Page 21 of The Playboy and the Widow
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I haven’t got the body of a centerfold or the looks of a beauty queen. I’ve had children.”
“Hey, I’m not complaining. I like what I see.”
“You might not be so sure if you saw more of me.”
“Is that an offer?”
Color bloomed full force in her cheeks. “It most certainly was not.”
“More’s the pity.”
“That’s another thing. I’m... not easy.”
“You’re telling me. I’ve spent the past fifteen minutes trying to talk you into a movie. After all this I certainly hope you don’t intend to turn me down.”
She laughed then, because refusing him was impossible. He was right; she was the type of person to make up her own mind. Shirley would have her hide, but, then, her neighbor hadn’t been the sole subject of his considerable charm.
“You will go with me, won’t you?”
“Where?” Katie cried, running up from behind them.
“Cliff wants to take me to a movie.”
Katie clapped her hands. “Oh, good. Can Joan and I go, too?”
Four
“I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into,” Diana’s neighbor muttered, her brow puckered. She paused and stared at the bottom of her empty coffee cup. “George told me he’s seen Cliff Howard bring lesser women to their knees.”
“Listen, Shirley, I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”
Shirley snickered softly. “The last time you told me that was when you decided to figure your own income tax, and we both know what happened.”
Diana cringed at the memory. In an effort to save a few dollars a couple of years back, she’d gone over her financial records and filled out her own tax forms. It hadn’t appeared so difficult, and to be truthful, she’d been rather proud of herself. That was until she’d been summoned for an audit by an IRS agent who had all the compassion and understanding of a grizzly bear. It had turned out that she owed the government several hundred dollars and they weren’t willing to take Mastercard. They were, however, amicable to confiscating her home and children if she didn’t come up with the five-hundred-dollar discrepancy. Scraping the money together on her fixed income had made the weeks following the audit some of the most unpleasant since her husband’s death.
“I just don’t want to see you get hurt,” Shirley added in thoughtful tones. “And I’m afraid Cliff Howard’s just the man to do it.”
“What I want to know is why I’ve never seen Cliff before now?” Diana asked in an effort to change the subject. “You know so much about him, like he was a longtime family friend. I didn’t even know he existed.”
“George plays golf with him a couple of times a month. They meet at the country club. Until the other night, Cliff had only been to our house once.” Her mouth tightened. “I should have known something like this would happen.”
“Like what?”
“You falling head over heels for him.”
Diana laughed outright at that. “Rest assured, I am not in love with Cliff Howard.”
“But you will be,” Shirley said confidently. “Every woman falls for him eventually. Some of the stories going around the clubhouse about him would shock you.”
“Well, you needn’t worry. I’m not going to fall for him.”
“That’s what they all say,” Shirley told her knowingly.
Diana avoided her friend’s gaze. Her neighbor wasn’t saying anything she hadn’t already suspected. She liked Cliff, was strongly attracted to him, but she wasn’t going to fall for him. She was too intelligent to allow herself to be taken in by a notorious playboy. But, no matter what her feelings, Diana couldn’t completely discredit Shirley’s advice. Her neighbor could very well be right, and Diana could be headed down the slick path to heartache and moral decay.
She paused and cupped her hands around her coffee mug. “He’s been wonderful with the girls,” she said, hoping that alone was excuse enough to date Cliff.
