by Carsen Taite
Ainsley couldn’t see her eyes, but the rest of Tray’s body language told her what she needed to know. She was certain Tray hadn’t been wearing sunglasses when she’d admired the sun-drenched mountain vistas out the window of the plane. Even though she knew Tray was lying, she decided to play the perfect host. She walked over to the tall vertical blinds and pulled them shut, reducing the light to one small bedside lamp. “Better?”
Tray fingered the frames again, but didn’t remove the shades. “Um, yeah. Much better. Thanks.”
“I’ll order us some lunch.” With a pointed look at Tray’s lip, Ainsley continued, “Would soup be okay?”
“Actually, I’m not hungry.” Tray’s eyes sought the door. “I should probably get going.”
Ainsley resisted the urge to point out lunch had been Tray’s idea. It was obvious she would rather be anyplace but there. Ainsley didn’t make a habit of chasing women. Normally she would have gladly led the unwilling Tray to the door. But something about this particular prospect pushed her to try harder. Ainsley considered her options. Tray wasn’t going to stick around for a meal. What would keep her present and interested? A recent memory surfaced and Ainsley smiled at the quick and sure answer to her dilemma. Careful to avoid Tray’s swollen lower lip, she leaned in, placed her hand on the back of Tray’s neck, and pulled her in to a soft, warm kiss. A slow, delicious burn coursed down her spine, and she leaned into the flame.
“Ainsley?”
Ainsley jerked her head up at the sound of Paul’s voice. Random, urgent thoughts collided in her head: What was he doing here? How in the hell was she going to get the skittish Tray to stick around now? Was she ever going to be able to savor a kiss with her? She grabbed Tray’s hand and ignored the wild look in her eyes as she pulled her toward the door.
“Hi, Paul, we’re going to dash out and grab a bite to eat. I’ll meet you back at the hotel?”
Paul looked at them with a puzzled expression before plunging right into business. “Sorry to burst in, but I have those numbers you wanted.”
Ainsley held up her free hand. “Thanks, Paul. I’ll be back in about an hour. How about we go over them then?” The inflection she added to the last statement was fake. She was out the door before Paul had a chance to respond.
“Who was he?” Tray’s tone carried more than a hint of accusation. Ainsley jabbed at the elevator button as if repeated thrusts could communicate her haste. All she wanted to do was get away from Paul before he asked more questions about her out-of-character actions today. With all her concentration on the immovable elevator doors, it took a hard tug from Tray to make Ainsley realize Paul wasn’t the only one with questions.
“He’s a coworker.”
“Who shares your room? Must make for a fun workplace.”
Ainsley was startled at the hint of jealousy. Did Tray really think she would share a room with a man? Ainsley assumed everyone could tell Paul was gay. “He doesn’t share my room. There are several of us in the hotel and since my room’s a suite, we use it as our work space.” The elevator doors finally opened, and she tugged Tray inside. “I haven’t had time to get the lay of the land. Where should we go for lunch?”
“I need to get going.” Tray’s tone was clipped and Ainsley was equal parts pissed and disappointed.
“Hot date?”
Tray shrugged, but didn’t say a word.
Ainsley pushed the infernally unresponsive elevator buttons in an attempt to try to accomplish something, anything. “I have a lot to do. I’ll walk you out.” Ainsley crossed her arms over her chest and took a step away from Tray. She realized the strong attraction she felt was completely one-sided. She was done doing all the pursuing. Damn, what a waste.
“Look, I know I’m coming off like a jerk, but I’m stuck here in town without a ride and I need to focus on getting back home.”
Ainsley studied her. Business Ainsley would normally launch into a series of questions designed to formulate a plan of action, but she sensed Tray sharing this one piece of information didn’t signal the opening of the floodgates of information. When the elevator doors opened, Ainsley grabbed Tray’s arm and led her through the lobby. In the short time they had known each other, she’d already learned it was better to ask forgiveness than permission. Signaling to the valet, she requested her car.
“I’ll take you wherever you need to go.”
