“I’m almost afraid to ask.” And she was, for fear that she wouldn’t be strong enough to deny him anything.
“I want to dance with you.”
That was definitely a first. “I didn’t realize you could dance.”
“I’m no Fred Astaire, but I can hold my own as long as it’s a slow dance.”
A slow dance meant having his arms around her. Being up close and very personal. Grasping for an excuse to turn down the offer, Renee glanced to her left to find the miniscule dance floor fortunately crowded. “Looks like a traffic jam to me.”
Pete downed his beer, pushed away from the table and stood. “We’ll find a spot away from the crowd.”
When he held out his hand, Renee considered issuing a protest. Instead, she said, “Let me go to the ladies’ room first, then I’ll give you my answer.”
He pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “And while you’re doing that, I’ll check on Adam.”
“Good idea.” And it was. If Adam happened to be missing his uncle, then that could mean cutting the evening short, before she did something she might regret.
Renee grabbed her purse from the chair beside her and worked her way through the tables, heading for the neon green sign that pointed the way to her refuge. When she entered the restroom and fortunately found it deserted, she snatched a paper towel from the metal holder, wet it and dabbed it over her forehead.
Things were progressing too fast and furious. She needed to pull back, stay resolute, even if she now had some understanding of why he’d left her high and dry. She needed to remember that once he was finished scouting locations, he would leave New Orleans. Leave her again. Could she continue down the inevitable path and land back in his arms, and possibly his bed, without losing herself to him completely? But with Adam in the picture, she highly doubted they would have an opportunity to be truly alone. Adam could be her saving grace.
After giving herself a quick mental pep talk, she left the room feeling much stronger. Yet her tenacity began to tumble when she caught sight of Pete sitting back in his chair, his hand wrapped around the beer, one thumb slowly passing up and down the label, reminding her of his touch.
As she moved forward, Renee felt as if she walked through a waking dream, or right into a made-for-television melodrama. There he was, the handsome hero seated at the table, a man of substance beneath the pretty playboy exterior. A man who had flowed in and out of her thoughts for years, as steady as the Pacific tide. A man who had come back into her life, expecting to take up where they’d left off. And what did that make her? The foolhardy, conflicted woman engaged in a serious battle to resist him, one that she was losing.
“Hey, sweetheart. Where are you going?” came from the bar to her left.
Enter sleazebag with lovin’ on his mind. Renee couldn’t have scripted the scene any better.
She raised her gaze from the beefy hand now gripping her arm to the face sporting a shaggy handlebar mustache that framed a seedy grin. She took a quick glance at Pete, who shoved the chair back and stood, ready to ride in like a knight in shining tuxedo. Well, she didn’t need a man to rescue her. She never had.
She sent Pete a quelling look, and through a fair-maiden smile and gritted teeth, she told the barfly, “Look, I’ve had a really difficult week at work. If you don’t unhand me, then I will use a vital part of your anatomy as a stress ball.”
Appearing momentarily shocked, he released his grasp on her and raised both hands, as if she’d aimed a gun at his forehead. “No problem. I can take a hint.”
She started to suggest he not take a bath in cheap cologne, but decided to leave him be and return to the man who had this one beat by a mile. Several miles, in fact.
When she reached the table, Pete was still standing. “Are you okay?” He looked and sounded overly concerned.
“Of course I’m okay. I’m used to handling his kind. I seem to attract them.”
“What did you say to him?”
She shrugged and hung her purse over the adjacent chair. “I told him I was with you.”
“No, you didn’t.”
He knew her too well. “All right. I threatened bodily harm, in a very polite way, of course.”
He let go a laugh. “Remind me not to piss you off.”
“You already have, remember?” When she saw his amusement fade into a frown, she added, “Is Adam okay?”
“He’s fine. According to your mother, he and Daisy Rose are having a great time together. Right now they’re watching videos. She told us not to even consider coming home early because they’ll both be disappointed.”
So much for cutting the evening short. She might as well make the best of it. “Are you ready for that dance now?’
He relaxed and took her hand into his. “Thought you’d never ask.”
After Pete guided her to one corner of the dance floor and pulled her against him, Renee’s heart beat an erratic rhythm that contrasted with the steady cadence of the music. She’d stupidly expected some awkwardness, maybe even hoped for it, something to keep her feet on the floor and her head out of the clouds. Yet she experienced no real reticence, no urge to bolt. In fact, having him so close felt as natural as being awakened in the morning by the sound of a ship’s horn coming from the Mississippi. Then again, she’d been here before, in his embrace, savoring his strength, his scent, his warmth.
She closed her eyes and absorbed the surroundings, the sultry sound of the sax, which didn’t drown out Pete’s voice when he said, “I’ll never forget what you said to me that first night we met. You were hell on wheels.”
Renee raised her eyes to his. “I was rather brazen, wasn’t I?”
“You were beautiful.” He tightened his hold on her. “When I saw you coming toward me, I expected you to walk right past me. Then you stopped and propositioned me.”
She leaned back and scowled. “It was a business proposition.”
