by Jo Leigh
She stiffened at the thought. She wasn’t the same. She was different now, even if she didn’t look it at that particular moment.
Or feel it.
She shook away the last notion and scrambled for a plan. All she had to do was make a quick escape into her room, wiggle into the sexy dress and slap on some makeup. She would forget all about her momentary lapse into the old Deanie, and so would Rance.
She pulled back her shoulders, pasted on a smile and tried for the sexiest, and fastest walk she could manage in a pair of flip-flops.
The slap-slap of her shoes drew Rance’s attention and he turned. His gaze collided with hers as he pushed away from the wall.
“I know I’m late,” she said as she came up to him. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll meet you downstairs.” She grabbed the door handle and pushed her key card into the slot before pulling it back out. The green light on the lock refused to come on and the door remained locked. She tried the card again. Still no green light.
So much for a quick escape.
“What happened?” his deep voice sounded right behind her and she knew he was close. Too close. The hair on the back of her neck prickled and her hands trembled.
“I saw a naked man,” she told him as she fed the card into the slot a third time. Or at least she tried.
“A what?”
“A naked man. On the elevator.” What was it with the stupid key? “At least, I think it was a man.” She went for try number four. The door remained locked.
“What did he look like?”
“I don’t really know.”
“How big was he?”
She was not going there again. “I’m not sure. I didn’t get a really good look at him.” Come on key, she prayed. Work. Please work. “Just a, um, certain body part.”
“You were on the elevator with him and you didn’t see anything but his—”
“I was preoccupied,” she cut in, whipping the key free and jiggling the door handle.
“Slow down,” he murmured a split second before one hand slid around her waist. His other came up to cover hers as she tried to press the key card into the slot yet again. His lips brushed her ear and desire sizzled through her. “You have to slide it in nice and slow if you want a good connection.”
With his hard body pressed against hers and his scent surrounding her, scrambling her common sense, the only thing she could think of was him sliding into her. Nice and slow. Again and again.
“I…I’m doing it.”
“Not yet,” he said, his voice so raw and husky that she knew he was talking about more than just unlocking her door.
He guided her trembling fingers to the slot, eased the card inside and the green light lit.
“Thanks,” she murmured as the handle turned and the door opened.
“My pleasure.” His lips grazed her ear again and a shiver zigzagged down her spine. “So tell me,” he said, making no move to slide his arm free of her waist. “What were you so preoccupied with on the elevator?”
You.
She licked her lips and tried to ignore the warm pull of his body behind her and the press of his hot palm against her stomach. His touch seemed to burn through the thin cotton of her T-shirt…
Ohmigod, the T-shirt.
“Nothing important,” she blurted as reality zapped her and a wave of self-consciousness washed through her.
His arm tightened around her for a heart-stopping moment, as if he meant to question her further, but then his hand fell away and she found herself free.
Deanie gathered her scattered common sense and stepped into the room. “I’ll meet you down in the lobby.” She turned to close the door on him, but he’d already followed her in.
“I’ll wait here.” He walked toward the windows that spanned the length of one wall and overlooked the white sand beach. The setting sun bobbed on the horizon and cast an orange glow on the endless stretch of ocean. “You’ve got a perfect view.”
A perfectly romantic view for a couple deeply and desperately in love.
She ignored the burst of longing that went through her at the sudden thought. She didn’t love Rance. She didn’t want to love him. She just wanted one night with him—this night—to ease the sting of rejection she’d felt so long ago and satisfy the lust for him that still kept her up at night.
Turning toward the closet, she busied herself retrieving her outfit. She was about to race into the bathroom to get dressed when her cell phone rang.
She had half a mind not to answer it, but then she remembered Miss Margie’s message and she realized it might be the old woman.
She can leave a message.
She could, but then Deanie would have even more guilt to deal with. She felt bad enough that she’d left her customers to Harwin. She wouldn’t make things worse by not answering questions during a time of need.
