Rachel laughed. “That’s the most nontraditional holiday fare I’ve ever seen. Sure. Give me one.” She shifted her flute of champagne to her left hand and stabbed a mouthwatering-looking shrimp with a red toothpick.
“Mmm,” she said, chewing. “Good. Really good. We might want to serve these at the wed—” Her train of thought left her the moment she spotted Libby’s brother, Mac, opening the door for the newest arrival.
A Sentinel Passtime cast member, she assumed, swallowing a sigh of disappointment along with her shrimp. The tall, well-built stranger was definitely not from around here. As he handed Mac his expensive-looking black wool coat, she noticed his suit. A gray so dark it could almost be classified as black. It hugged his wide shoulders as if it had been sewn for him.
She was about to ask Char if she thought the man might be wearing Armani, but decided that sounded ridiculously shallow. Instead, she polished off the remainder of her shrimp.
Chewing, she continued to study the new arrival. There was something commanding in the man’s look, his manner, his gaze. Which he turned on her, almost as though he’d been looking for her.
“Oh,” she inhaled in surprise and all too sudden comprehension, remembering too late her mouth was full of half-masticated shrimp.
Char gave Rachel a few whacks on the back. “I suppose choking is one way to catch a man’s attention,” she joked. “Who is that guy? Do you know him? He looks like an actor but I don’t remember seeing anyone that handsome around.” She made a face of pure horror. “Wait. What am I saying? Eli’s that handsome and then some. And if you tell him I was drooling over a gorgeous stranger, I will make sure Santa leaves a lump of coal in your stocking.”
“He’s not a stranger,” Rachel whispered, after swallowing with considerable difficulty. “That’s my date.”
“Your date? I thought you were waiting for Rufus?” Char asked, puzzled.
“I am.” Rachel nodded, trying to act cool, despite the heat flushing through her every corpuscle.
She watched the conflicting emotions of bafflement and incredulity play across her friend’s face. “That’s Rufus Miller?”
The band chose that moment to take a break and normal chatter went mute as people turned to watch Rufus walk across the room. His gaze left Rachel’s long enough to bow politely to Char. “Happy holidays, and congratulations on your recent engagement. Rachel told me the good news.”
Char got over her obvious shock quite quickly. “Thank you, Rufus. I understand congratulations are in order for you, too. Rachel told me your site has had a gazillion hits and you’re selling Dreamhouses like crazy.”
“Thanks to Rachel.” He looked at Rachel again with the most inside-out, depths-of-your-soul look she’d ever received. She had no idea what to say but she had to say something.
“You cut your hair. You didn’t have to. I told you not to. I feel like such a jerk. You must hate me.”
He didn’t say anything for a minute then he smiled. His grin of amusement that did crazy things to her equanimity. “It was time. The hairdresser said my split ends had split ends of their own.”
She couldn’t stop herself. She reached up and touched his bare jaw. “And you shaved. I thought maybe the beard was hiding something. Like a weak chin, but you’re handsome, Rufus. Really, surreally handsome.”
The twinkle in his eyes seemed to imply that the joke was on her. Was she simply slow to see something everyone else had always known? A flash of pique made her add, “Why am I always the last to know these things?”
Before he could answer, her brother grabbed her arm. “Hey, Rae, I need you a sec…whoa. Hold on. Rufus?” Jack’s mouth dropped open far enough to see his perfect orthodontia. “Holy cripes. Man, you clean up good. Who’d have known?”
Jack had met Rufus formally the week before when he helped Rachel move into her new office space. His surprise quelled a bit of Rachel’s anger, but she still felt unsettled. Why did a gorgeous, healthy, vital young man—shaving his beard had taken a good twenty years off his overall appearance—bury his beauty beneath layers of plaid? She didn’t get it. And she was half-afraid to hear the answer.
“Your sister asked me come as her date. I figured that meant a haircut was in order.”
“Well, you look great.” Jack’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And kinda familiar. Have we met? Before Sentinel Pass, I mean.” He tossed up his hands. “Oh, hell, how’s that possible, right? I’ll stop babbling now. Can I get you something to drink?”
