“Did you threaten to beat him up if he asked her out again?” Wendy asked with a sly smile.
He startled. “Who told you?”
Wendy giggled.
Risa grabbed his forearm. “You didn’t.”
Trevor shrugged. “Maybe.”
“He never asked Risa out again and would barely speak to her,” Wendy said. “Then there was the time when Mr. Barron, their chemistry teacher, assigned Tim and Risa to work together on a project. Tim met with Barron, new assignments were made and Risa had to work with Smelly Larry.”
Trevor chuckled. “Smelly Larry? What are you? Ten?”
Wendy laughed. “Yeah, I know but I was awful back then.”
“Back then?”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’m awful today too.”
“Why in the world did you go down that memory lane?” Risa frowned.
“Oh. I ran into Tim McClure last week.”
“Really?” Risa said, her face brightening with a smile. “How does he look?”
Trevor lips tightened. Seriously? After Wendy’s lecture about not hurting her sister, she then goes and brings up the only guy Trevor had to threaten more than once to stay away from his girlfriend? And there might have been a few shoves and punches to get his message across. Damn.
“Oh good. Really, really good.”
“Is he back in Diamond Lakes?”
“Better. He’s here in Dallas. Divorced. Said he has a couple of kids. Moved here to be closer to them.”
Risa’s smile widened. “Good for him. I bet he’s a great dad.”
“Maybe,” Trevor said, his voice sour with disgust at the conversation. “But he must have been a horrible husband.”
Risa turned her bright smile toward him. “Maybe it was her fault their marriage failed.”
“Maybe it was nobody’s fault,” Wendy said with a shoulder bump to Risa. “Maybe he never got over the one who got away.”
Trevor blew a puff of disgust. “Give me a break. That was twenty years ago and one date.”
Wendy smiled sweetly. “I never said anything about him and Risa.” Laughing, she stood. “Well, I’ve gotta go. It’s getting late. Need to get my beauty sleep.”
She charged through the condo and the front door slammed behind her.
“Was it something I said?” he asked.
She laughed.
“How about that movie?”
She checked her phone. “It’s getting a little late.”
He frowned. “It’s nine o’clock. When we are fifty-five and we hesitate to start a movie at nine because it’s too late, that’ll be fine. But I think we can both stay up past ten. Come on. What’s on?”
“Fine,” she said with a whirl toward the TV in the den. “What do you want to watch?”
“Hmm…blood, gore, and violence?”
She snorted. “Nope.”
After turning to the available movies, she began scrolling.
“No bloody, gory war movies. I get enough blood and gore at work.”
“Fine.” When she stopped at a Jane Austen movie, he groaned. “No. Please. No movies about Regency England and no gooey, love stories.”
“Fine.” She scrolled on until she found a sci-fi movie with lasers, bombs and a love story.
“What about this?”
“Sold. But before we get started, I want to make sure all the doors are locked,” Trevor said.
“Afraid my sister will be back?”
He chuckled. “No, but checking doors and windows is why I’m here, right?”
He waited, hoping that she’d say something about reconnecting or missing him or anything that would be other than professional reasons. Sure, she’d kissed him, but he needed some words.
After hesitating a minute, she shrugged. “Right, but I can do it. I know how to lock everything. Be back in five.”
“Nope. I’m with you. I want to check everything myself.”
She hopped up. “Knock yourself out!”
They made the rounds to the front door—locked—then by each of the sliding doors that led out to the terrace. There must have been at least six of them, each locked with a security bar. Then she led him to the rear entrance where the residents-only elevator opened directly into her suite.
“Okay, this I don’t like,” he said, examining the elevator. “I mean, anyone could get on here, take this to the penthouse and enter your condo.”
She shook her head. “Not really.” She turned a lock on the elevator frame. “This locks the door, so it can’t be opened without this key,” she said, flashing a gold key. “Plus it only opens to my rear entrance where I stash my umbrella or wet shoes or whatever might be dirty.” She pulled him back into the condo. “And then this door locks.” She bolted a rear door. “Now that I think about it, you’re probably an overkill.” Looking up at him, she added, “You can thank my mother for this job. She insisted.”
“I’m glad you’re on the top floor of the building. It does make breaking in more challenging.”
She laughed. “Seriously, Trevor? You think you could break in?”
“Probably not me, but I know a few guys who could.”
“You hang around with some strange people.”
He shrugged. “The job. Now, the movie, and then get some rest. I checked the schedule and we have to be at the television station early.”
“Popcorn?”
“I’m stuffed from the pizza, aren’t you?”
“Well, yeah, but I was trying to be a good host.”
“I’m not a guest, Risa,” he said softly.” I’m your employee, right?”
“Right.”
Her answer was a quick jab at his gut.
They settled onto the sofa, close but not touching. He put his arm along the back of the cushion and settled in to watch spaceships battle.
At the same time, the evening’s conversation ran through his head. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected or wanted her to say about their past, maybe that they’d been good together. And then for him to get jealous as soon as Tim McClure’s name came up? He hoped she hadn’t noticed.
