by Billie Green
"Lynda," Rae said. "I don't know her last name."
"That woman doesn't need a last name." The brunette shot a glance at Rae. "Is she with Tanner? Please don't tell me she's with Tanner."
Rae shook her head. "Not Tanner. Drew. She's staying out at Ashkelon. I got a glimpse of her last week when I went out to talk to Old Joe."
"Look at the way she moves. No, wait, they're passing right behind you. Don't look yet," Glenna added quickly. "Look at that hair. What do rich women do to their hair to make it look so ... so rich? Look at the way she—"
"Will you stop telling me to look? Didn't your mother ever tell you that staring is rude?"
Glenna exhaled what was a cross between a groan and a sigh. "You don't see people like that in Dicton. She's sophisticated. She's pampered. She's—"
"Hot," Rae said, her voice clipped.
"Yeah, that's it. That's it exactly. She's hot."
Crumpling her napkin, Rae dropped it on the table. "Are you through with that goo yet? I'm ready to go."
"Let me make a quick trip to the ladies' room first. I want to pass by their table and get a better look. I hate her, Rae. I really actually totally hate her. She's at the same table with Tanner, and she makes every other woman in town look like Broomhilda in comparison. Why doesn't she go back to where she came from and leave our men . . ."
Glenna was still muttering as she walked away. Rae, alone now at the table, stared steadily at the outsized sombrero on the opposite wall, using it as a focus to keep her eyes from drifting in the direction of Drew's table. She didn't want to see Lynda with her rich-looking hair and her Hot factor. She didn't want to be reminded that—
"You're looking especially wholesome tonight."
With an inward groan Rae raised her chin and turned her head toward the voice. Tanner stood beside the table. Tonight he wore a white western-cut shirt with his jeans. His boots were polished, his hair almost neat.
It was the first time she had seen him since that day at Ashkelon. But unfortunately out of sight, out of mind didn't work when Tanner was involved.
By recommending her to Old Joe, he had made it impossible for her to ignore his existence.
After Rae had finished work on Joe McCallister's will, the old man hadn't given her a single sign of approval, but neither had he criticized. And according to Glenna, when you were dealing with John Joseph McCallister, the absence of criticism was the equivalent of high praise. As a result, although none of the cases were big or spectacular, her practice was definitely picking up.
In fact, Rae would have been feeling a little smug about her future in Dicton except for one thing. Every time a new client walked into her office, she was forced to remember that Tanner was responsible, which was exactly the result he had been hoping for.
"Hello, Tanner," she said, keeping her voice even.
With a short laugh he swung a chair around from the next table and straddled it, folding his forearms on the back as he ran his gaze over her stiff features.
"Hello, Rae." His tone mocked her politeness; his dark eyes gleamed with reckless mischief. "I just thought I'd stop by to see how you're feeling. Lukewarm? Room temperature?" When she shot him a look, he laughed again. "Definitely frostbitten."
"Has it ever occurred to you that I am just exactly how I want to be?"
"Nope." The word was amused but uncompromising.
"You are what you are because other people told you this is what you should be. You were never given a choice. You can't tell me that when you were a little girl in pigtails somebody gave you a list and you checked off 'Repressed.' Uh-uh. I don't buy it."
Her lips tightened. "I am not repressed. I just don't happen to be obvious."
He moved his shoulders in a brief shrug. "Sometimes obvious is what it takes. If you think Drew is going to start carrying a shovel so he can dig down to the real you, think again. It's like the old joke about talking to a mule. First you have to hit it in the head with a two-by-four to get its attention."
He rubbed his chin with the knuckle of his index finger, studying her with those unnerving dark eyes. "Why don't you switch your sights to someone who can appreciate your less than obvious charms? Bud Arnold over at the post office is looking for a woman, has been for twenty years now. His requirements aren't what you would call exacting. If you can cook, you're in. Or maybe you'd prefer someone who still has hair. Let's see . .. Jerry Don Boyd just got a divorce. His wife took him to the cleaner's, so right now all Jerry Don needs is a good listener."
