Still, Allison was like a siren song, luring him. He had told her he'd call her. He'd be interested to see what her life in the city was really like. At least that way he could see if he should pursue this further or cut it off before he let himself get hurt again.
Sighing, he turned the key in the ignition. Why hadn't he had sense enough to stick with the solitary existence he'd carved for himself after Amber left? It hadn't given him a lot of personal satisfaction, but it wasn't emotionally dangerous, either.
* * * *
"Heavy weekend, Allie?"
Allison, lost in reverie in front of her computer, jerked her head up. “Damn, Jerry, you nearly gave me a heart attack, sneaking up on me like that. And I asked you not to call me that."
Jerry Malanski lounged in the doorway to her office, leaning against the door jamb, hands thrust in the pockets of his charcoal grey suit pants. A lighter grey tie and a grey and black striped shirt rounded out his outfit. His wavy brown hair was perfectly combed, not a hair out of place. His was the perfect image for a vice president of commercial accounts.
I used to think he was incredibly handsome, but next to Morgan he looks like a Ken doll. Morgan. That's where her mind had been when Jerry interrupted her.
"I've been standing here for two minutes waiting for you to notice me. So, how about some details of the big do in Podunkville?"
"The name of the town is White Tail,” she spit out between clenched teeth, then forced herself to ease off. When had he become so irritating to her?
"Yeah, whatever. Did everyone turn up for the big wedding in jeans and leather chaps?"
She put her hands flat on the desk and seared him with her gaze. “You know, just because something doesn't happen in San Antonio or Dallas doesn't mean it can't have class or be done very nicely."
"Hey.” He held up his hands, palms outward. “You're the one who told me your friend Paige was planning to hide herself away at the end of the Earth. Didn't you cry in your appletini about the stupidity of her falling in love with some dumb cowboy?"
She smiled, remembering Paige and Ryan at their wedding. “That's before I saw the hunk she married. I'd let someone like that haul me away to a cave, too."
Would she? The thought startled her, as an image of Morgan materialized in her mind.
"Yeah, right.” Jerry laughed, a derisive sound. “You'd last until the first morning you couldn't get a caramel mocciato, or find a decent place for dinner."
The memory of her dinner with Morgan at The Cattle Company flashed through her mind. The restaurant could match many she'd eaten at in San Antonio. And that once again brought up the image of Morgan. She clamped down on her thoughts.
"Is there something you wanted, Jerry?” Why had she ever gone out with this guy? But she knew the answer. He was part of the circle she lived and breathed, good eye candy and capable of being charming on command. AM—After Morgan—everything suddenly appeared in a different light.
"I just wanted to remind you about the Anderson Foundation dinner Saturday night. You know the boss is on the board and the bank is a big contributor."
"Lord, I'd forgotten all about it.” And wasn't that unusual? She, the big community relations director for the largest privately owned bank in the area, never forgot an event where Alamo Bank needed to be front and center. She took every opportunity to enhance her boss's image in the community. “At the new Waterside Hotel, right?"
He nodded. “I figured we could go together. Pick you up about seven?"
Before she could answer, her phone rang. She held up a finger, motioning him to wait as she answered. “Allison Moore, community relations."
"I think I'd like to have some relations with you, Miss Moore, but I wouldn't be inviting the whole community."
Her knees turned week and her heart fluttered at the sound of the deep voice. “Hold that thought, please.” She looked up at Jerry, standing in front of her, blatant curiosity in his eyes. She arranged her mouth in what she hoped was a sweet smile. “I need to take this call. We'll talk later, okay?"
"I can wait."
"No, that's all right.” She shooed him away with a wave of her hand.
He stood there until it was obvious she was going to outwait him, then ambled off down the hallway.
"I'm back,” she said into the phone. “Sorry about that."
Morgan's voice took on a withdrawn tone. “Look, if you're busy I can call back later."
"No.” She realized she was shouting, and lowered her voice. “No, I'm not busy. Just getting rid of a pesky co-worker."
