But she was Liza.
Only he didn’t know that.
Or did he?
Beth dropped her head into her hands and groaned. Even she was confused. Sometimes she felt like Liza and other times Beth. Sometimes she felt like a combination of the two.
The knock on her front door didn’t come as a surprise. Ever since the robbery. Mrs. Braswell had gotten into the habit of checking on all the neighbors first thing in the morning. What the older woman hoped to accomplish. Beth hadn’t figured out. But the visits made the lonely woman happy, so Beth humored her.
Leaving her coffee, Beth went to the door. She swung it open in mid-yawn.
“Liza. I see I got you up.”
“Chance?” Beth rubbed her eyes.
“The one and only.” He trailed his eyes slowly over her, then brought his gaze back to her face. He smiled wickedly. “Interesting robe.”
Beth looked down at herself. Even though her garment was completely concealing, she felt exposed. Beth tightened the robe’s sash. “What brings you out so early?”
“I couldn’t reach you yesterday or last night, so here I am.”
Which didn’t tell her a thing. She frowned and propped one bare foot on top of the other. “Oh.”
“Can I come in?” He held up the bag bearing the logo of the Dana Pointe Coffeehouse. “I brought cappuccinos. Sweet, just like you like them.”
Beth caught her bottom lip between her teeth. If only he didn’t look so irresistible. If only she wasn’t in love with him. If only she were dressed.
“I promise to be good.”
He flashed her another of his breath-stealing smiles, and she stepped aside. “Okay, come on in. I might have a sweet roll or a Danish to go with the cappuccinos.”
“Sounds good.” He followed her to the kitchen. “You have chairs?”
“And a table.” They reached the kitchen, and she motioned to the butcher-block table and four ladder-back chairs at its center. “They were delivered yesterday. Have a seat.”
He did and she busied herself getting the pastries, plates, and napkins, unable to ignore the way he filled her kitchen, unable to deny how right he looked sprawled in one of her chairs. Beth sighed. Only a fool continued to wish for the impossible.
Chance heard her sigh and tipped his head, studying her while she moved around the tiny kitchen. Her movements were clean, efficient. In the kitchen as she was at the office, Beth was thorough and unflappable; she never rushed. Yet she always got the job done.
But those qualities weren’t the reason he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Chance let his gaze rove slowly over her, from her deliciously sleep-tangled hair, to the curve of her hips, outlined by the gentle cling of her robe, to her coral-tipped toes, peeking out from beneath the gown’s hem.
Something stirred deep inside him, and he frowned. He’d come this morning as the next step in his plan to trap her. He’d come to collect her disk and give her an agency contract. Not to become more involved with her, not to make love. He had best remember that.
Chance’s frown deepened. He suspected Liza was preparing to take the proverbial hike, leaving her sister Beth to take care of any necessary art arrangements with him. As a next move on Beth’s part, it made perfect sense.
He had to stop her.
Beth set the plate of Danish on the table, then slid into the chair opposite him. Only then did she meet his eyes. The expression in hers—at once shy and eager—tore at him, and Chance reminded himself what an expert actress she was.
He helped himself to one of the sweet rolls. “Beth said you went to the movies last night.”
“Umm, yes.” Beth silently cursed the lie. The night before, she had felt so guilty after having talked to him, she had gone to a movie just to keep from having lied again.
His fingers stilled. “Was it any good?”
She really couldn’t tell him. She had been so preoccupied with Chance and the triangle she’d created when she’d invented Liza, she’d been unable to concentrate on the film.
She lifted her shoulders. “It was one of those lightweight comedies. It didn’t hold my interest.”
“Too bad.”
She shrugged again. “I went to the dollar cinema. My investment was small.”
Silence fell between them. Beth lowered her eyes to her hands, acutely aware of the thinness of her robe and gown, of the intimacy of their surroundings. And of the fact she could refuse him nothing.
The memory of being in his arms, his mouth on hers, flooded her mind. Her nipples hardened; her breath caught. She silently offered him the plate of sweet rolls, working not to meet his eyes, knowing that if she did, he would see the desire that smoldered in hers. “Have another.”
“No, thanks.” He pushed his plate aside. “Red?”
Beth met his eyes, then looked away. She would end this charade now. She had to. She couldn’t lie any more, couldn’t pretend. Better to cut her losses than to bear the agony of helplessly loving him.
Beth dropped her hands to her lap. “I’m glad you’re here,” she began softly, horrified by the quaver in her voice. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “I have something I must... tell you. This is difficult for me, I know you’ll be angry... furious even, and I—”
“Don’t say any more.” Chance stood and rounded the table to where she sat. Squatting down in front of her chair, he covered her hands with his, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I know what you’re about to say.”
Her hands trembled and she cursed the telltale weakness. “You do?”
“Yes.” He wrapped his fingers around hers, surprised by the urgency that coursed through him.
“It’s about my behavior of the other night. That’s why I’m here this morning. I want to apologize.”
“That’s not it,” Beth said quickly. “Please, let me say what I must, and then if you’re still—”
“Shh.” He placed a finger gently against her lips. They were warm against his skin and trembled slightly. The urge to take them with his own raced over him, and it took everything he had to deny the urge. “Don’t say that you don’t want to see me anymore, Liza. Say anything but that.”
