching hot weekend even in San Francisco, which was unusual. Up in Sonoma County, where they were headed, it would be a good ten to fifteen degrees hotter.
He greeted her with a friendly kiss on the cheek. “You look great.”
After stowing her luggage in the trunk, he held the door of the car open for her and closed it after she’d taken her seat.
Minutes later, they were weaving through light traffic making their way to Golden Gate Bridge. It turned out to be a smart idea to leave early. Since it would be a fog-free day, San Franciscans would use the opportunity to soak up the sunshine at the various beaches around the Bay and the Ocean, and all roads leading out of town would be choking with traffic later.
Daniel made light conversation during the entire drive north, telling her about his family back East, his temperamental Italian mother, and his American father.
“No, I’m an only child, unfortunately. I always hoped for a little brother or sister, but it just didn’t happen. They sure were trying, constantly.” He gave her a sheepish sideways glance.
Sabrina laughed. “Are you saying you listened in on your parents having sex? That’s gross!”
“It was hard to avoid. My mother is a very vocal woman. When I couldn’t take it any longer, I finally got them to move my room to the other side of the house. Now that was a relief. As much as I love my parents, I didn’t need the mental picture of them in bed together. It can really screw a kid over.”
“Have you inherited any of your mother’s traits?” As soon as she asked the question, Sabrina realized how its meaning could be completely misconstrued. And it was. Nothing escaped him.
“You tell me.”
Her cheeks burned, and she knew she blushed down to the roots of her hair. Of course he had to pick up on the sexual meaning, typical him.
“I mean her temperament and her physical appearance.” Sabrina tried to bring their conversation back on the straight and narrow.
“I’m not exactly a five foot two, curvy woman,” he started, grinning from one ear to the next, “but I did inherit her dark complexion, her eyes, and her hair. I got my physique from Dad. He’s quite an athlete. He’s a great tennis player, and he swims daily. Mamma tries to keep up with him as much as she can.”
Sabrina looked at him from the side and could instinctively imagine what he would look like thirty years older. Still the same flawless body but with some gray around his temples, a few more lines on his face, around his mouth and eyes, and still the same wicked smile.