Worth the Risk: A Contemporary Romance Bundle, page 31
Tom turned from the stove. "Just in time. Food’s almost ready."
He wore a pair of her fleecy sweatpants. Borrows clothes without asking. Another reason not to get hung up on this guy, she thought. While she swam in the heavy material, the pants fit his rear end snugly enough to nearly be obscene. He’d wrapped one of her aprons around his waist, but his chest was bare. She noticed the marks her nails had made in the tawny skin of his back and fought back a blush. No use in acting the coy maiden. Not after last night.
"Smells delicious." Lila slid into a chair and found a mug of hot tea waiting for her. He’d put in sugar and just enough cream to turn the tea a caramel color. He’d remembered how she liked it. "Usually on work days, I just grab some cold cereal, so this is a real treat. What’s on the menu?"
"Omelettes à la Caine." Tom flipped the pan expertly to cook the eggs evenly. "Onions, green peppers, some garlic.…"
Lila groaned. "I’m starved."
Tom slid an omelet onto each of their plates and sat down at the table. "I was going to make a western omelet, but you didn’t have any ham. So I substituted."
Lila paused from drinking her tea. Here it comes. The Talk. "I don’t eat pork."
Tom paused from cutting into his omelet. She could practically see the gears grinding in his mind as he thought about her name, the subject of her sister’s paintings, perhaps the gold-and-brass menorah on her mantelpiece. As Lila watched, a slow flush crept into Tom’s cheeks. He looked as comfortable as a man sitting on a cactus.
"I’m Jewish."
He nodded. "I should’ve known."
Now she began to feel uncomfortable. "Should I have told you? We didn’t talk about religion, Tom."
For the first time since knowing him, awkward silence hung between them. She took a sip of her rapidly cooling tea. Tom cleared his throat.
"Does it matter?"
Lila met his gaze levelly. It would not have been the first time a man had lost interest in her because she didn’t celebrate Christmas. If her faith was going to be a problem, best she learn now. "You tell me."
He shook his head and laid his hand across hers. "Of course not. I just feel stupid about the ham comment. I’m sorry."
More relieved than she cared to admit, Lila squeezed his fingers. "Let’s not ruin a perfectly wonderful night by worrying about stupid things."
He lasciviously waggled his eyebrows at her. "It was pretty wonderful, wasn’t it?"
"Of course it was." Lila grinned. "I mean, look at you! You’re gorgeous! How could it not have been?"
His flirtatious grin faded abruptly. He pulled his fingers out of hers. Tom gave her a crooked smile. "So...dinner tonight?"
"Oh...I'm sorry. I can't." It wasn't a lie. She had an eye doctor appointment.
His gaze flickered. "Tomorrow? Lunch?"
She knew he was waiting for her to tell him yes, but the words didn’t seem to want to come out. She bit her lip, tried to speak, but could only make an awkward squeak.
Tom got up from the table and left his omelet uneaten. "I think I’d better go."
"Wait." It was too late. His expression told her no matter what she said, she’d only be making matters worse. "Tom. Please."
"I’ll see you around." Tom’s voice was cold as he tossed the apron onto the back of the chair. "Don’t bother to get up. I’ll find my own way out."
The slamming of the front door was like a blast of dynamite. The house felt suddenly much emptier, as if by Tom’s leaving he'd taken something vital with him. Lila stared at the remains of her omelet and felt very small.
Tom was furious. What’s more, he felt…used. A sensation he’d never before had the pleasure of experiencing, though he was guiltily certain he’d been the cause of it in more than one woman.
Lila wasn’t the type to hop into bed with anyone, he reminded himself. But if she was, it would be with a man like him. The words had come straight from her mouth. It all came down to the same thing again. His face. His body. All the things God and fate had seen fit to grant him with no effort on his part. Not his level temper or sense of humor, or even his successful business. None of that had mattered. What upset him most of all was he had thought he and Lila had made a connection beyond the physical. Obviously, he was wrong.
