Uh-oh. She had to watch her words. Working with Tyler was going to pose more problems than her attraction to him. “A not-so-nice suburb of St. Louis, Missouri. I had to learn early how to protect myself.”
Tyler squeezed her upper arm, grinning mischievously. “You've got a set of muscles all right.”
“Trust me, it takes more than physical strength to survive the streets. You've got to be mentally tough and not show any sign of fear. Otherwise, they'll chew you up.”
“They?”
“The streets.”
“Do your parents still live in Missouri?”
“I don't have a clue where my Dad is. He left before I was born.”
“And your mother?”
“She's dead.”
“I'm sorry.” Tyler gazed compassionately down at her.
“Don't be. She's been gone a long time.”
They finished the walk in silence and Tyler led her up a flight of stairs to a wooden deck where heat emanated from the gas grill beside sliding doors opening to his kitchen.
He retrieved a platter and placed the meat on the grill. “I figured we could share with Tiffany.”
Grace laughed. “I fed her before we came. I don't give her table scraps. You're a vet. Don't you recommend high-priced dog food, and give lectures on the perils of people food?”
“Nope. I believe in spoiling.”
They chatted about the proper way to raise pets while Tyler tended the steaks.
He hadn't exaggerated. They were mouth-wateringly perfect. Baked potatoes, salad and wine completed the meal. When they'd cleared the dishes, they sat in chairs on the deck. Gas torches flickered giving a romantic glow to the growing dusk.
“How long have you lived here?” Tyler asked.
“Three years.”
Tyler put his feet on the railing. “I think I'm going to like it. When I was a kid, we lived in a small town where everybody knew everybody else's business. Back then I hated it. Couldn't wait to get away. Then after college I couldn't wait to get back.”
“Then why did you leave? What brought you to Foxfire?”
He winked at her. “The scenery, what else?” He stood and leaned his elbows on the railing, gazing out into the trees. “Even at night, it's beautiful.”
That was the second time he'd avoided revealing the reason he'd moved to Foxfire. Harri's words came back to her that Tyler was hiding something. But Grace shrugged it off. Nothing about Tyler seemed threatening. Besides, everyone had secrets to guard.
Tiffany yawned loudly.
Grace mirrored Tyler's stance, leaning over the railing. “Did you know that sometimes you can see foxfire glowing along the ground?”
“I thought that was a legend. It's true then? Have you ever seen it?”
She nodded. “It's beautiful and haunting at the same time.” His shoulder brushed hers. A shiver crawled up her spine.
He draped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. “Are you cold? Do you want to go inside for a while?”
His hand caressed her arm. Goosebumps arose that had nothing at all to do with being chilled.
“I'm not cold. I love being outside. We have one thing in common. I moved here for the mountain scenery and serenity, too.”
He turned her to face him. “And we both love animals. We seem to have a lot in common.” His thumbs caressed her cheeks.
Her heart tripped faster. His nostrils did that little flare thing again, which she found totally sensuous.
“That's true.” Her voice came out an octave higher than usual. She cleared her throat.
He lifted her and sat her on the railing facing him. She placed her hands on his shoulders for balance. Her whole body felt as if it were melting. Like the witch in The Wizard of Oz, soon she'd be nothing but a puddle at his feet.
“So when do we see this foxfire?” he asked.
Small talk, she told herself. Focus on the small talk, not on his face. Not on the way the torches add highlights to his dark hair. Not on the fact that his arms surrounded her, resting on either side of her hips.
“Only when the moon is full and the night is bright.”
“Ah, unlike tonight.” He gazed up at the sky where clouds hid most of the stars.
She stared at the expanse of his neck and the dark hairs that had escaped the neckline of his shirt. “Too overcast,” she said.
He lowered his head and stared at her. Not just stared but stared. The message in his eyes tapped on her heart.
He brushed a knuckle under her chin.
“You're beautiful.”
