As soon as Casey had learned Brand had been given his special assignment at Naval Station Puget Sound at Sand Point in Seattle, the old Irishman had contacted him, concerned about his eldest daughter.
She’s working too hard, not taking care of herself. Give an old man some peace of mind and check up on her. Only, for the love of heaven, don’t let her know I sent you.
Personally, Brand wasn’t much into this detective business. But, as a favor to his friend, he’d reluctantly agreed to look up Erin MacNamera.
He’d been ready to enter her office building when she’d stepped outside. Brand had never met Casey’s daughter, but one look at that thick thatch of auburn hair and he’d immediately known that this woman was a close relative of his friend. So he’d followed her into the Blue Lagoon.
He studied her for several minutes, noticing little things about her. She was delicate. Not dainty or fragile, as the word implied. Erin MacNamera was exquisite. That wasn’t a word he used often. Her gaze had met his once, and he’d managed to hold her look for just a second. She’d stared back at him, surprise darkening her eyes, before she’d jerked her gaze away. When he’d stepped up to her table, she d been flustered, and she d striven hard not to show it.
The more time he spent with her, the more he learned about her that amazed him. Brand wasn’t entirely sure what he’d expected from Casey’s daughter, but certainly not the enchanting red-haired beauty who sat across from him. Erin was as different from her old man as silk was from leather. Casey was a potbellied, boisterous MCPO, while his daughter was a graceful creature with eyes as shiny and dark as the sea at midnight.
Another thing, Casey had warned. Remember, this is my daughter, not one of your cupcakes.
Brand couldn’t help grinning at that. He didn’t have cupcakes. At thirty-two, he couldn’t say he’d never been in love. He’d fallen in love a handful of times over the years, but there had never been one woman who’d captured his heart for more than a few months. None that he’d ever seriously considered spending the rest of his life with.
Be careful what you say, Casey had advised. My Erin’s got her mother’s temper.
Brand didn’t feel good about this minor deception. The sensation intensified as they sat and talked over their drinks. An hour after he’d sat down with her, Erin glanced at her watch and flatly announced she had to be leaving.
As far as Brand was concerned, his duty was done. He’d looked up his friend’s daughter, talked to her long enough to assure her father, when he wrote next, that Erin was in good health. But when she stood to leave, Brand discovered he didn’t want her to go. He’d thoroughly enjoyed her company.
"How about dinner?" he found himself asking.
Twin spots of color appeared in her cheeks, and her eyes darkened slightly as though she’d been caught off guard. "Ah… not tonight. Thanks anyway."
"Tomorrow?"
Her silence didn’t fool him. She appeared outwardly calm, as if she were considering his invitation, but Brand could feel the resistance radiating from her. That in itself was unusual. Women generally were eager to date him.
"No thanks." Her soft smile took any sting out of her rejection – or at least it was meant to. Unfortunately, it didn’t work.
She stood, smiled sweetly and tucked her purse under her arm. "Thanks for the drink."
Before Brand had time to respond, she was out the door. He couldn’t remember a woman turning him down in fifteen years of dating. Not once. Most members of the opposite sex treated him as if he were Prince Charming. He’d certainly gone out of his way to be captivating to MacNamera’s daughter.
Who the hell did she think she was?
Standing, Brand started out the cocktail lounge after her. She was halfway down the block on the sidewalk, her pace clipped. Brand ran a few steps, then slowed to a walk. Soon his stride matched hers.
"Why?"
She paused and looked up at him, revealing no surprise that he’d joined her.
"You’re navy."
Brand was shocked, and he did a poor job of disguising it. "How’d you know?"
"I was raised in the military. I know the lingo, the jargon."
"I didn’t use any."
"Not consciously. It was more than that…the way you held your beer bottle should have told me, but it was when we started talking about the ferries crossing Puget Sound that I knew for sure."
"So I’m navy. Is that so bad?"
"No. Actually, with most women it’s a plus. From what I understand, a lot of females go for guys in uniform. You won’t have any problems meeting someone. Bremerton? Sand Point? Or Whidbey Island?"
Brand ignored the question of where he was stationed and instead asked one of his own. "Most women are attracted to a man in uniform, but not you?"
Her eyes flickered, and she laughed curtly. "Sorry. It lost its appeal when I was around six."
She was walking so fast that he was losing his breath just keeping up with her. "Do you hate the navy so much?"
His question apparently caught her by surprise, because she stopped abruptly, turned to him and raised wide brown eyes to study him. "I don’t hate it at all."
"But you won’t even have dinner with someone in the service?"
"Listen, I don’t mean to be rude. You seem like a perfectly nice – "
"You’re not being rude. I’m just curious, is all." He glanced around them. They’d stopped in the middle of the sidewalk on a busy street in downtown Seattle. Several people were forced to walk around them. "I really would be interested in hearing your views. How about if we find a coffee shop and sit down and talk?"
She looked at her watch pointedly.
"This isn’t dinner. Just coffee." Unwilling to be put off quite so easily a second time, Brand gifted her with one of his most dazzling smiles. For the majority of his adult life, women had claimed he had a smile potent enough to melt the polar ice cap. He issued it now, full strength, and waited for the usual results.
Nothing.