“Don’t be stubborn. Get in the car.”
“No,” she repeated, though the thought of all that air-conditioned comfort was way too tempting. “Go away. I don’t want to talk to you.”
“If you don’t get in, I’ll just be forced to park and walk with you. Then two of us will be miserable and courting sunstroke.”
He would do it, too. She could see the determination in the grim set of his jaw. “Okay, fine,” she said, grudgingly walking around the car to get in.
Rafe gave her a quick sideways glance. “Going anyplace in particular?”
“Away from you.”
His lips twitched. “Now that you know that’s out of the question, any other destination you’d care to try?”
“Home,” she said finally, then added hopefully, “alone.”
He shook his head. “Not an option. You don’t need to be alone, Gina. You need to talk this out with someone who knows all the facts, someone who’s a good listener.”
“Someone who wants to put me in jail?” she added wryly.
“Not you. Bobby Rinaldi,” he corrected.
She sighed and let that pass. She wasn’t convinced about that yet. Catching Rafe with Tony had shaken her. She had been counting on Tony to be the one person totally on her side, the one person who would give her a fresh start, no questions asked. His refusal to do so was Rafe’s doing and she wasn’t entirely sure of Rafe’s motives. Until she was, she wasn’t discussing anything about Café Tuscany with him.
That didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy his company, at least for an afternoon. Whatever else he was, Rafe O’Donnell was definitely a sexy distraction, a far cry from most of the men she’d crossed paths with lately. He was certainly an improvement over Bobby.
“Pull over,” she commanded.
He regarded her with a startled expression, but he actually did as she’d asked. Pleased, she grinned. “That was easier than I’d expected.”
“Care to explain what we’re doing on the side of the road?” he inquired lightly as an occasional car whizzed past.
“Here’s the deal. If you promise that you will not say another word about the restaurant or about my decision to stay in Winding River, I will go to Laramie with you.”
He didn’t immediately seize the offer the way she’d anticipated. Instead, his expression grew thoughtful.
“Why Laramie?” he asked.
She ticked off the reasons. “Because it is not Winding River, because we can go to a movie there, because I heard about a restaurant I’d like to try.”
“Aha,” he said, grinning at her. “That’s the real reason, isn’t it? You can’t help it. Even when you’re on some kind of break, you can’t resist checking out the competition.”
Gina frowned. “It’s not competitiveness. I just happen to like food.”
“Oh, really? When was the last time you actually ate a meal. I’ve been with you on several occasions lately, and though you talk a lot about food, you barely touch anything that’s put in front of you.”
“I haven’t been that hungry,” she said defensively. “Do you want to go to Laramie or not? Last chance. I can always drive myself.”
“Okay. Okay. Just point me the right way,” he said.
Gina gave him directions, then sat back, and for the first time since she’d talked to Bobby the day before, she began to relax as the miles flew by. Rafe flipped on the car radio and found a soothing oldies station that concentrated on ballads. By the time they reached the outskirts of Laramie, she was actually feeling pretty mellow.
“Lunch first?” he asked as he drove into downtown.
“Yes,” she agreed, suddenly starved. The restaurant she’d heard about was actually a coffee house with an interesting menu of salads, some of which she thought she might be able to incorporate into the Café Tuscany luncheon selections. Even as the prospect crossed her mind, she realized the incongruity of it. One minute she was ready to shut the place down, the next she couldn’t help planning for its future. Maybe she wasn’t as committed to giving up as she’d made herself believe. Funny how both Tony and, more important, Rafe had seen that when she hadn’t.
Gina studied the menu and found two or three different salads that sounded intriguing. She regarded Rafe hopefully. “Do you know what you want?”
“I was thinking about a burger,” he said.
She regarded him with undisguised regret, which he immediately picked up on. “What’s wrong with a burger?” he asked.
“Nothing, but would you mind getting a salad with it?”
“Why?”
“Because I want to sample three of these, and I’ll feel like an idiot if I have to order all of them myself. Not that it would be the first time. I once ordered half a dozen appetizers at a restaurant in Paris because I knew I’d never get back there. The waiter brought them all without a single comment, but the next thing I knew the entire wait staff and the chef were standing at the door of the kitchen staring at me as if I’d sprouted two heads.”
“Did that bother you?”
“No, but it kept me from taking notes,” she said sorrowfully. “I tried to write everything down after I left, but I couldn’t remember every ingredient the way I could have if I’d done it on the spot. It took me months of experimenting to be able to nail down some of the subtler spices.”
“So what you’re telling me is that I am about to help you steal some chef’s recipes,” Rafe said.
“I’m not going to steal them,” she protested even though he looked more amused than appalled by the notion. “I’ll enhance them.”
“An interesting distinction.” He glanced up at the waitress, then gestured toward Gina. “Talk to her. She knows what we’re both having.”
After she’d placed their order, Gina regarded him with a grin. “I like a man who’s not afraid to let a woman take charge.”
“And I like a woman with confidence,” he said. “It’s nice to see yours coming back. It’s also good to see you thinking about the future. I’m glad we came here.”
“So am I,” Gina said, her gaze locked with his.