And how Jerry would cringe if he heard that. She almost laughed at the thought.
"I—um—said I'd call."
"Yes, you did.” She twirled a strand of hair in her fingers, wondering if there was some purpose to the call other than discharging an obligation.
"Listen, Allison, I'm not much good with conversational chit chat. You know that."
Her stomach clenched. Was this the big brush-off? Surely he didn't have to call her for that. Neglect would have accomplished the same thing.
"Well, that's all right.” She grinned. “Maybe you could just chit and I could do the chatting."
His deep chuckle resonated over the phone line. “Maybe I could just get to the point."
She gripped the receiver. “Okay."
"I wondered if you're busy this weekend?"
"This weekend?” she squeaked.
"Uh huh. I thought I'd come to town and visit the bright lights of the big city. See how things were for you in your life there. You know, they say if you want to really understand an animal, study it in its native environment."
At that a full laugh burst from her lips. “You sound like you're on a zoological expedition."
"Well, considering the wildlife in San Antonio, that may not be so far from wrong. Anyway, I was wondering if you had time for some company this weekend. We could go out to dinner, check out some of the places I used to go.” He paused. “I could get a room at a hotel if you'd feel more comfortable."
"Oh, right.” She yanked on the curl. “You most certainly will not stay at any hotel.” Then she recalled Jerry's little visit. “But I have an event on Saturday night I have to attend. It's for a foundation the bank supports heavily."
"Oh.” Another pause. “Are you permitted to bring an escort? Unless you'd rather not bring me around where your friends are."
"Don't be stupid,” she snapped, then drew a deep breath. “I'm sorry. But that's just ridiculous. Of course I want you to come. I just hope you won't be bored to death.” Or put me in the same class as that damn Amber.
"I think I can handle it for one night. If not I can always hang out in the men's room.” When she didn't say anything, he added, “A joke, Allison. Just a little gallows humor. Sorry."
She gave him directions to her little condo on San Antonio's north side and told him to meet her there at seven on Friday. That would give her enough time to get home, shower and change before he arrived. When she hung up, a feeling of pure bliss washed over her.
Until she remembered Jerry Malanski and their supposed date. Looking at her watch, she realized it was lunchtime. She'd stop by his office on her way out to grab a bite to eat and try to do it as briefly and casually as possible. And hope he didn't make some smart remark.
Shutting down her computer, she grabbed her purse and went to look for Jerry. She found him sitting in the lobby area shooting the breeze with a man she knew to be a friend of his.
"Hi,” she tossed over her shoulder. “Can't stop to talk but just wanted to let you know you don't have to drag me to the shindig Saturday night. I've got another ride."
His mouth flopped open like a dead fish. “What?"
""You're off the hook. But thanks for the offer."
"Hey, hey, hey.” He snagged her arm as she hurried past him, nearly toppling her to the floor. “What do you mean another ride? I thought we had a date."
"Oh, please.” She laughed. “You know you weren't serio
us. The whole thing was more for convenience. Find someone you'll really have fun with, who won't have to work the room all night.” She yanked her arm loose and headed for the glass doors.
"Do I smell a cowboy in your future?” he hollered. “And I do mean smell.” When she kept going he added, “You're missing out on an evening with a real man."
She shook her head in disgust. Eat shit and die. We'll see who's the real man around here.
* * * *
Morgan replaced the receiver and leaned back in his chair, wondering if he'd just done something incredibly stupid. He hadn't loved San Antonio when he lived there before. What made him think he'd like it any better now? Spending a weekend in the city with Allison would be testy enough; going to some fancy shindig with her, filled with people just like Amber, might end their relationship before it ever got started.
For three days he tried to wash Allison Moore out of his system and his mind, but all he'd done is think about her twice as much. This trip had all the makings of a giant fiasco, but something was driving him to do it. He'd be seeing Allison on her home turf, and that would give him a pretty good idea if they had anything more in common than hot sex.
