“Would you like to celebrate your coming aboard over lunch?” Rothwell glanced at his calendar, skimming his index finger to the appropriate line. The next hour was clear. “I can be free in a few minutes if you can wait.”
Blair shook her head. “It’s a tempting offer, but I’m meeting someone.”
It was a lie, but from where she stood, a necessary one. She didn’t need anything complicating the situation. The line between her business and her personal life was a distinct one and she had an uneasy feeling that Rothwell wanted to erase it.
Just as Quartermain had.
As it was, she was having enough trouble keeping her head straight, what with Quartermain popping up in her life with a fair amount of regularity. He had been dropping by her home every day, sometimes three or four times, to ask “just one more question.”
And when he wasn’t popping up physically, he was doing so in spirit, slipping into her room at night when she was trying to fall asleep, hovering over her shoulder as she tried to work.
Haunting her mind.
Ever since he’d kissed her, almost two weeks ago, it was as if her mind wasn’t free anymore. He seemed to be tangled up in all her thoughts.
Worse, she knew she was actually waiting, anticipating the next time. When he would kiss her again.
“I do appreciate the offer,” she told Roth well amiably. “But it isn’t even official yet.” There was always the outside chance that Rothwell was wrong and Mrs. Baylor would reject her creations.
“A technicality, I assure you. The necklace and earrings are just what she is looking for.” If his smile was slightly patronizing, she was sure he didn’t mean it to be. “I have a feeling they might even turn up at the Senator’s banquet next month.”
It was no secret that Mrs. Baylor was well connected to the movers and shakers of the state, tracing her lineage back to before California had even been part of the Union. If Amelia Baylor liked Blair’s work enough to wear it to a function, there was no telling where that could eventually lead. But Blair couldn’t begin to think about that.
“I dare say you might soon be inundated with more offers than you’ll know what to do with. I’d give expansion serious thought, if I were you.”
“I will,” she promised for the sake of terminating the discussion. She gathered up her attaché case and her purse, ready to take her leave.
Rothwell didn’t bother masking his disappointment. “And perhaps we’ll have lunch another time?”
“Yes, of course,” Blair agreed with more enthusiasm than she felt.
“I’ll have your check cut for you before the end of the day.” Rothwell accompanied her to his door. “Well, congratulations again, and thank you. It would have been my neck if you hadn’t worked out. But then, I had a feeling that you would.” Clasping her hand between his own, he shook it heartily, signaling a beginning rather than a leave—taking. “We’ll be in touch. Perhaps even before you get back from your meeting.”
“My meeting?” she repeated, puzzled.
“Your previous engagement,” he prompted. “The one you’re having instead of lunch.”
“Oh.” Her mind really was muddled these days. But then, she wasn’t accustomed to lying. It didn’t come as easily to her as it seemed to to the others, she thought with what by now a familiar touch of bitterness. “I don’t call them meetings,” she explained, recovering.
“Of course.” He accepted her explanation without question. “I’ll see you again soon.”
“I’m counting on it.”
Blair eased out of Rothwell’s office, passing by Peters’s empty desk. She made her way to the elevator on feet that weren’t quite touching the wine—colored rug that ran the length of the corridor.
She’d done it. She’d broken the ice leading into the big leagues!
Mrs. Baylor’s approval—not yet a done deal, but with any luck it would be within minutes—could mean the proper launching of her career into the world of the fabulously rich and elite.
Her mind resounded with a silent cheer.
By the time she reached the ground floor and walked out into the general merchandise area with its less than general price tags, excitement was roaring through Blair’s veins like a fifty—piece marching band. She could have hugged herself.
Humming, she passed through the front entrance onto the street. If she’d known the words to the tune running through her head, she would have sung.
“Damn, and me without my sunglasses.”
She swung around at the sound of the voice, her heart immediately hitching in her throat and hanging there, suspended, refusing to go either up or down. Devin Quartermain was standing right behind her.
Where had he come from? And how long had he been there?
Her mouth had formed a perfect, round little “o.” Perfect, like the rest of her, Devin thought.
The inclination to fit his mouth around that perfect circle hit him, fast and without warning, then played upon his senses. Devin banked them down. This wasn’t the time, nor the place.
Devin grinned at the obvious confusion in her eyes. “You’re positively radiating. I had another question,” he added, explaining his presence.
Happiness found its own level within her and settled down. For the most part. There still remained the little nervous jerking of her pulse to distract her. “How did you know I was here?”
His hand on her shoulder, he moved her away from the general path of the foot traffic. “I’m a detective, remember? I find things. People.”
He was being cute. It really wasn’t a stretch for him, she admitted silently. But she wasn’t paying him to be cute, she was paying him for results.
Blair arched an eyebrow. “So how is it that you haven’t found my sister yet?”
The hand remained on her shoulder. He was comfortable touching her. Liked touching her, even with barriers between them. Maybe it was even safer that way. At least, for him.
