by Helen Conrad
She made a face at him. “Not yet.”
He frowned again, as though that was an annoying development, then, realizing what he was doing, his face relaxed and he laughed softly.
“Then what good are you, woman?” he said, teasing both himself and her at the same time. He dropped a quick kiss on her fingers and released her, turning toward the telephone with a frown. “I’ll try and get this Rosa person, if you’ll start the tea.”
She nodded absently, her fingers tingling. And what was even odder, her heart was racing just a little bit. Suddenly she was remembering the kiss they’d shared earlier in the afternoon. Why was she thinking of that now? She glanced at Tanner where he sat dialing the ancient telephone and knew it was the farthest thing from his mind.
And that was just as it should be, of course. There were much more important things to think about. Now, if only she could get her mind channeled... She set her lips and started searching for a canister of tea.
Tanner’s rude exclamation made her turn.
“No answer,” he explained, looking at the sheet of phone numbers again. “There’s a doctor listed here. I’m going to try him.”
“Good.” A doctor. Great.
If they could get a doctor over here, they could leave everything in his or her hands. A sense of relief swept over her. A doctor would surely know what to do. She went back to brewing the tea with a lighter heart.
Tanner called two or three numbers before he finally slammed down the phone and turned to her.
“No luck,” he said starkly, his face curiously pale. “Everyone’s going to get back to me. Sometime. Someday. Maybe in time for the baby’s first day at kindergarten.”
No doctor. Kat’s hands felt cold.
Tanner looked at her. She looked back, and for just a moment, it was as though something passed between them. Some message. Some fleeting emotion. She drew her breath in and looked away quickly. The main thing she had to guard against right now was being drawn into his field of attraction. It was powerful stuff, but she had to resist.
“Here, I’ll take the tea up to her,” he said, taking the tray Kat had prepared and starting up the stairs.
She watched until he was out of sight, then turned and began rummaging through the phone book for a number to call for a cab. It was definitely time to make her escape. She’d stayed too long as it was. But before she had time to find the listing, he was back, tray in hand.
“Shelley’s asleep,” he said happily, his face relaxed at last.
Kat sighed with relief. “Oh, good. Does that mean... ?”
“That she’s not having the baby yet?” He shrugged. “Who knows?” He sank down onto the bar stool set in front of the long counter. “She looks like an angel, lying there. I guess there’s no emergency, after all.”
“Thank goodness.” Kat had to smile back at him, he looked so endearingly relieved. Then she remembered her good intentions and frowned. “I suppose I should be going. I’ll just call a cab.”
He watched her walk all the way to the telephone and pick it up before he did anything to stop her.
“Don’t go yet,” he said softly, and when she turned and looked at him, his eyes were dark and softly shadowed.
She hesitated. “I really should go back and find my mother,” she said, watching his face for his reaction.
He groaned. “I didn’t know she was lost,” he muttered, looking away.
“Ah, but she is,” Kat answered wisely, looking about for her purse. “She’s been lost since she first laid eyes on your uncle.”
His dark head rose and he stared at her. “Sit down,” he said gruffly. “We need to talk.’’
She shook her head, still looking under tables and around chairs for her pocketbook. “No, I really have to catch my mother as soon as she gets back from the sail.”
Frowning, he shook his head. “Why?” he asked simply.
She threw him a significant glance. “I think you know why,” she said evenly. “I have to warn her, of course.”
He watched her, bemused, as she retraced her path, still searching. It was so odd the way she fit the pattern she set up. If he didn’t know better, he really would think she was a perfect innocent. She almost made him feel guilty with her wide-eyed credulity.
“Still can’t find your purse?” he said at last, his mouth twisted in a wry smile. “I’m surprised you haven’t accused me of stealing it.”
She pushed her hair back with a quick, impatient thrust. “I’m coming to that,” she said crisply. “I’m sure you know exactly where it is and you’re just sitting there, laughing at me.”
She turned and looked at him, but he wasn’t laughing. “You really think I’m a jerk, don’t you?” he said softly, his voice brittle, his face empty of all expression.
She hesitated, looking at him, at the grooves that lined his mouth, the set of his lips, the shadows in his eyes. No, he wasn’t a jerk. He was a man, and despite everything, she ought to treat him like the decent human being he had been to her from the beginning.
Forgetting her search, she came back and sat on the stool next to the one he occupied. “I think we should talk, too,” she admitted. “I want to. In fact, I want to level with you totally.”
He stared at her, suddenly on his guard. Little prickles of warning were running up and down his spine. “So you’re going to level with me, are you?” he said smoothly, not letting his trepidation show. “Is this a unique experience for you?”
She winced and sighed. “No, now come on, don’t be insulting until you’ve heard it all.”
“All right.” A flash of humor glittered in his icy blue eyes. “I’ll hold my insults until the end.’’
“Thank you.” She looked at him and shook her head. What an impossible man. “I want it all out in the open, every bit of it, what I think, what you think.”
She waited, but he didn’t say anything, and after a pause, she went on quickly.
“This is the way things really are. This is why I’m here.” She took a deep breath and plunged in. “My mother always dreamed about a vacation in California and when she read about Nueva Bahia, she knew that was the place she wanted to go.”