And if they did, then what? Could he even think of asking her to move to White Tail? He wondered idly how he'd feel if he ever went back to work for the Bexar County Sheriff. It would be quite an adjustment, especially after running his own little corner of the world for a while.
He finished the coffee in the mug in front of him and swung his feet off the desk. He was getting way ahead of himself here. They had a long way to go before they ever got to that point. And Amber still hung heavy in his mind. Meanwhile he had business to attend to, so he'd better get about earning his pay.
Jimmy Boyd was the only one in the big outer room besides the dispatcher when Morgan walked out there. The young patrolman was sorting through stacks of paper, his forehead creased in concentration. He looked up as Morgan stopped in front of him.
"Hi, Chief.” He put down the stack in his hand.
"New project?” Morgan grinned. Jimmy could find a million ways to make himself useful on the force. He made no secret of the fact Morgan was his idol and he wanted nothing more than to be promoted and, as he often said, “do some real police work.” Morgan never had the heart to remind him that until recently the only real police work they did was chasing loose cattle and breaking up teenage beer parties. Oh, yes, there was also the occasional weekend brawl at The Pig's Eye, but nothing that ever got out of hand.
"Well, see, I had this kind of idea. You know, something that's been chewin’ at my mind. Know what I mean, Chief?"
Morgan sighed. “Yes, Jimmy, I know about ideas. Care to share this one before it's time for dinner?"
"What? Oh, ha ha. Sure. Sorry. Well, we haven't had much luck with the faxes we sent out about that body, so I figured I'd go through all the ones that got sent to us, and see if one matched up. You know, where they might be lookin’ for someone on their Wanted list."
Morgan didn't bother to explain to Jimmy that only the FBI issued a Wanted list, but he knew what the young officer meant. “Good idea. I applaud your efforts."
Jimmy blushed beet red. “Thanks, Chief."
"So did this project of yours turn up anything?"
The young man's face fell. “No, it didn't. Darn it.” Then he grinned.
Morgan swallowed a smile. “Well, don't worry. It's still a good idea, and may yet give us a lead. Keep at it."
"Oh, yes, chief. I surely will. And I still have three more piles to go through."
Morgan shook his head and walked out to his SUV. It sure was damn strange they hadn't been able to turn up one smell of an identity. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to dump the body in what had to be an out-of-the-way place, then chop off the hands. This was no innocent bystander, but someone who hung out with some not very nice people. They'd cast the net as wide as possible, and still no response.
At the moment he wasn't sure which bothered him more—his unsolved crime wave or Allison Moore. Both of them were having a definite effect on his life, and he didn't have a solution to either of them.
Chapter Eleven
By the time Friday arrived Allison was a nervous wreck. Why had she agreed to let Morgan come for the weekend? Why was she even thinking about taking him to the Anderson Foundation party with her? He'd hate every minute of it. With some exceptions, the people there would be exactly the kind he hated, carbon copies of the infamous Amber.
No, wait, these people were her friends. Weren't they? They formed the framework of her existence. They knew all the right words, all the right moves. So why was she already feeling defensive about them?
Okay, Allie, calm down. You'll have plenty of time to feel him out tonight.
Feel him out! Feel!
She swallowed a bubble of hysteria. She wanted to feel him all right.
At five o'clock she raced out of the bank, speeding past Jerry who was hanging out in the lobby again.
"Going home to ride the cowboy?” he called.
"Bite me, Jerry.” She sped out to her car.
By the time Morgan arrived, she'd taken a long bath in lavender bath salts, sprayed perfume on all the strategic points of her body, and changed her outfit four times. When the doorbell rang, she had just finished zipping up a powder blue silk sheath and fastening her grandmother's sapphires in her ears. One last quick look in the hall mirror and she threw open the door. And almost fainted.