Rachel started to say that he didn’t drink, but Rufus answered first. “Red wine.”
“Red it is. Rachel? A refill?”
She shook her head. “Later. Thanks. What did you need me for?”
Jack waved off the question. “Mom was looking for you, but she’ll find you sooner or later. Especially once she hears you brought a date.” He grinned broadly. “This is gonna be good. Finally, a break from the scrutiny.” He paused to shake Rufus’s hand. “Thanks, man. You’re a lifesaver. I mean it.”
Rufus had a feeling he knew what Rachel’s brother meant by the last comment. The more he heard about Jack and Rachel’s mother, the less he liked her. But he reminded himself not to jump to conclusions.
“I didn’t think you drank,” Rachel said softly.
He hadn’t planned on it, but the moment the door closed behind him, he’d felt a familiar fluttery sensation in the pit of his stomach. Nerves. Until he spotted Rachel.
Tall, willowy, self-possessed. Her glitzy red cocktail dress clung to her every curve. She was gorgeous. But more important, she was real. A beautiful security blanket for an insecure man who traditionally hid his insecurities behind an oversize ego and too much booze and drugs.
He could tell his new look surprised her. Shock and awe, Marianne would have said. And for some reason, she seemed a bit peeved. As if he’d pulled some elaborate hoax on her.
He leaned close enough to keep the conversation private. “Don’t forget. You’ve seen me naked.”
Her beautifully made-up eyes widened. She surprised him by not having a quick comeback. Maybe she wasn’t as perceptive as he’d thought. That was disappointing, and meant he was in for a long evening.
“So,” he said, trying to recall some of his old conversational tricks from back in the day, “who are all these people? I recognize a few from town, but—”
“The three men by the refreshment table talking to Jack are Jenna’s fiancé, Shane, Libby’s brother, Mac, and Morgan’s agent, William.”
Rufus didn’t believe in stereotyping people, but early in his career he’d learned a vital lesson: read people or be eaten alive. The men she pointed out seemed relaxed, confident and successful. They were comfortable in their skin. He was envious. And conflicted. He’d actually enjoyed shaving that morning. Getting a haircut had brought back a wealth of memories—more good than bad. Dressing in clothes from his old life had felt surprisingly exciting.
His dogs had sniffed around him at length. Rat-Girl had acted as if he’d killed her old master and buried the body somewhere. Maybe he had.
Lifting up slightly on the toes of her four-inch patent leather pumps, she said, “Kat’s boys are around here somewhere.” She smiled and nodded. “There. By the tree. And Megan is with them. See that darling little girl in the fancy dress? The woman beside her is Mac’s fiancé, Morgana Carlyle. She goes by Morgan when she’s around friends. And there’s Libby. Can’t miss her.”
Rufus knew Libby. She’d been kind to him when he first moved to Sentinel Pass and he was pleased to see her looking so happy…and healthily pregnant. She acknowledged him with a bright, welcoming smile.
He half tuned out the rest of Rachel’s play-by-play of attendees. He meant to listen, but over the past few years he’d learned to listen to senses other than hearing, and he felt a powerful force headed their way even before the bodies around them parted for the older woman in four-inch heels and a high-neck black wool dress with a dramatic V of bright gold buttons.
; “Here you go,” Jack said, thrusting a wineglass in his hand. “Gotta dash. The boys need me.”
Rufus knew a fake excuse when he heard one. Jack’s true goal was to stay under the radar of the woman bearing down on them. Rachel had her back to the crowd, but Rufus saw her jolt to attention the instant the woman said, “Rachel, I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Rachel’s eyes were wide, but Rufus couldn’t read what she was thinking. Her lips pulled to one side for a moment, but the rueful gesture was replaced almost instantly by a smile as she turned around. “Hi, Mom. I was hoping you’d find me so I could introduce you to my date, Rufus Miller. Rufus, this is my mother, Rosaline Treadwell.”
His gut told him everything he needed to know even before he touched the woman’s hand. Powerful, controlling and, at the moment, unhappy. “Ma’am,” he said, bending slightly. He didn’t bother laying on the charm. She’d surely see right through him.