And damn it, he wanted her to say she was glad he was here and that hadn’t happened either. Maybe he shouldn’t have waited fifteen years to come back to her.
Chapter Four
For years, Risa had held her emotions in check. She’d dated, but not often and rarely beyond a second date. Most of the men who were interested in her were, in her opinion, just as interested in her fancy condo with its prime Dallas location or her parents’ ranch in Diamond Lakes or wanted to tap into her medical resources. She couldn’t remember the last guy she’d believed was interested in Risa, the person.
She did have one good friend who would attend professional functions with her when she needed an escort, but there was nothing between them. He claimed a bisexual orientation, but she’d always felt he leaned more toward men than women and would probably be happier with a man. Still, he was reliable, handsome, and charming—the ideal date when she didn’t really want a date, but to attend without one would be awkward.
Beside her, however, sat the biggest threat to her heart that she’d had in more than a decade. Like her usual escort, Trevor was handsome and charming. The stopper came at reliable. Was he? She had no clue. He’d been a rolling stone for so long that, well, a rolling stone could be difficult, if not impossible, to settle in one place. After all, hadn’t he started the business in California, and then moved it to Texas? Rolling stone.
She was settled. She loved Dallas. Loved her job. Loved being close to her family. Loved having her twin just down the hall. Did she want to upset her perfect life by letting Trevor in, especially knowing he would be gone in five days?
And even if he did stay, his time would be consumed with his company. She didn’t know much more than what she’d read and what his mother had told her mother, but an international security company would certainly take him out of town, and out of the country on a regular basis. Always on the move.
Always rolling to a new place and new challenges.
And the people he knew…He’d been serious about knowing someone who could get through all her security, and that scared her. One of the reasons she hadn’t stayed with him fifteen years ago had been because the thought of him being in harm’s way paralyzed her with fear. She couldn’t study. Couldn’t sleep. Would only eat enough to keep herself alive.
Finally, she’d blocked him from her thoughts. It’d only taken a couple of years before he wasn’t the first thing she thought of in the morning and the last thing she thought about at night. Although to be honest, she’d never really forgotten him. There had been many “what ifs” over the years.
While he probably didn’t believe her story, it had been his mother, via her mother, who’d suggested hiring him for this event. Her mother told her that Mrs. Mason was so happy that Trevor had finally come back to Texas and they’d be able to see him more often.
Being a nice, middle-class family, the Masons could never have afforded the fifty-thousand per ticket for the gala, but she’d sent his parents’ tickets as a thank-you for getting Trevor to take this job.
“Have you talked to your folks?”
Trevor was facing the movie, and she assumed he was engrossed because it took a minute for him to answer. He paused the action on the screen. A couple of the characters were shooting laser guns at each other.
“What?”
“Have you talked to your parents since you’ve been here?”
“No. When would I? We’ve been on the go all day.”
“I don’t know. I thought maybe you called them last night.”
“Nope.” He turned the movie back on.
“Why not?”
He sighed and stopped the action again. “I don’t know. I just haven’t.”
She turned on the sofa to face him. “Do you want to drive down on Sunday and see them? We have time.”
“No. We need to stay here. All your family jewelry will still be here, so I need to be here.”
“Hmm.”
Wrapping a hand around her ankle, he pulled her down the couch until she was beside him. Once there, he snaked his arm around her shoulders until his hand was over her lips.
“There. Now I can hear the movie.”
She giggled, and then, she had no idea what possessed her, but she licked his fingers.
His head jerked toward her and their gazes met. His eyes darkened and smoldered with lust.
Her heart leapt into her throat and she could barely draw a breath. His hand moved slowly away from her mouth.
“My tongue slipped?”
“Yeah? I think my tongue might slip too.”
He pulled her over and kissed her…a long, deep, tongue-thrusting kiss that must have lasted thirty minutes. During that time, he gently lowered her back to the sofa and followed her down, their lips never more than a millimeter apart.
When she scooted backwards so her legs stretched out on the cushions, he wedged himself between her thighs and continued caressing her mouth, inside and out. Finally, he pulled away and left a line of kisses up her cheek and to her ear. Using the tip of his tongue, he traced her ear’s outer rim and left a breathy moan whispering in her ear.
He jerked his mouth away and sat up. “This movie’s not that great. Why don’t you get some sleep? We have an early start tomorrow.” He stood. “I want to check the terrace doors one more time before you call it a night.”
She stared for a full ten seconds, and then she slapped a hand on the sofa cushion. Sleep? She’d never get to sleep with memories of his kisses rolling through like a film strip.
But she’d be damned if she let him know he’d gotten to her.
She marched to her room and slammed the door… two or three times. She had to make sure it was shut tight to keep burglars and ne’er-do-wells out of her room.
Rising before the sun wasn’t an issue for Risa. She’d had ranch chores before breakfast as far back as she could remember. One sleepless night couldn’t shake her. However, she was going on a second night of rolling around in her sheets like clothes in a dryer.
