Especially women.
Sheryl hadn’t cooked for a man in two years, and she wanted everything to be perfect. The food, the setting, the conversation.
Of course, Donovan wasn’t much of a conversationalist, unless that was a talent he’d been hiding from her.
She didn’t set the rarely used dining room table, but laid out plates and fresh-cut flowers at the round oak table in the kitchen. Dinner would be cozy, friendly but not necessarily romantic. Warm and sociable but not fancy.
She didn’t want Donovan to think she was being forward. Cooking for him was just an amiable gesture. That was all. He was a nice guy, and he was having a bit of trouble, and she was doing what she could to help. She would have wanted to help even if he didn’t have those dark, gypsy eyes. Even if he wasn’t an extremely fine specimen of manhood. Even if he didn’t make her knees weak when he kissed her.
Yeah, right.
In the back of her mind, she figured part of her attraction to Hawk stemmed from the fact that he was safe. Since he wasn’t going to stay in Wyatt, he couldn’t become a permanent problem. He wouldn’t be here long enough to make demands she couldn’t agree to, or to get annoyingly proprietary, or to overwhelm her with expectations she could never live up to. More important, he wouldn’t be here long enough for her to fall in love with him. But if there was an attraction on both sides and if they wanted to act on that attraction, what would be the harm?
She left the garlic powder off the bread, just in case.
There hadn’t been a man of any kind in her life since Michael. It had been safer that way. Easier. There was less turmoil in her life simply because there was no man in it. Donovan made her realize what she’d been missing. Her heart had been safe, man free, but her days had also become routine and even boring. She was twenty-six years old, much too young to be satisfied with boring.
When dinner was almost ready, Sheryl moved to the foot of the ladder and shouted, “Five minutes!” Then she washed her hands and her face in the bathroom. After studying her face in the mirror for a moment she let her hair down and combed her fingers through the silky strands. She wasn’t going to win any beauty contests, but she did have nice hair and she might as well show it off. That done, she returned to the kitchen to take the bread out of the oven. If there was a knot of excitement in her stomach, it was because she hadn’t dated in years and now there was a man headed to her kitchen for supper. A man who’d kissed her.
A man who was going to leave as soon as he had what he’d come here for.
She felt as much as heard Donovan enter the kitchen. “Any luck?” she asked as she put the hot garlicless bread on a serving plate.
“Not really. I did add a couple of papers to the interesting stack, but for the most part it’s like reading another language and trying to find something that makes sense.”
He sounded tired. No…more weary than tired, she decided. This task he had set for himself was an important one.
When she turned around she half expected to see all the animals, his and hers, lined up around Donovan like a devoted entourage. Surprisingly, he was alone.
“Where is everyone?” she asked.
He looked almost sheepish. “They’re guarding the boxes in the attic.”
She smiled. “You put the animals on guard duty?”
“They volunteered.”
Which meant they were probably all asleep, and that meant they’d be awake and kicking before dawn. “Let’s eat,” she said as she placed the bread on the table. “And when we’re finished I’ll help you.”
“You can’t—”
“Don’t argue with me, Donovan,” she said as she took her seat. “I might not know what you’re looking for, but I can help you get organized. Another pair of eyes might see something you missed.”
He didn’t sit until she was settled in her chair. “You don’t have to do that. I’m sure you have more important things to do.”
“Yeah,” she said. “But not tonight.”
Sheryl was obviously surprised to find that he’d been telling the truth. Three cats, three dogs and one surly parrot were guarding the files. He couldn’t explain to her that they knew something here was important to him, and keeping the boxes safe was their way of doing him a favor.
He didn’t think she’d be able to help, but Sheryl took the stack of papers he’d set aside as potentially important and sorted them with paper clips. By names, by dates, she tried to make sense of the mess. When the time came to make something of what he’d found, it might be helpful.