"‘Morning, boss," Emma greeted Tom as he slammed through the front door. "Have a nice night?"
She must have guessed the answer by his stormy expression because the grin on her freckled face was replaced by a look of concern. "You okay?"
He gritted his teeth "Fine."
"Woman trouble?"
Tom glared at her. "The last thing I want to do this morning is discuss my love life with my niece. I’m going up to take a shower. Then I’m going by the restaurant."
Emma let out a slow whistle. "Woman trouble, all right."
Tom ignored her, instead climbing the wide-set stairs two at a time. Tom entered the bedroom, tossed off his coat, and pulled his shirt over his head. Then he realized he was still wearing the fleece pants he’d borrowed from Lila.
Sinking into the overstuffed chair in the corner, he sat with fists clenched on his thighs. His stomach churned fiercely. Never had a woman knocked him so low with such a casual comment.
"Damn!"
The invective only made him feel slightly better. He tried a few more, growing progressively fouler until last he’d exhausted his store of creative curses. He still felt lousy.
He’d started the day feeling so great. Tom had never quite learned how to wake up with a woman in his arms. Yet, with Lila it had just seemed natural. It had seemed impossible to do anything else.
His fists unclenched. True, they didn’t seem to have much in common. Everything from their taste in movies to the brand of cola they drank was different. Yet, talking to her had been as satisfying as making love to her had been. He could have talked to Lila for hours or sat silently with her for just as long and never become restless.
Tom had never really been in love, though he’d said the words perhaps half a dozen times. He’d never fallen hard for any woman before, preferring instead to remain commitment-free. It wasn’t that he’d been concerned about keeping himself open for something better to come along, as most of his buddies were. It was more that no woman he’d ever dated had ever bothered to look beyond the face and body, which, until last night, had been fine, since he’d been doing pretty much the same.
Lila had led him to believe she’d made love to him in spite of his face, not because of it. She’d really fooled him, made him a fool. The sooner he forgot about her, the better off he’d be. But damn! Why did it have to make him feel like his chest was filled with broken glass?
The wildflowers in Lila’s hand were an explosion of expensive, off-season color. Vibrant, brilliant purple mingled with golden yellow, fiery orange, and stunning red. A single white rose centered the bouquet and gave it the touch of class Lila wanted.
The Foxfire was busy with its lunch-time crowd. Mothers with toddlers in strollers sat next to business-suited executives and denim-clad college students. The place was packed. Great. Just what she needed—an audience to her folly.
Lila took a deep breath and clutched the bouquet in front of her like a shield before she pushed through the frosted glass door. Only when her fingernails began cutting into her palm did she notice how tightly she held the flowers. She forced her fingers to relax.
"One for lunch?" The hostess was the same tall, cool blonde whose makeup looked like it had been applied with an artist’s brush. Every feature was lined or enhanced, but so subtly it was difficult to pin the effects on rouge or eyeshadow. She made Lila feel like she’d rolled out of bed without bothering to brush her hair or her teeth.
"Actually, I’m here to see the owner."
The hostess blinked twice and looked at Lila with new eyes. Her liquid green gaze took in the flowers, and a tiny smile tugged the corners of her freshly glossed lips. She tapped her perfectly manicured talons against the lectern. "I’m not certain he’s available right now. Is he expecting you?"
Though she thought violent behavior crass and cheap, Lila wanted to slap the smile off the other woman’s face. She could tell what the blonde was thinking just by the bemused smirk. She had seen it before, on the women who knew William.
Just to spite the other woman, Lila wanted to respond coolly, that yes, Mr. Caine was expecting her. Of course he was. In fact, he had begged her to visit him over the lunch hour.
"No, he isn’t." Lila couldn’t say anything else. Tom hadn’t begged to see her. She hadn’t even heard from him in four days. After what she’d said, he probably didn’t want to see her.
"I’ll see what I can do." The hostess left her post in a swirl of musky perfume.
She should just turn around and leave. She’d only come here because she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Every night before she went to bed, his was the last face she saw. Every morning, the fact he wasn’t there beside her made her stomach hurt.
