his eyes as gray as rain clouds. And with his image came the memory of his finely sculpted lips brushing across the back of her hand, searing her skin...
Butterflies danced in her stomach as she wondered if he would deliver the bed himself.
Part Three Chapter Two
The next day she was as nervous as a schoolgirl as seven o'clock approached. She had never been so anxious, or so uncertain, in her whole life. She had hardly spoken a dozen words to the man, yet she had thought of little else since they met. His image was permanently etched in her mind. She could still hear the sound of his voice, soft yet deep.
The rumble of a truck sent her running to the living room window. Her heart seemed to skip a beat when she saw him pull up in front of the driveway.
Her stomach was churning with excitement as she ran to the door. She looked out the peephole, watching him as he opened the door of a late-model black Chevy pickup and stepped out. He wore a pair of black jeans, a dark-green T-shirt, and a black leather jacket that seemed to emphasize his broad shoulders. She had forgotten how big he was.
Her mouth went dry as she watched him walk to the rear of the Chevy. He lowered the tailgate and then, with no apparent effort, picked up the bed frame and carried it toward the house.
Adrianna opened the door as he reached the porch. "Hi." She opened the screen door, then stepped back so he could enter the house, frowning when he remained on the porch. "Come on in."
Foolish girl,Navarre mused as he crossed the threshold.It was never safe to invite a vampire into one's home, for, once invited, he was free to come again . But then, she had no way of knowing who, or what, she had asked inside.
And still he hesitated, some deeply buried sense of honor questioning whether he wanted to violate the sanctuary of her home.
She was frowning at him, obviously puzzled by his reluctance. Drawing a deep breath, he crossed the threshold. "Where do you want this?"
"Down the hall. First door on the left."
Adrianna ran a nervous hand over her hair. Her house, not large to begin with, seemed to shrink with his presence.
"Can I help you with anything?" she asked when he returned.
"I can manage."
He made several trips back and forth, carrying the canopy, then the mattress as if they weighed nothing at all.
As he carried the box spring into her room, she followed him down the hall.
Navarreglanced up, his gaze meeting hers for the first time. "Shall I set this up for you?"
"Please."
Removing his jacket, he tossed it over a chair, then pulled the necessary tools out of his back pocket and began to bolt the frame together.
Adrianna toyed with the collar of her blouse as she watched the play of muscles in his broad back and shoulders. He worked quickly, efficiently, with an ease and grace of movement she'd never seen in a man before. His hair fell over his forehead, and she had an almost irresistible urge to smooth it back.
Too soon, he was finished. She watched as he reached for his jacket and shrugged it on.
"I'll write you a check," Adrianna said. "How much do I owe you for delivery and set-up?"
"Nothing."
"Are you sure?"
"Quite."
"But..." She bit down on her lip, trying to think of a way to repay him for his help, to keep him there just a little longer.
"I made an apple pie this afternoon," she said cheerfully. "Would you care for a slice?"
"No, thank you."
She smiled to cover her disappointment, then turned and hurried into the kitchen to get her checkbook. In spite of his willingness to set up the bed, it was obvious that Mr. V. Navarre wasn't interested in spending any more time with her than necessary. And that was fine with her, Adrianna thought irritably. He looked like an old grouch, anyway.
"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."
Damn, he'd snuck up on her again. Adrianna whirled around, the check in her hand. "I don't know what you mean."
"I didn't mean to insult your hospitality," he explained quietly, and the sound of his voice moved over her like a caress. "It's just that I... I'm on a rather strict diet."
He didn't strike her as a health nut, and he sure didn't look as if he needed to lose weight, but she kept both opinions to herself. Instead, she shrugged, as if his refusal