by Linda Turner
There was nothing to worry about, she told herself. He was just running late, as usual. He’d never been very punctual and had probably just gotten a late start. Or run into rough weather along the way. He wouldn’t, of course, think to call her—he never did. It didn’t seem to enter his head that she might worry.
“This time I won’t,” she promised herself aloud. “He’s a big boy—he can take care of himself. And it’s not as if the world’s going to end if we don’t eat dinner on time. Nobody’s punching a clock. Everything’ll stay warm on the stove until he gets here.”
He was, she figured, bound to be coming in any moment. But another thirty minutes passed, and no plane landed at the dusty runway a half a mile from the house. Standing at the dining room window, she watched the sun sink in the west and twilight settle over the station, and she’d never felt lonelier in her life.
He wasn’t coming.
Deep down in her heart, she knew it, but she still didn’t want to believe it. He wouldn’t just stand her up on her birthday and not even call. There had to be another explanation. Maybe he really was in some kind of trouble.
Alarmed at the thought, she hurried into the study to call him. Snatching up the phone, she punched in the number to his cell phone and waited for his voice mail to come on. Instead, her father himself answered the phone. “Hello?”
Surprised, Lise nearly dropped the phone. “Dad?”
“Lise! I’m glad you called.” All business, he said, “I’m expecting some information from a telecommunications company I’m thinking about investing in, and I want you to forward the information to me in London. I’ll be at the Savoy.”
“You’re on your way to London?”
If he noticed the surprise in her voice, he gave no sign of it. “My ETA is ten,” he said matter-of-factly. “You should be getting the information I need in tomorrow’s mail. Fax it to me as soon as possible. I’d like to tie everything up by Monday.”
Obviously, he wouldn’t be home in time for dinner—or to celebrate her birthday. He didn’t even mention it. He couldn’t have hurt her more if he’d reached through the phone to slap her. Why? she wanted to cry, but she had too much pride to let him see that she cared any more than he did. “Of course,” she said stiffly. “I’ll fax it as soon as it comes in.”
He gave her a few more instructions about several other business matters, then reminded her again how much he needed the information on the telecommunications company he wanted to add to his arsenal of businesses. Not once did he ask her how she was doing personally or mention the station and the upcoming roundup. Ending the conversation with a brisk, “Call me if you don’t get the package tomorrow,” he hung up without even a goodbye.
The dial tone buzzing mockingly in her ear, Lise couldn’t have said later how long she stood there, dazed, with the phone at her ear. This wasn’t the first time he’d treated her so coldly—it wouldn’t be the last. She should have gotten used to it by now, but she hadn’t. It still hurt every single time.
Angry with herself for caring, she slammed the receiver down onto the base. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” she muttered. “Yeah, right.”
The nightly poker game was loud and boisterous, and Steve was holding his own with Nate. They each had a pile of chips in front of them that would see them through the night if the game went on that long, and Steve had to admit that as far as work went, it didn’t get much better than this. When he got through with this assignment, he just might make a trip to Vegas. He was feeling lucky.
His gray eyes twinkling, he watched Nate lay down three eights and chuckled as the other boys groaned in defeat. “Not so quick, old man,” he said with a broad grin as Nate started to reach for the pot. “I believe that belongs to me.” And with that said, he laid down three tens.
“Son of a gun!” Nate growled. “Damn you, Yank, you did it again!”
“Yep,” he said, chuckling. “A couple of more hands like that and it just might make up for all the times I lost to you tonight.”
“I want to know when the rest of us are going to get a little luck,” Chuck grumbled. “I’m running out of chips.”
“Waah,” Nate teased, imitating a baby’s cry.
Sore losers weren’t tolerated, and the others quickly joined in the teasing. “Crybaby. What’s the matter? You want to call your mama? I bet she can beat the Yank and Nate with one hand tied behind her back.”
