by Janet Dailey
"Please, call me Orin," her father insisted and cast a smiling glance at her. "No, there isn't much of a resemblance between us. Thankfully, Glenna takes after her mother, God rest her soul. She was a strikingly beautiful woman, like Glenna."
"Don't mind him. He's prejudiced." For the first time she was embarrassed by her father's compliments. Usually when he made such remarks about her looks in front of friends or strangers, she just smiled and let them pass by without comment. This time they made her uncomfortable. Or was it the dark and knowing regard of the man sitting beside her?
Jett's Scotch was served. The interruption allowed conversation to drift to another topic, much to Glenna's relief.
"Tell me, Orin, what brings you here?" Jett questioned with mild interest. "Your daughter mentioned that she was here on a combination of business and pleasure. Is that true for you, too?"
Glenna hastened to explain. "I told Mr. Coulson of my intention to write a travel article about Greenbrier."
"Glenna has quite a talent with words. I believe she said you had read some of her work;" her father attempted to dodge the initial question.
"Yes, I have," Jett admitted but didn't repeat the comment he'd made to Glenna when they'd met before. "Do you help with the research?"
"No," Orin denied with a throaty laugh. "She does everything herself. I don't know which of us is chaperoning the other. I can't say that this is strictly a pleasure trip for me since a businessman never escapes his responsibilities, not even for a weekend. I'm sure you know what I mean."
Jett nodded. "I understand."
"What brings you here?"
Glenna marveled at the bland innocence of her father's expression as if he didn't have the vaguest idea why Jett was at the inn. His face held just the right touch of curiosity and interest. She sipped her wine, wondering if Jett Coulson realized he was being bluffed.
"I'm entertaining some lobbyists from Washington." He took a swallow of straight Scotch without flinching.
"I thought I recognized some familiar faces in the lobby. That explains it," her father stated with just the right note of discovery, but Glenna was suspicious of the look Jett gave him. "I wish there were some strings they could pull for me," he sighed heavily. "The government's threatening to shut down my mine at the end of the month."
"That's too bad." The remark did not invite a further disclosure of Orin's troubles.
"Sorry, dear." Her father reached over and patted her hand. It was all Glenna could do to keep from jumping in surprise. "I promised not to bring up that subject this weekend, didn't I?"
It took her a full second to recover, during which she was careful not to look at Jett Coulson. She doubted that she was as adept as these two men were at concealing their thoughts.
"You did promise," she lied in agreement. "But I don't think I ever expected you to be able to keep it," she added the last so her father could reintroduce the subject.
"Glenna suggested this weekend excursion to distract me from the problems at the mine," her father explained. "But you're here…and the coal lobbyists. Which proves, I suppose, that a person can never run away from their problems."
"Not for long, at any rate." Jett rested his arms on the table, his silk-clad elbow brushing her forearm.
The contact swerved his gaze to her. Glenna realized why his regard was so deliciously unnerving. He looked at her as if she were the only woman in the entire room. The enigmatic glow in his dark eyes seemed to say that he knew a lot about her already, and wanted to know a lot more. His appeal was a devastating combination of virile charm and ruthless determination. Glenna could feel it slowly crumbling her resistance.
"How has your company been affected by the new government regulations?" Her father's inquiry released her from Jett's gaze. "I know you strip-mine the majority of your coal and have the Reclamation Act to contend with, but I'm referring specifically to the underground coal that can't be strip-mined."
The two men talked about mining in general for a while—its politics, new technology, and its future potential. Glenna became aware that her father was slowly steering the conversation in the direction he wanted it to take, subtly dropping facts and figures about his mine. When he nudged her with his foot, she took the hint.
She pushed her chair back from the table and smiled under Jett's questioning regard. "You and dad will probably talk 'coal' for another hour or more. In the meantime I think I'll go to my room to shower and change for dinner. If you'll excuse me."
As she rose so did Jett Coulson. At first she thought his action was prompted by courtesy until she saw him glance at his watch.
"It is getting late…and I have to change before dinner, too," he announced with casual indifference.
Glenna silently applauded the absence of frustration and disappointment on her father's face, two emotions that he had to be feeling. Instead he was smiling quite broadly.
"Well, I'm certainly not going to sit here and drink alone." Placing both hands on the table, he pushed to his feet. "I'll come with you, Glenna, and change for dinner, too."
When she noticed his legs appear wobbly from sitting for such a long time, she absently hooked an arm through her father's to give him support without it appearing that it was her purpose. Taking her time Glenna strolled in the direction of the lounge exit while she continued to help her father.
"Thank you for the drink, Orin." Jett Coulson kept pace with them. "And for the interesting conversation."
"I enjoyed talking to you," her father returned. "We'd like you to have dinner with us tonight. You are more than welcome to join us, if you're free."
"As I mentioned I'm entertaining guests this weekend." As he paused his gaze strayed over each of them. "You and your daughter are welcome to sit at my table this evening."
"We wouldn't want to intrude," Glenna was surprised to hear her father resist the invitation.
"You won't be intruding. Everyone at the table will probably be talking coal anyway," Jett shrugged.
