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Swept Away by the Tycoon

Page 11

by Barbara Wallace


  If he would stop studying her, that is. With her hand clutching at her open neckline to cover herself, she rose and walked to the window. On the other side of the glass, a sparrow hopped from shrub to icy shrub. Chloe watched, grateful for a distraction. “Believe me,” she told Ian, “if you needed to apologize, you’d know. You’d be wearing a cup of coffee.”

  There was no missing the relief in his chuckle. “Lucky me, then, since I don’t have a spare shirt.”

  Before she could blink, he’d joined her at the window. Leaning on the sill, he stretched his long legs in front of him. “Far as I know, only the cars in the parking lot are stuck here. The rest of the street should be fine.”

  Chloe frowned. “What does that mean? You planning to buy someone’s car?”

  “Nothing that drastic, but I was thinking there’s got to be a train station within a town or two. I could walk up to one of the neighbors. See if they’d be willing to drive you there.”

  So he could ship her back to New York. “You want me to leave?” She was surprised by how much the suggestion hurt. She’d rather have the apology.

  “This was supposed to be a one-day trip. I’ve already derailed your weekend. There’s no need for you to miss work, too.”

  “I appreciate you thinking of my career.”

  “And your friend’s wedding. We’re assuming they’ll have the tree cleared in twenty-four hours. Could take longer. Don’t you have maid of honor duties to do?”

  Yes, she did, and his arguments made sense. There was absolutely no reason to stay if she could find a way back to the city. Better yet, he was offering her a way to escape the romantic fishbowl they’d found themselves in. Seeing how the sun was shining and his nearness still ignited a longing sensation in her chest, heading home might be a good idea.

  Except...in laying out his argument, he’d left out a very important reason, perhaps the most compelling of all. “Is this what you want?” she asked. “Do you want me to go back to the city?”

  “You’ve long since paid me back for the purse snatching.”

  She’d forgotten that’s how the trip began. At some point between New York and this morning—the moment she’d slid into the passenger seat of his car, most likely—obligation had stopped playing a role. “Maybe I want to see this trip to a successful conclusion.”

  “What about your friend the bride?”

  “Delilah? She’ll be fine. So, if you’d like me to stay, I will.”

  If Chloe hadn’t been holding her breath, waiting for his response, Ian’s slow smile would have taken it away. “I’d like that,” he said in his sandpaper whisper.

  Her heart did a little victory dance. “Good.”

  * * *

  Turned out Delilah wasn’t fine with the decision. “What do you mean you’re stuck in Pennsylvania?”

  “Long story.” Chloe took a few steps away from the building. With the storm over, she’d discovered she could get a faint cell signal by standing on the back patio, and so she’d called to update her friend. “I’m here to give Ian moral support.”

  “The guy from the coffee shop? Are you nuts? You barely know him.”

  And yet Chloe felt as if she’d known him forever. “I know him better than you think,” she said aloud.

  “Seriously? Three days ago you thought he was an unemployed slacker.”

  Only three days? Wow, it seemed so much longer. “Since then I’ve learned a great deal more about him.”

  On the other end of the line, Delilah sighed. “You’ve done some crazy things, Chloe, but this...? Going away for the weekend with the man?”

  “We planned on it being a day trip. Just long enough to drive to the state university and back.”

  “Awful long way to go for a day trip.”

  “He wanted to visit his son. They’ve been estranged for years, and this was the first time they would meet in person. I thought he could use the support.”

  She chewed her lower lip and waited. Delilah knew enough about her past that she didn’t have to say much more. “Does he appreciate the gesture?” her friend asked after a moment.

  Chloe thought about the smile she and Ian had shared in the library. “I believe he does.

  “Look, I know what I said the other day, but he’s not at all the guy I thought he was. In fact, he’s very...” Sexy. Funny. Incredible. “He’s nice.”

  “You like him then.”