“She and my aunt Mimi made reservations, and then Mimi broke her leg and Mom ended up coming out here alone, even though I really thought she ought to wait until someone could come with her. But she was so anxious to come, and she promised to phone every day and only go on guided group tours and so I said okay, if you are very, very careful.”
His sigh was loud and pointed as he leaned his chin in his hand. “I get the general idea.”
She hesitated. Had she been rambling?
“Okay. Anyway, she came alone. And then, the next thing I knew, she had met your uncle and he was so-o-o wonderful, and they were having so-o-o much fun, and she was extending her vacation to be with him. Well, you can see why I panicked.” She gazed at him earnestly.
He blinked, not seeing at all. “You panicked?”
“Sure. You’ve got to understand. She’s very vulnerable right now. She hasn’t really had any serious male friends since my father died twelve years ago. And then all of a sudden, there’s your uncle. It’s very flattering, the way he’s been treating her.”
His shrug was continental, which only made her more suspicious. “Of course. That’s the point, isn’t it?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Maybe. But the real question is, why is he being so nice to her?”
“Why is he being so nice to her?” Tanner seemed to be at a loss. “Because Uncle John is a nice man. What’s so mysterious about that? He generally treats people well.” He raised an eyebrow. “That may seem odd where you come from, but that happens to be the way it is.”
She bit her lip, shaking her head. “Don’t pretend that you don’t understand. You may think it’s all a big joke, but I don’t. From what I’ve seen, your uncle is...” She grimaced and fought the urge to close her eyes as she said the word. “A crook. I mean it, Tanner. I’ve seen eviden
ce that he’s a fortune hunter who is trying to get his hands on my mother’s money.”
There, she’d said it. She hadn’t just played with it or used it as a weapon in a continuing game of one-upmanship— she’d really said it, calmly and coolly. He had to know she meant it. She took a deep breath and looked into his eyes to see how he was taking what she’d said. He still seemed puzzled.
“What money?” he asked, frowning. She was so obviously revealing all to him, and yet he still wasn’t sure he understood. Was the mother some sort of heiress? If so, he’d missed that bit of information somewhere along the line.
But Kat was looking at him expectantly. “You know. The lottery money.”
“The lottery money.” She was talking about the lottery money. He’d forgotten about the lottery money. He fought hard to keep the grin out of his voice but it was getting very difficult.
“You mean...” He coughed, then went on. “You mean those thousands of dollars that she won?”
“Yes.” Kat’s face was bright, candid.
He tried one more time, trying to get this straight. “That’s it? That’s her fortune?”
“Yes.” She grimaced. Good grief, maybe the man was denser than he seemed. Why was it so difficult for him to digest this simple concept?
“And you think that Uncle John is after it?” He had to turn away. The grin just wouldn’t stay off his face. This had to be a joke. He spent more on his office Christmas party, just for his personal staff, than Kat’s mother had won in the lottery. Didn’t she realize... ?
But no. She didn’t realize. This was big money to her. He sobered and looked her over again, saw her as he hadn’t really seen her before. And it was a revelation to him.
Kat clenched her hands together in front of her on the counter, not sure why he was looking at her so oddly, “Well, you know, that is just the way it looks to me. I have to protect my mother and her future. That money is all she has, and...” She swallowed hard. “I’m not going to let her risk losing it.”
His brow furrowed. It wasn’t a joke at all. She was in deadly earnest. He looked into her wide, honest eyes and knew, somehow, that she was telling the absolute truth, as she knew it. She was probably incapable of lying. He wanted to laugh out loud.
What was the matter with her? Didn’t she have any survival instincts at all? She was a complete innocent, and she most surely had no idea what kind of money his branch of the Carrington family represented.
He searched her eyes. This was for real. She didn’t know he was rich and powerful. She had no idea that one word from him could make or break fortunes, that people depended on him for their very existence. She thought he was an ordinary person.
An ordinary person. It had been years since anyone had treated him that way--since the army. He’d forgotten how it felt.
“So you see,” she went on, still trying to explain her position, “the reason I invited your uncle to lunch and acted the way I did was that I was trying to find out if he was on the up~and-up or not. I mean, does he really care for my mother? Or is he suddenly going to have some marvelous investment for her to sink all her money into?”
He was still searching her dark gaze, hardly believing the evidence he found there. She was the first woman who hadn’t looked at him with dollar signs in her eyes for as long as he could easily remember.
“What if it was the other way around?” he asked her softly, studying her reaction. “What if my uncle was the rich one and I thought you and your mother were after his money?”
Kat smiled. He’d tried this scenario before. It was her turn to be amused. “I don’t think that’s quite possible, is it?” Her hand fluttered, dismissing the idea. “I mean...I’ve heard the rumors. I’ve talked to the maids.”
That surprised him. “What rumors?”
She’d gone this far, she might as well go all the way. “They say your uncle comes down here every year about this time and charms some widow. He’s obviously a playboy.”
“Obviously.” There was no denying that. But how could she have come up with the gold-digger angle? “That doesn’t make him a fortune hunter.”