If nothing else, she looked good sitting on the attic floor with her legs tucked beneath her, and her occasional attempts at conversation kept him alert. She’d swapped her usual professional and baggy clothing for something more casual. A pair of flannel pants and a snug-fitting T-shirt that showed off the nice muscles in her arms and her back. More than that, it molded to her breasts. Sheryl had small, firm breasts that would be just the right size to fill his hand. And either it was cold up here or she was turned on by sorting through old files.
Her nipples pressed against the cotton that hugged her torso. Dammit, he could not think about nipples at this stage of the game.
Sheryl Eldanis was sexier than he’d imagined she could be. Prettier than he’d thought her to be when he’d first seen her.
But more than that, she was a distraction. It was impossible to keep his mind on the task at hand when she was so close. She was more than nice to look at, and she smelled good, and if it didn’t make him look like a complete fool he would be content to just sit here and watch her. He had no time for distractions, though, and neither did Cassie.
Every minute wasted might be important to his sister.
When Sheryl yawned for the third time, Hawk pushed aside the box he’d been searching in and turned his full attention to her. “You don’t have to stay up with me. Go on to bed. I won’t sleep here all night again, but I can’t quit just yet.”
“I want to help,” she said sincerely.
“You’re tired and you have work tomorrow morning.”
“I don’t mind.”
No, she didn’t mind. And that was the problem. Sheryl looked so good sitting there. So bright and pretty. So full of hope. And beyond the body that seemed to call out to him, there was something fetching in her blue eyes, something that invited him to be a part of her life. To share that happiness with her. To kiss her again.
He didn’t have time for any of that, no matter how good the unspoken invitation felt.
“You’ve obviously got some wrong ideas about me,” he said hoarsely. “I didn’t come here looking for a friend. I appreciate all your help, I really do, and I’ve tried to be civil about this, but…”
“But I’m getting in your way,” she finished for him, her happiness and that unspoken invitation quickly and completely gone.
“Yeah.”
Sheryl stood and brushed off her flannel pants, sending particles of dust flying. “Sorry to be so much trouble,” she said sharply.
The animals all reacted as they picked up on her anger. Baby’s tail twitched, the Chihuahua growled deep in his throat, the ugly mutt shivered. The cats were less obvious, but all feline eyes turned to Sheryl. Bruce chirped happily, “Holy crap!”
Sheryl ignored them all. Her eyes were on him. “If I’m just getting in your way, then why did you kiss me?”
If he told her he’d kissed her because he hadn’t been able to stop himself, that wouldn’t help matters at all. If he told her she’d drawn him to her like honey draws bees, she might take it the wrong way. So he told her what he had to, in order to get her out of the attic so he could concentrate on the job at hand. “It was just a kiss. Didn’t mean anything.”
Before she turned away from him she looked stunned, as if he’d slapped her. “Now I remember why I gave up on men two years ago,” she muttered as she hurried down the steps. It was a comment not meant for his ears, he knew, but he couldn’t help hearing. He heard one more angry word
as she moved away from the attic. “Civil.”
Hawk sent the animals after her, and they went. Reluctantly. All but Bruce, who remained perched on the old rocking chair. When everyone else was gone, the bird squawked, “What a loser!”
Smart bird.
Just a kiss. Didn’t mean anything. Sheryl was tempted, so tempted, to climb up the attic stairs and tell Hawk Donovan to get out of her house and stay out.
But she didn’t. She’d made more of the kiss than she should have, and that was her own fault. Donovan had been honest, in that annoyingly direct way of his, in telling her that she meant nothing to him.
A lesser man probably would have slept with her just to make sure he continued to have access to those files that were obviously so important to him. A lesser man would’ve taken advantage of her temporary insanity.
In a perverse way, she wished Donovan were a lesser man.
She got ready for bed. The process always took a while, since it included playing ball with Bogie and scratching Howie’s stomach. The animals all needed a moment of individual attention, something to assure them that they were important to her, that they were loved, that this house wouldn’t be the same without them.
