by Sheryl Lynn
“What kind of soup?”
“Pardon?”
“What kind of soup did you dump on the lecher’s lap?”
A laugh burst free and she clapped a hand over her mouth. Daniel Tucker, she decided, had a twisted sense of humor. “Winter squash,” she said between her fingers. “Chef’s specialty.”
He nodded. “So your dad yells and the goddess lifts her skirt to show off feet of clay. No wonder Pinky is ticked off.”
“I was yelling, too,” she reminded him.
“That’s worse. Yelling is much too human. Do you see what I’m getting at?”
She saw his point. As long as she was perfect, Pinky contented himself with anonymous notes. “I never would have connected the incident with Pinky’s attitude. I suppose you do know what you’re doing.”
“I’ve done my homework.” He steepled his fingers over his chest. “That’s why you need to step out of character. Even if it means public displays of affection.”
She never fraternized with employees. She kept her personal life 100 percent private. Having Daniel hanging all over her, hamming it up and pretending he loved her would cause gossip and speculation.
“Why is this so hard for you?” he asked.
His question bothered her in ways she couldn’t define. “You wouldn’t understand. Not that it matters. I’ve already conceded I need your help.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled with his smile. “Tough girl, huh.”
“Not tough enough to make Pinky leave my father alone.” She reached for her coat. “We’ll begin with a tour of the grounds.”
He opened the office door. “Just remember to giggle at my jokes.”
Chapter Three
Shaken by Pinky’s latest missive, Janine had trouble maintaining a pleasant demeanor. Pinky had threatened outright murder. No amount of denial or putting a spin on it made it anything less than a death threat. Arm in arm she strolled with Daniel through the lobby. She forced a smile even though it made her face ache. Her head throbbed. She introduced him to employees and guests she knew by name. Each time she said boyfriend, her throat choked.
Young or old, beautiful or plain, women turned their heads to watch him walk by. He moved with the easy grace of a natural-born athlete. His penny-bright eyes appeared to miss nothing. He exuded self-confidence, intelligence and goodwill—he radiated attitude.
They walked outside onto the huge deck behind the lodge. In fair weather it sported tables and umbrellas for alfresco dining. A few hardy souls garbed in ski togs braved the biting cold. The smell of hot cocoa and buttered rum rose like perfume. Daniel commented on the view. Strategically planted trees blocked the sight of the parking lot, but not the forest and mountains gleaming pearly white.
A bus lumbered up the graveled drive and parked below the deck. Daniel and Janine stepped aside to make way for a group of people dressed for skiing. Laughing and talking, their boots making the wooden deck rumble and shake, the people carried skis, poles and snowboards onto the bus. Daniel kept an arm wrapped firmly around Janine’s waist.
“Is the shuttle driver your employee?” he asked.
“No. We contract with the bus company. Why?”
“He’s staring at you.”
She sneaked a peek and recognized the driver. He’d been working for the shuttle company for as long as the Dukes had owned Elk River Resort. “He isn’t Pinky.”
“You’re sure?”
She chuckled at the idea of the shuttle driver being a deranged stalker. “Positive. He and my father are friends.” She waved to prove her point. The driver waved back, then shut the bus doors and shoved the transmission into gear. The bus rolled into the parking lot to make the turnaround.
Janine walked down the steps. “I’ve hired twenty new employees this year. Of those, twelve were hired specifically for the holiday season, mid-November through the end of February. Four of the seasonal employees worked for us last year.”
“You have sixty people on staff, right? How many of them live at the resort?”
“At the moment, eighteen. We offer room and board as part of the employment package. It can be a tough commute in the winter.”
“Where do they live?”
She pointed toward a fence nearly concealed by juniper trees. A green-painted roof was visible beyond the foliage. “The dormitory can house thirty people. The managerial staff have rooms inside the lodge in the east wing.”
She gave him the grand tour. Daniel listened attentively as she pointed out various buildings. Warmed with pride, she stopped having to force a smile.