  “Of course I like him. I just told you he’s a nice guy. Why else would I agree to take an eight-hour car ride with the man?”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Nothing romantic is going on. Ian’s not—that is, neither of us are interested in romance.”

  “Never stopped you from falling before,” Delilah replied. “In fact, isn’t ‘disinterested’ a job requirement?”

  “Very funny.” Just once she wished her friends didn’t pay such close attention to her behavior. “You’re as bad as La-roo, you know that?”

  “We try.”

  “In this you can stop trying. I can guarantee nothing’s going to happen.” Ian had made it quite clear. “You can pass the message along to Larissa, too. I don’t need her calling and gushing about some potential romance that isn’t.”

  “I will, if I can reach her. She hasn’t answered her phone all weekend, either. Maybe she and Tom got stuck in the storm, too.”

  “Either that or the two of them are spending the weekend reading the hotel brochure for the thousandth time. Or making little doohickeys to give away to the wedding guests. Did I mention I’m grateful you don’t worry about those kinds of details?”

  “Right now the only detail I’m worried about is whether I’ll have a maid of honor. Promise me you won’t run off to Hawaii with your new boyfriend until after the ceremony, please?”

  “I promise,” Chloe replied, refusing to comment on Del’s using the word boyfriend. “Besides, I spent way too much money on that dress not to walk down the aisle.”

  A few minutes later, she clicked off the phone with a sigh. Something Del had said disturbed her. Not when she called Ian her boyfriend—that was typical teasing—but earlier. That’s never stopped you before.

  “Ow!” An object smacked her head. Looking up, she saw that pieces of ice were falling from the tree. All around her tiny chunks were melting on the patio. Funny how quickly things could thaw. By evening, much of the ice would be gone. Already, the same frozen crust that she’d had to jam her heel into yesterday to cross had turned to slush.

  Voices sounded from the driveway. Picking her way across the parking lot, she found a circle of male guests staring at the tree in the road, pointing out other large branches that littered the area. It was easy to find Ian in the group. He was the most masterful figure there. How on earth did she ever think him a slacker?

  One of the men said something, causing him to laugh. The throaty sound reached her insides despite the distance, lodging in the center of her chest like a warm fuzzy ball.

  Delilah, annoying as her comment was, had a point. When it came to men, the more disinterested, the more attractive Chloe found them. Ian, with his sexy smile and his insistence that he wasn’t made for a relationship, fit her bill perfectly. He was exactly the kind of guy she chased.

  So why did being with him feel so different than the others?

  The question nagged her most of the day. Actually, a bunch of questions nagged her. How was it that being with Ian could feel as natural as breathing, while at the same time scare the heck out of her? Made zero sense. No wonder she’d told La-roo she needed a break from the dating world. Clearly, the whole Aiden catastrophe had left her brain fried.

  “So this is where you’ve been hiding.”

  Chloe jumped, her pencil skidding across the paper on her lap. Ian stood propped against the door frame, arms folded across his chest. As usual, her insides took a dive roll the moment she saw him.

  “Who said I was hiding?” she said, brushing some stray curls off her face. Stupid topkno
t wouldn’t hold them all. “Since you and all the other male guests were busy surveying storm damage, I figured I’d come upstairs to take a nap, is all.”

  “You always nap with a pencil and paper?”

  “Obviously, I’m not napping at the moment.” She’d tried, but her thoughts wouldn’t let her relax. “I found some scrap paper in the desk and decided to do some sketching.”

  “Really? Can I see?” he asked, stepping into the room.

  “Um...” She looked at the papers in her lap.

  What started as a sketch of the pines had turned into a series of doodled logos for Ian’s coffee shop. “Sure. Why not?”

  She handed him the designs. “For me?” he asked, surprise in his voice.

  “I was goofing around with some ideas. Nothing serious.”

  “I like them. The middle one especially. The lettering isn’t hitting me, but the concept is right.”

  “What if I...” She grabbed the paper back and quickly rounded off the letters, giving them a more fluid look. “That work better?”