She shrugged. “No, But from what the maids have told me, the women he picks for his attentions are invariably wealthy.”
His mouth twisted. “Of course. Only wealthy women stay at this hotel.”
She hesitated, then her eyes narrowed again. “True. And maybe that’s exactly why he comes here.”
Impeccable logic, he had to admit. He shook his head, his mouth curling in a smile. “Is that what you really think?”
“That seems to be the general consensus.”
His smile broadened. Her clear eyes told him she believed in her theory completely. He held back his chuckle. There was something rather adorable about her open candor. “You don’t speak Spanish, do you?”
“No.”
“And you’re trying to get information out of people who don’t speak a lot of English.”
“That’s true.” Her chin rose. “But I think I got the gist of it.”
He laughed softly. He was really beginning to enjoy this. When you came right down to it, she was an intriguing paradox—delightfully naive and stunningly cynical all at the same time.
“What a suspicious mind you have.”
“Not really.” Her hair swayed as she shook her head. “I’m just careful.”
She was careful, all right. A little too careful. His brows drew together and he considered her speculatively. Suddenly he realized what it was that he was feeling as he looked into her open gaze. She touched him. Her fierce determination to protect her mother, her brave front, her obvious vulnerability—these elements all combined to rouse a sleeping emotion deep inside him that hadn’t been awakened for a long, long time.
Reaching out, he took her hand in his, “Who did this to you, Kat?” he asked gently. “What’s made you so determined to protect yourself ?”
Her heart jumped and she drew in her breath, staring at him. No one had ever accused her of being paranoid before. Didn’t he know...? But of course he didn’t know. He knew nothing about Jeffrey and how he had turned her life upside down, how he had taken reality and tilted it until she wasn’t sure if she would ever get her balance back again. But that was long ago and all over. She was just careful, that was all. She had to be.
“Nothing,” she said quickly, pulling her hand away from his. “Nothing at all. I-it’s just my nature.”
“Sure.” He watched as she clasped her hands tightly together in her lap and nodded. If she didn’t want to talk about it, that was her right.
But where did all this leave them? He believed her implicitly, but that didn’t mean he believed her mother. Kat might not be in on the scheme. That didn’t mean the mother was pure as the driven snow, as well.
“So what is your goal, exactly? To throw cold water on this little romance and take your mother home?”
Kat swallowed hard and made a face. It sounded so cold and heartless the way he put it, “That’s just about it.”
Funny. That fit right in with his plans. No problem. It looked as though he could relax a bit. And maybe enjoy himself.
“I can buy that. In fact, I’ll help you.”
“Help me?”
“Sure. I don’t like the way this thing is going any more than you do” He threw her a jaunty grin. “We’ll work together. It’ll be fun. And we’ll have time to work on us.”
“Us?” Things were moving a little too fast for Kat. “There is no ‘us’’’ she protested.
“Sure there is.” He reached out and captured her hand in his own. “You know it as well as I do. There’s been an ‘us’ since we first laid eyes on each other this morning. The question ever since has been, what are we going to do about it?”
She stared at him. She hadn’t expected this, but her heart was beating very fast and she knew she could like it an awful lot... if she let herself.
“Nothing.” She shook her head quickly. “I mean, there’s nothing t
o do.”
He drew her fingers to his lips and kissed them softly. “Sure there is. We could always make out.”
“Make out?” The idea was too outrageous to consider. She pulled her hand away and rubbed it against her jeans. Her tone was defiant. “Why would I want to make out with you?”
He smiled, his eyes as blue as a field of lupine. “Because you like the way I kiss.’’
She was blushing. She could feel the heat creeping into her cheeks. But she had to try to maintain a bit of dignity. “Where did you get that idea?” she countered.
The lines beside his mouth deepened. “I can tell.”
She dropped her gaze and began to play with the spoon lying beside her teacup. “As a matter of fact, I don’t like the way you kiss,” she lied as calmly as she could manage. “You treat it like some kind of sport, like a game of volleyball or a hand of bridge.”
She glanced at his eyes and it was just as bad as she’d feared. He was laughing at her. “I don’t like to think of kissing as a game.”
“Oh, no?” He raised one dark eyebrow. “What is it, then?”
She moistened her lips nervously, then regretted the move, “It’s an emotional connection between two people,” she declared, raising her chin challengingly.
Reaching out, he curled his fingers around the lapel of her shirt. “So we made an emotional connection earlier today, did we?” he asked softly.
Her eyes widened with alarm. “No!”
He tugged gently on her shirt. “Come on, that’s what you said.”
She tried to glare, but she couldn’t quite get the hang of it. “Why do we have to categorize what happened?” she protested.
He was leaning closer, holding her in position with his grip on her shirt. “Because I want to know.”
She frowned, getting confused as she always seemed to when he was this close. “Know what?” she asked.
His eyes were deep and dark and mesmerizing. “What kissing means to you.”
She swallowed hard and tried to look away. “Kissing you meant nothing to me,” she said, the lie so blatant even she knew no one would ever believe it. That just made her try harder at the glaring bit. “If you’re so anxious to get in some kissing, you ought to go find some woman who agrees with you and kiss her.”
