by Miles, Ava
Time away would give her the opportunity to conceive a new plan.
When she passed him, he grabbed her forearm in a loose grip. His touch pinged up her arm and made her lip tremble.
“You really are the most stubborn woman.”
Her chin lifted, and she pulled her arm free. “Take a look in the mirror. I’m not the only stubborn one in this office.”
With that comment, she hurried to her desk and grabbed her coat, hat, and purse, not bothering to put them on until she was outside, the cold air dousing her warm cheeks.
A few people strolled by arm and arm, nodding to her as they passed. People finally knew who she was, and while they weren’t overly friendly, they no longer stared at her like she was an exotic animal on display at the zoo. Fishing into her purse for her keys, she headed home, their argument replaying in her mind.
There were no files about her father.
She had come for nothing.
A tear leaked out. God, she hadn’t considered failing to find what she was looking for when she’d first come up with this plan, but now the bitter taste was like castor oil in her mouth. What in the world was she going to do?
More importantly, what was she going to do about Arthur’s continued kindness, his intense regard, and the continued awareness she kept telling herself was only the outcome of proximity? After feeling him hold her hand, she worried it was something more.
Whenever she looked into his deep blue eyes, it was hard to speak. Hard to remember why she was here.
And he felt the same way, but was trying to be a gentleman about it. That much she could tell.
For both of their sakes, she’d better finish what she came here to do and leave Arthur and Dare Valley as soon as possible.
Chapter 5
Harriet surveyed herself in the mirror. Her hair curled invitingly around her shoulders, and her make–up was picture–perfect. The low–cut black slip she wore would have to do.
Without the files, she had nothing tangible with which to prove her father’s innocence. But she’d realized she could still make Arthur pay.
Ruining his reputation in his hometown wouldn’t alter the stories he’d written, but it would call his character into question, and what better way to do that than to seduce him. People watched neighbor’s houses like they were watching a movie at Mulligan’s Drive–In southwest of town.
The slip was the sexiest thing she’d brought to Dare, and not intentionally. Who knew she’d decide that she needed to wear it even though her reasons weren’t in the least bit sexy? It wasn’t like she could buy anything suitable here, and it would take too long to order from the catalogue. Staying in this town any longer wasn’t an option. She would destroy him, and she and Maybelline would leave.
The radiator was sputtering again, making the house cold, and her white robe wasn’t cutting the mustard. Her bare feet were freezing as she walked to the phone. After all, who wore socks to seduce a man? The glass of brandy she’d poured earlier still had a splash inside, so she downed it. The fire burned from her throat to her belly, but it didn’t loosen the knots in her stomach.
Lying to Maybelline had been hard enough, but she still had to get through tonight. Thank God she’d managed to talk Maybelline into going to Denver to withdraw more money from the bank account they’d opened there. Paying cash for everything had reduced the stash she kept in the cereal box in the cupboard. She’d suggested her sister do a little shopping while she was in the city and then spend the night, since it would be dangerous to drive on the icy roads in the dark. Maybelline missed city life terribly, so she had been all too eager to agree.
Harriet poured herself another glass of brandy. The bottle was an unknown vintage from the local liquor store. She snorted at the memory of how the shopkeeper had raised his eyebrows at her while he rung her up. Maybe it would give her the boost she needed to pull off her first seduction attempt. Her stomach fluttered, thinking about kissing Arthur and having him touch her.
It was fear, she told herself. Not attraction.
There was no way she was attracted to the man who’d ruined her father and her family. She just couldn’t be.
Would Arthur really go for what she had in mind? And when it came right down to it, could she go through with it? Could she really have intimate relations with the man who’d destroyed her father?
If it would hurt his reputation as a community leader in his hometown, then yes, she could. He had to pay for what he’d done to her family.
Another bead of arousal quickened in her belly, and she told herself again it was only fear.
For heaven’s sake, she just needed to call him already. The clock’s short hand had just ticked past nine o’clock.
The phone beckoned, so she dialed the numbers for Arthur’s party line. This would be her first step in setting him up. People gossiped all the time about what they heard on the phone. Since his house was out of town, she wondered how many people were on his party line. Six? She and Maybelline shared theirs with four neighbors, and even though they’d been assigned a unique ring like everyone else, they never heard it. There was no one to call them.
“Arthur?” she asked when he answered.
“Harriet?”
A palpable pause.
She waited to hear a click from someone else picking up on the party line. This was one time when she hoped her neighbors would snoop, especially since she and Maybelline never received any calls.
One click sounded and then another, and she smiled. Inquiring minds…
“Is something wrong?” Arthur asked. “It’s a bit late to be calling.” Even on the phone he sounded gruff.
Right, and she had never called him. “I know, and I’m sorry. There’s something moving around in the attic, and I’m afraid an animal might be up there. Can you come check it out? I’m scared to look myself.”
There was another pause, and for a minute, she was sure he wasn’t buying it.
“Might be a raccoon,” he finally said, “or a squirrel.”
“Or bats,” she added. She’d overheard a man telling a story about finding three of them in his attic the other day in the American Legion post while she and Maybelline were eating hot roast beef sandwiches.
