“We’ll experiment with fruit and cooking oil and household appliances…the electric shoe buffer, the electric toothbrush, the waffle iron.”

“Oh, my Lord.”

“And that’s only the beginning, baby. I’m going to make love to you in the broom closet. I’m going to ravage you on the washing machine. I’m going to do naughty things to you with my barbecue equipment.”

They were both red-faced and convulsed with laughter when Elsie swung through the kitchen door. “What are you doing in here?” she asked. “We’ve been waiting forever for them brownies.”

Daisy straightened and gasped for breath, trying to sober herself. “Here you go,” she said, handing the plate over to Elsie. “I’m right behind you with the coffee.” She grabbed the pot and shook her head at Steve. “You’re a pervert, and if I catch you buying a waffle iron, I’m calling the police.”

Chapter 10

Steve watched Daisy drag her belongings down the stairs and pile them up in the foyer. “So you’re still determined to move back into your town house.”

“Yup.”

“I was only kidding about the waffle iron.”

“This has nothing to do with the waffle iron. This has to do with breathing space, making intelligent decisions, being self-reliant.”

Tonight’s dinner was proof absolute that she had to get away from Steve. She wasn’t a rational person when she was around him. She had only to look at her ring finger to be reminded of that fact. Steve’s parents had left an hour ago, and the ring was growing heavier and heavier. The confused joy she’d first felt was fast turning to gloomy disbelief. How could she possibly have managed to get herself engaged? She’d been so determined not to let this happen, and now she was dragging a diamond the size of Mount McKinley around on her finger.

“How about breakfast?” Steve asked. “Will you be over for breakfast?”

Kevin’s face brightened. “Yeah, we’ll be here for breakfast.”

“Breakfast would be nice,” Elsie admitted. “I wouldn’t mind stopping in for breakfast.”

“You’re being sneaky again,” Daisy said to Steve.

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

By the end of the week Daisy was forced to admit it didn’t matter which house she lived in—she couldn’t get away from Steve. She’d had to rely on him for transportation since the two stolen cars had never turned up. In addition, he lured her fickle brother and bodyguard to his house with food, rented movies, a new pool table, dartboard, and pinball machine. There were late-night poker games, gourmet picnic lunches in the park, and midnight pizza orgies.

In her weaker moments Daisy had to concede she was thoroughly enjoying herself. During more somber times she referred to her calendar and grimly added up the days when she hadn’t worked on her dissertation or put in hours at the nursing home.