She’d never obsessed about a man before. She’d never had to close her eyes against a sudden memory of his face or the way he smelled. She’d never had to whisper his name to herself in the mirror simply because she so badly wanted him beside her. Not even William had filled her head the way Tom did.
It was lust and nothing more. An itch that should have been scratched on Thursday night. But if that was true, why had she bought flowers? Why had she dialed his number half a dozen times and hung up before the first ring? Sex could be a very powerful motivation for action, but this went beyond two people going to bed. She needed to apologize to him because the thought she had hurt him made her ache inside.
She turned to go, unable all at once to face him with so much emotion battling inside her. He would not be home at this hour. She could call his house and leave a message. She could write him a note and mail it so she wouldn’t have to speak to him at all…
"Lila?"
Oh God. Lila turned, her hands suddenly trembling. "Hi."
He looked at her warily. Coolly. The way he’d looked when he left her house. Blindly, she thrust the flowers at him.
"These are for you. I just wanted to say I was sorry. I’m such an idiot. This isn’t the place. I’m sorry."
Thankful the all-knowing hostess hadn’t been there to see her act like such a fool, Lila headed out of the restaurant. His voice stopped her before she could reach the door. She paused without facing him.
"Nobody ever gave me flowers before."
She looked back at him and discovered, to her sudden dismay and mortification, tears had welled up in her eyes. She blinked them back. She didn’t want to cry. Not here, of all places. Not in front of him.
"I thought you might like them. They’re a little wild, and they smell good. Like you." She was babbling now. Heat rose in her cheeks. This was worse than anything she’d imagined.
Tom stepped forward and took her arm. "Let’s go into my office."
He walked her quickly back through the restaurant and skillfully steered her around any obstacle, which was good since now the tears in her eyes were blinding her. He opened a door and gently pushed her inside.
"Why did you come here?" Tom led her to a soft chair.
Lila pressed her cool hands against her flushed cheeks. Deep breath in, deep breath out, until the tears no longer threatened. She looked at him.
"I wanted to apologize for what I said on Friday morning. I was stupid. I’m sorry I hurt you."
"What makes you think you hurt me?" Tom leaned back against the desk. With his arms folded across his chest and his long, long legs crossed at the ankles, he wasn’t exactly a picture of welcoming warmth. "You can’t hurt someone who doesn’t care about you." His hazel eyes were stormy, his lips a thin line.
His words slapped her. Lila blinked, and the heat disappeared from her face instantly, as though she’d just plunged into an ocean of ice. "I see." Her back stiffened. Once again her fists clenched until her palms ached from the press of her nails against the flesh. She rose to go and did not look at him. If she looked at him, she might slap him or cry and she wanted to do neither.
"Do you?" Tom stepped closer to her and caught her arm to prevent her from leaving.
She pulled her arm from his grasp. "Yes, I think I do."
"I don’t think so." He towered over her. "I said you can’t hurt someone who doesn’t care about you, Lila."
She whirled on him, sudden fury rising in her like a tidal wave. "I heard what you said, Tom! I understand!"
The hands that had worshipped her flesh now gripped her tightly enough to hurt. Refusing to wince, Lila tried to pull free. Tom wouldn’t let her.
"You did hurt me." He moved his face closer to hers, and his voice almost became a growl. His eyes were inches from hers, and she could see flecks of gold glittering in the amber-green depths. It took Lila a moment to digest what he’d said. As the fight faded out of her, Tom let go of her arms. He rubbed his fingers up and down along where he’d gripped her to ease the sting.
"I do care." Tom paused as if to gather his courage. "Why did you come here?"
"To say I was sorry."
He pulled her to him and sought her mouth. She met his kiss eagerly. When he urged her lips to part, she did that, too. His hands crept up to tangle in her hair, and she didn’t protest. It was all she’d wanted him to do, since the first time she’d seen him. All she’d thought about.
"So now what?" Tom pulled away from her.