Beth’s heart stopped. How could this be happening? How could the thing she desired most be so close yet so far? She lowered her eyes, not wanting him to see the anguish in hers. “Chance, you don’t understand.”
“You’re angry with me.” Chance stood and drew her slowly to her feet. He slid his hands from her elbows to her shoulders, then eased her against his chest. “I behaved badly the other night. I’m sorry. Let me try to explain.” He pressed his mouth to her hair. “Please, Red. Just listen.”
Wanting curled through her. Beth squeezed her eyes shut and flattened her hands against his chest, meaning to push him away. But then she felt the rhythmic pounding of his heart.
Even as she told herself it was wrong, she looked up at him. “What happened the other night?” she asked, the words trembling on her tongue. “Why were you so angry? Why did you run out like that?”
He searched her expression for subterfuge, for calculation. He found hurt and yearning instead. The combination tugged at him. “I got scared,” he said simply.
She lifted her eyebrows in surprise. And disbelief. “Scared? You? Of what?”
Chance tangled his fingers in her hair, glorying in the silky feel of the strands. He smiled. “Of you, Red. Only of you.”
Beth shook her head. “Why would I... scare you?”
Chance eased her against his chest, all thoughts of revenge gone. At that moment nothing mattered but that she be in his arms. And that she believe him. “I realized I’d begun to care for you. Care in a way I promised myself I never would. Spend the day with me.” Smiling with an easiness he didn’t feel, he slipped his arms around her. “Give me another chance.”
Beth blinked, surprised by the invitation, more surprised by his mood shift. “Today’s a workday.”
“Who cares? Let’s go to the z
oo. Or Disneyland.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Is Beth here?” he asked.
“No... yes. I mean, she’s asleep. I was supposed to wake her up this morning. She’s going to kill me.”
He tightened his arms. “I’ll protect you.”
“No, really. You have to leave.” She pushed against him.
Chance let her go and checked his watch. “You better get her up, because I need her to get to work on time.” He took a step toward her. “Because I’d like to be very— “He took another step. “—very…” He pulled her back into his arms. “Late.”
Beth sucked in a desperate breath. “But Art One...”
“Beth can handle it. Get her up and tell her you’re going with me.”
“No! I mean,” she corrected, “I can’t spend the day with you.” She pushed her hair away from her face. “I have plans.”
He caught her hands and pressed his pelvis against hers. “Can any plans be more important than us.”
“Us?” she squeaked.
“Mmm-hmm.” He bent his head and nibbled at her lips. “You taste like chocolate cappuccino.”
She whimpered, her eyes fluttering shut. He moved his fingers in slow circles against her spine. She melted against him.
“Aw, come on,” he whispered in her ear. “Let’s go out and play today.”
Yes jumped to her lips; horrified, she swallowed it. Was she both fool and idiot? Beth shook her head and, stealing herself against the sensations rocketing through her, ducked out of his arms.
Guilt eating at her, she swung away from him. “You know, I think Beth said something about a doctor’s appointment today.”
“Is she ill?”
“No. One of those routine things. And I really have to do some... things.”
“Tonight, then?”
“Tonight?” she repeated, peeking over her shoulder at him.
“Mmm-hmm. Maybe Beth would like to join us. It’d be loads of fun.”
“Can’t.” She shook her head, relief flooding over her as she remembered that she really did have plans. “It’s Eva’s birthday, I... we’re taking her to dinner.”
Chance narrowed his eyes. “I see.”
“It’s not like that,” Beth said quickly. “I want to see you again, it’s just that...”
“It’s just what?” Chance asked quietly, flexing his fingers. “Talk to me... Liza.”
Beth met his eyes, then looked away. “Things are not as they... it’s complicated. I...”
She let her words trail off, tears springing to her eyes. She wanted to tell him, she did. But she couldn’t bear the thought of losing him.
Lose him? Everything they had was based on a lie.
She wrapped her arms around herself. “I’ve got my disk ready. If you still... want it?”
Chance stared at her for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll take it with me.”
“Okay.” Beth hesitated, then started for her studio. “I’ll be right back.”
Chance watched her hurry from the room, his chest tight with anger. But worse, with disillusionment. For a moment, when he’d seen how distressed she was becoming, he had felt like a heel. For a moment, he had believed the things she said with her eyes. He’d thought himself no better than she.
Then he’d reminded himself what a fool she was making of him. And why.
He moved to the window above her sink and stared out at the California landscape—the once-virgin hills layered with row after row of identical four-hundred-thousand-dollar homes, the perfect Easter egg-blue sky, the lush vegetation kept alive by expensive watering systems.
He’d been right—about her next move, about what she was capable of, about what she wanted.
His victory was a hollow one.
Frowning, he picked up his jacket and shrugged into it. He’d been wrong. He had thought he would enjoy cornering her. He hadn’t. He had thought playing her game would satisfy. But it didn’t.
He abhorred frauds. And deceit. Yet here he was. But he wasn’t about to back out now. He would see this thing through.
