High Noon Page 0,92

in his back pocket. "Included in that original order of business was my intention to suit up a bit more formally."

She stared at him, a quizzical smile on her face. Then it sank in, the smile dropped away to a look of stunned realization. "Oh. Oh, God."

"I stopped thinking," he began. "I'm-"

"It was mutual, as much me as you." Stunned, she rubbed the space between her breasts where her heart gave a couple of hard knocks. "I take the pill, but-"

"But," he said with a nod. "I can only tell you I'm habitually a hell of a lot more careful. We can exchange blood tests if you're worried. I can tell you, too, that's the first time that front door's been used in such an interesting manner. I may have it bronzed, but meanwhile, I'm sorry, and I'm willing to sacrifice a vial of blood if it gives you peace of mind."

"Let's just say we'll be more careful from this point."

"Okay."

She picked up the purse she'd dropped. "I'll be back in a minute."

She got a good look at herself in the bathroom mirror. Flushed, the sleepy cat-that-gulped-a pint-of-cream eyes, hair tumbled. All well and good, she thought. And God knew it had been good. But she wasn't allowed to be that reckless, and couldn't be again. Next date, she promised herself, there would be condoms in her purse.

When she came out he wasn't in the foyer, or the front parlor. She called out his name as she started to wander, then followed the answer to a room off the kitchen. Party room, she decided. A grand old bar, lots of cushy seating, framed posters of what she saw were reproductions of old magazine ads. All deco and stylized.

There was a card table that looked to be an antique like the bar, and display cabinets filled with this and that. Some of the this, she noted with amusement, were Pez dispensers.

"The gentlemen's club," she said.

"Sort of." He came around the bar with two glasses of wine. "Hungry?"

"I think you already took care of that."

His grin was quick and pleased. "That's good because I called in for the pizza, but I told them to bring it around in about an hour. Thought you might like to have a drink outside, maybe in the garden. Watch the sun go down."

"That's exactly what I'd like."

She went with him through a set of French doors onto the back ve randa. And there, scanning, she took a sip of wine. "Nice-the wine," she qualified. "The rest? It's like a little piece of fairyland, isn't it?"

"Lots of secret places. I got carried away with it once I really started."

"So... " She stepped down, crossed the patio. "Why aren't you hiring whoever designed and created this to design and create the gardens you want at this shop you're planning?"

"You talked to Ava."

"She's terrified and thrilled in equal measure."

"Well, here's the thing. This? I sort of designed some of it. Not really designed, but fiddled around. I had help, and it's kind of evolved and shifted and changed its original layout."

"Whatever the original, this suits you." Phoebe turned a slow circle. "Fanciful, as I said, and its lack of formality enhances the charm." He was looking at her now, only at her. "You standing in it enhances the charm."

She made a mock curtsy. "Aren't you gallant?"

"If I were, I'd have come up with something romantic about blooms or blossoms."

"You did fine. As to Ava?"

"Yeah, Ava, and the place. I don't think I'm going to have time to fiddle so much with that project, and I didn't really want the team sensibility. I wanted a woman's, a woman who understands a house like that one, an area like that one, and knows how to, well, lay the landscape, to put in the flourishes and the color so people walking or driving by will say, 'That's Savannah right there.' I like what she's done with the house on Jones."

He pushed through an ornate iron gate. Phoebe saw instantly what he'd meant about secrets. It was a little island on the island, one of tranquillity and whispers, with its little pool with floating lilies, its fanciful statue of a winged fairy.

She walked over to a small curved bench of white marble, sat. "Not just a good deed?"

"I don't mind good deeds or suspicious minds, as yours tends to be. But I don't mind profiting by being a good judge and picking people for projects they're suited for."

"Ever pick the wrong person?"

"A few