She fought against the growing attraction. She couldn't handle an affair with this guy. He'd eat her alive.
She tried to jump down, but his hands spanned her waist pulsing heat waves through her body. The jump turned into a slow body slide. Her hands gripped his shoulders a little tighter. Her breath caught in her throat, releasing when her toes finally touched the deck. Her head spun, sending her closer against his chest. His arms closed around her. Her heart and mind battled and her heart won.
She parted her lips and suddenly they were pressed against his. He took the kiss deeper, his hands sliding upward, thumbs brushing the sides of neck. It wasn't enough. She wanted more. Needed more. Ached for his intimate touch.
She ran her hands through his collar-length hair, loving the feel of the silky thick strands. His tongue teased her, begging and offering more.
****
Tyler wanted to scoop her up and carry her to his bed. His thumbs circled the soft flesh of behind her ears, emboldened by her passionate response. He flicked his tongue against her lips and she opened, accepting his advance. A little voice whispered that he shouldn't be doing this, but he ignored it, giving in to the hunger of the moment.
Someone moaned. He thought it was her, but it might have been him. He pulled her closer, caught up in a heart-pounding desire that burned higher with every passing second.
Her passion overwhelmed him, sucking him into a swirling vortex. She said she didn't want another relationship. Neither did he. Yet, here he was, all wrapped up in Grace Wilkins. Surprise, surprise.
He stepped backward taking her with him until a sharp painful yip stopped him. “What?” He sidestepped, trying to maintain their balance.
Grace shoved against his chest, her eyes round and dilated, frightened like a deer caught in the headlights. He read the feeling of panic in her gaze. He didn't believe what had happened any more than she did. He should be thankful for small favors, because if it hadn't been for the dog, he'd have ripped off Grace's clothes and sated his long suppressed sexual desires. The electricity pulsing between them nearly sparked in the dark.
Grace knelt beside Tiffany, stroking her fur. “Poor baby. Are you all right,” she murmured.
He closed his eyes and dropped his head back. What poor timing.
Things had escalated so fast. One moment he'd been talking about the legendary foxfire, the next he'd been on fire for Grace. And the flames still seared him. Over the blood pounding through his head, he tried to grab hold of reason. The woman was dangerous. He'd come here to do a job one that didn't include seducing Grace Wilkins.
He knelt to check the dog for injuries. The bulge against his zipper grew tighter and more painful. Obviously unscathed, Tiffany leaped up, knocking him on his butt. Her tail wagged in wild abandon.
Grace gave a short laugh, then clapped her hand over her mouth.
He looked at her. She licked her swollen lips, which did nothing to ease his tortured libido. The torches played softly across the sprinkle of freckles on her nose. Whatever hold she had on him wasn't letting go. He could see in her eyes that she'd regained control. He had to do the same. He'd come to Foxfire to forget, not to get involved. “I'm sorry,” he said.
“It was an accident. Tiffany's not hurt.” She pushed to her feet.
“I wasn't talking about the damn dog!”
She placed her hands on those curvy hips. “She has a name. Tiffany.” Her chin jerked h
igher, pointing at him in an accusatory manner. “And she's not a damn dog.”
He felt like an idiot sitting on the deck arguing with the woman he'd nearly undressed.
Tiffany licked his face, further deflating his libido. “Yeah,” he said. He pushed Tiffany's head away from his face. “She's a great dog.”
He met Grace's gaze. “I'm sorry about...you know, trying to ravage you.”
“Ravage? Do you read romance novels or what?” She glared down at him. “We kissed. That's all. People kiss all the time. Forget about it. I already have.”
Forget? Was she kidding? He'd remember every pleasurable second of that kiss. He still wanted to make love to her. How in the world would he be able to look at her day in and day out and keep his hands off?
The torches flickered, casting a shadow across her face. What secrets did she hide behind those beautiful blue eyes? He sensed she'd been hurt, and that connected with a nerve deep inside. His own hurt ran deep and it still cut at him, slicing his gut like a piece of broken glass. Guilt rode his dreams at night. Sometimes he thought he'd never be able to forget, to forgive.