"In that case—" her father made a pretense of hesitating as he glanced at her "—we'll be glad to accept."
As they left the lounge and walked to the elevator, Jett explained that he had made reservations to dine at eight o'clock in the formal dining room. By the time they reached the elevators, her father was steady enough on his feet that he no longer needed Glenna's support. She released his arm to enter the elevator first. There wasn't any opportunity to talk during the ride up to their floor since other guests had crowded into the elevator, too.
When the elevator stopped at their floor, she was surprised to discover that Jett had disembarked with them. She glanced at her father, who was also frowning in bewildered astonishment.
"Is this your floor, too?" he asked.
"Yes," Jett nodded with barely a change in his expression.
"Isn't that a coincidence?" her father declared on an incredulous laugh. "It's ours, too."
"Yes, it certainly is." The dry inflection of his voice seemed to doubt it, but Glenna couldn't be sure. "I'll see you in the dining room at eight."
As he moved off down the hall, Glenna walked with her father to their adjoining suites. Suspicion reared its head, but she didn't voice it until Jett Coulson was out of hearing.
"Did you know he had a room on this floor?" she questioned.
"Of course." He unlocked his door and Glenna followed him into his suite. "Every gambler knows he has to even the odds if he can."
"Jett Coulson plays poker, too, dad."
Her remark sent a serious look chasing across his tired facet "Yes, I noticed. And he's damned good at it, too. I never once suspected that he would decide to leave when you got up to go." Then he shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I'll have another chance."
At the moment she wasn't concerned about the missed opportunity. "Why don't you rest for an hour? You have plenty of time to get ready for dinner."
"Yes, I think I'll do that." He moved woodenly toward the bed and stretched his gaunt frame atop the bed cov
er.
Glenna studied him for a worried second, then unlocked the connecting door to her separate suite of rooms. She slipped quietly inside and leaned against the closed door. Had she been wrong to suggest this battle to save the mine, their home, everything? For the first time she doubted her father's ability to sway Jett Coulson onto his side.
When she dressed for dinner later that evening, she recalled her father's remark that they would go out in style. In a month they may not have a place to live, but tonight she was going to be dressed as elegantly as any woman in the room.
The jade green silk of her dress was an exotic foil to the burnished chestnut of her hair, swept atop her head in a mass of ringlets and secured by jeweled combs that had belonged to her mother. The jade material encircled her throat, leaving her shoulders and arms bare. It was nipped in tightly at the waistline, then flared into a skirt. With it she carried a crocheted shawl of silver threads.
When she knocked on the connecting door, her father was fighting with the knot of his tie. She tied it for him, noting how much good the short rest had done him. Together they went downstairs, arriving at the dining room precisely at eight o'clock. All but two of Jett's party were already there.
Glenna was aware of the curious glances she received as she was introduced to the men around the table. Their silent speculation increased when Jett seated her in a chair to his right. Her father was given the chair next to her, which put Glenna between the two men. Her position and the other guests at the table virtually negated her father's chances to talk privately with Jett.
The conversation around the dinner table was lively, focused mainly on coal as Jett had predicted. Her father included himself in the discussion quite easily. Mostly Glenna just listened to the stimulating and intelligent exchanges. She couldn't help noticing how bluntly Jett stated his opinions, never couching his replies in diplomatic terms. In contrast everyone else appeared to be the epitome of tact, phrasing their remarks so they wouldn't offend anyone.
It was a trait, she discovered, that was not limited to business discussion when Jett inquired, "Are you bored with the conversation?"
The others were busy talking and appeared unaware of the question he had addressed to Glenna. "No, I'm not bored." She lifted her gaze briefly from the prime rib she was cutting to the velvet sheen of his glance. "Dad and Bruce usually sit at the dinner table talking about daily coal production, grades and tonnage. I'm used to it."
"Bruce?" His voice carried an aloof curiosity for the identity of this unknown person.
"Bruce Hawkins," Glenna supplied the rest of his name. "He manages the mine for dad." She thought she felt his gaze boring into her, but she looked up as Jett was making a leisurely sweep of the guests.
"Does it bother you being the only female at the table?" He idly speared a piece of meat on his fork and carried it to his mouth.
Glenna let her own fork rest on the china dinner plate, bewildered by the question that had nothing to do with the subject they had previously been discussing. This confusion was reflected in her eyes.
"Why should it bother me?" she asked with a slight frown.
"I didn't say it 'should,'" he corrected smoothly. "I asked if it did."
"No, it doesn't." But she still didn't understand the point of the question.
"Perhaps you enjoy being the object of so many admiring glances?" Jett suggested.
She wasn't going to deny that she had received some. "I'm flattered, but—" Glenna didn't bother to finish the sentence, abandoning the defensive to counter. "Maybe I should ask you that first question. Does it bother you that I'm the only female at a table with all these men?"
"Not as long as you're sitting beside me it doesn't." He didn't have to hesitate over his answer, issuing it smoothly without as much as a glance in her direction.
