“Joel was a spy?” Summer gasped, falling back against the pillows.
“Courier, Summer.”
She shook her head, dazed. “I can’t believe it. And he seemed like such a gentle, sweet man.”
“You wouldn’t have called him gentle or sweet if you’d seen the way he saved my neck in Beirut three years ago,” Derek informed her, absently rubbing his scarred shoulder. “Joel’s got a bit of a temper, you see.”
“So that’s why you thought it was so funny that Connie was dating him. He’s just like you!”
Derek laughed. “We’re not that much alike. But Joel won’t let Connie walk all over him like that wimpy ex-husband of hers did. She needs a strong man like Joel to keep up with her. He’ll treat her very well, but he’ll know when—and how—to draw the line when it’s necessary.”
“You are a devious man, Derek Anderson.”
“I didn’t plan this, Summer. Joel and I got out of our government jobs at about the same time. He asked me to help him set up his accounting firm, and I did. He really was a client. I never expected him to fall for Connie at my pa
rty, but when they hit it off so well, I realized they made a good couple. Who knows, they might even decide to make it permanent, like we did.”
“Did we?” Summer murmured with a secret smile, fully aware that there was one question Derek had not yet asked.
“Damn straight,” he answered cheerfully. He settled her back against his shoulder and kissed the top of her head.
“How do you feel about children, Summer-love?” Derek inquired blandly after a few minutes of contented silence.
“Children,” she repeated thoughtfully. “As in ours?”
“Umm. Eventually. When you finish school.”
“Definitely worth consideration,” she told him gravely, dropping a kiss on his jaw.
“I might even let them make their own decisions, once in a while,” Derek quipped with wry self-humor.
“I’m sure they’ll appreciate it,” she murmured, already picturing the battles sure to take place in the Anderson home when their daughter became a teenager. Summer was enthralled with her vision of the future.
“When will you marry me?”
She smiled brightly. “I wondered when you would get around to asking me.”
“So answer me. When?”
“One month.”
“That long?” he asked, dismayed.
“Our families are going to be in shock as it is,” she pointed out. “We’ve only known each other for two weeks.”
“I’d have married you last weekend if you hadn’t been so damned stubborn about giving me time to think,” he growled. “All right, Summer-love, you have one month. Not a day longer, you hear?”
“I hear, darling. One month.”
She snuggled against him once more, then lifted her head again with a frown.
“Now what is it?” Derek asked.
“You’re sure my leg doesn’t bother you?”
“Dammit, Summer. Of course it bothers me. For your sake, not for mine. It tears me up to think of you bleeding and in pain, and of the sacrifices you had to make. I wish for your sake it had never happened, but it doesn’t make the least bit of difference in my feelings for you. Would it matter to you if I were the one with the game leg?”
“No, of course not. But you love sports so much.”