Dean Collier. He was even more handsome than his photos on the internet. And even more magnetic in person. Rubbing her hands up and down her hips, she shook her head. He was rich and bored. That was the only reason she could think why he had asked for her number. Men like that weren't interested in women like her.
"I know better than to think otherwise, right Galahad?"
The dog barked in agreement and had her smiling.
*****
He drove around for a bit in the vain attempt to try and cool down. And he had to admit that he was also hoping to catch a glimpse of her. She had mentioned feeding a few homeless people with the things she had stashed away inside her purse, so if he just happened to drive past the spot, he might see her. He did not see her of course, but he saw the men gathered around a park bench partaking of the rich fare she had provided.
It fascinated him enough to slow down and take it in before driving off. He grew up in a world where checks were handed out to try and make the problems go away. His mother and sister were both on several charitable foundations. The company donated large sums of money to selected charities, but he knew they were mostly tax write-offs. He had never seen anyone in his family actively donating their time to any of the charities. There were lavish parties where people preened for the press and smiled for the cameras.
It was all for show. He belonged to a brittle and cold world that cared more for making a good impression for the public than actually caring about the needs of the unfortunate. Not all of them, he remembered as he turned into the parking lot of his townhouse and switched off the engine. The 'wives' of members of his club were making a difference. So much so that he found himself having a mind change about his own society.
Shoving the door open, he stepped out into the cool spring air, the scent of oleanders and daffodils assailing his nostrils and not in an unpleasant way. He had intended to spend the night a different way by taking his date home.
After seeing Catherine and talking to her, that had changed.
Dragging restless fingers through his hair, he firmly resolved to stop this nonsense and take his mind off her.
With that in mind, he let himself in and went upstairs. The townhouse was a split level, open concept design, with the spiral staircase leading to the upper level where his bedroom suite was in full view from the ground floor. He had deliberately ordered the design that way. He lived alone and apart from the women he brought home with him; he loved his own space. Heading towards the recessed bar in the living room, he selected a bottle of scotch and took it with him upstairs.
Chapter 1
It took him a week to find her after spending two days trying to stick to his resolve not to think of her.
And when he read the report, he hesitated and tried to talk himself out of getting in touch with her. His instinct about her was spot on. She was a kindergarten teacher at Hope Kinder Prep, an exclusive pre-K school in the beautiful suburban area of Falls Keep. He sat there staring at her picture for what seemed like ages before reading her bio. She had been teaching at that school for the past eight years and was highly respected and loved by everyone. She also taught Sunday school at the Baptist church in her neighborhood.
If that was not enough, she volunteered at several soup kitchens over the weekend and spent time trying to gather toys and other essentials for a children's home in her area.
She was a paragon of virtue, appearing sweet and unaffected. He should stay away from her. It would make sense to forget her, leave her be.
Pushing away from the computer, he started pacing. He had no business trying to get in touch with her.
There was no shortage of willing women for him to be with. He only had to make a call. Besides, he was planning on going toItaly or France for a golf tournament, and a series of endless spring parties for which he had gotten a flood of invitations.
He had earned the reputation of a playboy for a reason and was proud of it.
Until now. The voice popped into his head and had him pausing, a frown touching his forehead. Where the hell did that come from? Of course he was all right with his life. He had made the decision to go on about doing things his way after that fateful night when he was ten years old and he hadn't looked back.
He had convinced himself that he was a product of his environment. And he was, wasn't he? There was no escaping who he was or who he had become. His parents had taught him that much. They had led by example, and he was not going to allow some damn school teacher to be his judge.
He was unencumbered and certainly not hurting anyone. Before starting a relationship, he would lay down the rules: no attachment. He was generous to a fault and had always treated the woman he was with at that time with the utmost care. He was an excellent lover, because he took the time to cater to their needs. There were no complaints in that area.
His life was the way he wanted it. Pacing back to the desk, he gazed at the photo and felt his heart thudding. Christ! What wasit about this woman that was pulling at him? Raking long fingers through his already tousled hair, he decided it was time to go back to who he really was.
*****
This wasn't stalking. It was just him trying to establish something between himself and a woman he simply could not get off his mind. He wasn't a stalker, hell no! Far from it. Women pursued him. Now it was just a matter of the circumstances turning the other way.
Besides, he had a gift for her. If anything, he would simply hand it to her and just leave. If she invited him to stay, then it meant that she was interested as well.
The argument sounded weak even to his ears, but he was not going to allow that to stop him.
He thought about going to her school, but he was much too visible a person and would be recognized immediately. He also considered using his sister in the plot but dismissed that idea immediately. Irene was going through her third separation leading to divorce and had been more bitchy than usual the past couple of months. With the mood she was in, there was no way she would even consider helping him.
There was another reason why he had discarded that idea. He did not want his family involved. They had a way of tainting everything they touched or came in contact with.
So, he was doing this on his own. He had seen her leave the parking lot of the school and followed her at a distance. He already knew where she lived, of course. Parking a few blocks down, he watched as she turned into the driveway of the small cottage with the blue trimmings and flowers rioting at the base of the front porch.