Shoving her phone into the black patent-leather clutch, she ruined the outfit as usual by shrugging into her puffy blue winter coat. She gave the cat a stroke to calm herself.
As she walked out the battered front door, she saw Gavin leaning against the fender of a low, sleek car with black paint that glinted in the city lights. He was dressed exactly as he’d said he would be—all dark and perfectly tailored—which made him look as powerful and dangerous as the car.
Desire poured through her. She wanted to press herself against that gorgeous, hard body she’d become so familiar with and wind her fingers into his thick, dark hair. She wanted those perfectly curved lips on hers while his hands explored her skin. Gavin had stopped whatever was about to start between them, so he probably wouldn’t initiate it again. But if he did, she had to stay in command of her rioting senses and call a halt herself.
“Good evening, Allie,” he said, straightening before he swung open the passenger door. “I’d say you look lovely, but it’s hard to tell under the quilt you’re wearing.”
She knew the coat wasn’t exactly high fashion, but all her insecurities surged back. Then she laughed with a certain relief. Gavin’s snarkiness had undercut her sudden flare of arousal. “The weather is too cold for elegance.”
“My car is already warmed up, so you might want to remove your Arctic-level outerwear.”
“Okay.” She unzipped her puffy jacket and started to shrug out of it. Gavin’s fingers brushed the nape of her neck as he did the gentlemanly thing and took her wrap. She closed her eyes while desire shimmered through her all over again.
He tossed her coat into the backseat and offered his hand to help her into the front. It would be rude to ignore his gesture, so she put her hand in his, feeling another shudder of longing when his warm, strong fingers closed over hers. Thank God he was driving so he would have his hands occupied.
As he slid into the driver’s seat, she said, “You didn’t want a chauffeur tonight?”
“Nathan has parking at his building, and I like to take the Maserati out for a spin myself.” The city lights caught the flash of his smile. “Julian Best doesn’t care about cars, but I do. This beauty is my favorite. She does zero to sixty in under five seconds.”
She couldn’t take her eyes off his hands as they stroked the gleaming wood of the steering wheel. “Do you know how to fly a plane, like Julian?”
“Yes, but I’m more of a sailor.”
“So you have a yacht?”
He gave her a sideways glance. “A sailboat.”
“The only boat I know my way around is a canoe,” she said.
“Isn’t West Virginia famous for white-water rafting?”
“I’ve done that a few times, but always with a guide.” She’d loved it, even when she got dumped out of the raft in the middle of the frothing rapids.
“Intrepid Allie. You’ll have to come sailing with me sometime.”
“Sure.” That wasn’t going to happen.
Jane had hired her to work with Gavin for only five days, and Gavin had not rehired her for next week. So, technically speaking, their patient-therapist relationship was over. But it left her in a kind of ethical limbo, because she hoped Gavin would ask her to continue treatment. He certainly needed more. “How’s your neck feeling?”
“On a pain scale of one to ten”—she could hear the smile in his voice—“about a three, which is damned impressive for five days of therapy. But let’s not talk about work tonight.”
“So no Julian?”
He shook his head. “Tell me about your hometown of Sanctuary. The name alone is intriguing.”
Allie had often used cozy stories about her hometown to help clients relax with her. But, of course, Gavin didn’t allow her to skim the surface. He asked questions about what kinds of jobs people did there, how lively the cultural scene was, the ways people socialized. He rolled the names of people she knew around on his tongue. Even though he was blocked, she could tell his writer’s brain was at work, gathering material.
Not that she minded. She liked talking about her roots. Until Troy had forced her to leave, she’d been happy there. She wished she could still find contentment at home.
“And here we are,” Gavin said, spinning the wheel to turn into a driveway guarded by a bulky man in a dark uniform. The guard scanned Gavin’s driver’s license with a handheld gizmo before a massive metal gate swung inward to reveal a valet station. Two young men leaped forward to open their car doors. “Put it in Nathan Trainor’s garage,” he said, handing his key to the valet. He took Allie’s elbow and led her toward a bronze door tucked into a corner. Another valet swiped a card to unlock the elevator, and the gleaming door slid open.