“You’re Rachel’s one and only client, aren’t you? I’ve warned her about mixing business and pleasure.”
Rachel made a coughing sound. “Really? Was that before or after you introduced me to Trevor? Your bank’s hired spokesperson.”
“You weren’t doing business with him, dear. I was.”
Rachel might have said more but a robust flurry of bell ringing suddenly filled the air. “Could I have everyone’s attention a moment?” Libby said from her perch on a low stool. Her husband, Cooper Lindstrom, the blond, easily recognizable television star, hovered nearby, a fretful look on his classically handsome face. “Coop and I wanted to thank you all for coming on such short notice. When Gran was alive, the holidays were always jam-packed with parties and good friends. Thanks for helping me to keep her tradition alive.”
Everyone clapped, except Rufus and Rachel’s mother.
“Also, my heartfelt thanks to the band, Crooked Still, for stopping off in the Hills on their way home for the holidays. What a fabulous present from my amazing husband.” She planted a kiss on Cooper’s lips, then added, “Speaking of gifts, thank you all for bringing these fabulous gifts for the toy drive. Santa should be here any minute to take them away and put them in the hands of children who will love them.”
After another round of applause died down, she pointed to the gaily lit tree a few feet away. “We also thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your amazingly generous donations to the causes of your heart.”
Cooper leaned over and snatched an envelope from a branch to hand her. “Each one of these will help someone somewhe—” Her emotions got the better of her and she reached in the pocket of her maternity sweater for a tissue.
Cooper pulled her close and finished her sentence. “Someone somewhere will appreciate your generosity so very much. This envelope alone holds a check for a thousand dollars. We know how tight the economy is and we didn’t expect to see this kind of giving.”
Rufus’s heart rate sped up the instant he recognized his handwriting and the name on the envelope. But, thankfully, Cooper kept his promise to leave Rufus’s name out of any public acknowledgment.
“It was probably from Shane,” Rachel’s mother said. “I think he’s rich. What’s unusual is not taking credit for the gift. I don’t understand anonymous donations.”
“Whoever it is has his or her reasons, Mom.” Rachel looked at Rufus when she said this, as if guessing that the check might belong to him.
Rufus could have sent his check off to Stephen’s House without going through the Lindstroms’ gifting tree, but the day he overheard Rachel discussing the charitable project with Char, he’d changed his plan. Why? To impress Rachel’s friends? If that were the case, then why insist on anonymity? He didn’t have an answer.
“Do you speak?” her mother asked him bluntly.
He gave her his full attention. He could see where Rachel got her beauty, but Rachel’s features were softer and more approachable. “On occasion.”
“What sort of occasion? If not at a party like this, why bother coming?”
“I twisted his arm, Mother. So you wouldn’t feel sorry for me and try to fix me up.”
Rufus offered his arm to Rachel. “And you’re right, Mrs. Treadwell. I’ve been remiss in my socializing. If you’ll excuse us, I should greet our host and hostess.”
Rachel looked surprised by the gesture, but she didn’t hesitate to accept. Rufus’s sixth sense told him her mother didn’t like him. Not one bit. And that actually made him quite happy. The old Rufus would have automatically sought to change her opinion. Thank God he wasn’t that person any longer.
RACHEL STOOD IN THE DOORWAY of the kitchen and sipped her glass of water as she watched Rufus charm his miniature audience. He’d removed his tie an hour or so earlier and opened his pristine white shirt collar a few buttons. She didn’t understand why she found that glimpse of flesh so provocative, but she did. So much so, in fact, she’d made up an excuse about needing a drink of water simply to give herself some breathing space.
“Your date seems to like children” a voice observed. Rachel started. Her mom-radar must have malfunctioned.
“They seem to like him, too,” Rachel returned cautiously, wondering where this conversation would lead. Nowhere good, she was sure.
“I wonder why that is?” Mom said. “Perhaps because he’s a bit…simple.”
Rachel put the glass to her mouth and forced herself to drink. It was that or scream. And she couldn’t scream because her father never would have allowed it. The man worshipped his wife and let her get away with all sorts of small cruelties.