“I thought you had things to do.” Tray looked like she was about to make a run for it. Ainsley held tighter. She knew she should head back to the hotel to deal with whatever Paul had come to see her about as well as the growing list of issues they had uncovered during the morning. Drew Lancer would require a lot of supervision if Ainsley wanted to make sure things were done the right way, the Steel way. Yet, as she looked at Tray, she realized all she could think about was salvaging her “date.”
The valet was waiting with the car door open. Ainsley wasn’t about to beg, but she didn’t mind heavy urging. She flashed a sexy smile and used a husky tone. “Come with me. I’ll make it worth your while.” She figured if she could get to the safety of wherever Tray was staying, she might be able to make good on her promise.
Chapter Eight
Ainsely’s teasing hand on her thigh signaled plans for afternoon delight. Her touch was tantalizing, and if they weren’t well on their way to her aunt and uncle’s house, Greer would have found a way to indulge in the attraction.
As it was, Greer couldn’t believe she had gotten in the car with Ainsley a second time. She was no stranger to living on the edge, but she had to be more careful, or she was going to blow her cover. Even as she had silently vowed she would make Ainsley drop her at the Tesuque Market, she heard her voice betray her, giving turn-by-turn directions to the ranch. Blame it on the slow burn Ainsley had sparked. As they pulled into the driveway, she prayed Clayton and Ellen would be too preoccupied to come outside and check out the strange car.
No such luck. Ellen waved from the door the minute the car entered the driveway. Ainsley wasted no time getting out of the car and answering Ellen’s wave with a friendly one of her own. Greer made hasty introductions, explaining she had run into a friend she’d met on the flight from Chicago who had graciously volunteered to give her a ride back to the ranch. She offered a hurried thanks and good-bye to Ainsley, but Ellen’s hospitality was set on super speedy. Before Greer had completely exited the vehicle, Ellen had pulled Ainsley into a hug, and here they were sitting at the big kitchen table eating homemade apple pie and drinking iced tea. Greer wanted to crawl under the table.
“Ainsley. What a pretty name,” Ellen said, “what brings you to our corner of the world?”
“Work, mostly, but I can tell I’m going to have to take some time to see the sights.” She punctuated this remark with a squeeze to Greer’s thigh under the table. “I didn’t realize how much natural beauty this part of the world has to offer.” Ainsley’s observation caused Greer to choke on a bite of pie. Her aunt shot her a questioning look before posing her next question.
“Where are you staying?”
“At the El Dorado.”
“Ah, nice hotel, though a bit touristy.”
“It’s comfortable and close to where I’m working.”
“What sort of work do you do, dear?”
Greer cleared her throat loudly. She’d heard enough of the interrogation and wanted to end the conversation before Ellen started volunteering information, rather than merely mining for it. She broke in and addressed Ainsley. “Speaking of work, didn’t you say you needed to get back soon? I mean, I really appreciate the ride, but I don’t want you to be inconvenienced any more than you have been already.” This time it was Greer who did the steering. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.”
“Wait, dear, let me pack you some apple pie to take with you. Most of the hotels in town don’t have good homemade desserts.” Ellen cut a giant piece of pie and wrapped it carefully. “You should take some time to see some of the local sights while you’re here. Y
ou’ve come to town at a great time. Fiestas and Zozobra are this weekend.”
“The burning of Zozobra? Seems like I might have read something about it.”
“It’s a fall tradition. The burning of Old Man Gloom and all your troubles with it. If you’ve never seen it before, it’s spectacular.”
Greer chimed in. “Actually, it’s kind of spooky.”
“Then maybe I’ll make sure to go with someone who has gone before.” Ainsley grinned. “You know, to keep me from getting scared.”
Ellen poked her in the side and Greer stammered, “I suppose I could take you.”
“Perfect.”
Greer couldn’t tell if her stomach was rolling out of fear or excitement. Either way, she had made a date with Ainsley Faraday. She decided the buzzing in her belly was excitement. Mostly.
A few minutes later, Greer held open Ainsley’s car door.
“You don’t have to take me to Zozobra.”
“I want to.” Greer was surprised at the truth in her words.
“Good. I’d like to get to know you better.”