When she stubbornly refused to comment, he rose to his feet and swung the chair back around. "And then of course there's me," he said, his husky voice taunting her. "I've always loved a challenge."
He watched her, taking in the way the fingers of her right hand clenched around the paper napkin, and then, with a low, lingering laugh, he turned and walked away.
An hour later, when Rae walked into her small house, she was still fuming. Throwing her purse on the couch, she walked straight through to her bedroom and stood in front of the full-length mirror. First she examined her face close up, then she stepped back and studied herself from a distance, turning first this way, then that.
Her auburn hair was pulled back in a French twist, but as usual a few curls had escaped on her forehead and at her temples. Her dress, pale blue linen trimmed with white piping, was attractive and well made. Her figure wasn't bad. There were the required number of curves with no unsightly bulges. Her skin was her best feature. Smooth and creamy. Not a blemish, not a single freckle.
She looked nice and friendly. An objective person might even be moved to say she was pretty. In a wholesome, good-as-gold sort of way.
Swinging away from her reflection, she flopped back on her bed. Damn his eyes, Tanner was right. She looked like somebody's kid sister.
The next day Rae entered her okay-so-I'm-dull phase. For a week she wore her dowdiest clothes and no makeup other than powder. Once, she even showed up for work with her hair pulled back in a tight little bun, causing Glenna to choke on her breakfast Twinkie.
But then on the following Friday, as she sat trying to wade through a year of Seraphina Rodale's electricity bills, something happened to Rae. Something unfolded inside her, a little piece of personal growth that took her by surprise.
She had paused in her work, resting her chin on the palm of one hand to gaze at Johnny's picture, when out of the blue, it occurred to her that she had never fought for anything in her life.
Her parents were wealthy and kind; she was an only child, healthy, intelligent, and relatively conformable; she had fallen in love with Johnny as a child, and he loved her back; she had been hired by a well-established law firm while still at law school.
It was a pattern. All of it, everything Rae had ever wanted, had been handed to her. Not once had she been forced to pursue, to struggle to achieve. She had never had to use her determination and ingenuity to get what she wanted.
If she possessed such things as determination and ingenuity, she thought with an uncomfortable frown.
Leaning back in the chair, she studied the ceiling for a while, her expression blank, her thoughts involved. And that was when she made the decision.
It was time for Rae to find out just exactly what she was made of.
❧
Tanner walked slowly up the steps and opened the door. Then, instead of going inside, he turned and leaned against the doorjamb, looking out across the land.
His house, the place he had called home since he was sixteen years old, was a small, nondescript cabin at the very back of the McCallister property. Before moving here, he had stayed in a bedroom off the kitchen at the big house. It had taken him almost two months to convince Joe that he was old enough to live by himself, but eventually he had done it. Tanner could be just as stubborn as the old man when he wanted to be.
Nineteen years and Tanner still loved it out here. He loved the isolation, the uncluttered freedom. And most of the time the distant view, the view he was gazin
g at now, brought him a measure of peace.
But not tonight. Tonight the demons inside Tanner were running wild.
It happened sometimes. He would stand watching darkness grow across the land and would feel it growing inside him as well. Darkness and a hot, restless spirit that boiled through his insides.
When he was younger, he had used whiskey to chase the mood away, but it hadn't taken him long to figure out that alcohol merely made the bad times last longer. Riding it out was the only way.
He had intended to go up to the big house later for a poker game, but he knew he wouldn't. It would be better for everyone if he was alone tonight.
Turning away from the shadowy landscape, he closed the door behind him with a little shove and stripped off his shirt, dropping it on the floor as he headed for the shower.
It had been a long, hot, dusty day and the night didn't look as though it was getting any better.
❧
Rae stepped from her car and stood looking across it toward the house. Then, drawing in a deep breath, she began to move, around the car, across the bare yard, and up three unpainted wooden steps.
