by Day Leclaire
“Well? Is it a deal?” he asked.
Angie nodded. After all, what choice did she have? “It’s a deal.”
“And once you’ve taught me everything you know, you’ll drop this nonsense about finding me a wife?”
She couldn’t resist a little teasing of her own. “Teaching you all I know might take a while.”
“Really?” His tone roughened. “I look forward to the education.”
Their waiter appeared and Reed ordered wine and an appetizer. “Did I do that right?” he questioned the moment the waiter left. “Should I have asked your preference?”
Was he mocking her? She couldn’t tell. Deciding to take him seriously, she said, “A woman doesn’t mind if a man takes charge on occasion. If he knows what he’s doing.” She reached for another bread stick and snapped it, sending crumbs flying in every direction. “In this case, I’ve had the ’85 Verrazzano and it’s excellent. So is the Braseola.”
“Does that mean we’re through with meaningless chitchat?”
“I certainly hope so.”
“What’s next on your list? Oh, that’s right. It’s time for a more serious conversation.” He teased her with a slow smile. “Why don’t you examine your bread crumbs and tell me what you see. Didn’t you say you could read the future in them?”
She moistened her lips, not liking the direction he’d chosen for their discussion. “The past and present, as well as the future,” she admitted reluctantly. “Or so my friend claimed.”
“Tell me what yours say.”
She didn’t want to look. After all, what could she possibly learn that she didn’t know already? That she didn’t belong here with him? That she had no future? Or worse... Perhaps she’d learn that her mission would fail and she’d be put outside the Pearly Gates. “I’d rather not,” she whispered.
“Why?”
A deep sadness gripped her. “I’d rather not know.”
He stared in wonder. “You’re afraid.”
She managed a smile. “A little.”
“What in the world could you be afraid of?”
Nothing of this world. Heaven was another matter altogether. “You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it.”
“The bread crumbs can’t tell my future.” She didn’t have a future. At least not here.
“You can see mine, but not your own?”
“Not exactly.” She fought her frustration. “It wouldn’t apply. Not to me. Besides, it’s nothing more than a game.”
The cynicism stormed back into his expression. “Read what it says, anyway. Oh, and don’t forget the cheese.”
Reluctantly, she dropped her gaze to the tabletop. Toasted crumbs dusted the fine white linen. Upending the Parmesan shaker into her palm, she gently blew the grated cheese onto the tablecloth. It scattered among the crumbs. “Reed—”
“Start with the past.”
She didn’t need to look. She already knew what it revealed. Sure enough an arc stretched across the table in a thin, cut-off rainbow of Parmesan and crumbs. “It says...” She cleared her throat and tried again, forcing a hint of lightness into the husky tones. “It shows someone who lived life with enthusiasm. Someone who burned hot and bright. Someone who made a lot of mistakes, but never slowed her desperate rush through life.”
“There’s a lot of chunks in that section of crumbs.”
She fought to conceal the pain that must be reflected in her eyes. “Those were my stumbling blocks.”
“You had a lot of them.”
“It happens.”
His voice had gentled. “And the present?”
She tapped a long, red-tipped fingernail toward a small circle that had formed in the middle of the table. “It’s here.”
“It’s so small.”
“So’s the present. Small. Brief. A mere moment.”
“And what does it say?”
It said precisely what she expected. “That even though my time here is short, it, too, will have stumbling blocks.”
“A tough past and a tough present? That doesn’t seem fair.”
She managed to look at him. “Who ever said life was fair?”
“What about your future?”
Only cheese lay in that area. She indicated it with a sweep of her hand. “See? No crumbs. It appears to be easy sailing.” Either that...or no future. She couldn’t quite remember what she’d been told. But she couldn’t very well admit as much to him.
Fortunately the waiter arrived with their wine and appetizer. It brought a fast end to an uncomfortable topic. Reed must have felt the same way. The minute they’d placed their dinner orders and were left alone, he apologized.
“I didn’t mean to upset you.” He offered a repentant smile. “I guess I really do need dating lessons.”
“Fair enough.”
“Let’s see... What other topics can we discuss?” He snapped his fingers, the sound as sharp as a gunshot. “I know. Tell me how you came to be my secretary.”
She cupped her chin in her palm and released a gusty sigh. Why had the expression “out of the frying pan and into the fire” taken on a whole new meaning? “I was assigned to you by my supervisor.”
“Mr. Goodenkind, wasn’t it?”
“That’s him.”
“And what does he have against me?”
His comment hit so close to her own thoughts that Angie couldn’t help it. She laughed. “I’ve been asking myself that same question.”
“And what answer have you come up with?”
“I suspect we deserve each other,” she replied promptly.
He grinned. “You’re probably right.” Taking a sip of wine, he studied her curiously. “So, tell me where else you worked before landing on my doorstep.”
She found his phrasing amusing. Landed, indeed. If he only knew. “I’ve had quite a variety of jobs. I’ve been a hotel manager, worked for a law firm as a paralegal, done a bit of wrangling on a dude ranch, helped out at a computer firm and spent time as a dock worker. I’ve even been a chef.”
“A chef?” Suspicion caught in his gaze. “Where?”