Even in the midst of winter, the resort grounds sparkled. All the outbuildings were clean and painted white with green trim. The parking lots were graded and cleared of ice and snow. Evergreen hedges and trees concealed areas with less-than-aesthetic features.
“I can see why you love it here,” he said. He breathed deeply. “Wood smoke and snow. Ought to bottle it.”
His charm was getting under her skin. She was beginning to relax, even to enjoy herself. “You’re quite the romantic.”
“Hopelessly.” A light breeze tousled his hair. Cold turned his cheeks ruddy. He playfully flipped at her furry coat collar. “Aren’t you?”
She reminded herself he was an employee with a specific task to accomplish. No flirtations. No silliness. “No. I’m a businesswoman.”
“Nine-to-five and nothing else? I don’t believe it What do you do for fun?”
“Balance spreadsheets.”
He threw back his head and laughed.
They walked past the tennis courts and picnic grounds. She pointed out the stables. From a distance a faint jingling of bells said guests were enjoying a horse-drawn wagon ride.
A discordant noise caught her attention. She followed the source and spotted puffs of black smoke rising toward the jewel-like sky. She headed toward it.
“What’s going on?” Daniel asked.
“I’m about to find out.” She reached a garage. Off by itself, tucked behind the dormitory and equipment storage sheds, her father used it to store his antique Jeep. The maintenance people used it to repair mechanical equipment. She considered it an eyesore.
In the graveled yard two men worked on a tractor outfitted with a grading blade. The vehicle sputtered and its engine ground as if in pain. Every few seconds black smoke belched from the exhaust pipe.
The head of maintenance, wearing coveralls and a greasy, billed cap, grinned at her. “Howdy, Ms. Duke. I told the colonel I could get this old girl running.”
Janine swept her gaze over the yard. Tools, gasoline jugs, engine parts and a barrel of grease littered the ground. Discomfited by the junkyard appearance, she glanced at Daniel. He seemed interested in the tractor.
“I appreciate you getting it running again, Juan,” she said. She swept out a hand. “But you can’t leave the yard looking like this.”
The man seated inside the cab shouted over the engine noise. “We gotta get those trails scraped, ma’am. The colonel wants it done today. With the old tractor running we don’t have to hire Kendricks. He’s a robber. Charges an arm and a leg.”
Wiping his hands on a rag, Juan said, “Randy is right, ma’am. We got to work those trails. Don’t be worrying none. We’ll set this place right before sunset.”
The garage wasn’t visible from the lodge, and guests had no reason to come back here. If she hadn’t been so boastful about showing off the grounds, she wouldn’t mind the mess.
“The engine sounds terrible,” she said. “Are you sure it’ll make it up the hills?”
Juan laughed. “She’s a real monster, ma’am. Now that she’s running, she’ll go anywhere. Especially with me riding shotgun for Randy.” He turned his toothy smile on Daniel. Questions sparkled in his eyes.
As if in answer, Daniel hugged her waist and pressed his cheek briefly against hers. “It sounds great to me, cupcake.” He thrust out his right hand. “Daniel Tucker. Janine is showing me the place. I’m impressed. You’re the
man who maintains the grounds for my little sweetie here?”
“Juan Hernandez.” He pumped Daniel’s hand. His cheeks reddened as if he were about to burst into laughter. “I keep the machines running. Nice meeting you.” Juan turned for the tractor. His coveralls sagged with the weight of tools in every pocket. He climbed into the cab with Randy.
Janine watched the vehicle lumber out of the yard. Realizing Daniel had left her she turned around. He peered inside the garage. “Over-the-top is one thing,” she said. “But is calling me goofy names truly necessary?”
He flashed her a boyish smile. He gestured excitedly inside the garage. “Is that what I think it is?”
Men, she thought wearily. Did they never outgrow their delight with ridiculous toys? Even her father, a man in his seventies, collected firearms, golf clubs and military memorabilia as avidly as a six-year-old collected action figures. She followed Daniel into the garage.
