As she listened to him now, relating a story about a thief who got caught with his pants down, she couldn't help thinking fondly of how many times he'd made her laugh. Despite his intense drive to succeed, Cole had always had a fun side, a way of making her relax, forcing her to let go of the little worries that drove her crazy. Cole had understood her like no one else had. He'd respected her ambition to be a doctor, her need to achieve and make something of her life, because it was a need he shared, too.
Unfortunately, their ambitions had begun to collide even before Emily's death. With ten years of distance and clarity, Natalie saw now that Cole had begun to think their love was an obstacle to what he wanted. As single-minded as he was, he couldn't believe that they could make it work. At least, that's what she thought. She didn't really know for sure exactly what had gone wrong. There had been no real "break-up" conversation where accusations or complaints had been hurled, where they'd cleared the air. Instead, their relationship had soured slowly like a carton of milk sitting out too long, until Emily's tragic death had tipped that carton of milk over. Then the accusations flung had been all about Emily and not about each other.
"You're not listening," Cole said.
"Sorry," she said, wondering what she had missed. "I was daydreaming."
"About anything interesting?"
For a split second she thought about asking him why it had all gone wrong. Then the waiter brought their check and began clearing their plates, and the opportunity was lost. It was better that way. They had to solve the Emily problem before they could do anything else. Not that she wanted to do anything else, she told herself hastily. She just wished Cole had grown some warts or gotten fat or started losing his hair instead of turning into one of the most attractive men she knew. She got some money out of her purse to pay her share of the bill, but Cole insisted on taking care of it.
After the waiter had brought Cole's change, they walked out to the front of the restaurant. She was turning toward the car when Cole's hand grabbed hers. His touch was warm, insistent, and oh so familiar. She tensed as he said, "Wait."
"What's wrong? Did you forget something?" she asked, pulling her hand away from his.
His eyes narrowed as she dug her hands into her pockets, but he didn't comment. Instead, he said, "Let's take a walk. I need to work off that burrito."
And she could use some cool air blowing in her face before she sat down next to Cole in the quiet intimacy of his car. It was ridiculous to be so affected by a casual touch, to be so aware of a man's sexuality. She'd seen hundreds of naked men in her work as a doctor and not been remotely interested, but this man got to her, and he wasn't even trying. She really needed to get out more.
They strolled along the Embarcadero, which was filled with tourists and locals enjoying the unseasonably warm October weather. The scents of flowers and fresh fruit wafted through the breeze as they passed by an open air market in front of one of the docks. It would be winter soon, but now there was nothing but sun and a cool, refreshing wind coming off the water.
She did love this city. Like the song, she'd left her heart in San Francisco a long time ago. That's why she'd come back. She'd lied when she'd told Cole it was because of the opportunity to work at St. Timothy's. She'd actually had better offers from a medical point of view, but the chance to live and work in San Francisco had been too tantalizing to resist. Maybe she couldn't share her life with Cole, but she could at least share his city.
They paused a few moments later to look at two sailboats racing across the water. "That's the life," Cole said.
"Do you sail?"
"I've been out a few times on the bay. My uncle has a yacht."
Of course his uncle had a yacht, another reminder that they never had moved and never would move in the same circles. Not that Cole was a snob. She couldn't put that black mark against him. Arrogant, overconfident, possessive, bossy, impatient, yes, but a snob, no.
"What about you?" he asked. "What do you do in your free time? I know you don't have much, but you must have some."
"I run every day if I can, or I try to get to the gym."
"What about the movies?" he asked with a smile.
He'd remembered her fondness for old movies and foreign films. For some reason that really touched her, and she couldn't help smiling back at him. "I went to an Italian film festival last weekend, all subtitles and very romantic. You would have hated it."
"I'm sure I would have. Now give me a Star Wars marathon, and I'm there."
"You always did prefer action and adventure."
"I always did," he muttered, as he started walking again.
They were almost to the Bay Bridge when he stopped and pointed upward. "Do you realize this is the second bridge we've stood under today?"
She looked up at the gray steel structure, which wasn't nearly as pretty as the Golden Gate. In fact, there were scaffolding and drapes along one side of it, part of an ongoing earthquake retrofit program.
"Maybe it's a sign," she murmured. "A bridge between the past and the present."
"That one just goes to Oakland."
"You know what I mean." Her hair blew across her face as the wind decided to play. So did Cole. He pulled several strands away from her mouth, which wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't stopped to take a good, long look at her lips. She swallowed at the intent in his eyes. "Cole, you don't want to do what you're thinking—"
"I don't think I can stop myself."
"You should try."
"You're not moving away." His eyes met hers. "And you probably should."
"I'm stuck."
"You have choices," he said, repeating her earlier words. "The right ones aren't so easy to make, are they?"
He didn't give her time to answer, his mouth fitting hers perfectly, his kiss insistent, determined, passionate, everything that was Cole. His hand cupped the back of her head, drawing her into the heat of his mouth. She put her hands against his chest to push him away, but instead her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. She could feel the muscles of his chest bunching beneath her hand. He was so solid, strong, powerful. She was losing herself in him, and she wasn't even fighting. She should be fighting. But he tasted so good, like the past, like the best days of her life, like everything she'd ever wanted. When he finally lifted his head, she felt breathless, dizzy, heady with the taste of him still lingering on her lips.