“You’re basing your judgment on what? A two-second conversation?”
“I asked around. People who drop out of society, as he did, usually do so for a reason, Rachel. Do you know what that reason is?”
No. “He’s my client, Mom. I’m on a need-to-know basis, and his personal life is something I don’t need to know—as long as he pays my bill. I invited him tonight because I thought his business would benefit from the local exposure.”
Rachel was pleased by how logical and composed she sounded. For a minute, she thought her mother bought it.
Mom shook her perfectly coifed head. “Don’t kid yourself, Rachel. You’re attracted to him. And, with good reason. He’s quite handsome. But I thought you told me you’d learned your lesson where handsome men were concerned. I believe your exact words included hook nose and bald.”
Rachel set her glass on an antique sideboard then crossed her arms. “I may have said something to that effect, but, Mother, surely you’re not labeling all handsome men as cheating scoundrels who can’t keep their dicks in their pants. I could point out half a dozen hunks in this room—including your son—and each one is a faithful, trustworthy and decent human being who loves his wife and knows how to honor his marriage vows.”
“There’s no reason to be crude, Rachel. All I’m saying is you need to look beyond the superficial. You have a tendency to jump in to everything with both feet. In a relationship, by the time you discover how shallow the man is, something’s broken.”
Rachel gave her mother credit for creating an apropos metaphor. She’d been fighting an attraction toward this man since that first day. But what did she know about him? She hadn’t known he was drop-dead gorgeous. Or good with kids. Or even that he owned a suit.
“There you are,” a deep voice said, taking both women by surprise. Rufus leaned in and brushed a quick, micro-kiss on Rachel’s lips. “Sorry. Those kids are great. Jordie reminds me of my little brother when he was that age.”
Rachel had to fight to keep from touching the spot he’d kissed. “N-no problem,” she stuttered. “Mom and I were catching up. She’s just returned from Florida.”
“Florida,” he said, reaching up to touch his ear. “I used to own a condo in Miami.”
His obviously unconscious gesture made her realize something was different between his right ear and his left. She didn’t have time to dwell on the fact because she could tell by her mother’s skeptical snort that
Mom didn’t believe him.
Escape, her brain cried. They needed to leave now before Mom said something really humiliating. “Rufus, if you want, we could take off.”
He smiled at her, warmly, then lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. She was almost certain her knees weren’t going to hold her, but then he turned to Mom and said, “Not yet. I haven’t had a chance to talk to your mother. I spotted a quiet nook near the stairs….”
There was a hint of “I dare you” in his tone, and Rachel had never known her mother to walk away from a challenge.
Mom passed Rachel her highball glass—Jack Daniel’s neat. “Very well.”
As polite as any gentleman she’d ever met, Rufus escorted her mother out of sight. Rachel took a sip of the booze in her mother’s glass, despite the fact she hated whiskey.
“What’s going on?”
Coughing slightly, she glanced to her left to find her brother and future sister-in-law peering out of the kitchen. “I don’t know. Mom and Rufus are talking. I’m pretty sure neither is armed, but you might want to put your finger on 9-1-1 speed dial just in case.”
Jack laughed, but Kat seemed concerned. “I didn’t even recognize Rufus at first. I had no idea he was so handsome. Jack’s a little jealous, I think. Probably all the men are, but he doesn’t seem to have eyes for anyone but you, Rachel.”
“He’s only living up to his side of our bargain.”
Kat and Jack exchanged looks. “Pardon?” Kat asked.
“I hired him to be my date, Kat. Five hundred bucks. Well, two-fifty for tonight. The balance is to be my date at your wedding. So Mom can’t carry on about what a loser I am.”
Jack frowned. “You gave him money?”
“Not yet. We’ll probably work out a trade.” Jack’s frown deepened. “Wait. That didn’t come out right. What I meant is I’ll credit the party against my hours updating his site.”
“That sounds fair,” Kat said, her tone anything but convincing.
Rachel shrugged. “He wore Armani. That has to be worth something, right? I know Mom was impressed even if she’d never in a million years admit it.”
Until He Met Rachel Page 12