“True, but I knew right then you were special. That you had a sharp mind to go along with that angel face and great body. You also had guts.”
If he only knew how twisted her nerves had been during their first introduction, he probably would have sent her on her way. He also hadn’t known how captivated she had been by him. She still was. “I was determined to convince you to direct the movie.”
“You were amazing. By the time you took a breath, I didn’t know what hit me.”
She could relate because she’d felt the same about him. “But you made me work for the deal. At first I thought you weren’t going to agree to it.”
“Honestly, I knew I wanted to do the film the minute you told me about it. I just liked watching you in action.”
She smiled. “I knew exactly what you were doing. It was all part of your game plan.”
“Oh, yeah? I remember you playing right along with it.”
“This is true.”
The conversation suspended as they continued to dance in place while other couples passed by. Renee couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt so content, so happy to be with someone, despite the danger in that.
When the band took a break, they returned to the table and reminisced about the times they’d spent together, the pitfalls of the business, the direction Pete’s replacement had taken the movie. Pete wasn’t critical, but Renee sensed he would have done things differently. With every passing moment, every snippet of easy conversation, it was as if the years had dissolved. And when they again returned to the dance floor, they held each other closer, his hands roving down her back, hers tightening around his neck.
Renee rested her cheek against his chest for a time until he lifted her chin with gentle fingertips. “I want to kiss you so damn bad right now, it’s driving me crazy.”
As much as Renee wanted that, too, she’d never been one to engage in public displays of affection. “Not here.”
“Then let’s go to your place.”
How easy it would be to tell him yes. But reason led her to say, “We can’t do that.�
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He stopped and framed her face in his hands. “Tell me you don’t want to be with me again. That you don’t want me to touch you.”
She stared at him through the haze her mind had become, and when she didn’t respond, he said, “That’s what I thought. You want it as badly as I do.”
Yes she did, but at what cost? “We have to pick up Adam soon,” she said, even though she’d lost all track of time.
Pete glanced at the clock hanging over the bar and uttered a curse. “It’s eleven forty-five.”
Renee looked to her right at the glass door and saw the limousine parked at the curb. “Luc’s here,” she said, her voice laced with disappointment. Even Cinderella had been granted midnight.
When Pete continued to look at her, a host of questions—along with undeniable heat—in his eyes, Renee tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her. “We have to go now,” she said with little conviction.
“I know. I have a responsibility to my nephew. But God help me, I want to be with you tonight. All night.”
“We don’t have a choice, Pete. Even if we did, I’m not sure I’m ready to take that step.”
“I know.” He let out a long sigh of resignation and stepped back, leaving Renee feeling strangely bereft.
After Pete paid the bill, they left the club, keeping a wide berth between them. Luc opened the limo’s door and offered a quick greeting before they slid inside and took opposing seats.
The door closed, the lights dimmed, Pete pressed the button to raise the partition once more, and the curtain came down on any control when he muttered, “I can’t fight this anymore.”
He was out of his seat and at her side before Renee could object. Without formality, he tugged her into his arms. Without the least bit of hesitation, he pressed his lips against hers.
The soft insistence of his mouth, the gentle glide of his tongue incited more memories, more heat, and had her surrendering to the power he continued to have over her. She felt light-headed, almost dizzy. She wanted to be strong but instead she was weak. Weak with wanting him, wanting more.
When he pulled back, a strange, needy sound drifted from Renee’s mouth, prompting Pete to kiss her again, his hands drifting up her sides, coming perilously close to her breast. Even if she gave it her best effort, Renee doubted she could stop him.
“How much time before we’re there?” he whispered, his warm breath playing over her ear.
Surely he wasn’t suggesting… “Ten minutes, tops.”
“Damn. That’s not even enough time for foreplay.” He toyed with her hem, which had crept up above her knees. “Or maybe it is enough time.”
She was so on edge, if he dared to touch her, two minutes would be more accurate. “Luc would know what we’d been up to the minute we got out. Worse, my mother would know, too.”
He inched his palm a little higher. “You could fake it.”
She laid her hand on his to stop his upward progress, proud that she still had that much presence of mind. “What would be the point in that? If you have to fake it, you might as well not bother.”
His laugh sounded almost pained. “That’s not what I meant. You’ve been around enough actors to know how to put on a good show.”
After she removed his hand, she inched over to provide some much-needed space. “Nothing’s going to happen between us, Pete.”
“Is that in reference to right now, or never?”
Heaven help her, if she told him never, she’d be lying. Honestly, she ached for him. Ached for one more time, one more night. One more memory. “Why don’t we just see what happens?”
He tipped his head against the seat and let out a long draft of air. “Okay. We’ll see what happens.” He sounded as if he knew exactly what would happen.
“We’re here,” Luc announced, disturbing the momentary silence.
When Pete didn’t bother to move, she shifted toward him and frowned. “Are you coming?”
His smile was wry, and incredibly sexy. “Bad choice of words, Renee.”
She felt her face fire up like a backyard grill. “I meant are you ready to go get your nephew.”
