by Judy Duarte
“Joey, Piper, you remember Riley. You met him once before.” She took Riley’s arm and leaned into him to show her pets the man was a friend.
Tail wagging, Joey came forward and sniffed Riley’s trouser legs, then his crotch.
Riley took a wary step back.
“Sorry,” Lisa said without embarrassment. One couldn’t spend much time around dogs without becoming immune to their natures.
Riley extended a hand and Joey sniffed it, then allowed the man to pet his head and scratch behind his ears.
Piper, on the other hand, remained several feet away and growled low in his throat.
Lisa spent another five minutes coaxing the dark golden retriever to relax his guard and accept Riley, but the dog remained agitated.
Finally she ordered the animal to lie down on the kitchen rug and she got two glasses from the cupboard.
“Sorry they’re not fancy,” she said, indicating the tall, thin glasses with faded irises on the sides. She glanced at the bottle. “I don’t have a corkscrew.”
“I calculated for that.” Reaching into the pocket of his suit coat, he pulled one out. “Brought one from the house.”
“That’s probably Piper’s problem. He sensed you were carrying a weapon.”
He cocked a brow to give her a skeptical look, then opened the wine and poured the glasses half-full. “What shall we drink to?”
Lisa blinked and studied him in the dim light. “I don’t know.”
He held up his glass and she did the same. “To second chances.”
What he meant by that, she wasn’t sure. He might have meant any number of things. His father and his half brother came to mind. He could be teasing her about Derek. Or he might be talking sex and toasting their second time together. Her stomach dipped at that possibility.
In the next second, the burning look in his blue eyes made her think that’s exactly what he was talking about.
She sipped the wine.
He watched and did the same.
Riley took her glass and set both on the red Formica table. Without another word he pulled her into his arms and kissed her senseless.
Lisa met every brush of his lips and thrust of his tongue eagerly. She wrapped one arm around his neck and pulled herself closer.
Riley used his fingertips on the bare skin of her back to create shivers and raise her level of excitement. “You’re not wearing a bra.”
“You wanted me to let you wonder.”
“I’ve figured it out. You couldn’t be wearing one with this dress.”
She’d let Gwen talk her into the thong this time, too. Lisa still had a surprise or two left.
“Why are you smiling?”
“You’ll see.”
“When?”
She reached up and loosened the knot in his tie until she could edge it away from his collar and off over his head. “Soon.”
He took off his suit coat and she unbuttoned his shirt.
He wore the familiar white T-shirt, and she tugged it from the waistband of his trousers. He crossed his arms and yanked it off over his head.
Lisa pressed languid kisses against his chest.
“Where’s your room?”
“Upstairs.”
He picked up their glasses. “Lead the way.”
Chapter Ten
She left the light on over the sink as well as the lamp he’d turned on in the living room and led the way up the shadowed staircase. She’d climbed these stairs hundreds of times, maybe thousands. Never with a man.
Well, no man except Wendell Carlton, the aged handyman her grandmother had occasionally hired to fix things. Wendell didn’t count. Riley wasn’t here to fix a leak or caulk a tub. Her knees got weak at the thought of him in her room.
After entering her bedroom, she turned on the painted-glass lamp on her dresser, knowing it would just barely illuminate.
Riley glanced at the antique furniture, the old-fashioned metal bed frame with its chenille spread and folded quilt. Her pillowcases were delicately embroidered and edged with crocheted lace. She knew how different her home was from his, how much their tastes contrasted. This was who she was, and him knowing it made her uncomfortably vulnerable.
He set the glasses on her painted night table and eyed her vintage bed. “Is that frame sturdy?”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
He grinned.
She turned so he could unzip her dress. He lowered the zipper and she stepped out of the garment, draping it over the cedar chest. She took a fortifying breath and turned back to see his reaction.
Riley was looking at her as if he couldn’t drag his gaze away. Finally he spoke. “Wow.”
She picked up her glass and let her gaze seduce him. “You’re overdressed.”
He sat on her bed to remove his shoes and socks, then stood and stepped out of his trousers. Still wearing a pair of snug-fitting gray boxer-briefs, he took his own glass and downed the liquid in one swallow. “Want more? I can go get the bottle.”
She shook her head no, sipped her wine slowly, then set her glass aside and eased onto the bed. “Maybe later.”
Riley kept a rein on his hunger. She knew exactly what she was doing. This woman strove to drive him crazy. She was a seductress in every way. If she’d told him she was a virgin, he probably wouldn’t have believed her. But he’d learned firsthand. The thought still tied him in knots. And she wouldn’t talk about it.
Something primitively male and possessive and old-fashioned puffed up inside him at the prideful knowledge that he was the only man who’d ever made love to her.
Just looking at Lisa now made his chest swell, and feelings he’d never known overcame him. The emotions weren’t anything he wanted to acknowledge. They weren’t anything he knew or understood.
She eased the covers back and stretched out on the bed.