Greer didn’t know what to say in response. She flashed to Ainsley’s remark about Greer Davis and counted to ten to silence a sarcastic response. Ainsley wanted to spend a nice evening with Tray, and that’s what Greer would give her. The anticipation was exciting.
“Your aunt is very nice.”
“She’s wonderful.”
“You’re lucky.”
“I know.” Greer was struck by a thought. “I’ve never brought a girl home before. Well, at least not one I was…I mean…”
Ainsley saved her. “One you’ve kissed? One you want to kiss again?”
“Yes, that’s it.” Greer glanced back at the house. “May I kiss you now?”
“Oh, you’re asking first? That’s a change.” Ainsley leaned against the car, pulled Greer toward her, and whispered in her ear. “Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Kiss me.”
She did, and as her lips met Ainsley’s everything else faded away. Macy’s death, her near brush with a kidnapper, her cousin’s anger, her uncle’s illness, the fact she was standing just yards from the kitchen window where her aunt was most certainly watching this embrace. Nothing about her current circumstances could pull her attention from the hard strokes of Ainsley’s tongue, meeting her lips, tasting her, wanting her. She returned the passion with equal fervor.
*
Ainsley sped back toward Santa Fe, but she wasn’t anxious to return to work. Her blasé attitude about spending the afternoon reviewing hotel policies and procedures stood in sharp contrast to the reluctance she’d experienced the moment she pulled away from Tray’s side. The contradiction was unsettling. She was in New Mexico to showcase her talents on Frank’s pet project. Her goal was singular: promotion. Wooing a girlfriend didn’t figure into the equation.
Girlfriend? Tray wasn’t a girlfriend, not even close, but Ainsley couldn’t ignore the departure from her usual methods. On a dozen prior business trips, she’d taken her conquests to bed and moved on quickly. She’d had ample opportunity to get Tray naked. Hell, they’d been in her hotel room that very afternoon. Instead, she had yet to see Tray sans clothes, and now she was feeling giddy about a date three days hence. Ainsley didn’t understand her altered approach. Indeed, she didn’t even try. A part of her worried that closer examination might lead to more questions than answers.
*
Later in the evening, Greer found her aunt in the kitchen preparing dinner. Ellen looked up as Greer entered the kitchen and said, “Drew called and said to start without her, she’s going to be late. Oh, and I put some of Drew’s clothes in the closet in your room so you don’t have to keep asking to borrow things.”
“Thanks. Aunt Ellen, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”
“Sure, what is it?”
“Why didn’t you call to tell me Uncle Clayton was sick?”
Ellen sank into one of the kitchen chairs and motioned for Greer to join her. “Honey, I know we should’ve contacted you, but what would you have done?” Greer opened her mouth to reply, but Ellen shushed her. “You have such a busy schedule and so many demands on your time. You don’t need added stress.”
Greer shook her head. Ellen was partly right. She didn’t need more stress, but her uncle’s cancer was an exception. Her aunt’s kind intent was more shocking than soothing. Greer hadn’t realized the vast distance that had developed between her and her family. She didn’t know what to say, what to do to make amends. She settled for enveloping her aunt in a tight embrace. She held her close until Ellen said she had to check the roast in the oven.
As she watched Ellen put the finishing touches on dinner, Greer occupied herself with more pleasant thoughts, like her upcoming date with Ainsley.
“Hey, Aunt Ellen?”
“Yes, dear?”
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention Ainsley’s visit to Drew. She has a tendency to give me a hard time about…things.” Greer had a feeling Drew would give her a very hard time about making a date with a woman she’d just met.
“Of course, dear.” Ellen smiled. “It’ll be our little secret. Now, go tell Clayton we’re ready to eat.”
Eating again was the last thing Greer wanted to do. The pie from the afternoon had been sitting like a rock in her stomach while she pondered what in the world she was going to do with herself until the publicity storm blew over. A brief run through the cable channels revealed an endless fascination with where she might be and why she had dropped off the face of the earth. Rumors had spiraled out of control and ranged from Greer killing Macy in a jealous lover’s rage to speculation that overcome by grief, Greer had sustained amnesia and was wandering the country, lost. The more tame entertainment news speculated she was in rehab in an effort to avoid legal consequences.