“Great. So, my choices are something flying at me or biting me if I come and check.”
Yeah, when she thought about it, who would show up for that? “Don’t worry about it then. I’ll just…”
And she let her voice trail off like she’d heard her mother do time and time again to get her father to agree to something.
“No, it’s okay. Does it sound like it’s really big?”
Laughing seemed inappropriate, but she still felt like it. Heck, what a question.
“Small, I think,” she said, not wanting him to be too alarmed.
“Let me call a buddy and have him come over and help me.”
“No, wait,” she said, and then stopped herself from rushing. It hadn’t occurred to her that he might ask for backup, and her heart sped up just at the thought. “I don’t want you bothering anyone at this hour. I just want to know what it is. I can lock my bedroom door once you leave tonight, and if you find something, you and your buddy can come over to take care of it in the morning.”
Silence again.
“Where’s your sister?”
“She had to go to Denver for some shopping and didn’t want to drive home at night.” Her heart pounded in her chest as a few seconds ticked by without a response.
Then a terse, “Fine. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Go into your bedroom and lock the door until I get there if you’re scared.”
“Okay, and thank you, Arthur. I just…didn’t know who else to call.” Fortunately, he didn’t ask why she hadn’t called her landlord.
“That’s fine, Harriet. We’re all neighborly around here. See you soon.”
And with that, he clicked off. Three more clicks sounded after his.
She hung the phone back on the receiver and moved into the family room. Took
another drink.
Well, the trap was set, and the only person getting trapped in it was Arthur.
She didn’t care what happened to herself anymore.
***
Arthur rapped on Harriet’s front door for a minute, but when she didn’t answer, he realized she might be too scared to leave her bedroom. It wasn’t like a raccoon, squirrel, or bat could open the attic door. But fear wasn’t a rational thing.
He turned the knob and found the door unlocked.
“Harriet,” he called out as he entered.
She didn’t appear, so he walked into the mostly dark house and decided against hanging his coat on the brass rack on the wall since the attic would be freezing. When he entered the family room, the hardwood floor squeaked in places as he moved. He’d never been in old Mrs. Kennion’s house, but the soft glow from the antique brass lamp was kind to the house’s age. Still, the plaster walls had a few cracks, the lace curtains were brittle and yellowed, and the mauve settee looked faded from too much use. Fortunately, the house didn’t smell. He’d heard tall tales about the many cats she’d owned when she died, anywhere from ten to twenty, and how she’d regularly served them red Jell–O as a treat.
He called her name again, and finally heard, “Up here.”
So she was holed up in her bedroom after all. Funny how the knowledge tightened every muscle in his body and swept a wave of heat from head to toe, making him wish he’d chucked his coat. Knowing it was a stupid idea, he headed toward her room. It was on the way to the attic, after all. Part of him, the unprofessional part, wanted to see where she slept. See if the hyacinth fragrance he always smelled on her skin was more intense there.
He’d tried not to fantasize about her and failed miserably.
The floor squeaked as he walked up the stairs. The red floor runner was also worn in spots.
The door to her bedroom opened when he appeared on the landing, but he didn’t see her. Just saw the faded brass frame of a bed in a yellow–painted room, a pink velvet bedspread pulled back like at a fancy hotel.
He moved to the doorway and froze.
She stood on the other side of the bed by the window, dressed in a black slip that highlighted her creamy shoulders and pert nipples. Her red hair was down for once, curling around her shoulders. Those slumberous green eyes didn’t blink as their gazes met.
His heart fell like a downed tree in his chest, and he felt the impending crash reverberate throughout his body.
She was every man’s fantasy, and it took a moment for him to dial back the lust slamming through his body. After the way she’d acted toward him since the moment they met, this situation couldn’t be more confusing.
“I should have known something was off the minute I found your door unlocked,” he commented, trying to find his balance. “Charlie from across the street said you always lock it.”
She licked her blood–red lips, and a punch of arousal shot straight into his gut. “Right, and no one locks their doors in Dare.”
“No,” he replied, not taking another step into the room. “Harriet, what are you doing?”
The hand she raised to her chest was shaking. “I would think that’s obvious.”
He looked at the floor and stared at the seams in the hardwood. Anything to keep his eyes off this goddess with fiery hair and moss–green eyes. If he looked at her, he’d never be able to resist her.
“I don’t know why you’re doing this. You don’t even like me, and you sure as hell don’t want me,” he said.
“You’re wrong,” she said, and the floor squeaked, signaling she was making her way toward him from across the room.
When her slender bare feet appeared in his vision, he shook his head and met her gaze. “There’s nothing in the attic, is there?”
“No.”
For hell’s sake. She was acting like some Mata Hari, and he was just a regular guy.
He ran a hand through his hair. “Harriet, I’m going to leave now, and we won’t speak of this again.”
When he turned to leave, she flew in front of him, her hand cutting off his exit like a rail bar at the railroad track south of town. “No. Stay.”