Blushing to the roots of his hair, Chuck had the grace to apologize. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—I wasn’t accusing anyone of anything. I just…”
Digging himself a deeper and deeper hole, he was floundering for a suitable explanation when there was a sudden knock at the door. Surprised, everyone looked at each other, but before anyone could rise to their feet to answer the door, Lise pushed it open and stepped inside carrying a chocolate cake.
“Hi, guys,” she said with a bright smile, not even blinking at the poker chips spread out on the table. “I won’t stay. I just thought you might like something to munch on during your game. I hope you like chocolate.”
Setting the cake right in the middle of the poker table, she flashed everyone another smile, and before anyone could say so much as thank-you, she was gone, hurrying out without another word.
In the dazed silence she left behind, no one moved a muscle. Then Frankie blurted, “Was that Lise?”
“She was wearing a dress!”
“And her hair was twisted up all fancy.”
“I’ve never seen her dressed up like that, and I’ve been here ten years! Did somebody die?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Barney scoffed. “Did she look like she’d just gotten news somebody died? She was smiling, for heaven’s sake!”
Reeling, Steve hardly heard them. Working with Lise day in and day out over the last week, he’d thought he’d known what to expect from her. She never flirted, never dressed suggestively, never did anything that might lead her men to think of her as anything other than a sexless boss. Until tonight.
Staring at the door she’d disappeared through, Steve felt like a man who’d just been run over by a truck. From the moment he’d met her, he’d thought she was one of the most attractive women he’d ever met, but attractive didn’t begin to describe the lady when she was dressed to the nines in a dress. Lord, she’d looked magnificent. The blue silk of her dress had exactly matched the color of her eyes and had molded her figure in a way that still had his mouth watering. And then there were her legs. No woman had a right to have legs that went on forever. She wasn’t model-thin, but what man would want her to be? She had curves, the kind a man longed to touch, and tonight, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that she’d haunt his dreams.
But even as his mind began to tease him with images of her seductively approaching him in his sleep, he couldn’t forget her smile when she’d presented him and the others with the cake. At first glance, it appeared normal enough, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized something wasn’t quite right. He’d seen her real smile, and it was nothing like the strained one she’d clung to as she’d rushed out the door. And unless he was very much mistaken, her eyes had been dark with pain. Someone had hurt her, and he didn’t have to ask who. Simon. She’d obviously been waiting for the bastard all day, and he’d never shown up.
Silently cursing him, he pushed to his feet and growled, “Excuse me. I need some air.”
Heading straight for the house, he expected to find her in tears somewhere, crying her eyes out. Instead, she was in the kitchen, dumping what looked like a perfectly good baked chicken in the trash.
A wise man might have backed quietly out of the room and left the lady alone until she’d calmed down. Steve, however, stood just inside the door and said quietly. “Are you all right?”
Turning to the sink, she slipped the empty baking dish into hot, soapy water and never spared him a glance. “I won’t be using the computer tonight. It’s all yours.”
“Would you like to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Sometimes it helps.”
“It won’t change anything.”
Steve had to agree with that. “It doesn’t matter if it changes anything if it makes you feel better.” When she only sniffed, he crossed the kitchen to join her at the sink and help her with the dishes. “Does this have something to do with your father?”
Her mouth compressed into a flat line, she reached for the scouring pad and began to scrub the baking dish, determined not to say a word. But the hurt and resentment building up inside her were too much, and suddenly, the words came tumbling out in a rush. “He promised to be here for my birthday, so I went to all this trouble, and where is he? On his way to London! He didn’t even call to tell me he wasn’t coming. I don’t think he even remembered. And it hurts, dammit! I just wanted him to spend one lousy birthday with me. Just one!”
To her horror, tears suddenly welled in her eyes, and her voice cracked with emotion. She knew if she didn’t get out of there right then, she was going to cry. And that was the last thing she wanted to do in front of Steve. She already felt too vulnerable where he was concerned. If she fell apart in front of him, she’d never be able to look him in the eye again without remembering that.