Besides, she liked Miss Margie.
But if it was anyone else, she wasn’t picking up.
No way. No how.
She snatched up the cell phone and glanced at the caller ID display. Judy Louise Eldenheimer
Okay, so it wasn’t Miss Margie. But Deanie liked Miss Judy, too. The old woman had baked the best sugar cookies in town and she’d brought Deanie a baker’s dozen each and every time she’d had to bring her car into the shop. Since she’d driven an ancient Buick with a fading transmission, that had been at least once a month. Of course, she’d brought the cookies in lieu of payment, but Deanie hadn’t minded. She’d loved those sugar cookies. Even more, she’d loved the way Miss Judy had decorated the cookie box with lots of lace and pearls and frilly ribbon, as if Deanie weren’t just a mechanic but a woman who appreciated the prettier things in life. And so Deanie had gladly accepted the goodies and forfeited her labor charges. Parts had been a different matter, but she’d given them to Miss Judy at cost—without Big Daddy’s knowledge, of course—and saved the old woman who’d lived on a fixed income a small fortune.
Yep, she liked Miss Judy and so she couldn’t help the rush of worry that went through her when she saw the old woman’s name.
She pressed the on button. “Miss Judy? What’s wrong?”
RANCE SANK into a nearby chair and watched Deanie’s expression go from worried to relieved.
“That’s nothing to worry over. Tell Harwin to change the transmission fluid—” Her words scrambled to a halt as her gaze collided with Rance’s. “Excuse me a second, Miss Judy.” She covered the mouthpiece. “This is sort of private,” she told Rance as she gathered up her dress and shoes and the phone. “I’ll just be a few minutes.” She fled into the bathroom.
Rance had half a mind to follow her in. Not to hear her conversation, but to persuade her to answer his question about what she’d been preoccupied with on the elevator. Had she been thinking about him? About her near orgasm by the pool? He had a hunch she had, but he wanted to hear the words.
He needed to hear them.
But following her would put her close again and he wasn’t in any hurry to test his already shaky control. It was all about seducing her at this point, not pressing her up against the bathroom wall and driving his penis deep inside her hot little body. He knew she wouldn’t resist him—the chemistry between them was too intense—but he didn’t just want her compliance. He wanted…her. All of her. Willing and eager and excited.
The way she’d been that night.
Rance gathered his control, reached for the remote control and flipped through the television channels. He’d just settled on a bull riding competition being broadcast live from Las Vegas when Deanie finally emerged from the bathroom.
“Ready,” she breathed, drawing his full attention.
She wore the sundress he’d seen her purchase in the boutique, a pair of high heels that arched her back. Her legs seemed longer, an endless stretch of pale, smooth skin that started at midthigh where her dress ended. Her breasts looked full and rounded beneath the strappy top. Her hair hung loose and flowing. Pink lip gloss slicked her full lips.
It was all he could do not to cross the room to her and see if she tasted even half as good as she looked.
She would taste even better. He knew that from the storage closet at the airport and he also knew that once he started kissing her again, he wasn’t going to be able to stop.
Which was why Rance intended to let her initiate the next kiss between them. He could do any and everything, from running his hands through her silky hair, to licking every inch of her body. That was just sex. But kissing? That went much deeper and so he wouldn’t do it again.
Willing and eager and excited.
“What was so private about a transmission?” he asked as she moved to retrieve her purse.
Her mouth drew into a tight line. “You eavesdropped?”
“You mentioned the transmission before you ran into the bathroom. What’s with all the secrecy?”
“I just wanted to give Miss Judy my full attention.”
“I wouldn’t have bothered you.”
“The air conditioner’s a little noisy.”
“It’s barely humming.”
She turned on him. “Look, it’s my business, okay?” She shook her head. “I mean, it used to be my business. It’s not anymore, but Miss Judy had a few questions and so I answered them. Her transmission has a slow leak that I’ve been patching for the past year. Nothing that requires a new one at this point. But the mechanics at Big Daddy’s are trying to tell her that’s her only recourse.”
