Pacific Heat

by Anne Mather

Joe arched a brow at Olivia, and she said, ‘A martini, please,’ as if she never drank anything else.

  ‘A club soda for me,’ said Joe, when the waiter turned to him, and Olivia couldn’t suppress a little gasp. ‘I’ve got work to do later,’ he explained, when the waiter had walked away.

  ‘Work?’ Although she’d been taken aback by his decision, Olivia refused to let it daunt her. After all, she didn’t want him to have the excuse that he’d been drunk. She cupped her chin in her hands and looked at him. ‘Isn’t it a little late to be making that excuse?’ She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘If you didn’t want to have a drink with me, you should have said so.’

  Joe’s eyes narrowed sardonically. ‘As I recall, the deal was that you should have a drink with me, providing I dished the dirt on Mrs T—Mrs Torrance, that is. Catherine Torrance. She’s the sexy private eye from Cat’s Crusade.’

  Sexy?

  Olivia swallowed the protest that rose automatically to her lips. ‘You mean this Catherine Torrance is the Cat in the title?’

  ‘And the role that Elizabeth Jennings plays.’

  Olivia shook her head. ‘And—you’ve seen it?’

  ‘A couple of times,’ he acknowledged. ‘It’s not bad.’

  ‘And—do you think I look anything like this Elizabeth Jennings?’ Olivia asked curiously, and then coloured at the look that crossed his face.

  ‘Maybe,’ he said, studying her unnervingly. ‘I’d have to know you better before I decide.’

  ‘I meant—in appearance,’ muttered Olivia, with some embarrassment, before realising he was only teasing her again.

  As luck would have it, the waiter returned with their drinks at that moment, and Olivia took an impulsive gulp of hers to give herself some Dutch courage. Unfortunately the gin in the martini was stronger than she’d expected, and the sharpness of it caught the back of her throat. She had to swallow several times to stop herself from coughing. Some seductress, she thought. Did she really think he’d be deceived by her attempts to appear experienced with men?

  ‘So, how are you and Diane getting on?’ he asked, after a moment, and she guessed he was only being polite. He must know perfectly well how she and Diane were faring. Unlike Richard, he hadn’t been in Las Vegas for the past ten days.

  ‘Pretty good,’ she replied casually, relieved to hear her voice sounded normal. She’d been half afraid she’d scraped her vocal chords raw. But she didn’t want to talk about Diane. That wasn’t her objective. ‘Um—I haven’t seen you around the hotel for—for a couple of weeks.’

  His lips twitched. ‘Since that morning you accused me of flirting with every woman I came into contact with?’ he asked softly. ‘Well, no. I went home to San Francisco when my business meetings were done.’

  ‘San Francisco!’ Olivia heard her voice rising and quickly controlled it. ‘Oh, yes. Didn’t—didn’t Diane say that that was where you lived?’

  ‘When I can,’ he conceded, swallowing a mouthful of his soda. The ice clinked in his glass, and she thought what a pleasant sound it was. But his voice was better. ‘In my business, I spend a lot of time travelling. But I’m learning to delegate if I want some time to myself.’

  ‘And do you?’ she asked, feeling on safer ground. She picked up her glass and cooled her palms around it. Then she tipped her head and looked up at him through her lashes. ‘Want some time to yourself, I mean?’

  ‘Doesn’t everyone?’ he asked, and although she was feeling more confident his words disturbed her. She had the feeling he knew exactly what she had in mind.

  ‘That depends,’ she said, tasting her drink with rather more caution. ‘Not everyone knows exactly what they want.’

  ‘Do you?’ he asked, relaxing back against the velvet upholstery, and when he stretched his legs she was made aware of how close his thigh was to hers.

  What would he do if she touched him? she wondered. If she put her hand on his knee, would he stop looking at her in that teasing way? But what would she do if he covered her hand with his, and moved closer to her? How far was she prepared to go to prove her point?

  A finger stroking lightly down her bare arm startled her. ‘I guess you don’t,’ he said huskily, and for a moment she didn’t have any idea what he meant. She’d been so intent on her thoughts, so bemused by the notion of getting close to him, that she’d lost the initiative. ‘Can I get you another of those?’ He indicated her drink. ‘I’m going to have another soda myself.’