At four, she gave up any pretense of sleep and hopped into the shower. On surgery days, she didn’t usually put on makeup or do much to her long hair other than pulling it back into a ponytail. Surgery required masks—which would smear her makeup—and a cap, which would effectively leave her to deal with flyaway hair.
This morning was different. A television appearance, newspaper interview, the keynote address at a civic club meeting, and the evening drive radio program required she polish up her exterior.
At four-forty-five, she exited her bedroom and sighed as the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted down the hall.
In the kitchen, Trevor stood frying bacon and sipping coffee. He’d dumped the all-black bodyguard look in favor of khaki slacks, a white oxford shirt rolled up to mid-forearm, a black, tailored jacket and soft-soled shoes.
“Good morning.”
His voice was deep and made her think of dark rooms, soft sheets and a king-sized bed.
She fought the shiver that ran down her spine.
“Good morning,” she repeated, her voice raspy and rough. “How long have you been up?” She cleared her throat. Her voice needed a little exercise before she had to speak on television.
“A while. Put some breakfast in your belly.”
“I’ll just have coffee.” She poured a cup and took the plate he shoved in her hand.
“Eat. We have time.”
The front door bell chimed and her head snapped up. “That’s not supposed to happen. No one comes up the guest elevator without prior announcement.”
“Finish eating. I know who this is.”
He left the kitchen, and she followed him to the front entry way, the formal guest entry.
After looking through the peephole, he opened the door with a bright smile.
“Sue. Thank you for coming.”
“Are you kidding? The job entails sitting in this incredible condo all day? Thanks, Boss. Can I request more jobs like this?”
He chuckled and turned around. “I knew you wouldn’t follow directions.” He sighed. “Risa, this is Sue Lee, the fastest, meanest chick I’ve ever met.”
“And the only one to put you on your back.” She arched a brow in challenge. “And don’t call me a chick.”
He laughed. “One of these days, I’ll demand a rematch. Sue, this is Dr. Risa McCool. This is her home. I expect today to be the most boring job ever, but we have some outside appearances and I don’t want to leave her safe unguarded."
“Nice to meet you,” Risa said, extending her hand.
Dressed in black, form-fitting jeans, a tank top and EyeSpy windbreaker, Sue wore the confident expression of someone who wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone. Her shiny, long, black hair was pulled into a ponytail, which might have added an inch to her petite stature.
Sue shook her hand. “You too.”
“Let me give you the five-cent tour,” Trevor said, gesturing for Sue to follow him.
“I can show her around,” Risa said. “This is my house.”
“You.” Trevor pointed toward the kitchen. “You, go eat. Sue won’t care about your fancy carpets and Monets on the wall. She’s only interested in potential ingresses and egresses.”
Risa whirled around and headed back to the kitchen, her jaw tight with fury. What did he mean by that snarky remark? Was he always going to be uncomfortable that her family was lucky enough to have some cash reserves?
It was high school all over again.
As he’d asked—or maybe ordered—that depended on whether she wanted to overlook his demanding tone—she nibbled on a piece of toast and thought about their on-again-off-again relationship. Seemed like their issues always centered around her family’s money, which was so stupid. Whenever she’d bought him a gift he deemed too expensive, he’d get furious and, sometimes, refuse it. Like the time she’d secretly paid for his car to get the engine repairs a
nd new tires it desperately needed. He couldn’t exactly ask the garage to undo all their work and his car had needed tires so badly his mother had wept and hugged Risa. Trevor, however, wasn’t the least bit pleased. Instead, he’d been irate, and she hadn’t understood his anger. Now, looking back, she could see she should have gotten his permission before overhauling his car. Her actions might have been a little high-handed, but she’d meant well.
“Ready?”
Risa raised her gaze from her plate, where she’d been focused, to Trevor’s chiseled face.
“As ready as I’ll ever be. You didn’t show your guest where the kitchen is.”
“Sue isn’t a guest. She’s an employee, and yes, she’s familiar with the layout. Let’s get a move on if you don’t want to be late.”
“Your car again?”
He smiled, and her panties got wet.
Damn it.
“Never mind,” she said, slinging a purse over her shoulder. “Of course, you’re driving.”
When she headed toward the residents’ elevator, he put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “Let’s use the public elevator system. I’d rather your doors stayed locked.”
“Sure. Whatever.”
The ride to the KSEP studio was quiet. She wasn’t really comfortable being in the spotlight, an aspect of her career that she hated. However, she much preferred being known for her work rather than for her family’s last name. It wasn’t as if reporters followed her on dates or tried to take pictures with long-range lens, but she and or her sister had been in the society pages since their debutante days. She’d been known for performing the perfect Texas dip, while Wendy became known for doing the splits under her ball gown instead of the tucked-legs pose. However, her sister was so well-loved that everyone laughed with Wendy, never at her. Had Risa been the one to do the splits, the outcry of pity and sympathy would have been smothering.
But her saving grace that long-ago evening and for all the fancy la-de-da events during her debutante year had been Trevor. She’d leaned on his quiet strength when she was at her most stressed. Had she ever thanked him? All those events. All those times when he’d had to wear a suit when she was sure he’d rather have been in jeans on the back of a horse.
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