“You must be a really good mechanic.”
It was as if his words reminded her of something and she shook her head. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to hear shop talk.”
“Why the career change? Why not just quit Big Daddy and go to work over at Merle’s?” Merle was Big Daddy’s only competition and Rance knew from her reputation under the hood that Merle would have given her a job in a heartbeat.
“Can you see me do that dressed like this?” Deanie shook her head. “I’m tired of being a mechanic, that’s all.”
“Is it?” His question made her pause. Her gaze caught his and he saw her anguish. She nibbled her bottom lip as if she couldn’t decide what to say. Or how much to say.
“I’m a woman,” she finally murmured. “But nobody treats me like one. Sure, I’ve had the occasional boyfriend, but it’s never been anything serious. I want serious.” Desperation and a fierce sense of longing filled her eyes. “I’m tired of sitting home alone on Friday nights. I want to share my life with someone. I want them to bring me roses and remember my birthday.” She blinked, her eyes suddenly bright and Rance’s chest tightened. “I know that sounds crazy. I mean, the closest I’ve come to a dozen roses was the time I mowed over Mrs. Willaby’s prize-winning bush that summer I was helping my brother, Cory, cut yards for extra money.” She shook her head. “I was always one of the boys. But I’m not now. I’m a woman and I want to feel like one.” The moment the words were out, she clamped her mouth shut for a long moment, as if she regretted saying anything. “That sounds crazy, huh?”
He pushed to his feet and stepped toward her while she eyed him. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” she finally asked. “What are you thinking?”
“That it’s Friday night.”
Realization seemed to dawn in her eyes and a grin played at her mouth. “It is Friday, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “And you’re not sitting home alone.” He took her hand in his. “Not this time.”
Not ever, a voice whispered.
Because Rance had the gut feeling that Deanie Codge just might be the one thing missing from his life.
9
“THIS PLACE IS BEAUTIFUL,” Deanie said as she and Rance approached the entrance to The Falls.
“You haven’t seen anything yet.” Rance barely resisted the urge to capture her slick, pouty lips in a kiss that would surely have them skipping dinner and going straight to the dessert. “Erica sent us,” Rance told the hostess, and recognition dawned.
“You’re Rance McGraw.”
He winked. “That’s me.”
“Just a second, Mr. McGraw.” She picked up the microphone and pressed the on button. “Erica, please report to the hostess stand.”
A few moments later, the bellhop appeared and gave Rance an it’s-all-good grin. “Right this way Mr. McGraw. We have your table waiting.” She grabbed two menus off the top of the stack and motioned for them to follow.
Rance cupped Deanie’s elbow to steady her as she navigated the path in her man-killer shoes. The heat from her body seeped into his fingertips and stirred his hunger even more, and the muscles in his arms bunched and tightened. His groin throbbed.
He was this close to losing it, but the tremble of her body as she took each step reminded him that he had to take things slow. She wasn’t nearly the sex goddess she appeared to be, and while Rance meant to seduce her to the point of no return, he had no intention of scaring her off before he could do it.
Breathe, he told himself. Just hold up and breathe.
The trouble with that bit of advice was that every draft of air he drank in smelled of sweet vanilla and honey and her.
For a split second, the past pulled him back and he remembered the first time he’d really noticed the scent. Deanie had been in the eighth grade and he’d been a junior at Romeo High.
They’d gone to different schools, but they’d still ridden the same bus the long distance home every day. He’d taken to sitting with Sandra Whatshername who’d been the head cheerleader back then and queen of the daring divas—the pretty, popular girls who’d had a thing for sexy clothes, lots of makeup and big hair. It was common knowledge that they’d gone through cans of Aqua Net faster than Mr. Gantry, the local pharmacist, could keep it in stock. In fact, rumor had it that the divas alone were responsible for the beachfront retirement condo he’d purchased down in Fort Lauderdale a few years back.