But they were sensations that had begun to control him.
She was an anomaly, a siren and an innocent in one fabulous package.
She consumed his thoughts.
“Like the thong?” she asked.
“Love it.”
“Now that you’ve seen it, I really want to toss it.”
He laughed. “Go right ahead.”
He loved her.
She eased the scrap of satin down her hips and legs and gave it a fling.
He lost a slat in the rickety footbridge between his brain centers, and his thoughts swung by a precarious thread. Not part of the plan, his head told him.
Doesn’t matter, his body responded.
You’re in perilous territory here. That word shouldn’t have been in your mental vocabulary.
Just a slip. I didn’t mean it. And I certainly didn’t say it.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked.
“Just appreciating the view.”
She propped her head on one hand. “Well, share the experience, then.”
Riley stripped off his briefs and climbed onto the bed, not caring how small the mattress was or that the metal headboard creaked with his weight. All he wanted was to be close to Lisa.
A low growl thwarted his next move, however, and he raised his head to find the dark golden retriever right beside the bed, his ears back and his demeanor threatening.
Lisa rolled to the side of the bed and stood. “Piper, no. I told you Riley is a friend.” She padded across the room and pointed out into the hallway. “Go.”
The dog looked from his mistress to the man threatening his home, obviously confused.
“Piper. Go,” she commanded.
The dog padded out and she closed the door, then returned to lie beside Riley.
A touch of amusement tilted the corners of her mouth, but her eyes were still filled with sultry passion. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him. Dogs are usually such good judges of character.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to share your affections.”
She tucked her hair behind her ear and asked, “You think I feel affection for you?”
Taking her in his arms, he outlined her lips with a finger, kissed the corner of her mouth and studied her features. “No, I just hope you do.”
She’d told him they’d met years ago in school, but he only vaguely remembered the girl she’d been then. The fact that they’d met before explained the sense of déjà vu he’d experienced the evening they’d examined the wine list together, though. It was the way she’d told him that disturbed him. And the timing.
She’d said it the night after they’d made love as he’d dropped her off at her house, almost like a “so there” parting shot. She’d never mentioned it again.
“You’re still just appreciating the view,” she said. “Piper didn’t spoil the mood, did he?”
“I like to look. The same way you like to say my name.”
He thought she blushed.
“Go ahead. Say it.”
“No, you can’t make me now.”
“I’ll bet I can.”
“You’re on.”
She said his name a dozen times with as many inflections over the next hour. He loved his name on her lips, loved her hair, adored the sounds she made when he brought her pleasure. He even loved her creaky bed.
Spent, Riley lay on his back, his skin damp with perspiration, and felt her heartbeat against his ribs. She drew lazy circles in the hair on his belly with one finger. He loved everything about being with Lisa Martin.
And he wanted to tell her.
“Lisa.”
“Hmm?”
“I love you.”
Her finger stilled. The sound of her ticking alarm clock filled his ears. He shouldn’t have said it. He shouldn’t have thought it. What had he expected her to do? Return the sentiment?
Initially yes, he had. He’d thought it would be an easy task to ingratiate himself and make himself invaluable. He hadn’t planned to feel anything. He hadn’t planned to care. Hadn’t planned to mean it.
“I have a feeling that you’ve loved a lot of women,” she said at last, her tone light.
He bit back an argument.
“Like you love your Jag and you love blackened steak a little rare. Like you love a really good vintage wine.”
He didn’t say anything, but his heart hammered.
She scooted upward on the bed with a creak of metal and sat with the sheets held against her breasts. The hair at her temples had turned to corkscrews.
“Tell me that’s what you meant, Riley, because I don’t want anything to happen to our relationship. We have to see each other at meetings, and you’re contracted as my advisor. What we’ve already done is probably unwise and unprofessional…but I don’t want it to be a big mistake.”
He managed an easy smile that he didn’t feel. “Of course that’s what I meant. Actually you’re better than wine, but my Jag? I’ll need more time to think about that.”
Lisa eased back against the pillows.
He’d passed off the uncomfortable moment with a stab at humor, and she seemed appeased. He should have his head examined. He should have his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. He should not be letting feelings get in the way.
“Will you show me the way out to the cabin tomorrow?” she asked. “That is, as long as it’s still okay for me to stay there for a while.”
“Of course it is. Let me know when you’re ready.”
“I’ve had a couple of calls for interviews since the People thing. Did you see it?”
“Marge showed me. Are you accepting them?”
“No. I really just want this to blow over. I don’t want to be on television.”
“Maybe one big interview would satisfy the curiosity.”
“That’s what we thought about the locals, too.”
“Your picture hasn’t been in the Nugget for a couple of days now.”
She picked at a thread on her bedspread. “I’ll think about it.”
“Lisa, did we graduate together?”
“No, I was a sophomore when you were a senior.”
“A sophomore coaching me with chemistry? That hurts.”
“A young sophomore, too,” she added with a grin. “I skipped a grade in elementary school.”