  “Like you read my mind.”

  She tried not to take the comment seriously, but her heart beat a little faster, anyway. “Then your mind must be easy to read,” she told him, pushing the feeling of connection aside.

  “Funny, but my old employees never said so. Then again, I was half in the bag most of the time, so mind-reading would have been difficult.” He went back to studying the sketches.

  Chloe pulled her knees closer to her chest. It dawned on her that his honesty regarding his drinking bordered on self-abusive. “Why do you do that?” she asked him.

  “Do what?”

  “Mock the fact you had a drinking problem.” Listening to him put himself down the way he did hurt. “Shouldn’t you cut yourself a little slack?”

  “Should I?” he countered. “Have you forgotten why we’re on this road trip?”

  “Doesn’t mean you should beat yourself up.”

  He let out a long breath. “You’re a sweet kid, you know that?” Before she could protest the kid label, he sat down on the arm of her chair. “I have to mock,” he said. “It’s the only way I can get past what a bastard I used to be.”

  “Used to be,” she reminded him. “You’re not a bastard now.”

  “That’s because you’re seeing me on my good days.”

  If he meant to warn her off, the attempt didn’t work. “I still think you’re being too hard on yourself.”

  He smiled and brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. “You’d think differently if you saw the damage I caused. My list of amends is pretty damn long.”

  At least he was making amends. To her, that’s what mattered. Although she doubted he’d believe her.

  She settled for changing the subject. “You never did explain why you picked coffee for your next business adventure.”

  “I didn’t?”

  Chloe shook her head. “Care to share now?”

  “Do you want the public relations version or the truth?”

  He stretched his arm across the back of her chair. What started as his being perched on the arm suddenly turned into a crook with her nestled close to his chest. “Truth, please,” she replied.

  “I like coffee.”

  Chloe waited for the rest of the answer. When one didn’t come she started to giggle. “Seriously?”

  “Deadly. This way I can control my vice.”

  “You want control? I’m shocked.”

  He poked her shoulder. “Speaking of control, the power company arrived. They’re busy clearing the downed wires as we speak.”

  “That’s great. You must be happy.”

  “I am.” Strangely, his voice lacked enthusiasm. Chloe chalked it up to nerves.

  “Of course,” he continued, “clearing the wires is only the first step. We still need to cut the tree into sections and move it from the road.”

  “We?”

  “I convinced a couple of the other guests that if we did the work, the job would go faster than if we relied on Josef and the neighbor across the street—who, by the way, is older and about half Josef’s size.”

  Chloe laughed at the description. “Sounds like a wise decision.”

  “We thought so. If all goes right, the road will be clear by early evening. We’ll be able to head out west first thing in the morning.”

  Bringing an end to their stay at the Bluebird Inn. She was surprised at how disappointed the thought made her feel. You’d think she’d be relieved, given that, contrary to what she’d told Ian, she’d spent the day hiding from him.

  “Sounds terrific,” she told him. “Thanks for finding me and letting me know.”

  “Actually, giving you a road update is only part of the reason I was looking for you.”

  “Oh?” Drawing her knees close, she swiveled in her seat so she could look up at him. “What’s the other part?”

  “To tell you I have a surprise planned for after dinner.”

  “A surprise? For me?” Images of last night’s kisses flooded her senses, making her pulse race. “Why?” Please don’t say to make up for last night.

  “Because...” She wasn’t sure if he paused to think of the right words or if he changed his mind about answering altogether. “A guy can’t do something nice for a friend?”

  Friend. The word didn’t fit as right as it once had. Friends didn’t make her insides ache with longing.

  “Truth is,” Ian continued, “I wanted to thank you for coming along with me this weekend.”

  “We’ve already been through this. You don’t have to thank me.”

  “Stop spoiling the fun.”

  “Sorry. The gesture just caught me off guard.” After all, surprises were reserved for couples, not friends.