Her nose wrinkled in distaste. The place smelled of mice, motor oil and rotting wood. The narrow windows set high near the ceiling held ancient glass coated with dust, grease and spiderwebs. For years she’d been begging her father to tear down this building and replace it with a proper maintenance garage. For years he’d been telling her he’d get around to it. She was beginning to believe he secretly reveled in this small corner of disorder in his otherwise highly structured world.
Daniel rubbed both hands over the flat hood of the colonel’s Jeep.
“It’s from World War II,” she explained. “The colonel is restoring it. He’s been hauling it around for more years than I can remember.”
He climbed behind the steering wheel. “This is cool. I love old cars.”
She had a distinct feeling the colonel was going to adore Daniel. The idea scratched her already-raw nerves. Elliot wanted to meet her family, but she kept finding excuses to put him off. She knew the colonel would dismiss Elliot, a patent attorney, as a paper pusher. She doubted if Elliot would like her father, either. As quirky as Elliot was, he was rather intolerant of the quirks of others.
Even in the wan light Daniel’s face glowed as he examined the dashboard and stick shift. He made engine noises. The colonel would definitely like him.
“Mr. Tucker.”
He paused in his exploration. His grin was pure evil. “It really turns me on when you say my name like that.”
She leveled on him her iciest glare. “Is that supposed to reduce me to giggles?”
“Only if you think it’s funny.”
“I don’t.”
He turned on the seat so his feet rested on the running board. “What do you find funny? Is Elliot funny?”
Startled by his mention of Elliot, she drew warily aside. She didn’t like the inane idea that Daniel could read her mind. “This has nothing to do with Elliot. This has to do with your disrespectful attitude toward me.”
He sat straighter and frowned. “I don’t mean disrespect. It’s just that a beautiful woman like you—”
She thrust up a hand, her palm rigid. “Stop right there. I didn’t take this face out of a drawer and put it on just so you can get your jollies.”
He shrugged. It might have been a sheepish gesture, except his expression was anything but contrite. He looked at her the way a soldier eyed an enemy bunker—he saw a challenge. Her scalp tightened.
He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, putting them nearly nose to nose. His nearness disturbed her. His alluring scent was even worse. Males didn’t affect her—she didn’t allow them to affect her.
Daniel Tucker affected her. She wanted to touch his face and explore the texture of his sensual mouth. An absurd impulse rose to plant her hands on his knees just to see how he’d react.
“Explain to me how it is you can date a guy for years and keep it casual.”
The air grew heavy and close. She wanted to peel out of her heavy coat A funny tingle began at the backs of her knees, creeping upward. She ordered herself to think about something else. Elliot—she couldn’t even remember what he looked like at the moment. Pinky. That broke her spell. She lifted her chin. “I don’t owe you any explanations.”
“How serious are you about him?”
She saw it now. He thought he could bed her. Even worse, naughty little speculations about his sexual prowess popped uninvited, and unwanted, into her head.
He is not desirable, she told herself firmly. He was not sexy. He was a caricature, a conceited ass—a playboy who traded on his good looks. A jerk who thought she should be flattered he deigned to hit on her. He was probably a lousy lover, too.
“I can see I’ve made a mistake. I’ll take care of the problem by myself. Send me a bill for your travel expenses. I’ll pay it promptly.” She turned for the door.
Daniel had her by the arm before she even realized he’d moved. She stiffened.
“You need me,” he said.
“I most certainly do not.”
“What did I do wrong?”
She jerked her arm from his grasp. “Making passes at me is not part of the plan. I won’t tolerate it.”
“Okay, okay. I’m guilty of finding you fascinating and beautiful. But that’s no crime. You make it sound crude.”
“It is crude and offensive. Now go home. You’re fired.”
The door slammed shut, pitching the garage into darkness. “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” she muttered, then louder, “Hey! There’s somebody in here.”
She headed for the door. A loud snap stopped her mid-step. That could not have been the lock in the hasp. Yelling again, she rushed to the door. It refused to budge no matter how hard she pushed on the handle. She slammed her fist against the door. The metal clanged dully.
