“Yeah. Harley Buell.”
Fast and sleek. “Oooh. Racer.”
He looked up from his inspection and grinned. “Scares my mom to death.”
His delight was infectious so she grinned back. “You bad boy, you.”
He took another walk around the bike, stopping at the front tire so that he faced her. “I’ve never seen this BMW model before.”
“It’s a classic-1974. I got it when I was working in Europe. Zero to a hundred in under ten seconds.” She laughed. “God, it’s a rush.”
He suddenly sobered. “I am a cop, Sophie. You don’t speed, do you?”
Her grin disappeared. She wasn’t sure if he was serious, but decided to err on the side of caution. “Oh, I meant a hundred kilometers an hour. That’s barely sixty.”
He continued to frown for another second, and then his lips began to twitch. “Nice save. I’ll have to remember that one.”
Her chuckle was shaky. “You do that, Vito.” Setting the helmet firmly on her head, she patted her pockets, then frowned. “Oh, shit.” Frantically, she dug in each pocket and came up with everything but what she was looking for. “My keys are gone.”
“You just put it in your pocket.”
“That was the university key. I keep it on a separate ring. I’m only here once a week.” She closed her eyes. “If I lost my keys at the dig, I mean crime scene…”
Vito’s hand closed over her shoulder and gently squeezed. “Calm down, Sophie. If you lost them at the crime scene, they’re in the very safest place. We’ll be covering every inch of that ground with a fine-tooth comb. We’ll find them.”
She made herself breathe. “That’s good, but I kind of need them now. My bike keys, my house keys… and the Albright. Goddammit, Ted the Third’s gonna shit a ring.”
“The Albright?”
“The museum where I work. Ted the Third’s my boss. We don’t get along very well.”
“Why not?”
“He plays at being The Historian,” she said, dropping her voice dramatically. “Makes me do these damn tours.” She scowled. “I have to dress up.”
“And you don’t like to dress up?”
“I am a historian, dammit. I don’t just play at it. At least I didn’t.”
“So why did you take the job?”
She sighed, frustrated. “I needed the money for my gran’s nursing home and Ted the First was an archeological legend.”
“Ted the First is your boss’s grandfather?”
“Yeah. His collection comprises ninety percent of our exhibits.” She shrugged. “I thought working with the Albright Foundation would be good for my career. Now I’m just biding my time until something else is available.” She smiled ruefully. “There aren’t many medieval castles in Philly. And my pride won’t let me flip burgers at McDonald’s.”
“So when was the last time you felt your keys in your hand?” he asked quietly.
She closed her eyes and saw her hand closing over her keys. She looked up to find him watching her with that steady gaze once again. “That’s very good. Redirect my panic and clear my mind. The last time I had my keys was when I first got in your truck. It’s what was jangling against the garden stakes. Maybe I dropped them in your truck.”
He dug his own keys from his pocket, then smiled down at her, sending her heart into a Riverdance. “Let’s go look.”
Sophie’s mouth went dry and every nerve went zinging and she knew if she wasn’t careful she’d give him exactly what he wanted. Because at the moment she more than needed it. For the first time in a long time, she actually wanted it too. She took his keys and stepped back, needing the space. “No, I’ll go. You stay and check out my bike.”
She jogged around the building and past the funky ape to his truck. She patted the passenger seat, the floorboards, but found no keys. She remembered the bumpy access road to the gravesite and stuck her hand under the seat, hoping they’d bounced under. Then she sighed with relief when she felt them. But they were stuck on something.
She reached around behind the seat and winced as thorns pricked her palm. She pulled out a bouquet of wilted roses and frowned. They were obviously for someone, because stuck among the flowers was a white card. Before she could look away, the handwritten words registered.
A-I’ll always love you. V
The roses might have been for his mom, she thought, but men didn’t say I’ll always love you to their mothers, not like that. No men she wanted to know anyway.
So he was taken. Fair enough. But betrayal pricked at her heart. He’d watched her all day and he… He what, Sophie? He’d said he didn’t have anyone at home. But that was not necessarily an invitation. Get a grip. You heard what you wanted to hear, because you were sad and needy. Desperate. She wanted to cover her ears, but the word echoed inside her head. She forced herself to be reasonable. He was nice to me. And in the end, that was all he’d done. He’d made no improper advances. He’d been nothing but a gentleman. So of course he was taken. All the good ones were.
He was straddling her bike when she got back, looking lost in thought again. He blinked when she came close. “Did you find them?”
She held up her key ring and tossed him his. “Under the seat.”
“Okay.” He climbed off her bike. “Sophie, I… Thank you. You were a huge help today. I wish we could pay you for your time. But I did promise a pizza.” He lifted his brows. “I know a place that’s open late if you want to get one now.”
Sophie swallowed. He’s taken. She still wanted him… So what kind of woman am I? She made herself smile. “If your department really wants to pay me back, give me a get-outta-jail-free card for the next time I get pulled over for going too fast on my bike.”
Vito frowned. “I wasn’t talking about the department taking you out to dinner. I was talking about me.” He drew a deep breath. “I’m asking you to go to dinner with me.”
She fastened the strap of her helmet under her chin with a hard yank, her heart sinking. Please don’t be asking me on a date. Please be the nice guy I want to believe you are. “Like… a-a-a date?” God, he had her stammering now.
He nodded, soberly. “Yeah. Like a date.” He stepped forward and lifted her chin with his finger until she was looking into his eyes. “I haven’t met anyone like you in a long time. I don’t want to just walk away.”
She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, could only stare into those dark eyes, desperately wanting to believe his words, desperately wanting what she knew she couldn’t have. His thumb brushed her lower lip, sending shivers down her spine. “What do you say?” he murmured, his voice smooth and soothing. “I could follow you home, make sure you get home all right. Pick up a pizza on the way. We can talk some more.”
He moved a hair closer and she knew she was about to be kissed. She knew it would probably be one of the most earth-shattering moments of her existence. “So how about it?” he whispered and she could feel the warmth of him on her skin.
Yes, yes. The words were on the tip of her tongue. Then her brain finally kicked in, replaying Alan Brewster’s voice saying almost the exact same words. Sanity returned like a hammer to her head and she took a lurching step back just as he angled his face to kiss her. “No.” Breathing hard, she backed up until the back of her legs touched her bike. She climbed on, furious, but whether she was more furious with him for trying it or for herself for nearly becoming yet another notch in another man’s bedpost she couldn’t say. “No thank you. Now if you’ll excuse me…”
He stepped aside without another word and she stomped on the starter, revving the bike’s hundred and ten horses to life. Before turning into the street she glanced at her side mirror and saw he hadn’t moved. He stood statue still, watching her go.