The Cinderella Deal - Jennifer Crusie [30]
Derek blocked it with his foot. “That’s all? No, Derek, sweetheart, honey, baby, I missed you? No, God, it’s good to see you? No, come on in and take off your clothes?”
“No.” Daisy was still trying to close the door. “I’m trying to move in a new direction, not backtrack. Go away.” She gave up on the door and went to put the stereo down, and when she turned around, he was in the apartment, looking winsome and contrite and truly annoying.
“I want to come back, Daisy,” he said with all the fake sincerity he was capable of.
And I had a relationship with this? Daisy mentally kicked herself and then moved on. “I don’t want you back, Derek. The stereo is still welcome, of course, but you’re not. Go away.”
“You’re a hard woman, Daisy.” Derek grinned at her and kicked the door closed behind him. “That’s one of the million things I loved about you.” He opened his arms to her. “Come on, you don’t mean it.”
“Sure, I do.” Daisy detoured around him and opened the door again. “Get out. I’m not interested.”
Derek leaned toward her, obviously ready to deal the ace up his sleeve. “Daisy, the band cut a record. I’m going to be rich.” He stood back to enjoy her reaction.
Daisy shook her head. “I can’t afford you until you’re rich. Get out.”
Derek was, as always, a slow learner. And of course there was that hearing problem. “Just a place to stay for a while, love.”
“No. Get out.”
“Daisy, baby. Did you forget this?” He reached for her and wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck while she shrank away.
“Let go.” Daisy fell into the hall with him as she tried to squirm out of his grasp. Derek was no rapist, but he was a twit and there was a limit to how much of this she was going to put up with. She kicked him hard on the shin, and as he gasped, she heard the front door open. “Help!” she called out, hoping Derek would give up since they had an audience.
Derek didn’t have time. Seconds later he was sprawled across the hall.
Daisy straightened her sweater and turned to her rescuer. “Thank you. He wasn’t actually—” Her voice faded away.
Linc loomed over Daisy, supporting himself with one hand on her doorframe as he tried to bring order and logic into her life again. The three Scotches he’d had on the plane to get his nerve up had joined the drink that Booker had given him, and now it felt right that he should be lecturing her. “Never open your door to anyone you don’t know.”
“She knows me,” the creep who’d attacked her said from the floor. “I’m her boyfriend. Who the hell are you?”
Her boyfriend? Linc focused on him. Oh, right. The musician. Darrin or Derek or something. Well, he was history. “I’m her husband.” Linc turned and loomed over him too. “Go away or I’ll break your fingers.”
“You got married?” Derek stared at Daisy, indignant. “I was only gone eight months.”
“But you never wrote,” Daisy pointed out. “So I took the next guy who asked. He’s a hit man. He makes sure that the people who bother me disappear. In fact—”
Linc watched her get into her story. It made him feel nostalgic and dizzy, and he put a hand back on the wall to steady himself. Daisy’s eyes widened and she picked up speed. “He knows my brother in New Jersey. So you have to go now.” She took Linc’s hand and he squeezed hers, glad to feel her warm beside him as she tugged him through the doorway.
“You don’t have a brother in New Jersey.” Derek picked himself up from the floor. “You’re an only child from Tennessee.”
Daisy was supporting a lot of Linc’s weight now; she was stronger than he’d thought. “He’s adopted. Thanks again for the stereo. Now, go away or … my husband will hurt you.” She looked up at Linc.
“Yeah.” Linc nodded slowly. “I could do that.”
“Come on, honey.” Daisy nudged him with her hip, and he stumbled into the apartment so she could slam the door behind them.
“What was he doing here?” Linc squinted at her.
“He wants me back.” Daisy put her hands on her hips. She still had great hips. “I’m unforgettable. I thought you moved.”
Oh, hell, now he had to explain things.