He had dark hair, maybe a chocolate color, she thought, gazing up into a pair of glasses and curiously amused brown eyes that stared back at her. She knew those eyes, was the instant zing that shot through her. The words sweet, caring and shy came to mind but she wasn’t sure where they were coming from and staring until it clicked would be just plain rude.
“You have pretty eyes. Hazel…do they shift color with your moods?” He asked quietly, laughing at the surprise in her expression. “Guess I’ll have to find that one out for myself.”
“Who…”
“Tanner Clayton. Your new partner,” he told her with a slight tip of his head. “You’re very young for the accomplishments that came with your resume.”
“I…young?” She continued to stare at him, vaguely aware that her feet were moving and she was very close to him, one palm possessively resting just shy of being considered intimate on her hip. “Partner?”
“You did sign the agreement, Vianne,” he reminded her, his cheek resting against her forehead. “We’re now the official historians for the resort. Our offices are set up in the admin section. Have you been down to see things yet?”
“No. I…I’ve been working something for a friend,” Vianne glanced at the large hand holding hers firmly. “I had it planned to visit and see what I needed to do the middle of next week.”
“Ahh…yes…the still working part time as a freelance journalist. I saw your expose’ on Barrow. Nice work.”
“Thank you. I have good friends,” she murmured. How did she get here? For the first time, she could see how Erika ended up engaged to a man she loathed.
But this man. There was something fascinating and mysterious about him. Something she hadn’t been able to uncover and figure out. Not yet.
Tanner Clayton appeared to have come out of nowhere. All her sources could come up with was that he’d made his money in the middle of the computer boom. She knew she had the best researchers trying to figure him out and they’d only found snippets.
Then came months of emails and texts. Just talking. She couldn’t recall the last time a man had nothing but conversations with her and hadn’t pressed for more, faster and more intimate.
She thought he was closer to forty and he barely looked like he was thirty! Whatever he’d done and she guessed it was programming, there hadn’t been photos of him anywhere. He guarded his privacy and had made an offer that had her head swimming.
He’d thrown an amazing salary at her and agreed to her continuing to freelance as a journalist. How could a girl turn that down? She had a plush office and tons of things to write up and catalogue and a great addition to her nest egg. Yeah, keep convincing yourself it’s the best idea ever and add to that the fact that the man smells like he’d been out in the woods for the last year, fresh and spicy.
“Are you alright?” Tanner looked into the wide, pale brown eyes when she continued to blink at him. More than a little confused by his question. “You groaned. Are you in pain? Did I step on your foot?”
Thick lashes slammed shut. Oh god. She thought the groan had been inside.
“Fine. I’m fine. Maybe just a little hungry,” she said, working at the firm sound that had been her signature when interviewing on camera. “You’re a very good dancer.”
“Thank you. I’ve made reservations and we can go now,” he told her, easily sliding her to his side as he walked toward the table. He lifted her coat and let it rest over his arm as they continued out into the very large foyer of the resort and casino.
He’d been waiting months to get close to Vianne Summers. He’d known all along that keeping her off guard and a little off balance was the key and holding her close to his side definitely had her unbalanced. And she didn’t recognize or remember him. That one he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. But it really wasn’t a surprise. He’d changed a great deal from when he was seventeen. He could actually formulate words into full sentences now in the face of women. Or when he held one close against him who smelled heavenly.
“I have questions,” Vianne said as they walked, aware that he was adjusting his stride so she could keep up. Okay, that gave him a few points. She was only five-five, maybe a little more in her heels and while most of it was leg, she still had a tunic on that didn’t allow for long legged running. So he was considerate, she thought, cataloging the man walking with his hand at the rise of her hip. And he smelled really good. Of all her senses, why was that one so keen around him?
“You’re a reporter. I’m sure it comes naturally to you,” he said, sounding amused.
“Why are there no photos of you? Why did you want this position? Nothing I found said you were either a reporter or historian,” Vianne tipped her head back, studying the rugged features; the long neck, longish brown hair that had a habit of falling over the edge of his glasses and the single deep red stone in his right ear lobe. And then she noticed he wasn’t wearing a business suit. Amber lashes blinked, taking in the thick crème colored sweater and snug jeans. She took a guess that his shoes were actually boots, very nicely tooled boots, she thought with a little frown.
“How old are you?” Her palm flew to her mouth at the same time he laughed, his head shaking as they entered the quiet restaurant. He hadn’t even had time to respond to her first set of questions and here she was throwing out another, very improper inquiry.
“Clayton reservation, please,” he told the hostess, one palm up and rubbing his neck, his voice still hinged with amusement. “You are a fascinating woman, Vianne.”
“I am so sorry,” Vianne shook her head slowly. “I…am usually much more professional than that. I’m sorry,” she said again as they were led through the tables to the second level and into a secluded corner. Candles were on the table and they were separated from the majority of other tables, the flames reflecting in the huge glass that faced the Sound. “It’s so beautiful out there,” she said, absently taking the chair he held out for her. “Thank you.”