“Excuse me,” she said thickly, quickly turning away. “I forgot something in the dining room.”
She took two steps, but that was as far as she got. He moved like lightning, and in the next instant, she plowed right into him.
“Steve!”
“Easy,” he murmured, gently closing his arms around her. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”
Fighting tears, she should have stepped back while she still could, but it was already too late for that. His arms felt so strong and sure around her, and she couldn’t hold back her tears any longer. They spilled over her lashes and trailed down her cheeks, and she didn’t have the strength to fight them anymore. She hurt too badly. With a broken sob, she buried her face against his chest and cried.
“That’s it,” he murmured huskily, tightening his arms around her. “Just let it out, sweetheart. It’s okay. There’s nobody to see but you and me.”
Later, she couldn’t have said how long she cried. She couldn’t seem to stop. Time and again over the years, her father had disappointed her, and she’d always told herself it didn’t matter. She was wrong. It did.
Hurt, she pulled back to look at Steve in confusion. “Why does he treat me this way? I’m his only child, but he acts as if he couldn’t care less about me. Am I that unlovable? Or am I just being unreasonable, expecting him to drop everything and fly halfway across the world to celebrate my birthday?”
“Would you do it for him?”
“Of course,” she said simply. “If I had the chance. Especially for a milestone birthday. I turned thirty today.”
And the bastard hadn’t even bothered to put in an appearance. No wonder she was so upset. She was his kid, for God’s sake! How could he treat her with such total disinterest?
He wanted to tell her then that she was wasting her time crying over the man—he obviously didn’t have a heart—but she wouldn’t listen. She loved a man who didn’t exist, and Steve knew the best thing he could do to help her was to put the son of a bitch in jail. In the meantime, he could give her something to think about.
“Let me get this straight,” he said with studied casualness. “You’d fly to God knows where for your father, but if you expect him to do the same, you think you’re being unreasonable. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Well, no, not exactly,” she said, hedging. “It’s just that he’s so busy—”
“And you’re not?”
“Of course I am, but—”
“But you don’t think you’re lovable,” he finished for her. “That’s what you said,” he said when she opened her mouth to object. “And I don’t know why. Don’t judge every man by your father. You’re a wonderful person. Surely you know that.”
He’d only meant to make her feel better. Instead, he made her cry again. Tears blurred her eyes and spilled over her lashes, and he felt like a heel. Without a thought, he reached for her. “Oh, honey, don’t.”
He told himself he was just going to hold her until she stopped crying, but holding her this close was wonderful. He should let her go. But he couldn’t. Not yet. Not when he only had to lower his head the slightest degree to kiss her.
With a will of their own, his eyes dropped to the sensuous lines of her mouth, and just that easily, temptation stirred. It seemed like he’d been wanting to kiss her from the moment he’d met her. Giving in to the need, he leaned down and covered her mouth with his.
An experienced man, he’d thought he knew what to expect. It was just a first kiss, just a taste. It shouldn’t have been anything more complicated than that. But the second his lips touched hers, nothing was quite that simple. Heat sparked between them, setting nerve endings sizzling, and suddenly, he felt like a teenager again, kissing Mary Jo Patterson for the first time. Awkward and hungry, he didn’t know what to do with his hands.
Her head reeling and her heart thundering in her breast, Lise told herself she had to stop this before it went any further. She was his boss, and she didn’t go around kissing her cowboys! It just wasn’t done. But instead of pulling free of his arms as she should have, she found herself clinging to him instead. And she loved it. No man had ever made her feel so small before, so cherished, so feminine.
It was wonderful, exciting and far more dangerous than anything she had ever imagined. Even as she realized that she wanted nothing more than to melt in his arms and give herself up to the magic of his kiss, alarm bells clanged in her head. What in the world was she doing? He was a cowboy, an employee, someone she’d known only a week, for heaven’s sake! She didn’t even know if she could trust him, yet she was already more attracted to him than she’d ever been to a man in her life. And that scared her. How had he gotten past her defenses so quickly?