He drew both hands down his face. “I need a few minutes. Otherwise, I might make a lasting impression on your family, and not a good one.”
Renee leaned out the car to find Luc standing by the hood, staring at the night sky. “We’ll be out in a bit,” she said, then pulled the door partially closed.
Renee couldn’t imagine what Luc was thinking. She really didn’t want to know what he was thinking. On the other hand, she could barely think at all.
She took the seat across from Pete, who seemed determined not to look at her. “Do you want me to go get him?”
He leaned forward, lowered his head and forked both hands through his hair. “No. I’m okay. Let’s go.”
“Just one thing you need to be aware of. Or maybe I should say someone you need to be aware of.”
He lifted his gaze to her. “Let me guess. Your grandmother owns a pit bull.”
“My grandmother is a pit bull. We refer to her as ‘The Queen,’ behind her back, of course. She’s in her eighties, and she’s rather blunt.” That was an understatement of the first order.
Pete didn’t look at all concerned. “I can handle blunt. Besides, how bad could she be?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
IF LOOKS COULD KILL, Pete would be taking one right between the eyes. The frail-framed elderly woman delivering the near-fatal visual shot looked as if she could hold her own in any given situation, in spite of her age. Maybe even wrestle a few Louisiana alligators. Or men she saw as a threat to her granddaughters, and he figured he fell into that category.
“It’s about time you returned,” she said as they moved into the foyer. “You’re five minutes late.”
Looking uncomfortable, Renee said, “Your watch is fast as always, Grand-mére. And I’m surprised you’re still up at this time of the night.”
“When I’m not able to remain awake to see that my grandchildren are safe, then I will be ready to be put out to pasture.”
“And I’m sure that won’t be happening anytime soon.” Renee’s smile looked stiff. “Pete, this is my grandmother, Celeste Robichaux. Grand-mére, Pete Traynor.”
“I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Robichaux.” Pete held out his hand to her and for a moment thought she might actually ignore the gesture. Hell, he thought she might even toss him out on his ass. He honestly believed she could do it, too.
After a brief handshake, she said, “I assume you’re the boy’s uncle.”
Considering her less than friendly tone, Pete questioned what he was in for after he confirmed that fact. It didn’t matter. He had no intention of denying his nephew. “That’s right. Hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”
Her expression softened somewhat. “He has a definite joie de vivre, and for the most part, he’s well-mannered. I admire that in a child.”
As close to a compliment as she got, Pete guessed. “Where is he now?”
“In the den, asleep in front of the television,” Celeste said. “They both tired out not long after dinner.”
“And where’s Mother?” Renee asked.
Celeste rolled her eyes. “She disappeared some time ago. Most likely she’s packing her things in preparation to desert me.”
“Mother’s moving back to her quarters at the hotel,” Renee explained. “She’s more than ready to be on her own again.”
Obviously intent on ignoring her granddaughter’s comment, Celeste waved a thin, careworn hand at Pete. “Come sit with me, Mr. Traynor, while Renee retrieves your nephew.”
Renee sent him an apologetic look. “I won’t be long.”
Pete hoped not, because when he followed Celeste into the nearby parlor, he felt as if he’d entered the queen’s court, with the queen serving as judge and jury, and he was about to be sentenced to the gallows.
He grabbed the first chair available, a stiff, wing-backed thing that wasn’t the least bit
comfortable, which was fine with him. He didn’t plan on staying any longer than necessary. Celeste seated herself on a settee across from him and folded her hands in her lap. He found it kind of strange she was still dressed in a pantsuit instead of a robe, although he shouldn’t be all that surprised. She was the kind of woman who probably stood firm on decorum, and dared anyone to challenge her on that. Pete wouldn’t make the mistake of crossing that line.
He surveyed the room, trying to appear casual when he’d really prefer to get the hell out of Dodge. “Nice place. How long have you been here?”
“Many years.”
Short and sweet, but that was okay. He wasn’t necessarily in the mood for deep conversation. And she’d probably coldcock him if she knew what he was in the mood for—spending the night with her granddaughter. “I haven’t had time to explore the Garden District, but I plan to do that before I leave.”
“When exactly are you leaving?” she asked.
Now wouldn’t be soon enough, at least when it came to sitting in this room with a woman who apparently held him in gutter-level esteem. “End of the week. I’m here scouting locations for a movie.”
She didn’t look at all impressed. “Then you’re from Hollywood?”
“Yeah. That’s where I met Renee a few years back.”
She stiffened even more. “I see.”
He had a sneaking suspicion she did see—right through him. “We’re friends.”
“Of course you are,” she said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm. She leaned forward and nailed him with her sharp gaze. “Mr. Traynor, what are your intentions in regard to my granddaughter?”
Man, he hadn’t had this kind of interrogation since he was sixteen and he’d tried to date the preacher’s daughter. “I want to spend some time with her before I go back to California. Maybe have a couple of dinners. Have her show us a few more sites.”
“You and your nephew?”
“Yeah.”
“As a friend?”
Time to lie. “Yes.”
Seemingly relaxed, she sat back on the sofa. “All right then. I only have one more question.”
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