Daniel shoved his shoulder against the door, but the steel door and hinges didn’t budge. She yelled at whomever had locked the door to unlock it. She heard shoes crunching gravel outside, but he or she refused to answer her cries.
Daniel strained to lift the huge tracked door.
“It’s locked,” she said. “You’ll never budge it.” Either the person outside was completely deaf or else he’d deliberately locked them inside the garage. She pounded on the door until her fists ached.
A splashing noise made her stop pounding. She lowered her gaze to her shoes where liquid seeped beneath the door. The sick-sweet stench of gasoline made her gag. Daniel must have smelled it, too, because he grabbed her arm and dragged her backward.
“Open that door!” she screamed. “Open it right now!”
A dull whoosh answered. Stunned she stared as fingers of bluish flame flickered under the door. Smoke seeped through the cracks in the wooden wall.
“Well, cupcake,” Daniel said, his voice eerily calm. “Looks like you actually do need me.”
Dried out by winter winds the wooden garage caught fire with astonishing speed. Thick black smoke filled the interior. Coughing and gagging, she pulled the collar of her coat over her mouth and nose.
“Is there another way out?” He grabbed her arm and dragged her across the floor. They stumbled over cans, boxes and tools. She stubbed her toes and banged her shins in her haste to escape the flames.
She pointed at windows she could barely see through the smoke. “They’re too small. We’re trapped!”
The horrendous noise was as frightening as the increasing heat and smoke. Rushing and crackling, the flames sounded like a ravenous beast gnawing through the wooden walls. Outside, people were shouting. Something clanged against the tracked garage door. Janine screamed to let them know she and Daniel were trapped. Her throat and lungs burned.
Daniel practically jerked her off her feet. He grabbed a box that sat against a wall and tossed it aside. He was a shadow creature tearing through debris. Without knowing why he acted as he did she relied on instinct and helped toss aside boxes and cans. Smoke blacked out the light from the windows and flames. She couldn’t breathe. Her lungs were afire. Tears streamed from her burning eyes. She lost all sense of direction. A box slipped from her weakening fingers
and dropped on her foot. She barely acknowledged the pain. She wanted out. Away from the flames and the smoke and the horrible noise.
“Watch out!” Daniel yelled. He caught her arm and shook her. “Don’t move.”
She sensed more than saw him whirl. He kicked the wooden wall. Wood snapped with a resounding crack. He kicked it again and then a third time. Daylight glimmered beyond the smoke. He shoved a broken plank, twisting it until the fastening nails gave way.
He shoved her into the hole. Her coat caught. Wood squeezed her shoulders and hips and a protruding nail caught her scalp. She wriggled and squirmed, aided by Daniel pushing her from behind.
She popped free and went sprawling onto her hands and knees. She choked and gagged. Her tortured throat felt as if sandpaper scraped it raw. Hands helped her off the gravel. Excited voices swirled around her. She tried to tell people Daniel was still inside, but only a croak emerged.
People dragged her out of the yard, away from the garage which was now burning out of control. Sparks and cinders and ash drifted like hot snow. People used hoses and buckets of water to fight the flames. She struggled to rise, but hands held her down on a patch of frozen grass. Unable to see more than a blur of faces and bodies she gulped sweet, fresh air into her aching lungs.
“Hey, cupcake.” Daniel dropped onto the grass beside her.
With a cry, she hugged him. He pulled her onto his lap and held her as if he never meant to let her go. He stank of smoke. His arms felt wonderful. Grateful he’d survived, she buried her face against his neck and sobbed in relief.
By the time the volunteer fire department trucks arrived, the garage had burned nearly to the ground. Resort employees had managed to prevent the fire from spreading to nearby trees and buildings, but the garage and its contents were a complete loss. A pall of dark smoke hovered over the resort. The stench of burned rubber and chemicals filled the air.
“Janine!” Kara dropped to her knees and hugged both Janine and Daniel.
“I’m okay,” Janine croaked. It hurt to talk. She coughed. “We’re okay.”
