by Larissa Ione
Sean gulped his now lukewarm cocoa and cast a glance at the bathrooms. What was taking so long? The sooner he asked Robyn out, the sooner his nerves would settle down and the sooner he could stop worrying if he was still as good at hiding his jitters as he used to be.
He dragged a fry through a puddle of ketchup, and when he looked up again, his heart skipped a beat at the sight of Robyn walking toward him, her chunky-heeled leather boots clacking on the floor and adding an extra two inches to what was probably a five-foot-seven frame.
Damn, she fired him up, and he had no idea why. She was shorter and had a fuller figure than he usually went for. Her hair was darker and more simply styled than he’d always liked. Everything about her was so opposite of the plastic, made-up dolls he’d wasted time on in the past that he might as well stop taking note of it.
Except that taking note of everything about Robyn was a hell of a lot of fun.
She slid into her seat, but Karen, who, with her long blonde mane and waif-like figure was the type of woman he used to go for, had stopped to munch pretzels from one of the bowls that lined the bar top.
“Everything okay in there?”
Robyn knocked back the last half of her martini. “Fine,” she said when she finished.
Her tongue slipped out to lick the sugar from full, smooth lips that would tempt a saint, and his body tightened. Pathetic that the simple action could generate such a strong response, but at least he was feeling something other than indifference.
Clearing his throat, he glanced at his watch. He’d need to scoot if he wanted to feed Norbert and change for his appointment at the TV studio tonight, where he’d be meeting the man who held Sean’s future in his hands. “So, Robyn, what are you doing later?”
She gave him a strange, sad smile as she ran a finger over the rim of her glass and sucked the sugar off her fingertip. His blood went south and throbbed violently in his groin.
Talk about pathetic.
“I was thinking about spending the evening in bed.” Something intense flared in her eyes, and a soft blush swept over her cheeks as she dropped her gaze to her glass.
A ripple of excitement collided with a sudden stream of anxiety. Now was the moment he should ask if she wanted company. Now. The line had always worked before.
So why did nothing come out of his mouth? Maybe because the deep-rooted stab of fear he’d been living with had only grown sharper since the disaster with Jenny, and as eager as he was to get physical with Robyn, he was also terrified.
The irony that he’d plummeted down sheer cliff faces at the summit of mountains accessible only by helicopter, but felt terror at the thought of hopping in the sack with a beautiful woman didn’t escape his notice.
Unfortunately, she never gave him a chance to ask if she wanted company in her bed. “My flight did me in. I need to get to sleep early.”
He wasn’t sure if he should be insulted or relieved, but he was definitely confused. Had he misread her signals? Earlier, she’d seemed receptive to getting to know one another.
And to make matters worse, Todd was sauntering toward them like a used car salesman on a mission.
Fuck.
“Hey,” he said to Robyn. “I’m Todd. Todd Davis.” He dropped down beside her, and Sean nearly groaned. “Has my partner gotten around to asking you out yet?”
Grinding his teeth, Sean shot Todd a warning glare. “Don’t you have to go to work?”
Robyn arched a brow. “Aren’t you guys already at work?”
“We were off the clock fifteen minutes ago,” Todd replied, reaching for one of Sean’s fries.
Sean stabbed his hand with a fork.
“Ow!” Todd jerked his arm back and gave him a sullen look.
In the flickering firelight, Robyn’s remarkable eyes glowed with amusement. “I’m glad I didn’t ask for a bite.”
The temperature of Sean’s blood rose a few degrees. “You can have a bite anytime.” A bite, a kiss, a lick…
And there was the sad smile again. “Well,” she said, gathering her purse, “our room is probably ready. I need to go.”
A twinge of panic twisted his gut. He couldn’t lose her now, not the one woman who’d roused his interest for the first time in too long to think about. “Wait. Meet me for a drink tonight.”
She shook her head, probably turned off by the desperation in his voice. “Sorry. Can’t.”
Todd casually leaned back in the booth and threw an arm over the back, blocking her. “Come on. Take pity on the guy. His dry spell has lasted longer than the Sahara’s. Help him get the ball rolling again.”