Was that why she wanted Donovan, when she’d been perfectly happy without a man for two years? Did she need a man to make her feel important and loved and necessary?
She would not be one of those women who relied on a man for their feeling of self-worth. Maybe she wanted Donovan in a purely sexual way, but she certainly didn’t need him. She didn’t need anyone.
It wasn’t him, she told herself. Two years was too long for a healthy woman to go without sex. If Donovan hadn’t come along, she probably would’ve gotten the hots for Chief Nichols, or the cute guy at the antique store, or Mark Singer, who had all those dogs. She tried to imagine any one of them kissing her, and no matter how she tried she felt nothing even resembling desire.
Men were simply not worth this kind of trouble. What she really needed was a vibrator and a lifetime supply of batteries.
The animals wouldn’t rest well if she closed her bedroom door, so she left it open just enough to allow them to move in and out.
Donovan didn’t make a sound. He was completely quiet in the attic as he pored over his papers. Sheryl didn’t worry much about him bothering her during the night. He wasn’t interested in her, only in the moldy papers in her attic.
The way he’d kissed her had convinced Sheryl that he was interested in her, but apparently her imagination had been working overtime.
As she threw herself into bed and pulled the covers to her chin, she whispered, “Get a life, Sheryl.”
Bogie and Howie hunkered down in the doggie bed by her dresser, and the cats found their own places here and there. They loved to sleep in the bed with her, and sometimes she let them. But not tonight. Baby left the room, headed no doubt for Donovan’s side.
Soft light from the hallway illuminated the room. She hadn’t had a lot of money for decorating when she’d bought this house, but she had splurged on the bedroom. It didn’t make sense to spend a lot of money on a comforter the dogs and cats would lie on, or to buy furniture the cats would use as scratching posts, but a woman needed a pretty place to come to at the end of the day, a serene place to dream. So she’d bought a solid oak bedroom suite, a silky blue comforter, pretty pictures for the wall and nice lamps for the tables. She even had a couple of silk flower arrangements, and fine lace curtains for the windows. Candles that had never been lit had been placed here and there, on the table by the bed and on the long dresser.
One by one, the animals fell asleep. They made their own noises in the night. Purrs, the sounds of evenly expelled breaths, the occasional whimper from a dream. The noises didn’t disturb Sheryl; they actually soothed her. This was her home. The animals were her family.
She didn’t need anything else.
Chapter 6
Spending the better part of two days going through boxes of papers that meant nothing to him only frustrated Hawk. Nothing he’d found would help Cassie, nothing pointed toward even the tiniest bit of information about their birth mother. He was wasting his time here.
The situation with Sheryl only added to his frustration. In another time and another place, maybe things would be different. He liked her; she liked him. But he’d never see Sheryl in another time or another place. This was it. He was here to find what he could and then hurry home, and she had a life here. A good life.
If he thought they could have a little fun and then say goodbye without regrets, he’d be tempted to take what he could get. They were both single, healthy and interested. But Sheryl wasn’t the kind of woman who’d have a casual fling. And casual was all he had to give.
Besides, if she knew the depths of what he could do…she wouldn’t want to have anything to do with him. It was best this way. He could be a jerk, and she’d be glad to be rid of him when the time came.
He’d fallen asleep on the attic floor again, and awakened to Baby’s own special alarm—a friendly tongue on the cheek and a nudge of her paw—just before Sheryl had stuck her head in the attic and told him to get out. There was no coffee this morning and no smile. Just as well, but…dammit, he missed them. He missed the coffee and the smile, and the hint of something more he couldn’t explain away.
Hawk left the house a few minutes after Sheryl, headed for the hotel. He carried a few of the files with him. Maybe after a nap he could lay the papers out on the table by the bed in his hotel room and see something he’d missed the first time.
“Good morning!” The bright voice caught him by surprise, and he turned to face the smiling woman who cut across the lawn, heading unerringly in his direction.