She cleared her throat. “Here.”
“Here.” His eyes narrowed. “Didn’t Rollo mention something about a fire?”
She could feel a hint of warmth creep into her cheeks. “Not one of my finer hours, I must admit.”
“And have all your jobs been equally successful?”
“’Fraid so,” she confessed. “But don’t worry. There’s not much damage I can do at Harding Construction. I’m actually an excellent secretary. Some of those other jobs were...aberrations.”
“Aberrations.”
“Oh, don’t let that worry you. I’ve had an excellent working relationship with each and every one of my employers.”
“And the jobs themselves?”
Discretion seemed wise at this juncture. “Goodenkind is hoping I’ll succeed with this one.”
“And if you don’t?”
“You won’t suffer, I promise,” she hastened to say. “They’ll send in someone who’ll correct any mistakes I make.”
“And what will happen to you?”
She shrugged, giving him a reassuring smile. “If it makes you feel any better, I won’t be inflicted on anyone else.”
Reed’s brows knit together. “This is your last chance?”
“Lucky thirteen.”
“They’ll fire you if you fail again?”
Time for another change of subject. “You’re doing really well, Reed. You’re showing the perfect mix of interest and concern. There isn’t a woman anywhere who could resist a man who does that.”
“The hell with the dating lesson. I’m serious. What will you do if you’re fired from this job?”
She attempted to ease his concern with a cheerful look. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be out on my own, but I’m used to that.” When he didn’t appear convinced, she insisted, “Really. It’s not like—” She swallowed hard. “It’s not like the worl
d will come to an end. And as I said. You won’t be made to suffer. Good will see to it. He’ll send in a cleanup crew and—”
“A cleanup crew!”
She waved her hand in airy dismissal. “That’s just what I call them. It’s an expression. Nothing more. There’s rarely anything for them to clean up.”
“Except the occasional fire?”
“Rollo’s mustache grew back,” she retorted defensively.
“I’m tempted to ask about those other jobs.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“I’ll bet.”
“Oh, look. Here comes dinner.”
“Lucky escape.”
“Or heavenly intervention,” she murmured beneath her breath.
To her relief, he let it go, instead discussing various construction projects currently under development. And as he talked, she gradually relaxed, fascinated by his enthusiasm and knowledge of the industry. She suspected he’d deliberately set out to keep her entertained, to help ease the tension between them—which brought home the fact that this man didn’t need dating lessons from anyone. He managed quite well on his own.
All too well.
It wasn’t until halfway through the meal that he shoved his plate to one side and fixed her with a cool, determined gaze. “So tell me, Ms. Makepeace. Are you ready to admit the truth now?”
She froze, a forkful of frenette nere halfway to her mouth. “Excuse me?”
“I keep waiting for you to explain what we’re doing here, but so far you haven’t cooperated.”
Carefully returning her fork to her plate, she scrambled for a reply. “Haven’t we discussed this already?”
“We’ve danced around the subject any number of times.” He leaned forward. “The question I want answered is...why? Why are you so interested in my love life? What the hell business is it of yours?”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it to me.”
“It’s...it’s complicated.”
He reached out, capturing her hand in his. “You promised to always tell the truth.”
“Please don’t ask me this particular question.”
“Why?” His index finger stroked the back of her hand, tracing a leisurely path upward. “Won’t I like your answer?”
She fought to suppress an involuntary shiver. “Reed—”
“Tell me why we’re really here, Angie.”
“What do you mean?”
“You didn’t arrange this evening because you thought I needed dating lessons.”
She stared at him, startled. “Yes! Yes, I did.”
“Then why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re starving. Like you’ve been adrift for most of your life and just now found home port.”
“I’m doing no such thing.”
“You said you never lie. Yet, I’m looking into the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen and it’s all right there. The hunger. The irresistible attraction. The invitation.”
“Stop it, Reed.”
“Relax, sweetheart. I feel the same way. I wanted you the first minute I saw you, too. You were trouble in a red dress, but I didn’t have the willpower to send you away.”
“You’re not supposed to say these things to me.”
“Isn’t that why we’re here?” His eyes darkened, the dark browns and greens eclipsing the gold. “Isn’t that why we’re playing out this charade?”
She had the terrible suspicion that she’d screwed up another mission. Badly. “What do you mean?”
“You want me, Angie, every bit as much as I want you. Isn’t that why you arranged tonight?”
“No! You’ve totally misunderstood. I arranged tonight in order to teach you how to date.”
“Bull. You didn’t come tonight to teach me how to date. You came to date me.”
There was a horrible logic to his accusation. A logic she shied away from pursuing. “You’ve made a mistake,” she insisted tightly.
“Come off it, Angie. Why don’t you use some of that honesty you value so highly and admit the truth. Let’s finish this. We’ve talked. We’ve exchanged glances. We’ve even touched, though not nearly enough. To hell with coffee. To hell with dessert. Call it a love rush. Rationalize the attraction any damn way you want. But be honest about your feelings and come home with me.”
She stared at him, wide-eyed. Slowly she shook her head. “No. No, you’ve got it all wrong. You have to be wrong.”