“Wow!” Allie breathed, taking in the polished wood paneling set in frames of bronze that matched the door. “It’s like a fortress.”
“The downside of wealth,” Gavin said, setting the elevator in motion. “There are security cameras everywhere and a battalion of bodyguards in the building.”
“Do you have bodyguards, too?” She hadn’t noticed any at his house, although she had spotted the outside security cameras.
“Sometimes. People are less inclined to kidnap writers.” His smile was grim. “Even bad guys feel sorry for us.” He stepped away from her to skim his gaze down her body. “Now that I can see you, may I say that your attire is perfect for a dinner with billionaires? In fact, you look so lovely that I’m tempted to keep you all to myself.”
“Say it as often as you want,” Allie said, but her pulse throbbed at the seductive caress of his voice.
Fortunately, the elevator door slid open, offering a much-needed distraction. As she looked around, Allie nearly gasped out loud. They were in an entrance hall that rivaled any mansion’s. The floor was an ornate marble mosaic while a curving staircase soared upward past a magnificent chandelier. A man in a navy blue suit with hair graying at the temples stepped forward.
“Evening, Ed,” Gavin said, shaking hands with the other man. “Allie, this is Ed Roccuzzo, Nathan’s majordomo and a former drill sergeant.”
“Ms. Nichols,” Ed said, taking her proffered hand. “A pleasure.”
Allie wasn’t sure what a majordomo did, but she knew to respect a drill sergeant. “Please call me Allie.”
He nodded and turned. “Follow me, if you would.”
They walked down a hallway past huge rooms furnished with perfectly chosen furniture and artwork. Allie couldn’t believe she was inside a skyscraper. Ed stopped in front of a door and gestured them through. Six people were seated around a massive glass coffee table in front of a roaring fire. Beyond them a wall of windows displayed the sparkling lights of nighttime Manhattan.
“Allie, Gavin!” Chloe jumped up from the comfortable-looking modular couch, her brown hair catching gleams of firelight, and gave them each a quick hug. “Come and sit. What would you like to drink?”
Allie wanted water, but there wasn’t a single water glass on the coffee table. “White wine, please?”
“Chardonnay, pinot grigio, or sauvignon blanc?” Ed’s voice came from just behind her.
She pivoted and gave him an overwhelmed smile. “Whatever’s open.”
He winked at her, and she felt better.
Chloe drew them over to the table, where introductions were made. The other guests were the Archers, Ben Cavill, and Priscilla Duval, who had once worked at Trainor Electronics. Priscilla was tall, slender, and so elegant that Allie felt like a frump once again. As Chloe settled them all, Allie found herself beside the doctor, which suited her just fine. Medical matters were well within her wheelhouse, and she could watch Gavin out of the corner of her eye.
“Our guests of honor are stuck in traffic,” Nathan said, “so we’ll wait a little longer for dinner.”
Allie checked out the clothes. The ladies wore pants and blouses just like she did, and the gentlemen were casual in trousers and open-necked shirts. Everyone else might be wearing couture, but at least her ensemble
didn’t stick out like a sore thumb. Her anxiety trickled away, leaving her relaxed enough to enjoy herself.
The conversation ranged over topics even Allie could contribute to occasionally, although mostly she watched. Chloe was a warm, attentive hostess. However, every now and then, her gaze would go to the gray-eyed, intense Nathan, and the two would exchange a look filled with love. Then there was the blond football legend, Luke Archer, who kept his beautiful, dark-haired wife tucked firmly against his side in a way that tugged at Allie’s heart. So rich people could fall in love, too.
Voices came from the hallway, and everyone swiveled to see Ed usher in another couple. Allie couldn’t believe her eyes when a dark-haired woman with the lovely, serene face of a Madonna glided into the room. Allie stood up abruptly. “Claire? Claire Parker?”
Claire halted and stared. “Wait! Is that Allie Nichols?” she asked.
