TALL DARK AND HUNGRY Page 0,65

lucky day, Terri." Vincent pushed the button to release the elevator, then flipped off the monitor. "You don't have to cook after all. It's being delivered."

Terri chuckled, but said, "I hardly think they'll be bringing anything that in any way resembles a meal. They'll just be samples--hors d'oeuvres, and bits off the menu. Nothing substantial."

Despite her comment, curiosity made Terri follow him out to await the caterer. The moment the eleva¬tor doors slid open, the deliveryman smiled at them cheerfully and wheeled out his little trolley. Stopping before them, he lifted a clipboard with a work order and read: "Terri Simpson or Bastien Argeneau?"

"I'm Terri Simpson." She stepped forward and ac¬cepted the clipboard and pen.

"Just sign on the bottom, miss," he instructed. "Where do you want this?"

"The kitchen, please." She pointed the way. "First door on the right."

Terri did a quick read-through of the paper he wanted her to sign as the men moved away up the hall, Vincent accompanying the deliveryman. Assured that it merely stated she had accepted the delivery, she signed and dated it, finishing as the men came back up the hall.

"Thanks," the delivery man said as he took his pen and clipboard back. Then he ripped off a pink copy, handed it to her, and moved back into the elevator. "Just phone the office when you've made up your mind and are ready to have the trolley taken away. Someone will come by to pick up everything."

"All right. Thanks," Terri called as the elevator doors closed. "Well." Glancing over the invoice copy she'd been given, she turned and headed to the kitchen. She was curious to see what had been sent. She expected a couple of sample dishes that were on the menu, but you never knew. "Did you look when he brought it in?" she asked Vincent as he followed her.

"No. I just watched him roll it in, then followed him out," he said. They paused by the trolley that had been left next to the small dinette set.

"Hmm." Terri glanced over the trolley. It looked rather like a chrome chest on wheels, or a chrome-colored barbecue. The top was a square lid with rounded edges and a handle. Terri grasped the handle and lifted upward, inhaling the steam released into the room.

"God," she breathed, and she gaped at half a dozen china plates of food. The caterer hadn't sent samples of different things, they'd sent two samples of everything.

"He said the desserts were in the lower drawer," Vincent spoke up.

Terri hesitated, then stepped back, only then notic¬ing that there was a lower drawer on the trolley. Grasping its handle, she pulled it out and sighed as several delicacies rolled into view. There were two of each of those, too.

"Well, as I said, you don't have to cook."

Before Terri could respond, the elevator buzzer sounded again. The actor moved to the wall panel and pushed buttons, as Terri closed the drawer and then the chest top to keep everything at the correct temperature until Bastien came back.

"Another caterer," Vincent announced. "You'll need to sign for this too, probably."

Nodding, Terri followed him back into the entry. They arrived just before the doors opened to reveal another trolley-pushing deliveryman.

"Terri Simpson?" he asked, glancing at her.

"Yes." She held her hand out for the clipboard and pen.

"Where do you want--"

"The kitchen. Follow me." Vincent turned to lead the way as Terri signed the invoice.

Chapter Eleven

Bastien tapped his foot with irritation and pressed the elevator button again. He wasn't used to waiting so long for the contraption and was becoming a bit im¬patient. This elevator only serviced the penthouse. It could stop on any floor when requested, but only if you had a key. Other than that, it had to be released from the penthouse suite itself for a straight ride from the ground floor up. Bastien didn't understand the present delay.

Just when he was about to go back into his office and call upstairs to see what was going on, the eleva¬tor arrived with a ding. Releasing a sigh of relief, Bastien stepped on board, sniffing the air as he pressed the button to take him to the penthouse. There was the faintest scent of cooked food inside. The takeout must have arrived, he realized as the doors closed and the lift started upward. He hoped the delivery guy had just ridden up and was still there. He didn't want Terri paying for the meal.

The entry was empty when Bastien stepped out of the elevator. Following the