His dark eyes glittered with desire when he looked at her. He still wanted her.
Did she still want him? She was terribly afraid the answer was yes.
But he couldn't erase all the bad stuff with a kiss, could he? Was she that weak? "You shouldn't have done that," she said, finally taking a step back. "We were over a long time ago."
"That's what I thought, too."
And now he wasn't sure? What would she do if he wanted to start things up again?
"We should go." She turned around and walked back the way they'd come. The silence between them was no longer easy and carefree, but tense and awkward. She felt confused and unsure. What did Cole want from her? Why had he kissed her? Pure sexual attraction? Chemistry? Did it just boil down to that? Or were the memories mixed in? Were the old feelings coming back for him as well as for her? She kept her gaze lowered to the ground beneath her feet, not willing or able to put a voice to any of those questions.
Finally, they reached the car, and she couldn't stand the silence a second longer. Ten years ago she wouldn't have had the guts to take him on, but she wasn't a foolish young girl anymore. "Cole—what's going on? What do you want from me?" she asked, looking him straight in the eye.
He stared at her for a long minute. "I don't know what I want anymore. Nothing is as clear as it used to be."
"I'm not sure it was ever clear, even before Emily died. We never came right out and said what we were thinking."
"You're right," he conceded. "But as you said before, it's too late now."
"And as you said before, is it?"
* * *
"You cam
e back." Dylan looked up as Madison strode into his office just after six o'clock in the evening, looking like a million bucks. She'd changed her clothes, now wearing a black evening dress and knee-high black leather boots. Her long blond hair framed her beautiful face and lustrous brown eyes. She was a man killer, and he was in trouble. He wasn't surprised she'd come back. She'd always been a spoiled brat. When she wanted something, she thought she should have it. It didn't matter whether or not she deserved it.
Still, he had to admit he admired her stubborn persistence. Sometimes he'd wished that Emily had stood up for herself more, especially where her family was concerned. Not that he was comparing Madison to Emily; there was no comparison.
"You knew I'd come back," she replied with confidence.
"I suppose you have another proposition for me.
"I suppose I do." She cleared off a chair in front of his desk, dumping a pile of papers onto the floor.
"Hey, I need that stuff."
"So get a secretary. This place could use some organization."
"What do you want, Madison?"
She crossed her arms and legs, the latter action revealing a generous portion of thigh. She wanted him to look, and he did just that. She was hot. No doubt about it. She was also dangerous.
"I want..." She paused, long enough to make him tense. "I want you to do..."
Me? His mind filled in the blank while her smile widened and a flirtatious expression flashed through her eyes. She was definitely playing the bad girl at the moment. And he had to admit she was very good at it. His body hardened in pure male appreciation.
"My party," she finally finished. "I want you to do my party."
"I told you I wasn't interested," he said, irritated with himself for reacting to her.
"I think I can get you interested. And I have a bargaining chip."
He didn't want to ask, but he couldn't help himself. "What's that?"
"Cole. He doesn't know about your lust for his little sister, does he?"
His chest tightened. Damn her. How did she know about that? "I don't know what you're talking about."
She leaned forward, and this time his eyes were drawn to her breasts. They were full, generous, spilling out of her top. She certainly knew how to distract a man. "I think you do know," she said. "Emily was one of my best friends."
"Some friend you were. You didn't even stay—"
"For the funeral—I know. We've been over that. But it doesn't change the fact that Emily confided in me. Especially when it came to sex."
He knew she used the word deliberately, but he wasn't sure why.
"Emily couldn't talk to Natalie; she was way too judgmental and too closely connected to Cole, your best friend. And Laura was busy trying to get Drew on the hook. But me..." She shrugged. "I was around. I saw things."
She'd always been around, as Dylan recalled. In fact, she'd put the moves on him a few times when Emily wasn't looking, but he'd never been interested in her. At twenty-one, he'd had eyes only for Emily, beautiful, sensitive, passionate, joyous Emily. His heart still ached at the loss of her in his life. But in many ways she was still with him. The club was a tribute to her imagination, her belief in magic, her belief in him, that he could create a world where people could be whoever they wanted to be.
"I want to make a deal with you," Madison said. "You work my party, and we keep your infatuation with Emily between us."
"I don't give in to blackmail. Tell Cole. What do I care?"
"Oh, I think you care. Or it wouldn't still be a secret. And it is a secret. It's not even in that book about Emily." She stood up and walked around to where he was sitting, sliding between him and the desk.
He cleared his throat, feeling decidedly uncomfortable. "You're going to try to seduce me now?"
Madison ran her tongue across her lip. "I'm saving that for later. She wasn't enough for you, Dylan. If you'd ever opened your eyes and really looked at Emily, you would have seen that you were not right for each other."
"Don't say a word about Emily."
"I wouldn't dream of it. Work my party, Dylan. It will be good exposure for your club. And a chance for the two of us to get better acquainted. I was never as bad as you thought I was."