“I can’t believe it!” Allie said, rounding the sofa and hugging Claire. “I haven’t seen you in, what, ten years?”
“I’m so sorry about your mother’s passing,” Claire said, taking both of Allie’s hands. “She was a wonderful lady. Always ready to lend a helping hand to anyone in need.”
“I miss her,” Allie said, feeling the tears prickle. “How’s your sister doing?”
Claire’s eyes lit with joy. “So much better since she left Frank. In fact, I think we may have a wedding sometime soon. She and Robbie McGraw.”
The giant of a man standing beside Claire cleared his throat.
“Oh, Tim. I’m so sorry. We got caught up in catching up.” Claire smiled in apology. “Allie, this is my husband, Tim Arbuckle.”
“You took over Doc Messer’s veterinary practice,” Allie said, putting her hand in Tim’s enormous grasp.
“You must be from Sanctuary,” Tim said, a twinkle in his eyes. He had a slow smile that made you trust him instantly.
Allie laughed. “How did you guess?”
“It seems to be old home week,” Gavin said from beside Allie. She hadn’t noticed his approach.
Claire threaded her arm through Allie’s. “We all grew up in the same town. I’m a few years older than Allie, but it’s a small place, so everyone knows everyone. Well, except for Tim, because he left when he was really young and returned just a couple of years ago.”
Chloe joined the little group, her face glowing with delight. “I’m patting myself on the back for bringing you all together. Not that I knew I was doing it, but I’ll take credit anyway.”
They decided to go right in to dinner because Tim confessed that he was hungry. “It takes a lot of fuel to keep this body going,” he said.
“I hear you,” Luke Archer said.
As they walked down the hall to the dining room, Claire fell into step beside Allie. “How do you know the Trainors?” she asked in a low voice.
“I just met them. I’m Gavin’s physical therapist,” Allie said. “What about you?”
“I started as Nathan’s art adviser, back when I was in New York. He walked into the gallery where I worked when he started collecting,” Claire said. “But we’ve become friends. I just brought up a new Julia Castillo painting he bought and advised him on the best place to hang it.”
“I heard you’d gotten famous in the art world,” Allie said. “I love it when a fellow mountaineer hits it big.”
Chloe was arranging her guests around the oblong table in the dining room. “I have to do a little regrouping based on our newly discovered connections,” she said, putting Allie between Tim and Gavin.
“Let’s find time to talk later,” Claire said.
As Allie waited for everyone to settle, she glanced around the room. Two chandeliers that looked more like sculptures than light fixtures hung over the polished wooden table with its inlaid border. An enormous Oriental rug covered most of the floor. The walls appeared to be covered in a shimmering green fabric. Another wall of windows offered a view of the Hudson River.
The table itself was set with leather place mats and gleaming modern silver flatware, centered by a row of pillar candles alternating with bowls of orchids. It was simple but beautiful in a way that only lots and lots of money could create.
Yet she wasn’t the only person from Sanctuary, West Virginia, at this table. She sat up straighter.
“You’re not going to spend the entire dinner reminiscing about riding your ponies down to the old watering hole, are you?” Gavin’s tone bordered on obnoxious.
“We might even throw in a yeehaw or two,” Allie said, amused by his crankiness. He almost sounded jealous.
Luke Archer heard the exchange from across the table and nodded, his pale blue eyes picking up the flicker of the candle flames. “Don’t let him get under your skin, Allie. It’s best to ignore him when he’s in one of his moods.”
“I rescind my apology, Archer,” Gavin said.
“I knew it was too good to be true,” Luke responded.
Nathan laughed. “You should have gotten it in writing.”
“You forget that I haven’t written anything in months,” Gavin said. But this time it was a joke, not a bitter statement of fact.
Allie was fascinated by the three men. They appeared to be so different, yet the bond between them was strong and clear. She didn’t think it was based solely on their wealth, although that seemed like the only common denominator among a genius tech CEO, a newly retired sports legend, and a bestselling novelist.
A squadron of servers glided into the room and placed plates of trout pâté on crisply toasted bread rounds in front of each guest. She bit into one and nearly groaned at the subtle deliciousness.