“Double ouch. Do you have any yearbooks?”
“Somewhere.”
“Can I look at them?”
She got up and opened her closet, where she snagged a thick chenille robe and pulled it on. Then she pushed aside clothing and pulled out a couple of boxes. Inside the second one she found three volumes of the Thunder Canyon High yearbook and carried them back to the bed.
Riley reached for the lamp on the night table and switched it on before sitting back against the piled pillows.
“What do you want to see?” she asked, laying the books beside him.
“You.”
“Oh, come on.” She reached to take back the books, but he spread his hand on the top one and held the pile fast.
He glanced at the dates and covers and recalled having one the same. The volume was from the year he graduated. Opening it, he saw none of the youthful writings and scribbled good wishes that littered the pages of his. He quickly found Martin, Lisa J. in the directory and noted the three pages where her picture would be found.
In the first snapshot, sixteen members of the chess club smiled for the camera. He scanned the faces without recognition, then read the names listed below and found her. The same wild hair she’d had only a month ago, a concealing sweater and long skirt.
The second picture showed the library volunteers gathered around a display of presidential biographies. He picked her out this time, noting her shy expression and the way she stood behind someone else’s shoulder.
“Which one has your graduation picture?”
“You’ve already seen it on TV.”
“I’ll find it myself.”
“That one.”
He opened the book she’d indicated and located her picture. Yes, he’d seen the picture on the news, but he hadn’t known then that they’d met before. He studied the photo now.
Like a blurry image coming into focus, memories of Lisa watching him in the cafeteria, on the football field, in the library became clear. This was the quiet girl who had tutored him? He’d like to think he’d been too focused on learning the concepts and passing the class to get to know her. As the memories returned, the sting of conscience bit him.
“You worked in the cafeteria.”
“Yes.”
How had he not noticed her? Had he been that busy? That full of himself? So caught up in his social activities that a sophomore outside his circle was invisible?
“Don’t try to figure it out,” she said, as though reading his mind. “I worked at not being seen.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “A lot of reasons. The Lily thing was part of it—not wanting to draw attention. I didn’t have clothes that were in style or hair like the other girls. I just didn’t fit in and eventually it became my identity.”
Lisa blushed and looked away as though she’d revealed too much of herself.
“And now? Who are you now?”
She took the yearbooks and moved them to the night table. “I’m not ashamed of Lily anymore. And I guess I can have all the clothes I want, huh?”
“What about guys? Boyfriends?”
“I can have all of those I want, too, huh?”
She’d deliberately sidestepped his question, not to mention implied that he wasn’t her only option. The insinuation made a fist of anger rise in his chest. Anger. Possessiveness. Things he shouldn’t be feeling. He had something to ask her and he was going to have to ask soon.
Her reaction to his hastily spoken declaration had been his warning to tread softly, however. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her off. This wasn’t a sure thing yet.
“I’ll just have to prove I’m enough.” He slid a hand inside the robe and stroked the warm, soft skin of her waist and hip. “Think it’ll take much convincing tonight?”
“Definitely. I�
��ve been having recurring thoughts of Orlando Bloom.”
“Who?”
“Never mind. Convince me.”
Riley was so large, he took up more than half the space in the bed. She woke in the dark with her body conformed to his. A glance at the luminous dial on her clock told her it was only a little after four. Lisa had never slept beside a man. She’d never shared a bed with anyone except her dogs, and the thought of them being closed out of the room gave her a twinge of guilt. She couldn’t let them in now, not with Riley in the bed.
Getting up, she found her robe on the floor and tiptoed to the door. Piper lay in the hall as though guarding her room. At her exit, he scrambled to his feet. She pulled the door shut behind her, not risking the chance of another confrontation.
“Hey, boy.” She bent to pet him before moving on down the hall and descending the steps.
Joey had been sleeping on the pile of blankets beside the sofa, and she told him what a good dog he was for sparing her furniture. Both dogs padded behind her into the kitchen.
She poured fresh water into their bowls and got herself a glass of milk. “Hope you’re not taking this personally.” She sipped her milk and glanced at their accusatory expressions. “I know having him here is out of the ordinary. But there’s a lot to be said for new experiences. Ordinary can really suck.”
Joey lay down with his chin on his front paws and blinked up at her. Piper glanced toward the doorway, as if he knew who she was talking about and didn’t like being kicked to the curb one bit.
“It’s not forever, guys, trust me. Please don’t begrudge me this one thing for as long as it lasts. I had to know. I had to do something for me just this once.”
Plumbing in the upstairs recesses of the house clanged. He was awake.
“C’mon, boys, outside.”
They scrambled to the back door, which she unlocked before ushering them out.
“What are you doing up so early?” Riley entered the kitchen wearing his black trousers and carrying his shirt and shoes. His dark hair was endearingly messy.
“I just woke up.”
He set the clothes on the seat of a chair. “I guess I’ll head out.”
