He looked at her suspiciously. “Why?”
She returned the look innocently. “Connie tells me that you’re an expert on offering advice.” Connie had been quite vocal in her displeasure with Derek’s heavily paternal treatment of her. She’d informed Summer that Derek offered advice to struggling businessmen during working hours and to his resentful younger sister in the little free time his career left him.
Derek winced, obviously well aware of his sister’s opinion of his “advice.” “I think I’ll pour myself a drink.”
Summer laughed softly. “Why don’t you do that? Would you like some punch? It’s pretty good, though God only knows what’s in it.”
“No, thanks. I’ll pass.” He reached for a bottle of Scotch, splashing a generous amount over two ice cubes in a glass that looked suspiciously like a jelly jar.
Summer exhaled dramatically. “Okay, we’ll drop the subject of your present career. How about your former one? Were you truly just a government gofer, as Connie likes to say, or were you really something more exciting, like a spy?” Actually, Connie had been rather vague about what Derek had done for the fifteen years prior to settling in Sausalito, but Summer had understood that he’d worked in some sort of diplomatic capacity that had kept him on the move from one American embassy to another.
Derek answered without changing expression. “A spy, of course. But I try not to spread that around.”
Delighted with his answer, since it indicated that he did possess a sense of humor, Summer smiled brightly. “Of course not. Tell me, Derek, was it terribly exciting?”
“Terribly.”
“And chillingly dangerous?”
“Chillingly.”
“And desperately romantic?”
“Desperately.”
She laughed and leaned against the bar, cocking her head to meet his studiously grave expression with a friendly smile. “You have such a colorful way with words, Derek. Are all spies as silver-tongued as you?”
He nodded. “Just like James Bond.”
“Why in the world would you leave such an exciting life to become an ordinary California businessman?” she asked tauntingly.
He shoved one hand into the pocket of his brown slacks and leaned beside her, his drink held loosely in his other hand. He continued to watch her with that oddly intense gaze as he answered lightly, “All that excitement, danger and romance gets boring after a while. I needed a change.”
“How fascinating.” So he was capable of returning nonsense for nonsense, Summer thought in fascination. Connie hadn’t mentioned that. In fact, Summer added reflectively, her eyes straying to Derek’s powerful chest and muscular thighs, there were several things about her brother that Connie had failed to mention. She decided it was time to test his reflexes. “So, Derek, Connie tells me now that you’ve retired from globe-trotting, you’ve decided to settle down and become domesticated. Looking for a wife?”
He had just taken a sip of his Scotch. For a moment Summer thought he might choke, and she watched expectantly. Instead, he swallowed, set his glass on the bar and leaned even closer so that his chest brushed her shoulder. “Perhaps,” he agreed. “Are you applying for the position?”
Summer chuckled and lifted her plastic tumbler in a mock salute. “Good comeback, Derek.”
She imagined that his almost imperceptible smile was reflected in his metallic eyes. “Maybe I was serious.”
“I think you should know I’m not exactly good wife material.”
“Why not?” he inquired, looking admirably un-fazed by the personal nature of his conversation with this impish stranger.
She lifted her watermelon-painted fingertips and began to enumerate. “A respectable businessman-type such as you would want someone punctual, fond of schedules. I’m neither. I’m not particularly well educated. I dropped out of college in the second s
emester of my sophomore year. The only thing I’m serious about is not being serious. I’m not socially or professionally ambitious. I require a great deal of attention and I like being entertained. Connie says you’re a real sports nut. The only sports I participate in are people-watching and an occasional card game—for fun, of course. Do I sound like the woman you’ve been looking for?”
“No,” he answered genially. “You don’t sound at all like the woman I’ve been looking for. Perhaps I’ve been looking for the wrong kind of woman.”
Summer’s smile grew even more brilliant, though she wished rather breathlessly that he would step back just a little. She was entirely too aware of the feel of him against her shoulder. “I like you, Derek Anderson,” she told him candidly. “Connie forgot to mention that her brother can be charming when he chooses to be. You and I might even manage to become friends.”
The suggestion of a smile faded abruptly from Derek’s eyes. “I can’t seem to accomplish that feat even with my own sister.”
Summer caught the undercurrents of pain in his voice. “I don’t think Connie knows that you want to be her friend,” she told him carefully.
He exhaled through his straight, sharply carved nose and changed the subject. “So what kind of man are you looking for, since you’ve turned up your nose at respectable businessmen? Or are you looking?”