“Because at any given time, your trail is only a few hours old at best. Claire’s trail has years on that.” Right now, he was more interested in the present than the long ago. He wasn’t exaggerating when he’d said she was radiant. Ships in the night could find their way to port from the light in her eyes. “So tell me, why are you glowing like that?”
It wasn’t due to a man. He’d taken the trouble to find that out the day after she’d retained him. There had been no one in her life since she and someone named Adam Barnes had broken up last spring. As near as he could piece together, it was an engagement that had gone sour.
Devin couldn’t help but feel a little happy at that outcome.
“I am not glowing,” she protested.
The contradiction bore little weight. Even now, Blair was having difficulty keeping the smile she felt curling her toes from surfacing. After all, this was what she had been working toward all along. Acceptance, a good reputation and to top it off, a little stability in a field that offered no guarantees.
Devin rolled his eyes at the denial. “Oh, please, lady, not glowing? Three pale people who passed you are now sporting suntans.”
The ridiculous statement made her laugh out loud. The man brought new meaning to the word impossible.
The husky, silky sound wrapped itself around him, blotting out the noises of the city street Curling within his chest and tightening it.
“That’s nice,” he commented, his voice soft. “You should laugh more often.”
The laugh settled, as the somberness that had haunted her for more than two weeks began to nudge forward again. “I would, if there were more to laugh at.”
He could see it happening, the change in her, right before his eyes. “I’ll take you to the circus. It’s in town for a few more days.”
It was an absurd proposition, one that, even if she were so inclined, she didn’t have time for. But for a moment, for just a single moment, Blair was tempted to say yes. Temptation was swiftly becoming a very real part of her life, taking on a life of its own at the oddest mom
ents. Because of him.
That couldn’t be a good thing.
She shifted the now empty attaché case to her other hand. “Sorry, I have work to do.” She raised her eyes to his expectantly. “Don’t you?”
Yes, he did. More than his share. Evan had called him out of the blue, asking him to locate someone for him. Someone who had had an unexpected and sudden impact on his life. His hands full with Blair’s case, Devin still promised to do what he could and get back to him as soon as he had something to report. It wasn’t like Evan to ask for his help. Evan prided himself on being the responsible, capable one.
But he would work on Evan’s case in his spare time. Right now, he wanted to give Blair his full attention.
“You are part of my work,” Devin said easily.
So easily that it sent ripples through her and somehow curtained them off from everyone else who was walking or driving by.
The roof of her mouth tasted cottony. “Haven’t you learned everything about me you need to know?”
He shook his head and his eyes were serious as they held hers. “No, not nearly enough.”
Excitement reappeared, bringing with it a breathsnatching rush she was unprepared for. This time, the excitement she felt had nothing to do with Baylor’s jewelry counter, Mrs. Baylor and her connections, or her own pending career takeoff. This time, the excitement belonged to him.
Blair ran her tongue quickly along her bottom lip, trying to moisten it. She failed. “All right, then, why don’t you ask me that question?”
It was a familiar scenario, if not in familiar surroundings. His excuse for showing up unexpectedly was always that he had “just one more question” to ask. Or to give her a progress report on the meeting he’d had with one of the family. There would always be a message for her from whoever he’d spoken with. Sometimes it would be something as simple as just “hi.” She thought Devin was doing it to get her to give up her anger, but for the life of her, she didn’t know why.
At first, the man’s unannounced appearances had been a source of annoyance to her. He always seemed to pick the most inopportune times to ring her doorbell.
But she had to admit that gradually, annoyance began to give way to something that felt almost akin to pleasure. So much so that when she did answer the door and didn’t find him standing there, Blair experienced a sting of something that could only be likened to disappointment.
She explained the feeling away by saying that it was only because his frequent visits with their accompanying questions were bringing her that much closer to the day she would find her sister.
So now even she was lying to herself, Blair thought with a pang.
There seemed to be no end to the lies.
Her expression changed. It was like watching a cloud suddenly pass over the sun, blotting it out. The change was incredible.
Devin slid his finger along her cheek, catching her undivided attention. “Hey, what’s wrong? A moment ago you were calling the LAX control tower to check for clearance for takeoff. What grounded your plane so suddenly?”
She couldn’t ignore the tingle she felt when his finger slid along her flesh. And she couldn’t deny it either, even though she wanted to.
“You,” she answered.
There was no anger in her eyes, no annoyance whatsoever. Instead, Devin saw uneasiness bordering on fear.
Why was she afraid of him?
Did she think he’d come here to tell her something she didn’t want to know? Something that would further unsettle her life? Devin had thought that his manner would set her at ease but apparently it had the opposite effect.
“Why?”
But she shook her head. She didn’t want to tell him how he affected her because that would be giving him a piece of her she wasn’t prepared to surrender. Despite her reaction, she really didn’t know him at all. And she’d already been hurt and duped by people she had thought she did know. This would be stupidity above and beyond the call of duty.
“Never mind.”
She didn’t want to be prodded, and he let it go. Instead, he took her arm. “C’mon, let’s get a cup of coffee and I’ll ask you that question.”