At the door she hesitated, and several seconds passed before she finally straightened her back and raised her hand to knock.
At her first tap the wooden door swung open under her hand. Across the threshold, it was dark. Dark and silent. Empty. Tanner wasn't home.
A small laugh escaped her. For two solid hours she had been worrying, arguing silently, trying to build up enough courage to come out here. And now he wasn't home.
Leaning forward, she grasped the knob to pull the door shut. But somehow, when the door closed, she was on the wrong side, inside his house instead of on her way back to the car.
Rae had never been a nosy person. She held a great respect for the privacy of the individual, but there was something about being given the chance to inspect the lair of Dicton's lone wolf that was too compelling for her to resist.
The cabin was one big open space. Kitchen, dining room, sitting room, and bedroom all came together in a single living area. And although the sides were more window than wall, there was not a curtain to be seen. Unhampered moonlight silvered the area, giving relief from the darkness, hinting at mysterious shapes and surfaces.
The room was a mess. Clothes on the floor and on chairs. Newspapers scattered across the couch and falling off the massive stone coffee table. His bed—extra long, extra wide, and minus a headboard—was unmade, the cover hanging half on and half off as though it had been flung impatiently aside.
Stacks of paperback books covered the top of the bedside table and, moving closer, Rae picked up one and held it to a stream of moonlight, curious to see what a man like Tanner West chose to read.
Contrary to her expectations, the book she held wasn't something with erotic illustrations. It was Thomas Hardy's Jude the Obscure. And there were Steinbeck, Thoreau, and Faulkner. Not-a single—
In the next instant Rae's breath left her in a soft whoosh as she was caught around the waist and thrown back onto the bed.
When a solid weight settled on top of her, she fought instinctively. With her heart pounding in her ears and her breath coming in short gasps, she struggled wildly against the shadowy force that held her down. And as she fought, as she pushed and twisted, her hands came up against warm, damp flesh. Hard, naked flesh.
Tanner was home after all.
"Lonely, Rae?" The words were a rasping whisper against her left ear. "Tired of dusty dreams? I thought I wanted to be alone tonight." She felt his laughter in the tips of her fingers, in her palms, and on her cheek. "Just shows how a person never really knows his own mind."
"Don't be an idiot," she said, breathless, as she continued to try to push him off her. "I came out here to—"
"—to visit the wicked side of life? Turnabout's fair play. I took a trip to the land of the good. Now you get to see how the other half lives. The half that goes to sleep satisfied." His voice grew even huskier as his lips brushed across the side of her neck. "Tell me your fantasies, Rae. Tell me and I'll make them happen."
When he shifted his position slightly, his lower body moved against hers, bringing a sharp twinge of awareness that surged through her, startling her.
"Tanner . . . get off!" she gasped.
He moved his chin in a rough caress at the base of her throat. "Or maybe it would be better if I helped you out. I don|t want to hurt your feelings, Rae, but I'm afraid your fantasies might be a little on the dull side. How about I list the possibilities for you? All you have to do is stop me when I get to the one that turns you on."
Again silent laughter shook him. "Put your missionary-position past right out of your mind, sweetness, because tonight you're going to find out what it's all about. For starters, we could try an erotic little exercise I learned back when—"
Gathering all her strength, Rae pushed again, and suddenly, unexpectedly, she was free.
Scrambling from the bed, she began to straighten her blouse and smooth down her skirt. "This was a mistake," she muttered in irritation. "Why didn't I know it would be a mistake? But I did. Of course I did. I knew it was a mistake, and I came out here anyway. Of all the stupid—"
She broke off when the lamp beside the bed flashed on, momentarily blinding her.