If Sean could have crawled into a hole and died, he would have. The heat in his face now had nothing to do with Robyn or the fire crackling nearby.
Robyn’s lips quivered with the need to smile, and her husky voice dripped with laughter. “I’m sorry, but I’m not interested in rolling Sean’s balls.”
“Sean’s ball,” Todd corrected. “I said he’s trying to get the ball rolling, not balls.”
“You know,” Sean said in the lightest tone he could manage, “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with this conversation about my balls.”
“Or lack of them.” Todd grinned. “Chicken. Ask her out.”
“He did ask me out. I refused.” She nudged Todd with her elbow. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really need to go.”
Sighing, Todd shoved to his feet and let her scoot out of the booth. Karen joined her, and with a “See you around,” they were gone.
Sean admired Robyn’s sexy, swinging retreat. After she disappeared, he stood and socked Todd hard in the arm. “Thanks a lot, asshole.”
“What?” Todd rubbed his shoulder. “I was trying to help. You weren’t doing so hot on your own.”
No argument there. “So I’m a little rusty. And you’re still an asshole.”
“Does she know who you are?”
“I don’t think so.”
Shaking his head, Todd moved toward the door. “Then you set your sights too high. I told you she’s no lap dancer. She’ll make you work too hard for it. Find a nice groupie who wants to put a notch in her bedpost. Or pick a cougar. Take baby steps, man. Baby steps.”
“Jesus, Todd! I’m not learning how to walk.” A couple of women at a nearby table who were probably cougars—bored divorcees who hung out at the resort to snag rich, high-society men or hard-bodied, young playthings—looked in their direction, and he lowered his voice. “I don’t need a woman who wants to exchange bodily fluids but not names.”
Christ. Where had that come from? Of course he wanted an easy lay with no strings attached and where names were optional. That’s who he was. That’s who he’d always been. Nothing had changed.
He ignored the niggling voice that told him everything had changed, and caught Todd staring at him with a “you are certifiable” look again.
“It’s sex, Sean. Tab A into slot B. Humans have been doing it for thousands of years. It ain’t rocket science. Find a lap dancer and get it over with.”
Irritation at Todd’s words and his own failure with Robyn fired Sean’s blood, and he clenched his fists at his sides. More people stared now, but he was too angry to care. “Don’t go there. You have no idea what I’ve been through. None.”
That wasn’t entirely true; Todd had been at his side during the worst times of his life, but his friend rarely acknowledged what had happened, was as uncomfortable with the subject as Sean was, and used humor to cope.
Todd hung his head and took a deep breath. When he looked up, his expression was uncharacteristically serious. “I know. But the longer you wait, the harder it’s going to be.” He smirked, back to his normal lecherous self. “Pun intended.” He checked his watch. “I’m late. See you tomorrow.”
He strode off and Sean returned to the booth, where he stared at his cold burger, no longer hungry. Todd was right. He’d blown the sex thing out of proportion. Tab A into slot B. How difficult was that?
He glanced at the blonde in t
he corner and at the divorcees downing margaritas as they scanned the room for victims. Not difficult at all. A nod and a wink would get him the blonde and a friend for the night.
But dammit, they did nothing for his tab A. He wanted Robyn. He had no idea why, but he did. And since this was the first woman he’d felt so strongly about in a long time, he was going to go for it, easy or not.
From what he’d seen, she wouldn’t be easy. Funny, but somehow that thought thrilled him.
And made him question his sanity.
Robyn tried not to waddle as she stepped inside the empty elevator and pushed the button for the second floor. She and Karen had eaten dinner in the lodge’s elegant top-floor dining room, and Robyn had foolishly ordered dessert, a decadent white chocolate cheesecake with raspberry-brandy sauce. Ignoring her food guilt, because this was a vacation and she could afford to indulge a little, she was now ready to collapse into her soft, warm bed. A bed sadly empty of one sexy ski patroller.
