Rochelle Alers - Sweet Southern Nights

Most nights when she returned home from work, she didn’t go into her home office to turn on her computer, but retreated to the enclosed back porch where she spent countless hours catching up with her pile of reading material or watching a movie.

Glancing at the clock on the oven, Angela lowered the temperature, closed the door and walked out of the kitchen to the staircase that led to the second floor of bedrooms. She had an hour before Levi Eaton arrived.

Stripping off her tank top, sweatpants and underwear, Angela covered her hair with a shower cap and then stepped into the stall in the en-suite bathroom. She turned on the shower spray and adjusted the water temperature. She squeezed a generous glob of her favorite bath gel onto a sponge and went about soaping her body.

As his gaze shifted from the map on the dashboard to the road in front of him, Levi decelerated. Apparently Angela was right. The roads were confusing. It was the third time the automated voice had recalculated his programmed route. After his last patient, he packed an overnight bag and a garment bag with the suit he’d planned to wear to the wedding, and drove fifteen miles from Maywood Junction to Louisville. He planned to check into a downtown hotel where he’d take advantage of the hotel’s full-service salon for a haircut and shave.

As he continued driving, a wooded area gave way to a paved road and a sign pointing the way to Magnolia Pines—a private residential community. The sun had set and the light from the nearly full moon reflected off the rails of the white fencing surrounding the property. The rails were a constant reminder that he was in horse country.

He’d come to Kentucky at the beginning of January and planned to leave at the end of June. And during his six-month stay, he’d made a promise to himself to attend a horse race. And his race of choice was the Kentucky Derby.

Reining in his thoughts, and remembering why he was driving along unlit roads in a Louisville suburb, Levi recalled the conversation he’d had with Duncan earlier that morning. He’d told him that he’d contacted his sister and would be meeting her for dinner tonight. Duncan seemed surprised that Angela had agreed to go out with him. But Levi didn’t want answers from his colleague, but rather from his sister. The outline of the gatehouse came into view, and Levi maneuvered up to the security gate as the guard slid back the window.

“Good evening, sir. May I help you?”

He nodded, smiling. “Good evening. I’m here to see Miss Angela Chase.”

“Your name, sir.”

“Levi Eaton.”

“I need to see your driver’s license, Mr. Eaton.”

Shifting in his seat, Levi removed a small billfold from his back pocket and handed his license to the guard. He drummed his fingers on the leather-wrapped wheel as he waited to be announced.

Angela stood in front of the full-length mirror, half an hour later, grimacing when she realized she looked like one of the heroines in her novels before her glamorous transformation. The white, man-tailored blouse, black cropped slacks and a pair of black patent high-heeled sandals were more appropriate for an afternoon luncheon than a dinner date.

A pair of pearl studs was the only jewelry she wore. Even her hairstyle was conservative. Instead of leaving it loose or in a ponytail, she’d pinned it into a chignon at the nape of her neck. She moved closer to the mirror and examined her bare face. She’d applied a moisturizer, lip gloss but nothing else. She went completely still when the distinctive buzzing from the intercom echoed through the house. She knew it was Levi Eaton—and he was early. Walking over to a wall panel, she punched a button on the intercom.

“This is Ms. Chase.”

“Miss Chase. Mr. Levi Eaton is here to see you.”

“You can let him in.”

Well, her blind date was about to see Angela Maxine Chase without any artifice. It would be a test to see if Dr. Levi Eaton was as superficial as most of the men she’d dated over the past three years. She left the bedroom, walked the length of the carpeted hallway to the staircase leading to the living room. She unlocked the door, opened it and came face-to-face with a man whose masculinity literally took her breath away.

To say the man standing on her front steps was tall, dark and handsome was an understatement. Angela hadn’t realized she was gaping until she saw his gaze shift from her eyes to her mouth. Opening the door wider, she gave him a bright smile.

“Please come in, Dr. Eaton.”

Levi’s expressive eyebrows lifted a fraction, and she wondered what was going through his mind. Now, she thought if his personality was as good as his looks, then Levi Eaton would definitely become the prototype for her next romance novel.

“Please, it’s Levi.”

Her smile grew wider as she extended her free hand. “And I’m Angela. Welcome.” Her fingers disappeared in his large grasp.

He handed her a decorative bag filled with wine. “I didn’t know what you were serving, so I bought a bottle of red, white and rosé.”

She peered into the bag. “You really didn’t have to bring anything.”

Levi smiled for the first time, attractive lines appearing in his lean face. “I guess it has something to do with home training. My mother would be mortified if I showed up at someone’s home empty-handed. At least the first time,” he added, his smile becoming a full grin.

Angela angled her head, staring up at the man who made her heart beat a little too fast for comfort. It had been a long time—at least five years—since she’d found herself slightly off balance. It hadn’t happened since she’d been introduced to Robert Gaskin. And if she could turn back the clock, Angela never would’ve given him a second glance. She opened her mouth to tell Levi that tonight would be the first and last time he would cross her threshold, but changed her mind when she remembered Levi was to be her date for her cousin’s wedding.

“Please come with me. It’ll be another twenty minutes before dinner is ready, so I thought we could take some time to become better acquainted,” she said instead.

Levi glanced around the alcove off the living room where two facing club chairs, one with a matching footstool, a low mahogany table with rosewood inlay and two floor lamps with Tiffany-style shades created an inviting and comfortable seating area. A decoratively carved credenza doubled as a bar, its surface covered with lead-crystal decanters filled with clear and amber-colored spirits.

He hadn’t known what to expect, but it wasn’t the young woman who appeared to be no nonsense and all business. What he did like was her natural, flawless face. Beyond her beauty, he didn’t know anything about her other than her name and that she lived in a sprawling, exquisitely decorated house in a gated community. Yet he was curious and wanted to know more about her.

A woman’s looks were not as important to him as her intelligence and femininity. Levi had come to the conclusion that he was somewhat old-school when it came to women. He wasn’t a chauvinist, but he liked women who were more traditional.

Angela suddenly turned and stared at him, her eyes large and her gaze unwavering in the flattering warm light. “Please sit down, Levi.”

“After you, Angela,” he said, smiling.

He waited for her to sit down, then followed suit, trying not to stare at her legs, which were stretched out and propped on a footstool. The soft light from the floor lamp spilled over Angela’s delicate features, and her serene expression reminded him of the female images in Renaissance paintings. Her rich golden-brown complexion was reminiscent of autumn leaves and his gaze lingered on her temptingly curved lips.

Angela was slender but with enough curves to get a man’s attention. If he had to describe her looks, Levi would have to admit that Angela Chase was easy on the eyes—very, very easy on the eyes.