Rachel stared, bemused, until he nodded at the waiter and the poor man walked away. When she opened her mouth, intending to tell him how it all sounded, Garrett held up his hand.
“Do you want to know what Luke and Jase had to say? Because if you do, you’re going to let me buy you a nice dinner, and you’re going to order some real food with your salad.” He leaned toward her. “Besides, the hotel is picking up part of it. Remember?”
“You talked to your friend Jase, too? What’s going on, Garrett?” Suddenly, her observation that he was getting a little too free with his coercion didn’t seem important.
He reached for her hand. “Our friend outside the lodge yesterday morning? He came back. Luke and Jonathan caught him planting listening devices in your room.”
Rachel’s other hand flew to her mouth. “What happened? Did they call the sheriff?”
“Apparently, Jonathan has the same opinion of Sheriff Connors as you do, so the two of them thought they could get the truth from the man themselves.” Garrett went silent as the waiter returned with their wine, opened the bottle, and poured a small amount in one of the glasses that Garrett tasted and pronounced satisfactory. The waiter than poured a glass for both of them and left the bottle.
“They didn’t torture him, did they?” Rachel could barely hold in her question until they were alone again. Was it possible it was Jeremy they’d caught red-handed?
“Well, as you know, my brother is a SEAL, and Lord knows what Jonathan did with his time before he moved to Idaho. But I’m going to assume the answer to your question is no since they didn’t get much information. The guy wouldn’t even give his name. They were just about to change their minds and call the sheriff when he insisted on talking to Jase.”
The waiter returned again with their appetizers. As soon as he left, Rachel cast a disbelieving look at Garrett. “Jase? Why Jase? Jeremy doesn’t know him.” She had to stop to catch her breath.
“The man we saw outside the lodge is a professional. I’d bet on that. I doubt if he’s your stalker, and I’d be surprised if he worked for Jeremy, either. Stalkers get off on stalking. Doesn’t seem feasible that he’d hire someone else to do what he enjoyed most. But we can’t rule it out completely.” He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles, sending a tingle up her arm. “Why he asked to speak to my PI—that’s something I’ll have to ask Jase tomorrow. He wants to talk to me . . . face-to-face . . . before we meet with the mystery man. He refused to say why, and that’s not like Jase at all. He’ll be here about noon.”
Garrett lifted the appetizer dishes one at a time and passed them to Rachel. She was in such turmoil over the possibility that Luke and Jonathan were holding Jeremy at the resort she forgot to turn up her nose at the tentacles on the deep-fried calamari. She had a bite anyway and washed it down with a swallow of wine.
An exasperated sigh escaped her lips, and Garrett frowned. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get Jase to answer my questions, sweetheart. We’ll know what’s going on tomorrow, and then we’ll decide if we’re going back.”
A question nagged at the fringes of her mind. “What happens if you decide to go back . . . and I decide not to?”
His expression went suddenly blank, giving her the answer she suspected. He looked away from her before he answered. “Let’s not worry about it tonight. We’ll have some dinner, some wine, and take Cowboy for a walk. Do you like classic cars?”
“Sure. You?” Rachel wasn’t really surprised by the sudden change of topic.
“I’m obsessed—old Model Ts, muscle cars, you name it. Anyway, the clerk at the desk when I registered said there’s a car show in town all week. We could check it out, if you’d like.” And there it was—the little boy’s grin that Rachel found so endearing.
Was it possible for her to forget about Jase and Jeremy for tonight? One look at Garrett’s eager face made her hope she could. “I’d love to. As long as Cowboy can go, too. He’s been stuck in that hotel room too long.” She flushed with heat as she suddenly remembered why.
By the amusement in Garrett’s eyes, he’d had no trouble following her train of thought. “Cowboy better damn well get used to it.” He leaned across the corner of the table that separated them and kissed her ear, his breath feathering her hair and causing a shudder along her spine.