“I think it’s beautiful in here,” Tanner responded softly, accepting the menu and leaning back without looking at it. He kept telling himself she was real. She was actually sitting across from him in the flesh. He’d have to remember to compliment and tip the lead for the restaurant. They’d set up the table he requested perfectly. The romantic alcove just for the two of them.
Vianne felt the heat striking her face. And felt like a girl in high school. Which was stupid, she told herself firmly. Okay it might have been a while since she was on a date kind of thing…alright, a long while. Most of her dinners were business or informant related.
“That’s very kind of you, Tanner,” she managed, clearing her throat and making a concerted effort to stare at the printing on the menu. “Do you conduct all your business arrangements like this one? I mean your dinners with partners.”
“I haven’t had any arrangement quite like this one before, Vianne. I promise you that,” he said with a chuckle, acknowledging the waitress with a smile. “I’ll have one of the dark ales, please. Vianne?”
“Sweet white wine, please,” she answered.
“An appetizer? We have several.”
“The mixed platter, please,” Tanner answered, nodding as she left them. “I think we’re going to make a fantastic team.”
“Documenting the reclamation will take a lot of work. I only hope other cities and people join and it makes a significant improvement,” Vianne agreed, making her choice and closing the menu. “Logan was very clear on how and what he wanted. That makes it much easier.”
“I’ve studied your writing. You’ll do a good job with the personnel side of things,” Tanner watched her, the candle light throwing the pale blond curls in shimmering pools of color reflecting off the large plate glass windows around them. “I’ve got several agents searching for existing books of the origins of the area. They’re having good luck with that as there really isn’t much of a market for the history portion these days.”
“Evidently I’m much more public than you’ve b
een,” she said carefully, not wanting to insult her new boss at their first face to face meeting.
“I’m not much for the public eye,” he acknowledged with a casual shrug. “I like my privacy. You have the appearance and personality for the external portion of the job.”
“And yet you’re jumping feet first into the reclamation.”
“Some things in life require you take a risk,” he said, holding her gaze with his. “I have something for you. To commemorate our partnership,” he pulled a small, flat box from his pocket and slid it across to her.
“I can’t…”
“No strings, Vianne,” he said simply, opening the box and lifting the bracelet from the inside. Tanner leaned forward, sliding his chair closer to hers and taking her wrist in his hand. “I hope it fits. You’re a little thinner than I thought when I saw it.”
“I…Tanner…it’s beautiful…” Vianne looked at the alternating white and pink sparkling stones in the tennis bracelet. “They’re pink.”
“I think they said they were pink sapphires,” he shrugged. “Never was good at the gemstone thing. I just knew it would look good on you,” he fastened the clasp and tilted her palm up, their fingers falling naturally into a twine together. “And I was right.”
“I cannot accept…”
“You’ll break my heart?”
For a few too brief seconds, she found herself afloat in the dark recesses of his eyes. A soft, sweet look on his face that seemed to definitely belie the businessman she’d met through hundreds of emails. An almost winsome, wistful look that made her want only to make him happy.
“I…you…” Vianne pulled her fingers cautiously free, relieved when the arrival of the appetizers gave her breathing space. “Thank you. It’s beautiful,” she finally said when they were alone again. “I have questions,” she repeated, more firmly, more confident and less fifteen, she hoped.
“No photos…I’m just a private kind of guy. Why did I want the position? Because I’ve some off the wall notion that we can make this happen again, in another city, with the right people and the right concern and hope for tomorrow,” Tanner took a drink of his ale, aware of the wide eyes watching him. “I’ll work at documenting a good portion of the business aspects of the entire thing.”
He reached across the table, two fingers beneath her chin and pressing lightly up. Vianne snapped up instantly, her lips making him groan inwardly and wishing they were against his.
“You’re avoiding looking at me, Vianne. Why?”
“I’m sorry. I was listening.” But she also knew she was avoiding looking at him because she liked too much of what she felt inside his gaze.
“Do I frighten you?” Tanner pressed gently.
“Of course not,” her chin went up that time.
“That’s a relief,” a tiny hint of humor in his voice. “There’s nothing in my bio about being an historian or reporter, though I have had classes in both, extensively. I’ve become more of a strategist, a planner, if you will. Documenting the steps will be important, vital, but cataloguing the personalities and keeping a clear, precise outline of the costs, that’s where the key lies.” He paused, taking another drink of the dark ale. “You’re not speaking, Miss Summers. That usually means there’s a problem.”
Questions. She was positive she had more questions. She’d been a reporter her whole life. Her whole life, she reminded herself. The queen of conspiracies. He remembered everything she’d asked!
“Oh, my age isn’t important to anything. I can assure you I’m well over legal limits,” he said with a teasing, sexy wink that made her jerk her eyes from his and thank the gods for waitresses. “I think we’re ready to order.”
Vianne tried to remember what she’d decided, placed the request and caught his gaze. “Excuse me a moment, please.”
She continued to stare as she stood up, watching the gentleman in him rise until she’d walked off toward where she knew the restrooms were.
A gentleman with continental manners. In jeans and an Irish Crème sweater.