“Are we having our first official date, Gina Petrillo?” he asked solemnly.
Her pulse fluttered at the suggestion. “I don’t know, are we?”
“It certainly seems that way to me.”
“Dating could be complicated,” she said with real regret. “Maybe we shouldn’t even think about it until…well, until everything is settled.”
“You’re probably right,” he agreed. “But that’s not what I want.”
“Neither do I,” she admitted in a whisper.
In fact, right this second with her heartbeat skittering crazily, she wanted very much to be on a first date with this man. She wanted to get to know what made him tick, wanted to feel his lips on hers again, wanted to feel his skin heat beneath her touch. It had been a very long time since she had wanted any of that, even longer since she had needed it the way she did right this minute. In fact, the way she was feeling was more appropriate to a fifth date, maybe even a tenth.
As if he sensed her turmoil, perhaps even shared it, he reached across the table and clasped her hand in his. There was strength and warmth in his touch. As the pad of his thumb grazed her palm, there was even more—a teasing hint of smoldering sensuality. Gina swallowed hard. Her gaze lifted, met his.
“Suddenly I’m not very hungry,” she said, watching closely for his reaction to the unspoken implications of that.
“Neither am I,” he said without hesitation, his gaze unwavering. “Do you want me to cancel the order?”
She shook her head, then chuckled at his obvious disappointment. It gave her courage. “Get it to go.”
Ten minutes later they had three carry-out orders of salad and a warm loaf of sourdough bread. Even though she felt almost giddy, Gina managed to get to the car without bursting into laughter at the waitress’s knowing expression.
“She knew,” she said, collapsing in the front seat with the stack
of take-out boxes. “She knew exactly what had happened, that we wanted each other more than food.”
“She did not,” Rafe insisted.
“Oh, yes, she did,” Gina argued. “She actually gave me a thumbs-up signal as we left.”
Rafe seemed vaguely startled. “Oh, really? Now what do you suppose she meant by that?”
“I hope you’re teasing,” Gina said.
He reached over and skimmed a finger along her cheek. “Why is that?”
“Because otherwise I am about to make a huge fool of myself,” she said.
“Oh?”
“I am about to suggest that we take all this food to a hotel room,” she said. When Rafe remained silent, she swallowed hard. “Well, have I made a fool of myself?”
“No,” he said, his voice suddenly husky. Though he’d been about to start the car, he dropped his hand away from the key and faced her. “But I want you to think about this. Is it really what you want? You don’t strike me as the kind of woman to engage in casual flings.”
She laughed at that. “If only you knew.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that I have never engaged in flings of any kind, casual or otherwise.”
His eyes widened. “You’re not…?”
“You can say the word,” she teased. “And, no, I’m not a virgin, though my experience is almost as limited. It’s just that it’s been years since I’ve had the time or the inclination to get involved with anyone. I try my best to forget about the last time I did.”
“Why now?” he asked. “Why me? As you pointed out earlier, this isn’t exactly an uncomplicated situation.”
“No,” she agreed.
“Is that part of the attraction? Because it’s a little dangerous?”
She considered the question, then shook her head. “No. If anything, that would make me run the other way.”
He regarded her ruefully. “I notice you’re not exactly gushing with a hundred reasons why you’ve chosen me to break your self-imposed celibacy.”
“Is that what you want? Do you want me to stroke your ego?”
“No, if there’s any stroking to be done, I can think of other parts I’d prefer to have you touching.”
Heat gathered low in her belly as his words sank in. “Then what is this hesitation about?” she asked.
He took her hand in his, turned it over and kissed her palm. “As much as I would like to take you to a hotel room and spend the rest of the afternoon letting you seduce me, I’m not going to do it,” he said with obvious regret.
Embarrassment flooded through her. When she would have jerked her hand away, he held it more tightly.
“One of these days you and I are going to end up in bed together,” he assured her emphatically. “Make no mistake about that. But when we do, it will be for the right reasons. It won’t be because you’re looking for a temporary escape from your problems.”
“That’s a lousy thing to say,” she told him heatedly, but then the truth hit her. That was exactly what she’d been looking for. She’d wanted a distraction, something to make her feel alive, and a quick romp with an extraordinarily virile man would have accomplished that.
She forced herself to meet his gaze. There was nothing condemning in his expression. If anything, he looked as if he completely understood her actions.
“I’m sorry,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper.
“Don’t be. Having a beautiful woman find me desirable, whatever the reason, is never a bad thing. I’m just holding out until it’s perfect.”
“That day might never come,” she said.
“It will,” he replied with total confidence. “Sooner than you think.” He gestured toward the boxes she was clutching with a white-knuckled grip. “Let’s go find some idyllic spot and have a picnic.”
“You’re not afraid to be alone with me?” she teased.
“No way,” he assured her.
“I could get carried away.”
He laughed at the suggestion. “Now, that is something to look forward to.”
Chapter Ten
Gina could have suffered from terminal embarrassment for throwing herself at Rafe, but he refused to allow it. By the time they’d shared their picnic, he had her laughing unselfconsciously again. Because of that, her feelings—and her respect—for him deepened a little more. So did the attraction, even though she couldn’t seem to shut out the fact that their relationship had begun with his insulting belief that she could be a thief.