He laughed at that. "I don't believe that for a second. Look at you now, a blackmailer as well as a—"
"Don't say something you'll regret," she warned, a flash of steel in her brown eyes.
"Why is my working your party so important to you?"
"I told you. I want you to get to know the real me, and I think we will both get something out of this professionally. It's a win-win proposition."
"You're a piece of work. I'll give you that."
"I'll take it." She crossed her arms, sending him a thoughtful look. "Is there a woman in your life now? Someone I should know about?"
He was both amazed and annoyed by her bluntness and implicit belief that she could control whatever was happening between them. "I don't have to tell you that."
"Which means there isn't. Or there wasn't. Because I'm here now."
"You don't take no for an answer, do you?"
She leaned forward, her mouth just an inch away from his, and said, "I haven't heard a no yet."
* * *
"Where the hell were you?" Drew demanded.
Laura paused in the doorway of their bedroom, her good mood fading at the sight of Drew's angry face and the open suitcase on the bed. "I took the girls to a concert in the park. They loved it."
"Well, while you were gone your old friend Natalie dropped by with Cole Parish."
"Really?" She was shocked to hear that. Natalie had been friendly the day before but certainly hadn't appeared overeager to take up their friendship where they'd left off. "I'm surprised."
"Not as surprised as I was to find out you spent time with them yesterday, discussing this book that's been written about Emily."
"You know about the book?"
"Your mother called me three days ago."
"My mother called you," Laura echoed, wondering when his sentences would stop hitting her like bricks on the head. "Why didn't she call me? Why didn't you tell me? I didn't find out about the book until Brenda brought it to the book club meeting Friday night."
"I didn't have time. I was busy at work. And your mother wanted my legal opinion on the situation."
"Which is what?"
"At the moment, nothing. But here's what you're going to do," he added. "You're going to screen our calls and our doorbell. I don't want you to talk to Natalie or Cole or anyone else connected to the sorority house or this book until I know more about what's going on."
She didn't like the way he was ordering her around. He'd been doing that a lot lately, treating her like she didn't have a brain in her head. "What are you afraid of?"
"What you should be afraid of—the press and the public finding out that you're the Linda in the story. I'm just lucky my name isn't in there."
And why isn't it? Laura couldn't help wondering how Drew had escaped attention. Everyone else was in the book. She watched as Drew pulled socks out of his drawer and stuck them in his suitcase. "Is there some sort of legal action we can take to stop the publication?"
"Nothing that wouldn't involve a public battle. Malone was clever. He covered his tracks by using fictitious names. We'd have to prove the characters were real people, and we'd also have to prove damages to those real people, providing, of course, that what happened in the book is false and not true. And I'm not sure it isn't true."
She frowned at that. "You think Natalie pushed Emily off the roof?"
"It's certainly possible."
"I don't think it is." And she was shocked he could think it was.
"You always had on blinders when it came to those girls." He zipped up his suitcase. "Just stay out of this, Laura. Do what you do best: keep the house and take care of the kids."
"That's not all I'm good for," she said defensively. "Seeing Natalie again made me remember that I once wanted ot
her things. Like playing the flute. I was pretty good, you know."
"Okay," he said, obviously not getting her point.
"If you want to teach the girls how to play the flute, go for it."
"I don't want to teach the girls. I want to play the flute myself."
His cell phone rang, and he immediately answered it, never minding that they were in the middle of a conversation. "Val. I've just finished packing. Oh, good. You're the best."
Laura's stomach churned at the affection in her husband's voice. She knew she was becoming insanely jealous of Val, but she couldn't help it. Drew looked at Val and saw a beautiful, intelligent, exciting woman. He looked at her and saw his predictable, uninspiring wife, who was only good at taking care of the house and the children. If he wasn't having an affair yet, she had the terrible feeling he was dangerously close to taking that step.
"Drew, why don't I go on this trip with you?" she said impulsively. "I'll call my mother. She'll watch the girls for a few days. It will be fun."
"Are you nuts? This is a business trip. I have meetings all day and in the evenings, too. I can't take you along."
"A lot of men take their wives on business trips."
"Not if they want to actually conduct business."
"Is Valerie going?"
Drew picked up his suitcase. "Valerie is my business associate. If I need her in L.A., that's where she'll be. End of story. Now, I've called a cab, so I'll say good-bye to the girls and wait outside." He moved past her, stopping briefly to kiss her on the forehead.
"Drew..." She hesitated as she looked into his eyes. She had the strange feeling that he wanted her to ask him if he was having an affair, that he wanted her to open the door to a conversation she wasn't sure she was ready to have. Her marriage might be floundering a bit, but did she want to end it? Did she want to say something she might not be able to take back? "I hope your trip is successful."
"I'm sure it will be," he said as he walked out the door.
Laura sat on the bed for a long couple of minutes, feeling lost and confused. Her afternoon in the park had made her feel joyous and carefree. Those emotions were now gone. She wanted them back. She'd once been so happy with Drew, and he'd been happy with her. Where had the love gone? Had it disappeared completely? Had she changed? Had he? Could they get the love back?
Summer Reads Box Set, Books 4-6 Page 66