Oh, but she could have had an amazing time with that guy. The man was made for flings. For intense, whirlwind dates, suggestive conversation, and wild, down-and-dirty, all-night sex. Moisture pooled between her thighs and her body temperature skyrocketed just thinking about it. She definitely didn’t need a soak in the bubbling whirlpool spa, where Karen had gone while Robyn gulped down her dessert.
No, she’d follow up on the calls for an auction replacement she'd made from her room earlier, and then she’d get some much-needed rest. With any luck, one of her DJ friends from nearby Denver would come through for her on such short notice. Six days wasn’t much time.
The elevator ground to a stop at the sixth-floor cafe, and the doors slid open. A man stood there, shock and disbelief playing on his pale face. Stunned herself, Robyn gaped.
It couldn’t be.
It was.
“Damon,” she gasped.
“Robyn.” He stepped inside the elevator and enveloped her in a hug as if he were happy to see her, but his tense, rigid body said otherwise. “How are you?”
It was then that she noticed the tall, svelte blonde with him. Bewildered by his presence and his reluctant greeting, Robyn wrenched away. “Did you change your mind? Are you here for the auction?”
Please, please, say yes.
She hated herself for hoping he’d save the day, but desperation had shredded her pride.
His gaze flickered to the woman and back to Robyn. “I, uh…what are you doing here?”
“Why are you here?” she asked, angry and disappointed that, obviously, he hadn’t come to fulfill his obligations. She jammed the second-floor button with her thumb, a little harder than necessary, and the doors whooshed shut. “You told me you weren’t coming. Why’d you lie?”
Damon’s distinguished face clouded with guilt, obscuring everything she’d ever found desirable. Gone was the attractive, confident charmer, and in his place was a tired show-off who tailgated on the highway and was a lousy tipper. How had she been so blind?
“I didn’t lie,” he growled.
“You told me you were canceling, but you’re standing right here! How is that not a lie?”
Shame darkened his eyes, but only for a moment. “I never said I wasn’t coming. Just that I had to cancel the emcee thing.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “This is damned inconvenient. We shouldn’t even be having this conversation. The desk clerk assured me that our rooms were across the lodge from each other.”
It was just like him to turn this into someone else’s fault. He was famous for shifting the focus with indignant anger when he’d been the one who’d screwed up.
“I’m so sorry you had to go through the hassle of asking for distance between our rooms so I wouldn’t find out you were here. But you know, I’m glad we ran into each other. Now I know what a snake you truly are.”
She turned to the slinky blonde, who wore a petulant frown, as though she couldn’t decide if she was uneasy or inconvenienced with the situation. “Good luck. You got yourself quite a guy. We’ll compare notes someday.”
He patted his shirt, probably looking for a pack of cigarettes. “Be careful, honey. You’ll find yourself out of a job.”
The elevator stopped on her floor, and a bitter laugh escaped her as she exited. “You wouldn’t.”
His hand slammed against the doorframe, holding the doors open. “Try me.”
She wouldn’t give him the pleasure. He always complained about her lack of spontaneity, so she’d show him some. “Go to hell. I quit.”
Not quite believing she’d actually said that, she started down the hall. He told the woman to hold the elevator, and then his heavy footsteps pounded on the carpet behind her.
“Robyn, wait.” When she didn’t stop, he grabbed her elbow and jerked her to a halt. “Come on. Don’t do this. I didn’t mean it.”
Shaking her head, she wrenched free of his grip. “I can’t work with you anymore. It isn’t good for either of us. We both know that. It was only a matter of time.”
He knew. She saw it in his eyes. But she also saw his bruised pride and the fact that he wasn’t about to lose face in front of the other woman, who now looked annoyed as she held the doors open. How utterly Damon.
“Are you sure this is what you want? You won’t work for Mogul Media again.”
“Excuse me?” She’d expected a sharp backlash, but not this. “You can’t do that!”
“I’m a major stockholder. I can make it happen.”
She lifted her chin. “I’ll get a job with a competitor.”
“You don’t think I can arrange it so you’ll never work in radio again? A few phone calls is all it would take.”
