A Holiday Romance, page 8
“Humph. My time’s not over yet.”
“I can see that.”
He’d stopped and looked at her—in an intriguingly thoughtful way—but she kept walking, putting a skip in her step as she whirled around to face him. She called, “I’ve got to run! I’ve got another lesson before the sunset trail ride,” while continuing to move backward, without looking, without knowing, for once, exactly where she was headed.
CHAPTER SIX
Sunsets on the Sonoran Desert arrive in spectacular colors. Free shows nightly.
July 26
Hi, Dody and Dylan and Danny!
Greetings from Arizona. Yesterday I went riding in the desert on a horse named Loco. Loco is Spanish for crazy, but luckily he’s not and we got along fine. At sunset, we stopped to roast hot dogs and marshmallows over a campfire. Then we had a singalong with a cowboy who played the guitar. This afternoon is rock climbing! I’m having a great time, but I miss all of you a lot, and your dad, too.
XOXO,
Aunt Alice
“MAY I HELP YOU, MA’AM? Are you looking for something special?”
Alice faced the salesclerk, a girl too young to look so polished. “Not quite this special.”
Everything on the racks seemed to demand a gold or platinum card, but Alice was strictly a standard-issue creditor. “I’m looking for something casual, but slightly dressy, you know? None of the new things I brought with me seem right.”
“What’s the dress for?”
“Dinner.”
The girl’s gaze swung to the expensive racks.
“An informal dinner,” Alice said firmly. “At least I think so. I know we’re not going to any of the hotel restaurants.” Denver had been definite about that, probably because they weren’t supposed to go out together at all. “There might also be dancing.” He’d mentioned music.
“Country music? Line-dancing? That sort of thing?”
“Probably, but I don’t know for sure.” Alice lifted her shoulders. “You see the problem. I need a nice, versatile outfit.” She cast a longing look at the slinky, sexy, expensive garments. Denver was the casual type, but maybe if it’d been Kyle who’d asked her out…
“Separates might be the way to go.” The clerk’s gaze traveled up and down Alice. “Size six?”
“Eight.”
“Skirt or pants?”
“Probably a skirt. I’m afraid pants wouldn’t look right if he takes me to a nicer place.” Except that Denver seemed like a beers-at-the-bar kind of date. What would she do if he showed up in jeans?
Thirty minutes later, after much debate, the clerk had solved Alice’s dilemma with a pair of dressy black pants, a matching lightweight cardigan in case the air-conditioning was chilly and a tank top the color of a purple pansy. A delicate beaded design at the neckline added a touch of sparkle.
While folding the garments into tissue, the clerk’s eyes lighted on a display of strappy sandals with impossible heels. “What about footwear?”
The amount on the register’s digital readout was already frighteningly high. Alice shook her head. “No, thanks. I have sandals.” Low-heeled, which was necessary. The group trail ride and then yesterday’s beginner rock-climbing outing had given her a new set of sore muscles. Even a long walk around the grounds that morning hadn’t completely unkinked her. Perhaps because she’d spent half the walk parked on benches in the shade.
“Jewelry?”
“This is fine.” She pulled out her credit card, promising herself that there’d be no other large charges. The traveler’s checks she’d brought along would have to suffice, even if that meant she’d have to forgo her journey through the entire dessert menu.
Walking out of the boutique with one of the signature shopping bags bearing the Prince Montez crest made Alice feel as if she truly belonged among the high-class clientele. She swung the bag gaily, too busy goggling at a coterie of new arrivals to watch where she was going.
She bounced off an older woman’s solid body. “Sorry!” Alice said, turning so quickly she stumbled. Her shopping bag fell, spilling everything she’d bought across the tiles.
“Let me help,” said the woman she’d bumped into.
They knelt and gathered the packages. The woman lingered over the beaded top before refolding the tissue. “Nice threads. Got a date?”
Alice nodded.
“I’m Lani. Kyle Jarreau’s secretary.”
“Yes, I remember.” Alice offered her hand. “Alice Potter.”