  “You’re supposed to be caught off guard,” Ian replied. “That’s why it’s called a surprise.”

  He grasped her chin, tilting it up until their faces were so close Chloe thought for a moment he might kiss her again. “Six-thirty in the dining room. Don’t be late.”

  Don’t be late? How could she possibly? She would be counting the minutes.

  Much to her chagrin.

  * * *

  “No peeking, now.”

  Chloe felt Ian’s lips against her ear. “Your eyes are closed, right?”

  “Sealed tight. Is this really necessary? I feel a little silly.” Not to mention anxious. Ever since Ian had mentioned an after dinner surprise, she’d been a bundle of anticipatory nerves, and now, with her eyes closed, the expectancy had her other senses hyperaware of the man propelling her forward. Ian’s hands rested on her shoulders, the pressure of each finger finding a way through her turtleneck to excite the nerves beneath. She felt his broad chest hovering behind her. She could even sense the soft knit of his sweater brushing up and down her back as he breathed.

  It was probably time for her to accept that she’d gone and done exactly as Delilah predicted: fallen for Ian. Never one to take your own advice, were you, Chloe? Much as she hated to admit it, she was hopelessly and deeply into the man.

  “Relax,” he said, mistaking her tension for self-consciousness. “No one’s here to see you.”

  True enough. As soon as the road opened, most of the guests had piled into their cars and headed home, leaving Chloe and Ian the only couple left. As a result, the two of them ate dinner with Josef and Dagmar. The arrangement only added to Chloe’s nerves, since she had to spend the entire evening pretending not to notice the knowing glances being shared around the table.

  Ian turned her body to the right. “Ten more steps,” he told her.

  “You counted?”

  “Of course. We wouldn’t want you tripping and falling on your face, would we?”

  “Ah, that means we’re heading someplace with obstacles.”

  “Maybe.” His voice appeared in her ear again, low and rough. “Then again, for all you know, I could be messing with you.”

  In more ways than one. She swore that, with every step, h
is body moved closer to hers.

  One of Ian’s hands left her shoulder, and a moment later she heard the click of a doorknob. A soft gust struck her face; a door being pushed open.

  Two steps forward and the air temperature suddenly changed, becoming warmer. Chloe heard the sound of crackling wood. “Is that a fireplace?”

  They were in the library. Last night’s kiss flashed before her, stirring a heat she was afraid to let take hold.

  “Okay, open your eyes.”

  She blinked, adjusting to the darkness. Someone had moved the furniture. Pushed the sofa and chairs toward the wall. In their place lay a large tablecloth, the bright red square spread in front of the fireplace like a picnic blanket. At the far corner, she saw a silver tray bearing a tea set and several covered serving bowls.

  She arched a brow. “A picnic?” This was a surprise. She didn’t see Ian as the picnic type, let alone a picnic by firelight.

  “Not any old picnic,” Ian replied, taking her hand. He motioned for her to sit, then reached for the tray. “I’ll have you know, by the way, I worked extremely hard on this.” Based on his grin, Chloe couldn’t tell if he was serious or making a joke.

  He lifted the first cover. Chloe slapped her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. “Oh my God, you raided Dagmar’s pantry!”

  “More like charmed her into setting this whole thing up,” he replied. “Told you I worked hard.”

  She bet. More likely Dagmar had caved at the first smile.

  One by one Ian uncovered the dishes, revealing marshmallows, graham crackers and chocolate squares. “You said you never cooked s’mores over an open fire before, so I figured...”

  He’d give her the opportunity. Chloe stared at the tray in disbelief. It’d been a casual comment, babble really, nothing more, and yet he’d listened. The men she knew didn’t care about any of her life’s details. They certainly wouldn’t go to this much trouble to help her live out a childhood fantasy.

  Attraction shifted into an emotion she couldn’t name. The strange feeling filled her chest, squeezing her lungs. Her vision blurred.

 

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