“I’d rather have tea,” she heard herself saying as she fell into step beside him.
“Anything you want, Blair.”
It struck him, as they walked to the outdoor café he had noticed on the corner, that there might be more truth to those words than he had initially intended.
6
Devin’s coffee was an uninteresting shade of dark brown. He toyed with his cup, waiting until the waitress left again. Blair, he noted, seemed quite satisfied with her tea. Or maybe that was just residual euphoria spilling over.
He liked seeing her this way. It was, from what everyone in her family had told him, her natural state and it suited her far better than the sadness did. He’d learned a lot about her in the few days. A great deal from her family, but some through his own digging. Because she’d stirred his curiosity and he hated unanswered questions, especially his own.
Making himself comfortable in what was supposed to pass for a garden chair, he leaned back and studied her across the tiny three—legged outdoor table.
“You knocked them dead, didn’t you?”
He’d said he had something to ask her. This couldn’t be it. She set the cup down and stared at him. “Excuse me?”
“With the jewelry you were making for Baylor’s Department Store. That’s why you looked as if you were walking on air when you came out of their building.”
It was bad enough that he was invading her mind, but now Quartermain was getting a lot further into her life than she was comfortable with. Her cousin hadn’t told her that the man’s thoroughness went to these lengths. But then, she supposed she really hadn’t let Hal do much talking at all. She’d just taken Quartermain’s card and left. She wasn’t even sure if she’d bothered thanking him. It wasn’t like her.
Who exactly was the real her, anyway?
She sighed, shaking her head. “You seem to have done a lot of detecting into my life, Quartermain.”
He grinned when she used his last name. They’d compromised at that. At least she’d dropped the “Mr.” part.
“Just all part of the big picture.” It was an ambiguous statement that could be interpreted many ways. He left it hanging. “Did they ask you to make more for them?”
There was no reason to tell him anything, but because her unwitting discovery had caused the important ties in her life to rupture, she had no one else to share this with. And it felt far too delicious to keep to herself.
“Yes.”
She was sparkling again, he thought. “Congratulations. What do you intend to do to celebrate?” He could think of several ways offhand, the first of which involved a candlelight dinner and champagne.
He was the second person to mention celebrating to her in the last half hour. Conflicting feelings warred within her. Somehow, it didn’t seem right to celebrate, not when this was so close to her mother’s funeral.
But her mother would have wanted her to be happy.
Then why hadn’t she told her the truth?
Blair shrugged a little too casually to fool Devin, taking a sip of her tea. It was already getting cold. “I celebrate by working.”
The one time Paige had actually sold a painting outside the family, she’d thrown a huge party. It had lasted through the weekend. “Doesn’t sound very exciting to me.”
The smile on her face was serene as Blair thought of getting lost in her work. There was peace in that, as well as the excitement of the unknown.
A little, she realized, like kissing Quartermain had been.
Clearing her throat, if not her mind, she straightened. “It is to me. I love my work.”
He’d already guessed that about her. “I suppose that puts us among the fortunate ones.”
“‘Us’?” One eyebrow rose in a silent question. When had they become “us”?
One taste told him that the
coffee wasn’t worth troubling with. He moved the cup aside. “I love my work too. Putting together pieces of a puzzle, watching the picture change.”
“Speaking of which…” Blair trailed off, letting Quartermain fill in the logical conclusion to the sentence.
She was in a hurry to get rid of him, he thought. But he wasn’t in a hurry to go. He drew out the moment. Devin took his pad from his pocket, although he knew everything that was written down in it by heart. Holding the pad between his thumb and fingers, he used it strictly to emphasize what he was saying.
“Your mother was pretty good at keeping some things to herself. Nobody in either her family or your father’s seems to know anything beyond the fact that you were adopted and that it was done through private, and apparently legal channels.”
Her eyes narrowed. Where was he going with this? “Apparently?”
He’d schooled himself to be cautious in his wording. Otherwise, hopes could be unduly raised. And there was nothing worse than dashing them when things didn’t pan out.
“Well, there was a lawyer involved, that much everyone seems to be clear on. But no one remembers who he was or where he can be located, if at all.”
There was the very real possibility that after all this time, the man could be dead. No hearsay, no names. It was the same blank wall she had encountered. Somehow, she’d thought Quartermain would do better than that.
Blair blew out a breath, hovering on the rim of defeat and not wanting to acknowledge it. “So, that’s that?”
If he’d been interested in easy, he wouldn’t have become a detective. “No, I don’t give up that quickly. If the adoption was legal—” and he was prepared to believe that it was until something disproved it “—there has to be some sort of paper trail, however faint.” He paused a moment, letting his words sink in. “County records of your adoption—”
She jumped on that. “You haven’t looked that up yet?”
He could see a trace of annoyance in her eyes. But it was with herself and not him. He was beginning to be able to pick up the difference. Because it was so simple, so obvious, she hadn’t thought of going to the county records, either, and she was angry about that.
Desperately Seeking Twin... Page 7