He knew most of her secrets, or at least the worst of them. And he meant to protect her while he used her to get what he wanted. Getting emotionally involved was not an option.
His plans had been to bury himself in the mountains and his work, but he hadn't planned on finding Grace Wilkins so tempting. Nor had he planned on her having the power to open his wounds again.
“You expect me to forget that kiss?” he asked, giving her a wink.
She glared at him. “I do. And if anyone should apologize it's me. I took advantage of you.”
He forced a grin. “Grace, you didn't take advantage of me. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I thought you were the sexiest woman I'd ever seen. Having you here, all alone, well I couldn't resist.” He stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. “But I promise to keep my hands to myself from now on.”
Was that regret he saw in her eyes or only his wishful thinking? Tyler glanced at his watch. “It's getting late. Tomorrow's a working day for both of us.”
Grace dusted her bottom. “You're right. I should be going.”
“I'll walk you home.”
“No need. Tiffany and I'll be fine.”
“Humor me.” He followed her down the steps. “My mother taught me to be a gentleman. I open doors for women, lift heavy packages, and always walk my dates to their door.”
“It wasn't a date, Tyler.”
He let her keep the illusion. When they reached her cabin, he waited until she opened the door and flipped on a light.
She turned to face him. “Thanks for dinner.”
“You're welcome.”
She started to close the door, but he called out. “Grace?”
“Yes?”
“Be sure to lock your door.”
Chapter Six
Torture. No other word could describe the agony of being near Tyler while maintaining what Grace hoped was a professional demeanor. Would this day never end? Each time she met his eyes, her lungs squeezed out every bit of air, leaving her feeling as if she'd just run a long-distance marathon.
Yet, Tyler didn't seem the least bit affected. He'd given her a lab coat, much too large, and laughed after she slipped it on and it hung to her knees. He smiled each time he handed her a patient's chart, and if his heart beat faster when their hands accidentally touched, his expression didn't show it. She supposed she should be grateful.
All morning, she created new patient files, diligently entered information into the computer, collected payments, and chatted with pet owners. She handled dogs and cats of all sizes, including Muffin, who was determined to sit on the mouse pad and stare at the cursor flicking across the monitor.
By the end of the day, Grace could hardly wait to get home. Tiffany ran off toward Brad's, but Grace had no such intentions. All she wanted was to eat a salad, read the paper, pay her bills, and go to bed. Tomorrow being Saturday, she'd only have to endure the torture for a few hours. Somehow she needed to forget about that kiss. Tyler obviously had.
He'd been all business, never once even hinting that he found her attractive, or sexy, or irresistible. That's what really upset her. Not that she wanted him to, of course, but he had said he'd never forget.
She fixed a salad and opened the newspaper. One look at the headline had her coughing and spitting sweetened tea across the print. There on the front page was a picture of her and Connor. She recognized it as one taken at a fundraiser they'd attended several weeks ago. Connor smiled into the camera, his arm draped possessively across her shoulders. The headline read “What's the Verdict, Counselor?” She scanned the article, which questioned why the two of them hadn't been seen in public together lately. They reported that she no longer worked for the D.A.'s office, and Connor had been spotted having dinner with another woman.
She smiled. Connor must be seething. Sooner or later he'd have to fabricate a story of why they'd split. The humor of his dilemma filled Grace with malicious glee. Let him say derogatory things about her. She could care less. Years ago she'd been branded by the press. They couldn't hurt her now. It would serve Connor right if they learned the truth about her past.
She finished her salad and skimmed the rest of the paper before Tiffany scrambled her way through the pet door.
“Are you hungry?” Grace set the paper aside. A tapping on the door startled her until she heard Brad's voice.
“How was your first day at the clinic?” he asked, entering the room.