Swallowing a sob, she stepped back while she still could. “Don’t! I can’t—”
He made no attempt to reach for her again, but dropped his arms and took a step back. For once, there was no teasing in his gray eyes as they met hers. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he said huskily. “You just looked so sad and unhappy and it’s your birthday. I’m sorry. I just wasn’t thinking.”
She’d secretly hoped he was as attracted to her as she was to him, but that hope died a swift death with his words. He’d only kissed her because he felt sorry for her. Hurt, she found herself fighting tears all over again, but her bruised pride wouldn’t let them fall. Straightening her shoulders, she accepted his apology with a smile that didn’t come easily. “It’s okay, Steve. Don’t beat yourself up over this. I’m not offended.”
“Are you sure? You’ve had a rotten birthday, and I just made it worse. Why don’t you let me finish up the dishes? If Cookie won’t mind,” he said hurriedly. “It’s the least I can do. You can go watch TV or take a bath or something. You know…relax.”
If the day hadn’t been one disappointment after another, she might have done just that and spent what was left of the evening reading the new mystery she’d bought when she and Steve were in Roo Springs. But the last few hours had been an emotional roller coaster for her, and she was exhausted.
“Thanks for the offer,” she said huskily, “but that’s not necessary. And not because Cookie would mind—he’s pouting because I wouldn’t let him cook my birthday dinner for me. He’s already gone to bed, so I’m just going to let these things soak overnight.”
Hanging the dishcloth on a nearby rack, she checked to make sure that everything else had been put away, then sighed. “I’m really tired. I think I’ll go to bed, too.” She started to step past him, then added, “I meant what I said about the computer, Steve. Use it as long as you like.”
Quietly wishing him good-night, she slipped out of the kitchen and hurried up the back stairs to her room.
Left alone, Steve couldn’t
believe it. Ever since Lise had started letting him use the computer, he’d had to constantly look over his shoulder every time he stepped into the study. Frustrated, he’d begun to wonder if he was ever going to get the chance to search the place in peace. And now Lise had practically handed him her father’s secrets on a platter. He should have been doing cartwheels down the hall. Instead, all he could think of was that moment when he’d pulled her into his arms and kissed her like there was no tomorrow. It was a moment that would haunt him for weeks to come.
Need clawing at him, he found his imagination wandering upstairs to find her. She wouldn’t be in bed yet, but probably changing into her nightgown. It would be something simple and chaste that wouldn’t even hint at the passion in her. He could see her now….
Suddenly realizing that he was standing in the middle of Simon’s kitchen fantasizing about his daughter when he could be searching his study, he swore softly, cursing himself for a fool. Idiot! If he wanted to dream about Lise, he could do it after he’d completed his mission and helped put her father in jail. She would, of course, have nothing to do with him once she realized he was the one responsible for Simon’s downfall, but he couldn’t worry about that now. His loyalty was to SPEAR, not Simon’s daughter.
Disturbed that he had to be reminded of that, he made his way to the study on silent feet and quietly slid the pocket doors shut. They didn’t offer him much security, since he didn’t dare lock them, but they didn’t open as easily as a swinging door. If anyone so much as touched them, he could be seated at the computer and diligently searching for a cure for the fictional Turkish virus before the doors slid open.
Satisfied that he was as secure as he could be considering the circumstances, he quickly went to work, starting first with the computer and the financial file he’d discovered yesterday when Lise walked in. It only took him a matter of seconds to find it again, but the receipts he’d discovered yesterday didn’t make any more sense today. They were for a cabin that had been built well over twenty years ago at the station. Simon’s name wasn’t mentioned anywhere, but Steve didn’t doubt that he’d had the cabin built—probably as a temporary home until the main house had been built. In all likelihood, the structure had been torn down years ago.
