hand to tap forefinger to cheek, she pretended to reconsider. "Well, except maybe for..."
The rest wasn't necessary. The Chardonnay ladies had already hightailed their now-silented giggles and their fancy-schmancy manicures halfway down the street. Squaring her shoulders, Kitty forgot all about them as she shoved open Aunt Cat's gate, determined to do whatever was necessary to stop Dylan. If someone was going to break the news that Kitty was the first Wilder woman to wed in over one hundred and fifty years, it better not be the guy she'd married.
The front door let out its usual loud squeal. It swung straight into the living room, so Kitty didn't have far to go to face the man she'd hoped never to see again.
He looked just as lean, dark, and gorgeous as he had at The Burning Rose. She suppressed a little hiccup of reaction as he met her gaze from his place on the couch. Then he unfolded his tall body and got to his feet.
Kitty blinked. Did he realize he was thwarted so soon and was leaving already? But his mean-looking motorcycle boots didn't move.
"Good afternoon," he said, nodding, his feet still not moving.
She blinked again. Then, suddenly understanding, she felt goose bumps rise on her arms. He had stood for her. As a signal of respect for her. Okay, fine, it was just a dose of old-fashioned good manners, but still, it was manners a man showed a lady.
"Hello, dear."
Kitty turned her head toward her Aunt Cat. Even at eighty and after two mild strokes, her aunt was like all the Wilder women but Kitty; she had beauty, a presence, and was ultrafeminine and completely at ease with herself. "Hi."
"Look who came by to visit me, of all people," Aunt Cat said, sounding pleased. "Dylan Matthews. Sit down, Kitty, and let me get you a glass of iced tea." She was already walking toward the kitchen, not one silver hair out of place, not one wrinkle in her long, flowered skirt and round-necked white blouse.
Glancing down at her own overall shorts and clunky sandals, Kitty felt like a female character from a Dukes of Hazzard rerun, only without the prerequisite centerfold bosom. "Thank you, I'd love a glass."
She smiled sunnily and took a seat on a nearby cushioned armchair. The instant her aunt disappeared from the room, however, Kitty transformed that sunny smile into a vicious scowl. "Why are you bothering Aunt Cat?" she whispered to Dylan. "This is between you and me."
He settled back on the couch, obviously not the least bit put out by her unwelcoming tone. "Exactly. And I suspected you'd try hiding from me here. Gee, seems I was right."
Kitty scowled again. "How did you know where my great-aunt lives anyway?"
Dylan's deep-set eyes couldn't hide his surprise. He raised his dark eyebrows. "C'mon, kid. I'm with the FBI."
Her scowl deepened. Kid. Then she swallowed, appalled by a sudden, new thought. "Are you telling me the FBI has a ... has a file on me?"
He shrugged. "Now they do."
Kitty froze. Swallowed. Tried to think. Couldn't. With a wave of her fingers, she flicked away the whole disturbing idea of an FBI file and whatever the heck that might mean. "Just swear to me," she said fiercely, returning to the crisis at hand. "Swear to me you didn't tell her."
"I haven't got around to it yet."
Kitty's heart leaped in relief and she launched herself from her chair to fall on her knees in front of his place on the couch. She took each of his legs in a desperate grip. "Don't say anything. Please." Breaking the Wilder-woman tradition was something she could maybe explain, someday. But having kept it a secret for eight years... Aunt Cat would never understand.
He regarded her with a spark of new interest in his eyes. "You know what? I kind of like you in that position."
"Ooh." As if burned, Kitty shoved away from him to stand up.
"What's the matter, dear?" Aunt Cat held out a tall, icy glass.
Kitty took it and returned to her seat, shooting a quelling look at Dylan. Then inspiration struck. She smiled sweetly. "I was just expressing my sincere disappointment that Dylan must be going. Right away."
It was Aunt Cat who looked sincerely disappointed. "But he just arrived."
Dylan grinned at Kitty. "Yeah, but I just arrived."
Kitty speared him with another pointed glance. "Yes, but he has so many people to see while he's here."
Aunt Cat sighed. "I'm sure you're right about that. Did you know this is Dylan's