A question from one of the other guests ended the personal conversation as Jett responded to it. The vaguely possessive ring that had been in his voice seemed to confirm that she was being singled out for his attention by this forthright and virile man. And that bothered Glenna, creating fluttering butterflies in her stomach, because she was beginning to regard him as a man rather than just as someone her father wished to do business with.
This change in attitude prompted her to notice more details about him. She studied his hard angular features, taking note of the straight bridge of his nose, the flat planes of his cheeks, his strong chin and clean jawline. On either side of his mouth arcing indentations were grooved to soften the harshness of its thin line. Sun creases fanned out from the corners of his eyes, tilting upward to emphasize the enigmatic and smiling gleam that was always in his dark eyes.
His hands and fingers were long and strong boned, but there was nothing slender or delicate about them. As Glenna watched their deft and competent movements, her imagination began weaving fantasies about their skill in a lover's caress and the sensations they might arouse on her sensitive skin. That thought was one step away from imagining the persuasive force of his mouth on hers. At that point Glenna brought her wayward thoughts to a screeching halt. No purpose would be served except to heighten her already overstimulated libido.
Distraction was provided when the dinner plates were removed and coffee was served. Jett took out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to her. She shook her head in silent refusal.
"Do you mind if I smoke?" An eyebrow was quirked in accompaniment to his question.
"I don't mind." Glenna shook her head again.
Jett started to light it, then paused to glance at her father. "Would you care for a cigarette, Orin?"
"No." His was a reluctant refusal. "The doctor made me quit smoking three years ago when I had my heart attack." But he made no mention of his recent one.
"You seem to have enjoyed a full recovery." Jett exhaled a trail of smoke, studying her father through its grayness.
Glenna was surprised to hear her father admit, "But I'm not the man I once was."
When the waiter returned a few minutes later to refill their coffee cups, a debate began among the guests whether to have more coffee or to visit the lounge for after-dinner drinks. The majority decided on the lounge, which started a general exodus from the table.
"Will you be joining us in the lounge?" Jett asked as her father courteously pulled back her chair for Glenna to stand.
The glance she exchanged with her father indicated they were both of the same mind, but he was the one who spoke. "No, thank you. It's been a long day and I need my rest."
"Thank you for dinner, Mr. Coulson," Glenna added.
"It was my pleasure."
"We enjoyed the meal…and the company." Her father inserted his expression of gratitude. "Good night."
"Good night." His gaze touched each of them, lingering for a pulsing second on Glenna.
Outside the dining room Glenna and her father separated themselves from the others to walk toward the elevators. Glenna was fully aware that she possessed too much nervous energy to go to sleep yet. She would simply toss and turn if she went to bed now.
"If you don't mind, dad, I'm not coming up with you. I think I'll take a walk outside and enjoy a little of the night air before turning in," she explained.
"I certainly don't mind," he assured her. "I'll see you at breakfast in the morning."
"Good night." She brushed a kiss across his cheek, then left him to walk to a door exiting the inn.
She was nearly to the door when she saw Jett Coulson approaching. She felt the excited fluttering of her nerve ends, her pulse altering its rhythm to an uneven patter.
"Going for a stroll, Miss Reynolds?" The mildness of his tone made it less of a question and more of a complacent guess.
Glenna stopped to respond just the same. "I thought I'd walk off some of the dinner before turning in."
He paused beside her, dangerously attractive in his dark evening clothes. "That was exactly my intention. Shall we go together?"
The levelness of his gaze held a silent challenge. Ala
rm bells rang in her head, sending out dire warnings of the consequences in accepting. Glenna knew exactly what would happen if she took a moonlight stroll with this man. So did he. If she didn't want to know what it would be like in his arms, this was the time to say no.
"Why not?" she agreed with an expressive lift of a shoulder and returned the directness of his look.
Chapter Four
OUTSIDE the briskness of the night air prompted Glenna to lift the silver shawl to cover the bareness of her shoulders and arms from the slight chill. The touch of coolness seemed to heighten her senses, making her keenly aware of the male figure walking a scant half step behind her.
By silent consent Jett had allowed her to set the pace and the direction of their stroll. Glenna led him away from the stately white hotel onto the tree-shaded grounds. Once they had escaped the bright lights shining on the building, Glenna slowed her pace still more to wander beneath the trees.
Overhead the cloudless sky was a patchwork of stars. A misty moon sent its beams to illuminate the lawn wherever the newly leafed trees failed to shade it. Nature's creatures were offering their night songs to the breezeless air.
Glenna paused beneath a tree and leaned carefully against its rough trunk to gaze through vee openings of its branches at the sequin-studded sky. The shawl was hugged tightly around her, not in defense of the slight chill but to hold onto the enchantment of the scene.
Unbidden, the opening lines of a song came to her mind. "Almost heaven," she unconsciously murmured them aloud. The sound of her voice echoed in her ears, stirring her to the realization that she had spoken her thoughts. Straightening from the tree trunk she glanced at Jett. He was watching her, his stance relaxed. "Do you remember the song 'Country Roads'?"
"Mmm." It was an affirmative response.
Glenna wandered to the edge of the shadow the tree cast in the moonlight. The ground beneath her feet was uneven so she moved carefully.