  ‘Oh—’ Olivia was about to say no, and then changed her mind. ‘Why not?’ she murmured, burying her face in her glass. She needed more time for this to work, she told herself firmly. If she let him go now, she didn’t know when she’d see him again.

  ‘Diane said you and Ricky were still married when she met him,’ Joe remarked after the waiter had served them, and Olivia stared at him in surprise.

  ‘Yes, we were,’ she said, although she would have preferred not to talk about her ex-husband either. ‘Um—have you known Diane long?’

  ‘About two years,’ he conceded, propping his elbows on the table. He stirred the ice in his glass with one finger and then licked its tip. He was watching her all the time, and she thought how incredibly sexy his action had been. ‘How long has Ricky been drinking? Do you know?’

  ‘No.’ Now Olivia was defensive. ‘He didn’t drink when he was married to me. Well—only socially,’ she added, forced to be honest. ‘You should ask Diane that question. She should know.’

  Joe drew the corner of his lower lip between his teeth. He had nice teeth, she noticed, very white with just a trace of crookedness in the middle. ‘Do I take it you don’t like Diane?’ he queried.

  ‘I—neither like nor dislike her,’ protested Olivia, and she suddenly knew that was true. She sighed. ‘I admit I was doubtful about accepting this commission. But, in the event, I think we get on together fairly well.’

  ‘And Ricky?’

  ‘Richard,’ Olivia corrected him. And then, taking another gulp of her martini, she pulled a wry face. ‘I think Richard thinks I’m still in love with him. That’s why he believes I agreed to come out here.’

  ‘And is it?’

  ‘No.’ Olivia was feeling increasingly reckless. ‘I’m not in love with anyone right now.’

  ‘There’s no special man in England?’ Joe asked, meeting her eyes across the rim of his glass. ‘You know, I find that very hard to believe.’

  ‘No special man,’ Olivia insisted, without hesitation. ‘I’d like there to be, but all the men I’m attracted to are either married or involved with someone else.’ She licked her lips. ‘Like you,’ she ventured, wondering if she was drunk or just stupid. ‘I think I was wrong about you. You’re nice.’

  Joe regarded her from between his lashes. ‘You’ll regret saying that tomorrow,’ he murmured, stroking the back of her hand, which was lying on the table beside her glass. ‘And I’m not nice, Olivia,’ he added softly. ‘I’m quite nasty. For instance, I’m tempted to prove you don’t mean what you say.’

  Olivia blinked. ‘How do you know I don’t mean it?’ she demanded. She looked down at his hand caressing hers and felt the blood surging hotly though her veins. ‘And how could you prove it? I’m not an innocent, you know. I have been married.’

  ‘To Ricky,’ said Joe mockingly, and she pursed her lips.

  ‘Yes, to Richard,’ she agreed, wishing he wouldn’t keep talking about him. She blew out a breath to cool her cheeks. ‘He’s a man, isn’t he?’

  ‘Yes.’ Joe’s fingers touched her knuckles. ‘Do you know a lot about men?’

  ‘Not a lot.’ Olivia’s wasn’t drunk enough to lie about something like that. ‘Um—enough.’

  ‘From Ricky?’

  ‘From Richard,’ she conceded again. Then, because he seemed to be playing with her, she added, ‘I suppose it’s too much to expect you to show him some respect.’

  ‘Did I say I didn’t respect him?’

  ‘You didn’t have to.’ />
  ‘Really?’ He frowned. ‘Well, as a matter of fact, I don’t know him well enough to judge. He tends to act the heavy when I’m around.’

  ‘Do you blame him?’

  Olivia was defensive now, and Joe’s mouth took on a sardonic slant. ‘Well, evidently you don’t,’ he remarked, withdrawing his hand and breathing deeply. ‘Are you sure you’re not still in love with him?’

  ‘No.’ Olivia wished she hadn’t spoken so impulsively. ‘I—I feel sorry for him, that’s all.’

  ‘Oh.’ Joe pulled a face. ‘Sorry for him. The death-knell of any relationship.’ He gave a humorous smile. ‘I hope you never feel sorry for me.’

  ‘As if I would!’ Olivia was impatient.

  Joe’s smile was a little ironic now. ‘Why? You don’t think I can be hurt?’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’ Olivia sighed and pressed her lips together for a moment. ‘I only meant that you don’t really care what I think.’