As her eyes adjusted, she kept her gaze carefully away from him and glanced around the room. Surprisingly, beneath the clutter his house was clean. It was an attractive room, with cream walls and smooth lines to the furniture. But something was missing. Tanner's personality was missing. There were no pictures on the walls. No bric-a-brac or plants. Not even a dusty old artificial flower arrangement. There were none of the little personal touches that made a house a home. The cabin's living space had a temporary feel to it, as though the occupant were simply marking time until he could move back to where he really belonged.
Drawing in a slow breath, she turned her attention to Tanner. He was standing to the right and slightly behind her. She couldn't see him, but she knew he was there. She sensed it, the way a deer could sense the presence of a mountain lion.
Biting her lip, she dipped her head and shot a cautious glance in his direction.
He wasn't naked. At least not completely. He wore the usual faded jeans, but tonight the top three metal buttons were unfastened so that they hung dangerously low on his hips. Moving her gaze away from that disturbing triangle of flesh, she raised her head and found him studying her face.
"Well, that was fun," he said, the words slow and lazy. "But something tells me you didn't come all the way out here to provide entertainment for a tired man. So what's up?"
She wasn't quite as good at ignoring his bare skin as she had hoped. "Do up your jeans," she said shortly, glancing away from the sight of him.
"Too tempting?" He laughed as he fastened the buttons. "There, is that better? I'm afraid this is as decent as I get. And I repeat, what's up?"
It was time. This was what she had come here for. All she had to do was ask. All she had to do was say the words. If she could just manage to get the first few words out of her mouth, the rest would surely follow.
But she couldn't.
By pulling up hidden reserves, Rae had found the courage to make the decision, and she had found the courage to come out here, but when it came to actually saying the words aloud, she simply couldn't.
Shaking her head, she turned and walked toward the door. "Never mind. I'm sorry I barged in on you." She pulled the door open without looking at him. "Just forget I was here."
In the next moment she found her arm caught in an iron grasp. "Oh no, you don't," he said, swinging her back around as he slammed the door shut with one foot. "You can't come out here, disrupting my peaceful evening, and then say never mind."
He leaned against the door and folded his arms on his chest. "Besides, you've got me curious now. For the past two years you've spent most of your time avoiding me. So why did you go out of your way to track me down tonight?"
Exhal
ing a slow, careful breath, she brushed a curl from her forehead and glanced away from him. "Promise you won't tease me?"
"No." There was open amusement in his voice. "Teasing you is one of the few pleasures I have in life. You walked into my territory, now you have to pay the price. Tell me why you're here."
Moistening her lips, she edged sideways to put some distance between them. "You know how it is, sometimes when you're alone, and tired .. . and maybe dissatisfied with your life, your mind goes off in strange directions."
Suddenly impatient with her own cowardice, she raised her chin and said, "Most of what you say to me I manage to ignore. Because most of what you say to me is stupid, and I know that needling me . . . amuses you. But there is one thing you said that I believe."
"Only one?" He raised a dark brow. "I must be slipping. I used to be a better liar than that."
"I believe that if anyone could teach me to be—" She broke off and cleared her throat again. "If anyone could teach me how to be hot, it's you."
Exhaling a slow breath, she raised her head and met his eyes. "Okay, now you can laugh."
But Tanner wasn't laughing. He wasn't even smiling. A frown etched deep creases between his dark brows as he stared at her.
A moment later he pushed away from the door and walked to a window near the bed. "You want me to—" He broke off and shook his head.
"In all fairness, you did make the offer," she reminded him stiffly. "It doesn't matter that you offered simply to annoy me. The fact is, if anyone can do it, you can." She moved her shoulders in a short shrug. "So that's why I'm here, to ask you if you'll teach me how to attract Drew's attention."
When he didn't respond, she slid damp palms over the sides of her skirt. "It should give you some satisfaction to know you were right about me. Except that what you call repression is really ignorance. I didn't have to learn how to grab a man's attention. I always had Johnny. From the time I was a little girl, I knew I was going to marry him. There was no need for teenage flirtations and things like that. I may be starting late, but I'm not stupid. I can learn . . . that is, if you'll agree to help me."
