She’d used him and then she’d moved on, making her the worst kind of player there was. At least where his women were concerned they knew up front what they were getting into. He made no promises and they expected none. That way nobody got hurt.
And now, as luck would have it, he’d bypassed the lovely ladies of Düsseldorf and found a beautiful lily right here in Bremen. On this leg of the trip he’d followed his nose and it had paid off. Nice.
Now all he had to do was track her down and with a name and a location that was easy. His first move would be to find Coleman Private English School. His plan in place, Rafe began to feel pleased with himself. If he played his cards right he would have pretty Miss Petersen in his bed in no time.
“Come on, slow pokes.” Now it was his turn to take a dig at his friends. “My tank is on empty. Time to fill ‘er up.”
It wasn’t until later that evening when they’d gone back to their budget motel that Rafe got the chance to check out the Coleman School. It was on Obernstrasse. Not far at all. He made a note of the telephone number then settled back in his bed to watch the rest of the soccer game on the television. Tomorrow would come soon enough.
Next day Rafe timed his call for twenty minutes after school dismissal time. That would give Anya enough time to get her little ones off to the school buses or to their parents and then make it to the teachers’ staff room. It would be the end of the work day so she should be more relaxed and more inclined to take his call.
But in spite of his meticulous plans, when Rafe called the school office there was no Anya to receive his call. She was probably out speaking to one of the parents, the secretary told him. Call back in about fifteen minutes. Better yet, he should just leave a message and she would pass it on. Rafe thanked her for the offer but declined. He wasn’t going to risk Anya getting the message and totally ignoring it. That would be too easy for her to do. If he got to speak to her, though, there was no way she would turn him down.
Fifteen minutes later Rafe was calling the school number again and this time he got a much better response. "Hold on, please," the secretary said. “I will transfer you.”
“Hello?” Anya’s gentle voice came through the receiver but it was hesitant, questioning.
Time to put her at ease. “Anya. It’s Rafe. We met yesterday at the zoo.”
“Ah, yes. Rafe. I remember.” There was a pause and he could imagine the frown on her face as she tried to figure out why the heck he was calling. As if to confirm what he was thinking, when she spoke again it was to ask a question. “How can I help you, Rafe?” He could hear it in her voice. She was curious and she was also trying not to sound rude. Definitely a good sign. She was trying to be polite. It was these kinds of girls who were easiest to manipulate. “You can help me, Anya,” he said, his voice slow, seductive and coolly confident, “by agreeing to have dinner with me.” Then he chuckled. “After all, after yesterday’s experience we’re not strangers, are we?” He closed with a deliberate question designed to back her into a corner. When he worded the question like that what else could she do but agree?
“I…no, I guess we aren’t strangers,” she said quickly but still with that hint of hesitation in her voice.
He needed to dispel that doubt. “We shared a moment of danger, Anya. We’re like old friends now.” He spoke in his most reassuring voice. “So how would you like to share dinner with an old friend? Tomorrow evening, seven o’clock, Medio.” When there was another moment of silence on the other end of the line he upped the ante. “I can pick you up.”
“I’m sorry, I…”
Rafe knew when to jump in. Before she could express her doubt he cut in, making sure to slide in that one thing the ladies could never resist. So neither would Anya. “Say yes and I’ll throw in my personal wildcard. With that, you can demand from me anything you wish.” He laughed. “Want me to do your dishes for a week? I’m your man.” Then he threw in the part that was guaranteed to make the ladies melt. “But if dishes aren’t your thing, you can use me any way you want.”
Rafe was still smiling as he waited for Anya’s response.
It came swift and clear and surprisingly sharp. “No. Thank you. I don’t think so.” Anya didn’t shout. She didn’t need to. There was a steely coolness in her voice that told Rafe she was not the kind of woman you could trifle with.
Realizing he’d made a mess of things he decided to try a different tactic. “Forget what I just said. That didn’t come out quite the way I intended.” He drew in his breath, feeling like a fish out of water. He wasn’t used to this backpedalling bit. He’d used that line on so many women and she was the first one who’d turned him down cold. He would have to approach things from another angle. Thinking fast, he said, “Anya, will you have dinner with me? After what I did yesterday it’s not too much to ask, is it?”
He heard when she drew in her breath then let it out slowly. Finally, she spoke. “I’m very grateful for what you did,” she said, her voice cool and quiet, “but no, I will not go out with you. Thank you again, Rafe, and have a good day.”
The next thing he heard was the click that ended the call. She was gone.
Shit. He hadn’t expected this. There was actually a woman who could resist his charm?
And then, even as he asked himself the question, he realized what a jerk he’d been and what a super-jerk he was still being with that kind of thinking. Of course Anya would turn him down. He’d approached her with the same tired line he’d used on dozens of women. But, he was beginning to realize, Anya Petersen was a different kind of woman. She’d seemed modest, easy going, even shy, the type you could easily impress. Now he could see she was just the opposite. Anya’s backbone was pure steel, the most difficult kind of woman to bend to your will.
And that, more than anything, made him want her even more.
***
It wasn’t until Anya got home that afternoon that she got a chance to mull over her conversation with the man who called himself Rafe. He hadn’t even told her his last name yet he’d had the audacity to think she would go out with him.
She was grateful that he’d rescued Hans and she’d told him that. Many times. Apparently, he didn’t think that was enough. He’d actually asked her – no, told her – to go out with him. And then he’d gone and made that crude remark. Such a turn-off.