Just then the waiter returned for their order. Rachel opened her menu, then closed it and turned to Garrett. Under the table, she dropped her hand on his knee and slid it slowly upward. “You know what I like, honey. Would you mind ordering for me?”
Garrett coughed and cleared his throat. His eyes turned almost charcoal as his gaze pierced her. “Of course, sweetheart. We’ll both have prime rib, medium rare, baked potatoes with the works on the side, and salads, ranch for the lady and bleu cheese for me. Can we get some water too, please? I’m suddenly really thirsty.”
“Very good, sir . . . miss.” The waiter gathered the menus and strode toward the kitchen.
Garrett’s brow shot up. “Well, well. Aren’t you full of surprises? Can’t wait to see what’s next.”
Rachel laughed softly, absurdly embarrassed by her brash advance. She jerked her hand away, but she wasn’t quite quick enough. Garrett snagged her wrist and guided her hand effortlessly to where the hard ridge lay just beneath the worn denim of his jeans. His eyes never left hers, the knowing grin he wore taunting her.
“I usually have more control, but I have to admit I like the way you get me all hot and bothered.” His deep voice sent tremors clear to her toes.
The hostess led a middle-aged couple to a nearby table and still Garrett’s gaze never wavered. “What now? Should we take this to our room? Or maybe we could enjoy an elevator ride. Do the nasty on the way to the top floor and back?”
Whether it was his melodramatic words or his solemn delivery, Rachel burst out laughing. And she couldn’t stop.
Garrett huffed, released her hand, and threw his own in the air in a gesture of defeat. Then he started to chuckle and shake his head.
Soon, Rachel was laughing so hard tears ran down her face. Finally, ignoring the couple within earshot of them, she stood and slid onto Garrett’s lap. She raked her fingers through his short hair, pulling his head down for a kiss. “You are the sexiest man I’ve ever met.”
“Aw . . . and sexy makes you laugh?” His confident smile teased her.
She shrugged. “I’m laughing because I was actually considering your irreverent suggestions—so not like me. Apparently, sexy makes me want to behave with abandon.”
Garrett wiggled his eyebrows above a wide grin. “I like that. You can let go of your inhibitions with me anytime. You’re safe with me.” He slapped her bottom playfully, and she leaned into him, giving him an over-the-top kiss that she hoped he took as a promise of good things to come.
Garrett’s cell phone vibrated, and he set her on her feet, retrieving the device from his back pocket. After taking one look at the screen, he sent the call to voice mail and turned his phone upside down on the table.
“Your wife?” Only half joking, Rachel tried to think of who else’s call he would avoid so blatantly while having dinner with her.
He rolled his eyes, clearly irritated. “There is no wife.”
“Girlfriend, then?” Rachel sat in her chair again.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” His words were almost a growl, and Rachel tried not to take them personally.
Their waiter and another staff member appeared with their salads and disappeared just as quickly. Garrett spread his napkin on his lap and started eating, obviously deep in private contemplation.
Rachel toyed with her salad greens.
After three minutes of excruciating silence, Garrett cleared his throat, causing her to glance up. He held his phone, screen facing her. The name of the person who’d just called was highlighted. She knew that name, and immediately understood why Garrett would ignore the call.
She turned sympathetic eyes on him. “Senator Harding?”
“Yeah.” Ga
rrett tossed the phone down. “I haven’t answered any of his calls since I left home for the lodge. He’s getting desperate.”
Rachel reached for his arm. “I understand why you’re upset with him. I am too, but you’ll have to talk sooner or later.”
Garrett scowled. “I want proof that he sent my mother away and purposely hid her efforts to contact us before I confront him. I’m afraid if he tries to deny it, I might do something stupid.”
“He’ll still be your father, you know, no matter what you discover.” As much as Rachel despised the man for what he’d done to Amanda and his own sons, she felt compelled to search for words that would comfort Garrett. “Maybe there’s an explanation—something you can live with.”