San Francisco, he thought, as she reappeared with the CD. Before they got on the plane to fly back home, the truth would be out. He would push as hard as he had to, and if that didn’t work, he would confront her. He wanted this thing over with.
She smiled tentatively and handed him the case. “Here you go.”
“I’ll need you to sign an agency contract. Basically, it grants me sole representation in California and any other region where there’s an Art One gallery.”
Chance took an envelope from his jacket pocket. “I suggest you have an attorney look it over. It is binding. I’d like it back as soon as possible, as I won’t begin marketing your work until I do.”
Beth took the contract from him, her hands trembling. “I’ll do that.”
“It’s a big step, Red. I hope you’re happy.” Without waiting for her to respond, he started for the door. “You better go get your... sister up. She’s going to be late for work.”
Chapter 8
San Francisco. Home of fine chocolates and trolley cars and Fisherman’s Wharf. A city defined by old and new, by tradition and trend, and by an exciting mix of cultures. All blended together to create a city rich in flavor and texture, a romantic city. A place for lovers.
Beth craned her neck to see out the taxicab window, then the moment the vehicle pulled to a stop in front of their hotel, she hopped out. Too excited to wait for Chance to pay the driver, she rushed to the corner to watch a trolley car climb the hill that started at the base of their hotel. The driver clanged his bell, and Beth laughed. It was just as she had always imagined it would be.
Chance came up behind her. “This is your first visit to San Francisco.”
It wasn’t a question, and she grinned up at him. “How could you tell?”
The wind had tugged some strands of her hair free of her braid. Grinning, he tucked them behind her ear. “Oh, I couldn’t. You’re every inch the bored and cynical world traveler.”
She laughed again. “San Francisco was one of the places I always dreamed about visiting. Remember that rice commercial?”
Chance thought for a moment, then hummed the jingle.
“That’s it. Every time I’d see that commercial, I’d fantasize about hills and flowers and trolley cars.” And romance, she thought. A wild romance with an ardent suitor. She sighed. Some fantasies were too ridiculous to even voice. “Do we need to go right to the gallery?”
“Tomorrow morning. Today and tonight are for us.”
Us, she thought. How delicious that sounded—even though he’d said almost the exact thing to Liza only two days before.
Beth stiffened her spine against the thought and the pain that sliced through her with it. For today and tomorrow, she would put Liza and the future out of her mind. She would give herself the gift of these couple of days.
When they returned to L.A., she would tell him. To hell with the consequences. To hell with timidity and fears. The time had come to face the truth.
Beth looked up at him. But for now she would allow herself the pleasure of his company... and the illusion of his affections. “What next, then?”
He trailed his thumb across her flushed cheek, then shook his head and dropped his hand. “We should check in.”
Beth sighed dramatically. “Must we?”
“We could leave our bags on the street.”
“And hope no one picks them up.” Beth glanced around. “Everybody looks honest to me.”
“Right.” Chance laughed and caught her hand. “Come on. We’ll just let the front desk know we’re here and have our bags sent up. We’ll be back on the street in five minutes. I promise.”
True to that promise, five minutes later they stood outside their hotel, the city and its endless possibilities sprawled out before them.
“Where do you want to begin?” Chance asked.
“Chinatown,” she said without hesitation. �
��Then chocolates. Then the Wharf, then Russian Hill, then—”
“That’s a tall order, lady.” Chance grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the trolley stand. “We’d better get going.”
They took the trolley to Chinatown and wandered in and out of shops that dealt exclusively in Chinese imports, much of it stuff for tourists. They passed storefronts hung with whole chickens and bottled concoctions and signs done completely in Chinese characters.
Chance laughed and teased and flirted. He seemed content to let her shop, good-naturedly razzing her every time she bought another junky trinket. Occasionally he would touch her cheek or hair, and as they moved along the sidewalks he kept a hand at the small of her back.
His touch both warmed and excited her; she loved him so much she thought she might burst with it. And she felt as though they were lovers. The shopkeepers thought they were—Beth could tell by their glances, their knowing smiles. One even offered Chance a charm that would keep Beth bound to him forever.
He didn’t need the charm, Beth thought as, laughing, he bought it. She was bound to him already, in every way and forever.
After a couple of hours exploring Chinatown, they went to Ghirardelli Square, then Fisherman’s Wharf. Beth hadn’t seen Chance so relaxed since... Her eyebrows drew together as she thought. Since before Liza, she realized. She wasn’t certain what that meant, and she didn’t care. For the moment, he belonged to her. Worries would wait, as would doubts.
As they arrived back at their hotel the sun made its final dip behind the horizon. Chance unlocked Beth’s room for her, then swung the door open. She didn’t make a move to go inside. Instead, she turned to him and said, “I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun. Thanks.”
Chance wanted to kiss her so badly, the need clawed at him. “I had fun too.”
“I wish...” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and shook her head. “Never mind.”
He gave in to the need and cupped her face in his palm. She tipped her face into the caress, and his chest tightened at the trusting gesture. “What do you wish, Beth?”
“That it wasn’t over,” she said simply.
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