But as the days wore on with no more calls from Bobby and little for her to do in Winding River, Gina began to feel more restless than ever. She couldn’t go on this way, not with Rafe looking over her shoulder—albeit with less suspicion. Cooking dinner for her parents and baking for her friends wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy her urge to be back in the kitchen cooking for a whole restaurant filled with satisfied customers.
After her outburst in his kitchen, accusing both Tony and Rafe of conspiring, Tony forgave her and let her fill in from time to time, but it wasn’t nearly enough. She was drifting and she didn’t like it. She had to do something to shake things up, something to get her life back on track.
Maybe it was time to get some sound legal advice. No, she corrected, the truth was, it was way past time. She’d been putting it off, pretending to herself that Bobby would show up and prove that it was all some terrible misunderstanding, a mistake that could be easily rectified. She had been deluding herself that he would straighten everything out so that she wouldn’t have to make any of the tough choices. Despite everything, despite all the evidence to the contrary, she hadn’t wanted to believe that a man she’d considered a friend, as well as a business partner, had betrayed her.
Clearly, she admitted with a sigh, she had been wrong. Bobby’s intentions weren’t honorable. And Deidre’s juggling act with the creditors couldn’t go on indefinitely. Gina couldn’t ask her to stand in the line of fire forever. This wasn’t Deidre’s problem to solve. It was hers.
She needed to make a decision, then get back to New York to handle the fallout herself, whether she chose to stay open and fight, as Tony and Rafe expected her to do, or to disappoint them both, sell or close the restaurant and pay off everyone she could.
Even though she hated involving her friends in what was happening, she knew that there wasn’t a better lawyer—a better advocate—around than Emma. Fortunately, Emma was scheduled to drive up from Denver on Friday morning. Gina resolved to be waiting for her.
She knocked on the front door at the ranch at ten, knowing that Emma would have gotten an early start. Mrs. Clayton greeted her with a smile and a glass of lemonade, just as she had countless times when she and Emma had been teenagers. There was something comforting about it. In many ways so little had changed in the past ten years. The bonds she had formed back then were still strong.
“Emma should be here soon. Are you sure you don’t want to wait inside?” she asked when Gina moved to sit in one of the rockers. “It’s a scorcher out there today.”
“Thanks. I’ll be fine on the porch, if you don’t mind. I need to have a few words in private with Emma.”
“Then I’ll get Caitlyn out of your hair as soon as they get here,” Mrs. Clayton promised, wiping her hands on her apron and taking a seat beside Gina. “Caitlyn’s going to want to get out to the barn to see her pony, anyway.”
Gina grinned. “I don’t suppose that pony is a bribe from her grandfather to keep her coming up here.”
“Of course it is,” Mrs. Clayton said unrepentantly. “Now that Emma’s divorced, her father and I would give anything to have the two of them here all the time. I know Emma is very successful in Denver, but she hasn’t been truly happy there for a long time. She just refuses to admit it. And Caitlyn loves it here.”
“No doubt about that,” Gina agreed. “And I think a certain newspaper editor might be pleased to have them nearby, too.”
The suggestion brought a wistful expression to Mrs. Clayton’s fac
e. “Ford seems to be a fine young man. Emma could do worse. Of course, every time they’re together for five minutes, they seem to end up in an argument.”
“I’ve noticed,” Gina said with amusement. “Don’t you think all of that explosive chemistry is a good thing?”
“I don’t know,” Mrs. Clayton said skeptically. “I haven’t seen any evidence that they have a meeting of the minds about anything at all. If Ford said the grass was green, I think Emma would contradict him and point out every single brown patch in the lawn. I listen to the two of them and shake my head. Whatever happened to that agreeable girl we raised?”
“She grew up and became an outstanding lawyer with a passion for defending the little guy. Arguing is second nature to her. If she’d been on the debate team in high school, they would have been national champions, but back then she hated confrontation.”
“Well, that’s certainly changed, hasn’t it?” Mrs. Clayton said. “And I’m proud of all she’s accomplished, I really am. I just wish she’d give poor Ford a break every once in a while.”
Gina patted Mrs. Clayton’s hand. “She will. I predict that watching them will give Winding River more entertainment than any other courtship to come along in years.”
“I don’t know about that,” Emma’s mother said, grinning at her. “They’ll have to work for that honor. I’ve heard some absolutely fascinating things about you and that young man who followed you here from back East.”
Gina blushed, even as she insisted that she and Rafe were just friends.
“Maybe so, but if Emma and Ford were half as friendly, I’d be a happy woman,” Mrs. Clayton said, then glanced at the driveway. “There’s my wayward daughter now.”
Practically before Emma pulled to a stop in front of the house, Caitlyn tumbled out of the car. “Grandma, Grandma, how’s my pony? I gotta see him right now. I missed him soooo much. Do you think he missed me?”
Mrs. Clayton winked at Gina, then reached for Caitlyn’s hand. “Of course I do. Let’s go to the barn. I think your grandpa’s down there with him right now. He probably already has the saddle on, so you can go for a ride.”
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