“Don’t defend him.” He pointed an accusing finger at her, but the anger had gone out of him. “You were ready to run me off that first day even though I was trying to save your ass—all because you were sure I’d done something you couldn’t live with.” A slow smile materialized as he reached to encircle her wrist and rub her palm with his thumb. “Getting some mixed signals here, sweetheart.”
Rachel cocked her head and looked him slowly up and down, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “If you are, it’s because you’re not reading them right. I’m glad I didn’t run you off, Garrett Harding.”
He winked at her as the waiter returned with their entrees.
Garrett made her feel . . . so many things. As if she was the most important person in the room. His smoldering gray eyes locked on hers, sliding away to follow the path of each person who encroached too closely on their table, or darting toward the door to evaluate the threat level of each newcomer who had the audacity to enter and request a table. Clearly, her safety was his priority, and his intimidating size, the muscles that rippled and flexed beneath his shirt, and the Colt .45 she suspected he carried tucked in his waistband all worked to produce her current sense of well-being.
That and possibly the wine. She pushed her empty plate away and frowned as he poured her the last of the ruby red liquid. “Wait a minute. You’re still on your first glass. Are you trying to get me drunk, sailor?”
Garrett regarded her over the rim of his glass as he sipped lazily. “I should take offense at the sailor crack, but since Luke is a navy man, I’ll let it go . . . this time. And the answer to your question is no. I don’t want you drunk. I just want you relaxed. I imagine it’s been a while since you let your guard down and tonight, while I’ve got your back, you can relax.”
She could have sworn she felt the heat of his sincerity, and for a moment, she was afraid she’d embarrass herself by crying. Truth was she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt truly safe. That Garrett, stranger and object of her disdain three days ago, had thought to give her the gift of his protection, even for one night, was nothing short of miraculous. No wonder she harbored impossible feelings for him. Feelings she could never put into words because his stay in Idaho was only temporary. His life was elsewhere.
Nonetheless, he was hers for tonight and maybe for a few more days. Earlier, she’d paraded naked in front of him, seduced him, and let him make love to her. The secret was out—she was attracted to him, and she felt as though she’d known him all her life, not just a matter of days. Still, it was no excuse. Bottom line—she’d had sex with a man she barely knew. She’d crossed a line—done something that could never be undone—yet here she sat, contemplating how they would spend the rest of their night. In the absence of any real shame, her desire for him remained.
“Ready to go?”
Rachel glanced up at the concern in his voice. It was uncanny how he seemed to read her mind. She forced herself to lighten up and smile. “Ready when you are.” She was a grown woman. She’d known what she was doing, and any consequences would be born with as much grace as possible. No way would she feel sorry for herself now. Nor was she willing to sacrifice the rest of her time with Garrett.
He motioned for the waiter, gave him a hefty tip and the two discount coupons that had been delivered to their room earlier. All the while, Rachel closed her eyes so she couldn’t possibly see how much of the bill Garrett was picking up, and they left the restaurant with her arm looped through his.
As soon as they were in the elevator, Garrett hit the button for the top floor, lifted her until she wrapped her legs around him, and leaned her against the wall, all before the door ground shut. His forceful kiss seared her lips and dragged the breath from her lungs. She was practically panting when he let her up for air.
Rachel eyed the slowly closing door. “Garrett. What if someone comes in?” A second later, the door glided shut, and she breathed easier.
He slid his hands up her thighs, pushing her short skirt out of his way. “I haven’t been able to get this out of my mind since the idea came up at dinner. I can be quick . . . when I have to.”
He probably would have been, if his hand hadn’t, at that instant, come in contact with the bare skin of her hips where panties should have been. Those expressive eyebrows shot upward. “Are you going commando?”
“No!” Rachel laughed. “It’s a thong.”
A groan broke from his chest. His hands caressed her bare buttocks and traced the edges of the fabric into intimate places. “You need to tell me about things like this. Hell, we could have had food delivered to our room.” A huge grin formed as he tested the stretch of the tiny strip of fabric barely covering her crotch. He reached for his fly.