Lani looked across the lobby at the boutique, one of several upscale shops in the complex. Her lips pursed. “I shouldn’t say this.”
The back of Alice’s neck tingled.
Lani gave a quick glance over her shoulder. “I love the boutiques here, but their markups are ridiculous. You’re better off shopping in Phoenix or Scottsdale.”
“I didn’t want to take the time. I’m going out—” Alice had followed Lani’s last glance “—tonight.”
Kyle was there. Suited up and talking in serious tones with a couple who reeked of privilege. A bellman wheeled past a cart loaded with Gucci luggage worth a schoolteacher’s annual salary.
For a second, Kyle’s eyes skimmed across Alice. His expression and posture didn’t change. She might have believed that he hadn’t noticed her at all if not for the hot-and-cold shiver along her spine.
“Fast work,” said Lani.
Alice tore her attention away from Kyle. “Me?” She blushed. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“I’m serious. There aren’t a lot of single available men around this joint, especially this time of year. Believe me, I’ve looked.”
“I’ve noticed the lack,” Alice said, relieved. “Younger men, that is, like under seventy.”
“All too soon that won’t be a deterrent for me.” Lani touched her silver-streaked black curls. “Too bad the staff is off-limits.”
“Yes,” Alice said, uncertain if the secretary referred to herself.
“Who’s the lucky guy?”
Gulp. Alice didn’t have the nerve to tell Lani a lie, even if she’d been able to come up with one. Did she dare tell? Denver hadn’t said they needed to keep the date a secret. “Oh, well, it’s…Denver.” She searched her memory. “I guess he never said his last name. But you must know him. The cowboy who works in the stables?”
“Denver.” Lani blinked. “Sure, I know him.” She looked at Kyle. “Interesting. I wouldn’t have thought he’s your type.”
“I don’t have a type. Denver asked me to go out for dinner and maybe listen to some music, so I said yes.” In fact, he’d turned his full charm on her during the trail ride, to the point of a fireside serenade. She’d been flattered and had said yes, even if that meant Denver would be flouting company policy.
She could ask Lani not to tell, but Denver was a big boy. He knew what he was doing.
So did Alice. The taboo lent an air of danger to the date, which played right into her new persona.
“I realize he’s a cowboy Casanova,” she said, to get that much straight. She wasn’t naive. “I’m not expecting anything except a good time.”
“Of course. I understand, even if some people might not.”
Although Lani didn’t look at Kyle again, Alice knew he was the someone. But why? Was it the fraternization rule that they were so obviously flouting, or was Lani hinting that Kyle really would be jealous?
Alice preferred the latter.
Laughter built up inside her. At home, she’d never have encouraged two men at once. The only playing with hearts she’d done had been card games with her mother.
Kyle had concluded his conversation. He caught Lani’s eye. “You have fun,” she said to Alice, giving her a wink. “I’ll be discreet.”
Discreet? Alice opened her mouth, but all that came out was “Uh…” There was no way to say that she hoped to make Kyle consider her as more than a guest. On the other hand, she didn’t want to get Denver into trouble.
“Must run,” Lani said. “The boss probably has a list of special requests from Mr. and Mrs. Fancypants.”
Alice fumbled with the string handles of her shopping bag, holding off from looking at Kyle again until he and Lani had reached the elevators. She didn’t want to see the professional distance in his eyes. Or worse, disinterest.
But she needn’t have worried. He didn’t even glance at her.
She turned away with a sigh. There was always Denver, and her new clothes. But somehow the gloss was gone from the evening out. Kyle would disapprove, but only professionally.
KYLE DIDN’T give in until the end of the day. With deliberate intent, he strolled to the outer office and sat himself on the corner of Lani’s desk. Nothing odd there. They often wrapped up the day that way, going over tomorrow’s agenda. Lani would tell him what she’d planned for her evening and twitter at him about the emptiness of his own.
“So,” he said, fiddling with his tie, “did you find that particular brand of sparkling water Mrs. Symon requested?”