Of course she'd seen him togged out for the wedding, but tonight he was wearing a light grey suit with a white and grey striped shirt and dark grey patterned tie. A white dress Stetson sat on his dark hair. He looked so delicious she wanted to rip his clothes off right there in her front hall.
He laughed. “I think that's supposed to be my line."
Oh, God. Did she really say it out loud?
"Don't blush, darlin'. A man likes to know he has that kind of effect on a woman.” He indicated the garment bag he had draped over his shoulder. “Okay if I bring this in, or were you planning to make me sleep on the porch?"
"Oh!” She felt her face heat even more, and stood back from the door. “I'm sorry. Of course. Come in."
Way to go, Allie. Show him what a bumbling idiot you really are.
He looked around the living room, filled with comfortable furniture in a soothing mixture of pale green and blue. “Very nice. Not quite what I expected."
She quirked an eyebrow. “Not quite as glamorous and glitzy as you thought?” Amber again, damn it.
"I guess I just didn't think your place would be as—homey."
She laughed at the old-fashioned word. “I work in a high pressure environment. When I come home I want to relax. When I bought the condo I chose to decorate with stuff that would make me feel comfortable, things as far from my everyday life as possible."
"You did a good job, darlin'."
She felt a rush of pleasure at his words. “Come on, you can hang up that bag. Then I thought we'd have a glass of wine before we leave for dinner.” She bit her lip. “You do like wine, don't you?"
He threw back his head and laughed. “I'm not a complete savage, Allie. I haven't shed all my civilized habits yet, so they won't let me into the club."
This time the heat from the blush started at her toes and swept all the way to the top of her head. “I-I didn't mean it that way..."
"Don't sweat it, darlin'. I was just teasing. I love wine."
He looked totally at ease as she led him into her bedroom. She tried to see the furnishings through his eyes—the king-sized bed with its plump pale green comforter, the lounge chair with the little reading table next to it, the honey-colored walnut dresser and bed tables, chosen for their simplicity of design. She was not a frilly girl, never had been. She and Paige were a lot alike in that way. Even their dressiest clothes were free of frills and frou frou.
"You can just hang that in here.” She opened the large walk-in closet and waved her hand at the insi
de.
"Very nice.” He hung up the garment bag in the space she'd made. “I like your taste."
"Thank you.” She wiped her palms against her thighs again. “Why don't we sit outside and have our wine? The nights are still pleasant this time of year."
He nodded. “Lead the way."
She nearly spilled the wine pouring it. Morgan took the bottle from her, set it on the counter and pulled her into his arms. “You're not serving the president, darlin'. Just me. And I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “So let's just relax, have some wine, then go out for a nice dinner. Okay?"
She felt the tension seeping out of her. “It's just—I know you hate the city, and...” And I really want you to rip my clothes off an make love to me until I don't even know my own name.
"Allie, like I said. I'm here because I want to be. I want to see where you live and work and play. All right?"
"Okay."
"Good.” He filled their wine glasses and handed one to her. “Let's go out and look at the stars."
The stars weren't quite out yet, but they caught the last color wash of the sunset, and as they sat on the balcony and sipped their wine Allison let the last of the anxiety slip away. At least for tonight.
She'd made dinner reservations at a new restaurant on the Riverwalk, San Antonio's famous tourist attraction. Morgan had mentioned that he'd eaten at other Riverwalk restaurants when he lived in San Antonio, and found it to be one of the few places in the city he really enjoyed. At night the narrow, winding San Antonio River reflected the lights from the many shops and eating establishments, showing off the places at its colorful best. Tonight was pleasant enough for them to take one of the tables outside, so they sat on the porch and watched the parade of tourists. The faint strains of the mariachis drifted on the night air, and boatloads of tourists waved as they were propelled down the waterway in the familiar Rio San Antonio river barges.
Allison chose the place because the menu was so varied, not having the faintest idea what Morgan liked to eat. If none of the European cuisine appealed to him, the place was famous for steaks, so she figured she was safe. When he ordered the veal dish, she tried not to look surprised.
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