Hawk’s first thought was of escape. But he recognized right away that it was too late.
“Hi!” In one sweep she took in the rough beard, the wrinkled clothes, the hair that hadn’t seen a comb other than his fingers for days. “I’m Debbie Willis. I live next door. Are you…a friend of Sheryl’s?”
There was so much emphasis on that word. Friend. “Yeah.”
“Are you Michael, by any chance?” Something in her eyes flickered.
“No.” Who the hell was Michael? “Hawk Donovan.”
The woman, a slim brunette who stood just a few inches shorter than Hawk, breathed a sigh of obvious relief. “Thank goodness. When I saw your truck out here all night again, I just assumed…well, I have a tendency to assume the worst, you know? And Sheryl is such a sweet girl, she deserves so much better than that.”
Hawk was tempted to toss the woman a quick goodbye and get to his truck. But he didn’t. Sheryl deserved so much better than what? Or was it who? “Who’s Michael?”
The brunette pursed her lips for a moment, then said, “Okay, obviously I’ve said more than I should, but I don’t guess I can leave you hanging. Basically, Michael was an old boyfriend, and things didn’t end well. That’s really all I can say.” She pursed her lips again, but that didn’t last long. “Sorry. I just… The guy was a real jerk, a stalker, to be honest, and the whole experience really spooked Sheryl, as you can imagine. That’s why I was so glad to see your truck, and you hanging around. Sheryl has been very reluctant where men are concerned. No, reluctant is not the word. A stone wall is more like it. So I was thrilled that she’d met someone who, you know, changed her mind about completely writing off the opposite sex. But then I started worrying—what if Michael came back? What if he’s… Well, you know.”
Hawk didn’t know, but he could imagine.
“I’m so glad you’re not Michael!” Debbie said, smiling widely. “Well, relieved, I guess. I’m very much relieved. Oh, you two have to go to the dance Friday night!” She reached out and patted his arm as if they were old friends.
“Dance?” He didn’t mean to sound horrified, but…
“It’s the kickoff of the festival. Food. Music. Dancing.” Debbie used her hands as she spoke, gesturing this way and that with great animation. “The food’s g
reat. The music is so-so. The dancing is amateurish. But we have fun, I promise, and it would be a great time for you to meet everyone.”
“I, uh, don’t know if I’ll be here that long.”
“Don’t be silly. It’s tomorrow night!”
“Yeah, but…”
Debbie waggled her eyebrows. “Oh, I bet Sheryl can convince you to stick around at least one more day. And it would be so good for her to get out and about. She keeps too much to home, just her and her animals. I mean, animals are great and all, but even a veterinarian needs to be around people now and then.” She laughed at her joke—which was not so much of a joke as she seemed to think it was.
“We’ll see.” Hawk backed away, glad to finally make his escape. He was very aware that Sheryl’s curious next-door neighbor watched until he was out of sight.
Sheryl answered the phone with a gruffer than usual “Eldanis Veterinary Clinic.”
There was a moment of silence on the other end, and she almost hung up. It had been a long day, and the last thing she wanted to do was deal with telemarketers. But a soft voice soon said, “Dr. Sheryl Eldanis?”
“Yes.”
“You’re a…veterinarian?”
Sheryl sighed and closed her eyes. After the disaster with Donovan, she was dangerously close to hurting someone. Anyone. “Yes, I am.”
The caller quickly got over her surprise. “Good afternoon. I’m Dr. Faith Winston. It’s come to my attention that you own a building that was once occupied by a fertility clinic run by Dr. Agnes Payne and Dr. Oliver Grimble. Is that correct?”
A shiver ran down Sheryl’s spine. Another one? After all this time, there were three people looking for those files. Carpenter, Donovan and now this Winston woman. Why? “There was a fertility clinic located here,” Sheryl said cautiously. “But that was years ago.”
A Touch of the Beast Page 7