Deanie had been younger and as far from a daring diva as a girl could get. He’d realized that the day Sandra had been sick and he’d ended up sitting next to Deanie on the bus—she’d saved him a seat as usual.
It had been early September and hotter than Hell on a Saturday night. The bus window had stuck and so he’d reached around Deanie—who’d been sitting next to the window—to help her slide the glass down. Her hair had brushed his jaw—brushed, not scratched—and he’d inhaled the sweet scent of Miss Myrtle’s homemade honey shampoo. He’d drank in a few deep breaths and the aroma had stayed with him long after he’d climbed off the bus and walked the winding road to the ranch house.
His nostrils flared and the familiar scent filled his head again. For all the changes she’d made, she was obviously still using the homemade stuff that was still bottled and sold at the local pharmacy. His fingers itched to reach out now and feel the long strands spill through his fingers.
But as tempted as he was, he wanted more than just to be inside of Deanie’s sweet body. He wanted inside her head. Her heart.
Now wait a minute. Wait just a damned minute.
The lust eating him up from the inside out had nothing to do with her heart and everything to do with her hot little body accented by the revealing sundress. It wasn’t as if Rance wanted to fall in love and settle down. He had places to go and things to see. Christ, he wasn’t even sure he believed in the concept. Sure, he’d lusted after women. But love? He’d never loved any woman.
Except maybe this one.
The notion lingered in his head as he guided Deanie through a maze of tables situated here and there around the lush lagoon. Water plunged over a wall of rocks and fed the pool in a steady stream.
Deanie paused at the last table, as if she expected to be seated. But Erica motioned for them to keep following her, around a huge potted palm toward a door cut into the rocks just to the side of the waterfall. An Employees Only sign had been posted. The hostess glanced behind them as if to make sure that no one was looking, pulled a small key from her pocket and unlocked the large dead bolt that barred the entrance.
>
A few seconds later, she led them through a small tunnel lit by a single overhead bulb. The whooshing noise grew louder as they navigated the walkway that opened into a large, cavelike room directly behind the waterfall.
When Erica had told him this was the most romantic spot on the island, he’d been skeptical. Hell, it was a cave. Naturally, he’d envisioned dark and dank and loud.
He’d been wrong.
The waterfall created a shimmering curtain, accented by colored spotlights on the other side. It was thick enough that the restaurant patrons seemed little more than indistinguishable blurs. The only thing visible was the candlelight that glittered from the center of each table, a reminder of the world that existed just beyond the rushing veil of water. White linen draped the single table that had been set up in the center of the room. Elaborate settings of china and crystal sparkled in the dim light. The plates steamed with fresh vegetables and rice. A pair of matching steaks overflowed a platter surrounded by freshly cut mangoes and pineapples chunks. A bottle of wine chilled nearby in a silver ice bucket.
“The locals used to slip in and out of here on a pretty regular basis,” Erica told them. As loud as the waterfall seemed, she didn’t have to raise her voice. It echoed off the walls, making the noise seem little more than a steady murmur. “But then Mr. Castellano—he’s the owner of Escapades—found out. He had a door built over the opening and now he keeps the entrance padlocked.” She smiled and held up the key. “But my boyfriend’s sister dates the restaurant manager who’s in charge of changing the lightbulbs on the spotlights attached to the rocks. There’s no other way to do that except through here.”
“This is the only key that I know of, so no one should disturb you.” She handed Rance the piece of metal. “Just throw the dead bolt behind me and enjoy.”
“Thanks,” Rance told the young woman as he left Deanie staring openmouthed at the elaborate table and followed Erica back through the short tunnel.
“No problem, Mr. McGraw. I owe you.”
“For an autographed T-shirt?” He shook his head. “I’m the one who owes you. Everything looks great.” He moved to retrieve his wallet from his shorts, but she waved him away.