“Fine.” Grace filled Tiffany's bowl, then reached for a glass from the cabinet. “Tea?”
Brad pulled out a chair and seated himself. “No coffee?”
“I can brew a pot.”
He waved a hand. “Don't bother. Tea's fine. Where'd you get the rose?”
“Adam.”
Brad scrunched his brows together. “Adam?”
“I think so. I found it on the porch yesterday. I think he has a crush on me.”
Brad grunted.
“I don't want to hurt his feelings, but I've got to let him know I'm not interested in him in that way.”
“Want me to talk to him?”
“No, I can handle it. So what's new with you?”
“Same old, same old. Harri stopped by today.”
“Uh-oh. Is that why you're here?”
“She's worried about you. You know how she gets when she thinks she's had a sign.”
“You don't put much stock in her psychic powers.”
“Nope. Doesn't matter though. She believes enough for both of us.”
Grace twirled the glass, studying the light shining through the ice cubes.
“So here I am. Want to tell me what's bothering you? And don't say, nothing. I know you well enough to read that look on your face.”
What could she tell him? That she didn't want to have a relationship with Tyler and he felt the same, yet she was upset about it? It even puzzled her why she felt hurt over his lack of attention today.
Grace met his concerned gaze. “I can't hide anything from you two. You probably know what I'm buying you for your birthday.”
Brad's face lit with mirth. “I don't think Harri will give away that secret. But, don't change the subject. What's bothering you, hon?”
Who better to confide in than her best friend? She exhaled a long exasperated breath. “It's Tyler, and it's all your fault.”
“Mine?”
“You told him I was looking for a job.”
“So? Now you have one. What's wrong with that?”
“So, maybe I think he's...attractive.”
Brad's grin grew larger. “Why's that a problem, darlin?”
Grace groaned. “Brad, come on. He's my boss. Look what happened with Connor.”
Brad squeezed her hand. “Tyler's not Connor. He's a fine young man with a sense of honor. You can't compare the two.”
“Maybe not, but he's my boss. I don't need the complications.”
“Is that what's bothering you or is it that headline in the paper?”
“You saw that, too?” She grimaced. “No. That's not bothering me. I find it amusing, though I can't figure out why Connor wants to keep our break-up a secret. It's not like he's planning on telling them why. He could blame it on me and get their sympathy. I don't know why he's so worried.”
“Maybe he knows they'll take your side. After all, the press loves you. I don't think they really give a damn about Connor. He doesn't stand a chance of winning the election.”
She frowned. “Why not? He's the perfect politician. He lies smoothly with a cool smile.”
Brad made a scoffing noise. “That's probably true, but everyone can see right through his fancy words to the self-serving shell he really is.”
“You don't have a very high opinion of him.”
“Nope. And not just because he hurt you.”
“He didn't really hurt me, Brad. Only my pride. I'm as much at fault as Connor.” She grinned remembering what happened yesterday. “I did get even though.”
“Yeah?”
She stood and leaned against the counter.
“Connor showed up here yesterday offering to have a discreet affair with me.”
“What?” Brad jumped from his chair. Red suffused his face.
“Don't get your blood pressure up. Tiffany chased him off.”
“Tiffany,” he sputtered. “That mutt wouldn't hurt a flea.”
“You should have seen him trying to fold himself into that little sports car while I threatened to let my 'trained-to-kill' guard dog loose.”
“Trained-to-kill?” He slapped his leg, and belly laughed. Tiffany squirmed over to lean against him. He patted her head. “Good girl.” He looked up at Grace with a huge smile. “Honey, I'd have paid to see that.”
Grace chuckled. “It was funny. She took off after him like she meant to chomp off his leg, but what she did was much better.”
Brad looked at her questioningly.
“She scratched his precious car.” Grace dissolved in laughter.
Brad guffawed.
When he caught his breath he said, “Serves him right. If I'd been here, I might have put a bullet hole through the fender.”
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