  ‘Don’t I?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘And you’re an expert, are you?’

  ‘No.’ Olivia drew her lower lip between her teeth. ‘But perhaps I’d like to have the chance to find out.’ She caught her breath, shocked at her own audacity. ‘If you cared what I think we wouldn’t be sitting here arguing about it, would we?’

  Joe regarded her impassively. ‘What would we be doing? ’ he asked, but she knew he didn’t really expect her to tell him. He was far too sophisticated to respond to her amateur psychology, but, looking at his lean, hard mouth, Olivia knew exactly what she wanted to do.

  ‘I’ll show you,’ she said, leaning closer, and, cupping her hand against his cheek, she kissed his mouth.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  HIS withdrawal was not flattering. But then, she could hardly blame him for not responding to her advances in a public place. This was his hotel, for heaven’s sake. He was probably cringing at the thought that one of his staff might have seen them. How could she have been so stupid? She’d probably destroyed any chance of retaining his friendship, let alone anything else.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  The words spilled automatically from her lips, her head clearing and allowing her to see exactly how foolishly she’d behaved. She desperately wanted to leave, to avoid any further humiliation, but when she would have slid along the banquette to make her escape his hand descended on her knee.

  It was funny, she thought, trying to quell her panic. When she’d tried to imagine how he would react if she put her hand on his knee she’d never expected that their positions might be reversed. And his fingers were strong and masculine. She just knew that if she tried to pull away he’d cause a scene.

  ‘Stay where you are,’ he said, and the harshness of his tone brooked no argument. ‘It’s my own fault I shouldn’t have baited you. Though, in my own defence, I have to say I didn’t think you’d take me seriously.’

  The words ‘I didn’t!’ trembled on Olivia’s tongue but she swallowed them back. She would have liked to say something flip and belittling in return, but she couldn’t think of anything. And in any case he’d have known it for what it was: a pitiful attempt to redeem her self-respect. So, instead, she told the truth. ‘You were right,’ she said, with a careless shrug. ‘I don’t know enough about men.’

  Joe’s voice was gentler. ‘I wouldn’t say that.’

  ‘Wouldn’t you?’ Olivia still couldn’t look at him. She looked down at his hand instead, still gripping her knee, and as if he’d just realised what he was doing Joe pulled his hand away. ‘I suppose that’s because you’re too polite.’

  ‘I’m not polite!’ he retorted savagely, and then, expelling a weary breath, added, ‘For God’s sake, Olivia, stop beating up on yourself, will you? It was a kiss, right? Maybe I’m not used to beautiful women making passes at me.’

  Beautiful women?

  Olivia wanted to laugh, but there was no humour in it. She wasn’t beautiful and he knew that It was just his way of getting out of a difficult situation.

  ‘Please,’ she said, and now she turned her head because she wanted to see his lying face, ‘don’t treat me like a fool!’

  ‘I’m not.’ His nostrils flared with sudden impatience, and his strange cat’s eyes darkened until they looked almost black. ‘Come on.’ He took her arm. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

  And do what? she wondered, but she had no intention of staying around to find out. She went with him because she had no choice with his hard fingers circling the flesh of her upper arm, but once they were outside the bar she broke free of him.

  ‘Thanks for the drink,’ she said politely, as if there were nothing more between them than a casual acquaintance. ‘Goodnight.’

  ‘Wait!’

  He caught up with her before she reached the lifts, and she turned to him with what she hoped appeared to be cool composure. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Tomorrow,’ he said grimly. ‘What are you doing tomorrow? ’

  Olivia’s eyes widened. She couldn’t help it. ‘I—I’m working,’ she faltered unevenly, and then despised herself for sounding so weak.

  ‘All day?’ he demanded, and she struggled to recover her self-control.

  ‘Why?’ she asked stiffly, and, aware that they were attracting a lot of unwelcome attention, he stifled an oath.

  ‘You just work in the morning, don’t you?’ he asked, in a low, angry voice, and because she didn’t want to embarrass herself any more than she’d done already Olivia nodded. ‘Okay.’ He took a breath. ‘Let me—make amends for this evening’s fiasco by taking you to the beach. What do you say?’

  Olivia’s breath seemed constricted to the back of her throat. ‘I—I don’t know what to say—’

  ‘Then don’t say anything,’ he advised shortly. ‘I’ll meet you here, by the elevators, at two o‘clock.’