Voices outside the elevator penetrated Rachel’s lust just as a beep, indicating the button had been pushed to reopen the door, was followed by clicking noises from the control panel. Slowly, the mechanism began its slow-motion journey to clear the way for whoever was waiting to enter.
Though she was confident her eyes held nothing but panic, Garrett’s were sparkling with amusement as he set her on her feet, helped her tug her skirt down, and slid around behind her, using her body to hide his fairly noticeable arousal. As though on cue, a young couple stepped into the elevator at that exact moment and pushed the button for the third floor. Silence reigned in the tiny compartment as the door slowly closed once more and they lifted off with a small jerk.
The girl might have been twenty-one on a good day with the right ID, but Rachel would never have served her. Yet it appeared someone hadn’t been as discriminating. She leaned heavily against the man, blowing bubbles with a large wad of gum, while she brazenly scrutinized Garrett. Rachel bit her lip to keep from laughing.
Garrett looped his arms around her middle and pulled her against him, kissing the top of her head. The girl skewered Rachel with a disgusted glare, then turned to her date and rubbed her heavily perfumed body against him. The poor guy had the good grace to at least appear embarrassed, but it was obvious she’d had too much to drink and whatever evening he’d hoped for was on a downhill slide.
It seemed like forever before the elevator slid to a halt, the door opened, and the man helped the girl stumble into the hallway. Rachel’s humor disappeared with them. One more glass of wine and that could have been her. Oh, Lord! She and Garrett had very nearly done the deed . . . in an elevator . . . where anyone might have seen them. How dare she judge that young woman when her own behavior today had been disgraceful. Worse . . . because she knew better.
Garrett’s laugh jarred her from her reverie as he stepped around her, hitting the button to close the door and send the elevator toward the top floor again. He turned and offered his hand. “Come here.”
Rachel tensed and hooked her thumb toward the door. “That was our floor.”
He took a deep breath, his gaze flitting over her face, the tiniest bit of concern darkening his countenance. “I know. Come here for a minute.”
She shook her head slowly. “No. Garrett, did you see her? Drunk and acting like a complete slut . . . in public. Getting lucky was clearly a foregone conclusion for her boyfriend, but I’m pretty sure he couldn’t wait to be rid of her.” The words spewed from her until she finally had to stop for a breath.
Garrett’s eyebrow lifted in that curious way he had, and he held his hand out to her again. “Rachel, please come here.” Only two feet separated them. He could easily have reached her, yet he waited, steadfast as always.
Rachel was torn between annoyance and gratitude. In the end, it was the sexy stubble on his face that made her mind up for her. She took a step toward him.
He met her in the middle, gripping her shoulders firmly. His expression was somber and desperate at the same time. For a heartbeat, she dreaded what he was going to say. Studying his eyes, she threaded her fingers through his hair, watching each strand fall back into place. His expression softened, his jaw unclenched, and he leaned his forehead against hers.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Sadness and a hint of accusation surrounded his whispered words.
Rachel closed her eyes tightly so there’d be no chance of seeing the emotions flit across his face. Somehow he knew. Had he compared her to that girl, too? Did she come off looking just as sleazy to him? She couldn’t put her finger on why it mattered—why it was suddenly so important that he respect her. She couldn’t stop thinking that the girl might have been just like her at one time. Did one small indiscretion lead to what she’d become? Maybe they were more alike than Rachel wanted to believe.
“I don’t want to be that—” She choked on the words.
He gave her a quick shake and her eyes popped open. “You’re not that girl.” The forcefulness of his words wouldn’t allow her to look away.
Something in his strength and the trace of anger in his eyes made her stand straighter. She saw nothing but acceptance in his expression and felt the pride in his touch. Her heavy spirit began to fall away as she grabbed on to the truth of how he saw her with all of her strength. If he could believe in her that much, why shouldn’t she? Self-assurance had never been lacking before.
Rachel tipped her chin so she looked directly in his eyes. “Well, just to be on the safe side, I think I’ll quit drinking.”
Garrett chuckled, and his concern dissolved into a crooked grin.
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