“I did. Imported from the Swiss Alps at about a jillion dollars per case. It’s being couriered from Phoenix as we speak, gently cradled in a bed of chipped ice.”
“Good work.”
“I’m afraid the genuine Arctic ice was a no go.” Lani smiled serenely and handed Kyle a letter to sign. He used her pen to do it, leaning on one arm, looming ominously above her as she folded the letter and slipped it into an envelope.
“Something wrong?” she asked.
He drew back. “What makes you think that?”
“You didn’t even read the letter.” She sniffed. “One typo in three years and still you always read every word.” She applied a stamp and dropped the letter into the out basket. “But not this time.”
“That was a lapse. It won’t happen again.”
Her eyebrows rose. “I hope not. I might get the idea that you trust me.”
“Lani—”
“Stuff it.” She poked at his thigh. “What’s on your mind, boss?”
“Nothing. Oh, maybe the Symons. You know they’re in tight with several members of the board. Including Walmsley, the head of the review committee. Their stay must be perfect. The wife is already bitching because she hates being here in the off-season.”
“The staff is fully informed and on the case. The princess won’t feel a single pea through her hundred-thousand-thread-count sheets.”
He looked around the office. “So.”
Lani tapped a shiny nail against her chin. “So?”
“Oh, hell.” He stood. “Go ahead, get out of here.” He raked his hand through his hair. “Have a good night.”
He thrust his fists into his pockets and stood there glowering while Lani made her preparations to depart. He would’ve sworn she took twice as long as usual.
“I couldn’t decide if I should tell you,” she said finally, turning back from the door. “But Denver has a date.”
Kyle recoiled, as if she’d landed an unexpected uppercut. “Denver? Why are you bringing him up?”
“Isn’t that what was on your mind?”
“You know it wasn’t.” Dread leached beneath his skin. “Wait. Why are you telling me that?”
Lani’s voice went soft and quiet. “The date’s with Alice Potter.”
“THAT WAS FUN.” Alice slipped her hand out of Denver’s and surreptitiously wiped her sweaty palm on the jacket wadded in her lap. She could have blamed the heat, but she knew she was nervous because of the man beside her. He’d been touching her all evening: stroking her hair, tracing a finger along her collarbone, holding her close, holding her hand. Holding her attention because she’d never been out with a man as handsome and glib as Denver.
The attention amused her. Even aroused her. But it was too much for her to handle.
“I don’t get out dancing very often,” she confessed. They were returning to the resort from Scottsdale.
“You did fine.” Denver took his eyes off the road and flashed her a grin. “Once I got a couple of beers in you.”
That was true. Worrying about getting caught breaking the rules had made her stiff and uncomfortable until the alcohol had loosened her joints. If she hadn’t stopped at two, the touching and squeezing might have been more welcome. Even returned. As it was, the thought of the moment when he’d try to kiss her was melting her into a puddle of uncertainty.
She wanted his kiss, and yet she didn’t.
Alice tilted her head back, trying to find a draft. The air-conditioning was on, but it didn’t seem to put out more than a tepid stream. Denver might play a cowboy for the guests, but he drove a well-used Ford Fiesta, not a pickup.
“I don’t drink a lot, either,” she said.
“Damn, girl. What do you do?”
“Let’s see.” Life on the island seemed very distant. “I bicycle and bird-watch. I read a lot and hold game nights and movie nights for friends and family. I garden a bit. I’ve been collecting shells since I was a kid and sometimes I make artsy-craftsy things with them that I sell at the local gift shop.” She squinted an eye at him. “Not very exciting, is it?”
Although Denver withheld comment, she could guess his opinion. He’d been greeted at the bar by a crowd of rowdy revelers. Throughout the evening, tales of his cussin’, drinkin’ and fightin’ had flown fast and thick.
“Got a boyfriend back home?” he asked.
“Two of them. But nothing serious.”
His shoved his straw hat to the back of his head, surprised at last. “Two?”
“My nephews. Dylan and Danny.”