The desperate gleam in his eyes told her more than his words did. This wasn’t about saving face. He really didn’t want her to quit. But why?
She glanced at the woman in the elevator. The leggy blonde could be a soap opera star or European royalty—both were just as likely in a place like this—and suddenly Damon’s behavior made sense.
“Oh, my God,” she breathed. “You want to keep me around until I can get you that interview with Rolling Stone.” For someone who craved fame and fortune but had found it only on a local level, national exposure would likely be the only way he’d feel like he belonged amongst real celebs.
Stunned by the realization, she staggered back a few steps. Had she been nothing more to him than an instrument to advance his career? Ice spread through her insides as every happy memory of their relationship came into question. Had he always been after something from her? No, not in the beginning. Not until he got the job with the TV station and she’d mentioned that her friend, Brad Hardy, had been hired at the popular music magazine.
“Please don’t do this, Robyn. Don’t back out on your promise.”
“Like you did when you cancelled on the auction even though you’d planned to be here all along?” she shot back, and he didn’t even have the decency to act remorseful.
Disgusted and unable to look at him for another second, she fled to her room, with Damon close on her heels. She reached into her pocket for her key, and her fingers closed around the cold metal—a nice change from impersonal plastic key cards—just as she reached the door.
“If you screw me over,” he warned softly, “I’ll crush you.”
“Do your best. I won’t go down without a fight.”
That sounded tough, but her hand shook as she jabbed the key toward the old-fashioned door lock. She missed. And missed again. Damn it! Tears blurred her vision until she couldn’t even see the doorknob anymore. She wasn’t going to stand there like some pitiable loser while Damon and the blonde watched.
Determined to keep her dignity, she calmly shoved the key in her pocket and stalked down the hall toward the stairs without sparing either of them a glance. It was a small victory that her tears didn’t fall in front of them, but the moment she rounded the corner she could no longer hold them back. Damon’s lies and betrayal stung, but far more painful was the fact that on top of
everything, she was now jobless. Her one consolation was that things couldn’t get any worse.
Chapter Three
Things got worse.
Robyn sank down on the bench inside the spacious wooden phone booth and hung up the receiver. The dull beat of music from the Moosehead across the lobby pulsed inside her skull, aggravating the headache that was starting to throb.
She’d just learned from her mom that her parents’ bakery would be providing the food for the reunion party on Thursday night and Robyn’s help would be appreciated.
Helping wasn’t a big deal. She loved working at the bakery. The big deal was that she’d been through this before. Her parents had catered several class functions and no matter how wonderful the food, it always earned Robyn torment.
“Robyn smells like the stinky cheese in the tarts.”
“Robyn, if you didn’t hang out at the bakery, you wouldn’t be such a cow.”
“Robyn eats all her parents’ profits.”
She wrapped her arms around her middle and threw her head back against the wall. Maybe she should save her classmates the trouble and tape the “kick me” sign between her shoulder blades right now.
Someone tapped on the window in the door. Startled, she jumped up and slipped out of the booth with a mumbled apology. What now? She didn’t feel like returning to her room, and she’d already given up on whining to Karen, whom Robyn had found flirting with a guy in the Jacuzzi. Well, if Robyn couldn’t get a little tonight, at least maybe her friend could.
The sounds of laughter and clinking glasses drew her attention to the bar. She wasn’t one to drown her sorrows in alcohol, but at the moment, one or two—or ten—stiff drinks sounded like one hell of a plan.
She entered the fire-lit Moosehead and looked for a quiet, private table, but the place was packed. The only available seats were at the bar. The bar where she’d first seen Sean.
Great. She didn’t need to be thinking about him, either. What she needed was something only the bartender could give her.
She positioned herself on a stool at the far end, grabbed a drink menu…and froze when she noticed the photo of Sean hanging on the wall next to the shelves of liquor. Oh, my. He wore a sleek, muscle-defining ski suit, his arm raised in victory as he slid across a finish line. She hadn’t noticed the picture before, but boy, did she notice now.