  Olivia licked lips that were suddenly dry with anticipation. ‘I—all right.’

  God knew why she’d accepted, she chided herself as she went up in the lift to the penthouse floor. But she had and she was going to have to live with it. Or regret it, as the case may be...

  * * *

  When Manuel came to pick her up the next morning, Richard was with him.

  She hadn’t spoken to her ex-husband for more than two weeks, and she’d come to enjoy the short journey between the hotel and Diane’s house. Manuel didn’t talk a lot, but he was friendly, and they’d established an easy rapport that was both comfortable and undemanding. Finding Richard lounging in the back of the limousine was not welcome, and she was afraid that her expression showed it.

  ‘Some surprise, eh?’ remarked Richard, with obvious resentment at her reaction. ‘Foolishly, I thought you might be glad to see me.’

  Olivia sighed. ‘I am, of course,’ she said, without much conviction. ‘Did you have a good trip?’

  ‘Oh, you noticed?’

  ‘Noticed what?’

  ‘That I’d been away,’ retorted Richard shortly. And then he said to Manuel, ‘Get this heap moving, can’t you?’

  Olivia sucked in a breath and exchanged a helpless look with the chauffeur. She felt embarrassed for Manuel and herself, and she wondered why Richard had chosen to announce his return in this way.

  ‘I knew you’d gone to Las Vegas,’ she said now as Manuel drove onto Santa Monica Boulevard. ‘Ms Haran mentioned something about a golf tournament.’

  ‘Ms Haran!’ Richard was scornful. ‘You’re not still calling her Ms Haran, are you? For God’s sake, Liv, her name’s Diane. You didn’t call her Ms Haran when you first met her.’

  ‘No.’

  But Olivia refused to be drawn into a discussion about how they’d met. And, in all honesty, she always thought of her as Diane. But she now never addressed her as anything other than ‘Ms Haran’.

  ‘Anyway, I understand you’re still working on the biography,’ Richard went on disparagingly. ‘I’m surprised you haven’t been at one another’s throats before now.’

  ‘Because of yo
u?’

  Olivia’s tone was more incredulous than she’d have liked and it inspired exactly the reaction she’d hoped to avoid. ‘Why not?’ he snarled. ‘You haven’t convinced me, you know. You didn’t come out here just to write a book. You had something else in mind.’

  Olivia sighed. ‘You can think what you like,’ she said, looking out of the window and wishing she’d stuck to her original intention to get herself a rental car. But she’d fallen into the habit of letting Manuel drive her, deciding that it was probably safer as she didn’t really know her way around.

  ‘Oh, Liv—’ His next words were spoken in an entirely different tone and she prayed he wasn’t going to try and rekindle their relationship again. ‘I know you despise me for letting myself get into this situation, but have a little pity, will you? I need your support.’

  Olivia shook her head. ‘I don’t despise you,’ she protested, but she wondered if that was really true. She blew out a breath. ‘I’d like to think we could remain friends.’

  ‘Friends!’ His voice rose again. ‘Like Diane and Joe Castellano are friends, you mean?’

  Olivia hesitated ‘I—I don’t know what—what Diane and Mr Castellano are,’ she murmured unhappily. ‘I just meant—’

  ‘Well, I’d like us to be friends that way, too!’ exclaimed Richard harshly. ‘That way, we’d be together, every chance we got.’

  ‘I don’t think—’

  Olivia started to say that she didn’t think Diane and Joe were together every chance they got and then broke off. She had no desire to have to explain how she felt equipped to make that kind of claim, but Richard wouldn’t leave it alone.

  ‘You don’t think what?’ he demanded, half turning towards her. ‘That Castellano and my wife aren’t having an affair? Give me a break, Liv. I’ve got proof.’

  Olivia swallowed. ‘Proof?’ she said faintly, unwilling to admit why she was humouring him in this way.

  ‘Yeah, proof,’ said Richard smugly. ‘And she knows it.’

  Olivia glanced towards the back of Manuel’s head. ‘Well, I—’

  ‘Does it make a difference?’

  Richard’s question was urgent, but Olivia felt uncharacteristically blank. ‘A difference?’ she said, blinking. ‘A difference to what?’