"Bryn."
His voice was quiet and soft, but commanding. His hand, bronze and broad and powerful, enveloped hers, stopping its futile motion. His eyes rose to hers, and she saw a gentle empathy in the soft flicker of gold and deeper brown. "It's all right. It's no big thing. Would you please sit back down?"
She did so, biting her lower lip miserably as she continued to stare at him. He smiled at her, inclining his head slightly as if to tell her to go ahead--but to what she wasn't sure--and turned his attention to Adam.
"Adam, I'm sorry that we weren't including you in the conversation. That was very rude of us. But throwing your food across the table is a very bad thing to do. Do it again, and your aunt or I will take you outside and give you a good talking to there. Understand?"
Adam shifted closer to Bryn and pressed as far into the vinyl seat as he could. He didn't reply, but he didn't throw anything again, either.
Bryn wondered briefly if she should have resented Lee taking over the initiative on discipline. But she didn't feel any resentment; all she felt was a pounding headache coming on. "Guys," she murmured, and her voice held a husky tremor, ' 'please finish your dinners; we have to get home.''
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Get it together, Bryn Keller, she warned herself. It had been nice to see the empathy in Lee Condor's extraordinary eyes, but she didn't want empathy to become pity. She could control her situation; only rarely did she fall prey to frustration.
' 'Wantsome coffee?'' Lee asked her after Brian and Keith had looked from her to Lee to her again,then begun busily eating. Adam didn't budge, but his plate was almost empty anyway. She decided to let it go.
Bryn lowered her lashes suddenly. Lee even seemed to know that gulping two glasses of wine was too much for her. Yes, she did want coffee. There was Chinese tea on the table, but it wouldn't perk her up enough to drive. "Yes, I would," she murmured.
Lee signaled to the waitress, and she wondered for a moment if the American Indian and the Chinese shared a special sign language, because two cups of coffee were instantly brought. "How did you do that?" Bryn inquired curiously. He laughed. "No great talent. I mouthed the word 'coffee.'" "Oh." She flushed uneasily, lowering her lashes once again, and scalded her lip on the hot coffee.
"Hi, Bryn."
She glanced up to see that Perry and Mick had wandered over to their booth.
"Hi," she returned, wishing her voice didn't sound so shy. She was accustomed to being assured; why did she worry about what these particular men thought of her?
Because they're Lee's co-workers, an inner voice that she didn't want to hear told her. And, more important, they're his friends.
"Nice looking family," Mick said with a grin that proved he meant it.
"Thanks," she replied, then added swiftly, "Guys, meet Mr.Skyhawk and Mr. Litton. They work with Mr. Condor."
Perry chuckled. "You make us sound like the Mafia, Bryn. Guys, I'm Perry, and this is Mick. And who are you?"
"That's Brian, and that's Keith, and this is-- Oh!" She glanced down at Adam to see that he had fallen asleep against her side. His left thumb was securely in his mouth--he had broken the habit during the day, but not at night--and he had bunched a fistful of her skirt into his hand like a security blanket. Bryn glanced back up at Mick and Perry and shrugged. "Rip Van Winkle here is Adam."
"Hi, Brian, hi, Keith," Mick said.
Bryn knew before they opened their mouths that she was in trouble again, but there wasn't a damn thing she could do to prevent it, short of grabbing the tablecloth and throwing it over both their heads.
"You're an Indian, too!" they exclaimed in unison.
Lee laughed along with Perry and Mick, and Perry purposely egged the boys on. "Me?An Indian? No, I'm not. I'm a perfect American Heinz 7! A little Scotch, a little Irish. Some English, some French. Oh! I forgot about the Lithuanian!"
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"Not you!" Mick exclaimed in mock horror. "They mean me. Hey, you can't fool kids these days. They know a real Indian when they see one."
Brian and Keith stared at each other in confusion,then broke up giggling. Bryn wasn't sure whether she wanted to kiss the lot of them, or still crawl beneath the table.
"Indians are fun!" Keith told Brian gravely.
"And green-eyed dancers can turn lovely shades of red, can't they?" Lee said, grinning up wickedly at his friends.
"Sure can," Mick agreed. He smiled at Bryn,then turned his attention to Lee. "We were about to head on out. I think they needed our table. But we can wait around outside if you want."
Lee looked across the table at Bryn. "If Miss Keller won't mind the assistance, I'll give her a hand getting her brood home."