Her hand was up to push the door open, lights flickering on the bracelet he’d attached around her wrist. It had one of those special clasps to make sure you didn’t lose it, she noticed, slipping the lock into place in one of the small bathrooms.
Vianne was still staring at the bracelet, dotted with diamonds and pink sapphires. She peered at the tiny tag, squinted and read the maker. She knew the name. She felt her knees shaking a little and sunk onto the cushioned chair, staring. It was set in platinum. That was all that maker produced. She remembered the story of his style, the curves on the tiny wells that held each stone had become part of his signature.
This wasn’t a replica or even some inexpensive cubic zirconia. This was the genuine article and cost a small fortune. She had to give it back. At least she was hearing those words in the back of her mind.
A little cold water on the face and she was as ready as possible. She stood before the mirror, the casual scoop neckline on her tunic over a pair of comfortable leggings and low heels. How long had it been since someone flirted with her as smoothly as he was? How long had it been since she noticed, was the more logical question, she thought as she walked back to their table. And it had probably been too long to recall the last time a man flirting with her unbalanced her so much.
Vianne thought she was back in control until he rose when she approached and held her chair for her. She found herself staring at him.
“More questions?” Tanner lifted a stuffed mushroom and bit down hungrily, offering her a sample and smiling when her mouth opened almost before she realized what she was doing.
Vianne looked at their chairs. He’d rearranged things while she was gone, she realized, their seats much closer together than before. It had a much more romantic feeling to it now and that sent a shiver racing through her.
“You’re single?” She demanded, briefly wondering where her manners have disappeared to. The only explanation she was giving herself was temporary insanity. She didn’t have another answer. Something about this man was short-circuiting her brain. And she wasn’t particularly comfortable with the way too warm hitch in her middle.
“I’m single,” he acknowledged with a slight nod, biting into one of the small toasted pieces of thick bread with tomatoes and cheese. The smile teasing his lips remained in place when he offered her the other half, her lips parting even as she frowned at him.
“And you’re not gay,” she said as if talking to herself, her hand abruptly over her mouth. What was wrong with her?! She’d always been in control of her mouth! Always! You can’t get people to talk to you by letting things just pop out without a censure. But he didn’t appear offended. In fact, she realized with a hard swallow of the food he’d been feeding her, he was laughing.
“I can definitely promise you, Vianne, a few more seconds with you on the dance floor and I was rapidly running out of baseball stats to calculate and you would have known without a doubt that I was not only not gay, but definitely affected by you in my arms,” Tanner swore she’d stopped breathing. He leaned forward just a bit. “I also believe in full disclosure and honesty. I won’t lie to you.”
Vianne stared at the full lips speaking to her, the very dark eyes that seemed to sparkle with the amusement hinging his words. Was this some odd side effect to her life changing choice? She’d spent too much time around couples lately, she decided, lifting the wine and draining the glass.
Both of them jolted slightly when the buzz sounded, Vianne’s hand going to the small purse she wore across her body. She looked at the readout, smiling.
“Something finally made you smile. It’s beautiful,” Tanner said quietly, meeting her eyes and wishing he’d been the one to put the smile there.
“My friends. Just letting me know they’ll be gone this weekend,” she nodded and slid the phone back into her purse. “So I won’t have to worry.”
“The ones you were helping with a small problem,” he recalled, removing his arms from
the table when the food arrived.
“The plates are very hot, so please be careful,” the woman told them, laying out the plate of creamy pasta and prawns in front of Vianne and the mixed plate of vegetables and local seafood over rice in front of Tanner. “Anything else?”
“Another glass of wine, please,” he gestured to the empty glass by Vianne and thanked her. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day. I’ve only heard good things about the food here.”
“Mia has some amazing chef’s working with her,” Vianne said absently, lifting one of the large prawns and peeling the shell from it before biting down hungrily.
“You know her? Personally?”
“I do. I met her through some other friends,” Vianne wound the long, thick pasta around her fork. “The six degrees of separation truly works in this environment, believe me.”
“Can I ask what you were helping your friends with earlier?” Tanner settled back in the chair, watching his plan unfold as she ate and relaxed with him.
Vianne studied him, considering her response.
“I think it might be best if I not talk about it right now. I have to do some research for the story and find a way to keep Erika out of it,” Vianne ate slowly.
“Is it dangerous, Vianne?” Tanner felt the back of his neck prickle but wasn’t sure if it was because she’d lie to him or because instinct was telling him it was dangerous. When she remained silent, he sighed. “If you want a promise that I won’t disclose anything you tell me, you have it. I don’t break promises.”
“And you don’t lie,” she said quietly. “Were you a boy scout?”
“Just a lucky kid with good role models,” he told her honestly.
“Dangerous,” she repeated the word slowly, lifting another large prawn and peeling it slowly. “Anytime politicians are involved…I honestly don’t know, Tanner. I only found out about an hour before I met you for dinner, so at the moment, it’s kind of percolating inside my head on who I can tap for information.”
WindSwept Narrows: #22 Erika & Vianne Page 17