Greer scoffed at the thought of rehab. She used coke on occasion, but she didn’t have a problem not using. She knew her limits and never would overdo it, like Macy had. She could use a little something to take the edge off now, but that was perfectly natural after all she had been through. It wasn’t likely she’d find any source of relief here, anyway. Rehab was for people who couldn’t cope with their lives spiraling out of control. Greer ignored the tickle of recognition her reflection provoked, and she knocked on the door of her uncle’s study.
“Come in.”
Clayton looked as weak as his voice sounded. Greer wondered if she would get used to the sight of her strong, virile uncle relegated to a chair, covered in blankets, with oxygen at the ready. She visualized him standing up, throwing off his covers, and giving her a mighty bear hug and lifting her off her feet in the process. The vision crumbled as she remembered Drew’s words: He’s terminal.
“Sit down.” Clayton pointed to the sofa across from his La-Z-Boy.
Greer hesitated. “Aunt Ellen asked me to tell you dinner’s ready.”
“Well, I suppose we’ll tell her it took me a minute to make my way down there.” He pointed again at the sofa. Greer sat. “How long do you plan to stay with us?”
Greer wasn’t sure what to say. First off, she hadn’t thought far enough into the future to imagine how and when the bad publicity would blow over. Until it did, she wouldn’t be able to emerge from hiding and slip back into her star-studded life. She hadn’t even considered she might not be welcome here at the ranch. Her aunt and uncle might not want a houseguest when they had so much else on their plates right now. Greer suddenly felt trapped by circumstance. She needed to get out of here and let her family deal with their issues on their own, without the added stress of a houseguest. She started to get up, but Clayton’s hand, surprisingly strong, held her in place.
“Greer, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”
She looked at the hand on her arm and then into the face of her strong, kind uncle. She knew he meant his words, but she also knew from the tone a “but” was on its way.
“No drugs and no press.
” He smiled as if to soften his words. “Your aunt is under a lot of pressure, and I don’t want her feeling like she has to make pie for dozens of reporters while they stake out the place hoping to get a picture of you.”
Greer sagged with relief. Until that very moment, she hadn’t realized how safe she felt at the ranch. The thought of being asked to leave had caused a momentary panic. “Only two people know I’m here, and one of them is Ethan.” She returned his grin. Ethan had spent time on the ranch, and Clayton obviously remembered their steadfast friendship. Not even waterboarding would convince him to divulge her whereabouts.
“I hope the other person is Rick. He called here this morning.”
Greer wasn’t surprised. She had told Rick where she was going because he would need to be able to get in touch with her, and she with him. She had left without taking care of some important details—like making sure she had cash to live on, since using her credit cards would be like having a GPS locator installed in her head. Her cell phone battery was long dead since she hadn’t thought to pack her charger. “Rick knows how important it is for me to stay out of the public eye for a while. He has my best interest at heart.”
Clayton merely nodded. Greer couldn’t quite make out the expression on his face. Greer had hired Rick Seavers as her manager despite Clayton’s advice about interviewing more than one candidate for the job. But Rick had discovered her, and Clayton didn’t understand how the music business worked. A savvy manager who was willing to give her a second glance before she had ever had a day in a studio was unheard of, and she would have been crazy to risk losing him. She had a whole team now, an agency, attorneys, but she didn’t have a clue what they did. She didn’t need to know as long as Rick wore his dual hats as her business and personal manager. He took care of all the details so she could focus on her music.
“What are you going to do with yourself while you’re here?”
“I haven’t thought about it. I suppose I could start reviewing tracks for the next album, but I’m too stressed right now to focus.” She paused. “Looks like I have a date Thursday night. I met her on the plane. Her name is Ainsley Faraday. She’s here on business—I’m not sure what. Anyway, I ran into her downtown today, and she drove me back here so I wouldn’t have to wait for Drew. We’re going to Zozobra Thursday night.” As soon as she finished delivering the rush of words, she realized her uncle would probably think she was insane for planning to go out to a public event, and he didn’t even know Ainsley had no idea who she really was. She wasn’t, however, the least bit prepared for his next words.