"I like being with you. Can we leave it at that for now?"
He shrugged. "If you insist."
Lila gently disentangled herself from his grasp. "I’ve got to get back. I have a thousand things to do this afternoon."
"When can I see you again?"
"You’ll see me tonight," she reminded. "We have a partnership meeting at the gallery. We’re supposed to be planning the gala opening."
Tom mock-slapped his forehead. "I forgot. I’ll be there."
They stared at each other in silence for a minute. Then Lila reached up to peck his cheek. Tom captured her shoulders and refused to release her until she had kissed him as passionately as before.
"I’d better go." Lila laughed again.
"I’ll see you tonight."
At the thought, her belly quivered. Tonight, indeed.
The rest of the day passed in a daze for Tom. He placed three incorrect orders for produce before Emma finally took over. Ordering him out of the kitchen, she grabbed the order book from his hands and shook her head.
"Boss, go put your flowers in a vase before they wilt," she ordered. "Better yet, go home and take a cold shower."
Only a niece who was practically like a younger sister could get away with telling him what to do. Tom didn’t care. Lila had brought him flowers. Nobody had ever brought him flowers, and though he knew his buddies would make unrepentant fun of him if they found out, it would mostly be out of jealousy. Nobody had ever brought them flowers either.
"You’re in a good mood." Jennifer paused to stuff a handful of menus into a drawer. Now that lunch was over, The Foxfire would be fairly quiet for a few hours until dinner. She and Tom had often spent the time talking.
Not today, though. Visions of dark curls and blue-ice eyes were filling Tom’s mind. Visions of Lila.
"I’m in a great mood." Tom punched the air.
Jennifer smiled flirtatiously. "How come?"
"No reason."
She must have caught the unspoken answer in his voice. She frowned, an expression that didn’t flatter her. As if realizing that, she made an obvious effort to smooth the lines of her face into a smile.
"Well, if you’re in a good mood, so am I," she cooed.
"Good. Then you won’t mind working the dinner shift tonight. I’ve got to get home early. I’ve got a date tonight."
It was a good thing he’d been out of range of her nails, he thought as he pushed through The Foxfire front doors. Otherwise, Jennifer might have given him a pretty bad scratch. He laughed about it on the way home, but realized how much had changed in the past few days. Even as short as a few months ago, he’d have returned Jen’s flirting without thinking twice. They’d never dated, though she and Wendi had sometimes ended up at the same local watering holes he’d used to frequent regularly. It hadn’t been hard to see that the hostess and the waitress would have gladly gone home with him, but he’d never taken it that far.
And now, he never would. He laughed again as he pulled into the driveway. She brought me flowers.
Investing in Rivka Delaney’s art was the best decision he’d ever made. The afternoon took forever to drag by, but at last it was time to head over to The Gallery on Second. Parking his hunter-green Chevy Tahoe in the back lot, Tom let himself into the gallery with the key Rivka had given him. The lights were dim, but he heard voices from the back.
"Tom!" Rivka rose and kissed his cheek. Mick and Martin stood and shook his hand. Tom turned to Lila, who smiled and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
"Not in front of my sister," she murmured into his ear. "She doesn’t know."
"We were talking about the opening night party." If Rivka had guessed anything about her sister and Tom, she didn’t let it show. "I want it to be the best party this town has seen in a long time!"
"She wants to make it a costume party." Lila raised one eyebrow. "Sort of a masque."
"Lila-love’s not thrilled, as you can tell." Rivka nudged her husband. "But we love it, don’t we, Mickey?"
"You love it because you want to dress like a sheik and a harem girl." Lila rolled her eyes.
Rivka rolled eyes shaded in spangled eyeshadow. "So? What’s so bad about that?"
Martin cleared his throat and cut off Lila’s response. "A costume ball would certainly attract the right people. The mayor always attends the Art Council’s annual masquerade."
"So, a masque it is!" Rivka clapped her hands and shot her sister a triumphant look. "Tom, what do you think? It’s mostly your money after all."