Part of him wanted to stay, wanted it more than he’d ever wanted anything, but he had too much respect for her to let this play out. “If you really do like me, then we’ll go out on a proper date. I’ll take you to Nellie’s Tavern, and we can get to know each other better, but I am not just going to be with you like this. I have more respect for you than that, and frankly you’re too much of a lady to be acting this way. Plus, we work together.”
She ducked her head to her shoulder and gazed at him with pouty lips. “Don’t you wonder why I acted like I disliked you so much? I was attracted to you from the first, Arthur, and I’m tired of pretending otherwise.”
His body corded with tension. “Well, this is one heck of a switcheroo, and I’m more than a little embarrassed to say it’s too fast for me.” Even if he’d been in New York, he would have been surprised by a woman acting so forward.
She slid close to him, and the hand she’d used to prevent him from leaving fell to his chest. “I want you. Don’t you want me?”
He closed his eyes for a moment, fighting the temptation, but also listening to his gut. He’d been with a few women in New York, and their voices hadn’t sounded all business–like when they told him that they wanted him.
Harriet’s did.
He opened his eyes, trying to disconnect from the situation, to use his powerful observational skills. Yes, her pulse was hammering in her neck, and her breathing was rapid, but her eyes looked a bit too wild. And then he smelled the liquor on her breath. Okay, so she was nervous.
“Why, Harriet? Why now?”
“Because I’m leaving soon, and I want to be with you before I go.”
Her green gaze didn’t falter, so he knew there was truth in what she said. Well, he’d known she was only passing through. She wasn’t meant for these parts, as out of place as fancy Italian gelato at an ice cream church social.
“You’re giving me your notice now? Like this? I told you before that I’d help you with whatever you’re running from. You can trust me, Harriet.”
Her lip started to tremble, and he could see how vulnerable she was now. Her fear reached out to him.
“I can’t,” she whispered, and then she rose on her tiptoes and crushed her mouth to his.
He didn’t take their kiss any further for a moment, but then she gasped, and he knew that sound for what it was. Proof that she was attracted to him, just like she’d said, confirming his hunch about those few powerful moments in the office when he’d felt her watching him before she pretended otherwise and turned away to file.
Succumbing to the feel of her in his arms was the most natural thing in the world. He bent his head so their lips could meet more easily. God, her body was all soft and curvy and more sensual than he’d ever imagined. Her hyacinth fragrance curled around him like fog as he took her lips in a deeper kiss, changing the angle of his mouth. When his tongue parted her lips, she went rigid in his arms, like she hadn’t kissed too many men. Which is what he’d thought from the start. This was no experienced sexpot. This was a deeply conservative lady. The realization brought him back to his senses.
“Enough,” he said and gently pushed her away, his hands on her shoulders, the bones small and delicate under his touch. “I don’t know why you’re doing this, but you’re not this kind of woman. Tell me right now that you’ve been with a man before, and remember that if we make love, I’ll damn well know.”
Her eyes flickered back and forth like she was thinking. “Fine, I haven’t been with a man before, but I want to be with you.”
He thought about touching her intimately to test her words, but that would be crude. His hands lowered to his side. “No, you don’t want to be with me. I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I’m not going to be part of the biggest mistake of your life. And mine. Did you even consider pregnancy? For crip
es sake.”
Her eyes widened, and he fought the urge to curse something really shocking. “Get dressed. I’ve stayed a little too long for this time of night, but we can stick to the cover story you’ve so conveniently spun. I’m going to get Charlie from across the street and pretend to have him help me catch the squirrel I saw in your attic. When I knock on that door downstairs, you’d better be dressed. Do you hear me?”
His voice was gruff, but he didn’t care. He was aroused and being lied to by a woman he cared about, one he was attracted to, pissed him off.
“Don’t you want me?” she finally said, crossing her arms over her chest as if suddenly ashamed of herself.
“I would think that’s fairly obvious. Now, I’m going to get Charlie. You have about two minutes to get dressed and get your butt downstairs.”
Then he turned around and rushed down the squeaky steps. As he walked across the street to Charlie’s house, the curtain fluttered. Yeah, the old bachelor had been watching Harriet’s house all right. He knocked on the door. Charlie opened it slowly, his eyes disapproving.
As Arthur went through the story about the squirrel, which Charlie probably knew about from listening in on the party line, the old man started to relax, laughing right along with him about the animal’s made–up antics. He even slapped Arthur on the back as they walked across the street.
“Thanks for the help, Charlie. Harriet’s all woman when it comes to vermin, so she’s no help.”
“Glad her sister’s not here to be worried. She left earlier today. Denver, she said.”
“Harriet mentioned that,” Arthur commented, thinking about how well she’d laid her trap. The party line listeners would have been enough to spread the gossip, and his late night visit would have been all the more damning since the neighbors knew her sister was out of town. He was dealing with a calculating Black Widow gowned in nothing but a lacy black slip, and he didn’t like the web she was weaving for him. No, not one bit.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to bring my BB gun?” Charlie asked.
“Nah,” he said, wanting to roll his eyes at this charade. “We can catch it in a bed sheet and knock it on the head with Harriet’s rolling pin.”