“Is this Grandmillie’s secret family recipe, Chloe?” Miranda asked. “You have to persuade her to share!”
“Grandmillie won’t even share it with me,” Chloe said. “Only our chef, Bernard, knows the ingredients, and he is very closemouthed. Something about honor among cooks.”
The conversation went on to a wide array of subjects ranging from intense to humorous. Allie occasionally joined in, especially when the topic turned to Sanctuary. Mostly, though, she savored the fantastic food and tried not to shiver when Gavin’s arm brushed against hers. Or when he threw her a sideways look that invited her to share some private amusement.
She’d been close to him during their treatment sessions, but mostly he’d been facedown. Now she could see the way his hair waved over his temples and notice the tiny scruff of his dark whiskers. Like Luke’s, his eyes reflected the candle flames, making them seem to dance. When he smiled, she could see how the skin stretched over the sharp, masculine line of his jaw. At one point, he put his arm around her shoulders when he extolled her skill as a PT. The weight and warmth of it penetrated through the silk of her blouse and soaked into her skin.
By the time the dessert of chocolate soufflé with warm vanilla sauce was served, Allie’s nervousness had dissipated. No one bragged about their private jets or their chauffeurs or their trips all over the world. Those things were simply part of their normal conversation, as though there was nothing extraordinary about them. It made the gulf between her and these people seem as wide and deep as the Grand Canyon, but it didn’t bother her anymore. She could hold her own here.
Chloe rose from the table with her cheery smile. “Let’s have after-dinner drinks in front of the fire. This is the kind of weather that demands some extra warmth.”
Allie wondered if she could ask for hot chocolate as an after-dinner drink and smiled at herself.
“Share the joke?” Gavin murmured near her ear as they both stood.
“I’m just being a hillbilly,” Allie said, shaking her head.
“You know, there are three West Virginians at this party, and I wouldn’t call any of them hillbillies,” he said. “Tim’s medical research held Ben spellbound. Claire advises the most sophisticated collectors on what artwork to spend millions on. And you are a miracle worker.”
“Hillbilly is a badge we wear proudly.” But gratification sent a flush
climbing her cheeks.
“I’m beginning to understand that.”
As they started toward the door, Gavin put his hand on the small of her back to steer her in front of him. She felt the imprint of his palm and the splay of his fingers like a brand on her skin. The heat spread over her back and scorched deep inside her. It was tempting to stay close to him so he would leave it there, but she forced herself to take a step away. When his hand dropped, she nearly groaned in deprivation.
Back in the den—or whatever they called the big, comfortable room—Allie made sure there was another person between her and Gavin at all times. Yet she could often feel his gaze on her. She made a tactical error and sat down on an empty couch to talk with Miranda, who had also grown up in a small town. Allie felt the cushions shift as a weight settled beside her. A delicious tingle wafted over her skin, so she knew it was Gavin without having to turn in her seat.
“Did you know that Miranda can milk a cow in under nine minutes?” Gavin’s deep voice seemed to stroke up and down her back. “Can a hillbilly do that?”
Allie sat back so the three of them could see one another. “One of my best friends from home can, but I’m not a farmer’s daughter.” He knew that, of course.
“Gavin’s pretty handy on a farm himself,” Miranda said, her brown eyes warming. “Last fall he came up to my family’s place in upstate New York with Luke and hauled hay and feed, not to mention loading the cheese van.”
“If you dare to tell her what I wore to load the van, I will share a photo of your husband in the same attire on social media,” Gavin said.
“I thought you’d already tweeted that,” Miranda said, a teasing note in her soft voice.
“That was your husband’s threat, not mine,” Gavin responded. “He’s the one with three-quarters of a million followers. I don’t tweet.”
“Okay, now I’m dying of curiosity,” Allie said. “Do you really have photos?”
Miranda gave a low peal of laughter. “No, they blackmailed each other into not taking any.”
The VIP Doubles Down (Wager of Hearts Book 3) Page 11