Denver laughed. He took his hand off the steering wheel and reached for hers again.
She evaded him by tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’ve been wondering. What happened to your cowboy accent?”
“Whatchew mean, li’l missy?”
“Uh-huh. That’s what I thought. Was it all an act, even the rodeo stories?”
“I entered a ro-day-o contest once on a dare. Stayed on the bronc for an entire three seconds. Broke my damn collarbone.”
“What about the cattle roundups? Where’d you learn the campfire songs?”
“I played guitar in a few honky-tonks in my day, so the songs were no trouble. The rest was acting.” He wasn’t at all abashed. He tossed her a boastful look. “Damn good, ain’t I?”
“I guess.” Even though she’d suspected the truth, she couldn’t help being disappointed.
“Aw, honey. You’re disillusioned.”
The way he said honey made her feel as if she were spread with it. “I suppose you’re not from Texas, either.”
“Nevada. We lived in a lousy little mining town up in the mountains.”
“Who’s we?”
“Mom and Dad. My brother and sister.” Denver wiped his face. He sported a five-o’clock shadow that gave him a becoming rough-and-tumble look. She supposed that was also carefully cultivated. “The old man would park us in a run-down shack he’d won from some geezer on a bet, then hit the road, looking for his big break.”
“Did he ever find it?”
“We had some good times. Some not so good when Mom had to scramble to feed us.” Denver shrugged. “But I don’t blame the old man. I leave that to my big brother.”
“You sound as though you sympathize with your father. Maybe even admire him.”
He gave her that sneaky grin again, sneaky because it slid in under Alice’s skin even when she didn’t want it to. “I’m a rolling stone myself.”
“I’ll bet you’ve been in a few scrapes.”
“Some. I’ve been in lockup. Never got into trouble so bad that I was sent to prison, though.”
“Oh.” Now she wondered how bad a boy he was. And why he was interested in her. There’d been a lot of women after him tonight. Floozies, her mother would have called them. Big hair, big boobs, big appetites for Denver.
“What’s your last name?” she asked.
“I go by Lawless.”
She laughed. “Fitting. But what’s your real name?”
“Lawless is real enough for now.” He recaptured her hand. “Why so many questions, sweetheart?”
“Just trying to get to know you.”
He dipped his head, keeping his eyes on the pavement, but his knowing smile sent her senses spinning. “Allie, darlin’. There’re much better ways of doin’ that.”
KYLE KNEW he was as conspicuous as hell, pacing back and forth in the shadowed loggia outside of condo building two. There hadn’t been a lot of activity since nightfall, but the few folks who had passed by had stared so hard he thought their eyeballs would fall out. Several blinds had parted and curtains had lifted in neighboring windows. He’d waved.
He checked his watch. Time to give up. Denver might keep her out all night. And he didn’t need another night of insomnia.
Still, he stayed. Thinking how he’d never lost sleep or got particularly jealous with other women. Not even Jenna.
How come Alice had him so fired up? He’d told himself he was here to put a stop to Denver’s rule-breaking, but that wasn’t the entire reason. Alice was like a sliver under his skin. Unnoticeable at first, but slowly working deeper. He’d be rid of her when she went home, but until then…
Finally a car turned in, Denver’s battered Ford, rolling past the parking lot to the bricked courtyard that served as a convenient drop-off and pickup area. The engine sputtered and died.
No one got out, but Kyle could see them indistinctly through the dusty windshield. Talking?
Yes, talking. Just talking.
He went still. But it wasn’t a stony kind of stillness. No, he was jacked up inside, hyperalert, ready to spring at the first move Denver made.
What for? What business was it of his, just because he couldn’t get Alice out of his mind?
Keep it professional, he told himself, knowing full well he’d crossed that particular line the moment he’d staked out Alice’s condo.
The passenger door opened and Alice emerged, pushing back her hair. Her arm was slender and her skin ghostly pale in the moonlight, exposed by the tiny top she wore. Barely wore, held up only by narrow strings, with a sparkle where it scooped low across her breasts.