Abruptly, she thrust back her chair and snatched up her purse. And then she walked as quickly as she could toward the exit, moving faster and faster until she looked like a finger of fire racing across the restaurant. She heard Reed call to her, but ignored him, ignored everything except the urgent need to escape. She flew past Rollo and entered the revolving doors. She felt Reed right behind, crowding her into the tiny cubicle, his heat branding her spine.
“Ah, the love rush,” Rollo called after them, raising his fingers to his lips and blowing them a kiss. “At last.”
The doors took forever to turn. Finally they opened onto the street, allowing her to escape. She didn’t linger, instead hurrying down the sidewalk away from Sarducci’s.
“Angie, wait.” Reed caught her arm before she’d gone more than half a dozen steps.
“No!” She turned to confront him. Distant thunder rumbled through the city, echoing off steel and concrete. “You don’t understand. You have it wrong. All wrong.”
A flash of lightning lit the nighttime sky, throwing the taut planes of Reed’s face into sharp relief and flashing eerily in the golden-green depths of his eyes. “Then explain it to me.”
“I’m not here for you. This...this thing between us... It’s impossible.”
“Is it?” He caught her in his arms, pulled her firmly against him. She could feel his raw power, could sense the tight rein he kept on his desire. “You swore you wouldn’t lie to me, Angie. But that’s precisely what you’re doing.”
“There’s nothing between us, Reed. There can’t be.”
“I can prove there is.” He cupped her head, his hand sinking into the knot of curls. “It would be all too easy. All I’d have to do is this....”
CHAPTER FIVE
REED bent his head to steal a kiss, then hesitated, arrested by the expression on Angie’s face.
Tears gathered in her eyes, giving mute testimony to the fact that this wasn’t a game. Not for her. He’d never known anyone with as much self-possession as this woman, someone as comfortable with herself or with the unmistakable frailty she found in others. And yet, holding her in his arms, gazing into her sea-swept eyes, he saw the painful depth of her vulnerability. She stood before him, unshielded and assailable. In the far distance, lightning clawed apart the sky again, silvering her face in its unearthly glow, illuminating what she strove so hard to disguise.
She was afraid, he realized in shock. It radiated from her with stunning force.
“What is it?” he demanded. “What are you afraid of?”
She started to turn away and he didn’t think she’d answer. Then she lifted her chin, anger vying for supremacy over her fear. “Da—Darn it all! I can’t believe this is happening. You want an answer?” The words spilled from her in an emotional torrent. “Fine, I’ll give you one. I’m afraid our relationship will get out of hand. I’m afraid I’ll fail at my job. I’m afraid of the future. But most of all, I’m afraid of what I—” Her voice broke painfully and she pulled against his hold.
He refused to release her. “Finish it. What are you most afraid of?”
“Of what I feel. There, are you satisfied now?”
“It’s a simple kiss, Angie,” he soothed. “It’s nothing to fear.”
After all, what could one kiss hurt?
He bent his head, waiting for a refusal that never came. Her silence gave him all the permission he needed. His mouth closed over hers and ever so gently he tasted the moist softness, allowing her to taste h
im, as well. It was a cautious give-and-take, slow and careful and considerate, the passion held firmly in check. It offered them a sampling of pleasures to come, a mere sip of wine-sweet anticipation.
“See?” he murmured, pulling back slightly. “Nothing to fear.”
She made no move to escape. Instead she seemed to drink in the moment, intoxicated by the pure simplicity of their kiss. Her lashes fluttered and she looked at him. The sheer joy reflected in her dream-laden eyes stunned him as much as the intensity of her yearning roused his curiosity. Perhaps she’d had a bad experience recently. Perhaps she’d been holding men at a distance. Or perhaps she just needed the warmth of human touch. Not that it mattered. Her reaction drew him, invited him to magnify that joy.
He sealed her mouth once again and this time there was nothing tentative about his kiss. He didn’t sample. He took. He didn’t lightly linger, but explored with rapacious curiosity. He melded them with lips and teeth and tongue. Her response came with a ferocious power identical to the storm bearing down around them.
It was her turn to take, her turn to explore, her turn to brand him with her unique taste and touch. Thunder reverberated beneath their feet, shuddering through them, quickening the bone-deep longing and stirring a primitive mating urge that was eons old. Her lips parted and her breath became his. She tasted like raw hunger, anticipation scenting her with the fragrance of irresistible temptation.
Physical desire slammed through his body. He wasn’t alone. Reed could see the budded tips of Angie’s breasts pressing through the thin silk of her dress, hear the harsh catch in her throat as he molded her close, feel the urgent tripping of her heartbeat. He wanted her. He wanted her in his bed, stripped of all artifice, her vulnerability transposed into strength, her passion equaled only by his own. The storm broke, pelted them with stinging spears of chilly rain. Reluctantly, Reed pulled back.
“You see?” he repeated. “There’s nothing to fear.”
Raindrops clung to Angie’s hair and lashes, glittering beneath the streetlights like liquid diamonds. “And I told you this was impossible!”
He framed her face with his hands, laughing as the skies finally opened and a cold, invigorating downpour drenched them. “Impossible? Wet, perhaps. But not impossible.”
