by Lori Foster
But Shadow Callahan, with all her compliments and open appreciation, didn't know he had money. So why had she been so intent on controlling the situation? He'd recognized that intention immediately, because it was usually his objective, as well. And for a minute or two there he'd actually allowed her the upper hand, merely out of surprise.
Micky brought in the requested folder and Brent got down to business. He'd be seeing her again in just a few short hours, and he wanted to be prepared this time. Shadow—what a name—didn't yet know that he held her lease, and that was just fine by him. He'd take all the advantages he could get. But before he had any more verbal skirmishes with her, he'd find out all he could about her, and there was no way he'd let her take him by surprise again.
* * *
Shadow didn't give Brent a single thought that morning. She was far too busy with holiday shoppers who used her novel stock of items to take care of those hard-to-buy-for people on their lists. She enjoyed it—the rush, the interaction with customers, the excitement over a particular item that someone decided was "just perfect!" She didn't have time to waste thinking of Brent.
Yesterday evening, though, she'd thought of him plenty. He was interesting. More so than the men she'd met of late, who mostly bored her with their attentions. She wasn't certain what exactly appealed to her about Brent, but she'd figure it out. When she had the time.
He came in at quarter to twelve, his lean cheeks ruddy from the cold. Shadow sent him a quick smile, then turned back to the young women who were trying to decide between two different board games.
"This one's a little more expensive and it takes longer to play. But the concessions each player has to give were designed and written up by a well-known psychologist, and—" she bobbed her eyebrows "—guaranteed effective."
The women giggled, suitably impressed. Shadow went on, motioning to the other game. "This one's more good-natured fun. You make up your own concessions or rewards as you go along, depending on your partner." The choice was made and Shadow rang up the sale, wishing the women luck and reminding them to enjoy themselves.
Brent approached her, taking in her outfit with careful consideration. Shadow grinned at him. "Do you like it?"
She'd dressed like a snow bunny. Her thick cotton top fell to the middle of her thighs and she wore leggings tucked into soft leather boots. As she turned for him, holding her arms out to the side, Brent read the words written across her back: Face It—Forty Never Looked This GOOD.
He shook his head. "Very nice. But you're not forty."
"How would you know?" She was thirty-one, but she hadn't told him that. She smiled. "My driver's license is safely tucked away in my bag. Have you been peeking?"
All he said was, "I know you're not forty."
"Do you think I look good for forty?"
"Too good," he said meaningfully. "I thought women always claimed to be younger, not older."
"Now why would I do that? If I said I was twenty, people would think I looked terrible for such a young age. But for forty, I ain't so bad."
"Lady, I think you look damn fine regardless of your age."
He said it so sincerely her heart gave a quick thump of excitement. She hid that reaction well. "Let me get my coat, drag my assistant up from the back and then we can go."
When Shadow returned from the back room, she was followed by a woman whose arms were ladened with printed bedsheets. As Shadow shrugged into her coat, she made introductions. "This is Kallie, my indispensable right hand and a very nice, if somewhat shy, lady. Kallie, this is Brent Bramwell. We'll be down at the coffee shop if you need me."
Kallie smiled. "Take your time. I can handle things."
"Of course you can. I never doubted it for a minute. When you finish stacking those, hang one up so everyone can see the print, okay? Maybe even near the window, where passersby will catch a glimpse of it."
Brent took her arm and led her out the door. "What do the sheets have printed on them that you want everyone to see?"
Even with their heavy coats and the frigid wind, Shadow could feel the warmth of Brent beside her. She dodged an icy patch and stepped closer still. "The, ah, proper placement of body parts."
Brent missed a beat, then laughed. "You're kidding."
"Nope." She crossed her heart. "It's kind of a visual instruction manual. I expect them to be big sellers."
"Have you bought any for yourself yet?"
The coffee shop was only two doors down, so they had already reached it before Brent asked his question. Shadow went in, breathing deeply of the wonderful aroma of fresh baked bread, pastries and flavored coffees. "I love it in here," she said, in lieu of giving him an answer. "There's nothing quite like the smell of yeast and warm bread to make you feel comforted."
"Oh, I don't know. I can think of a few scents I prefer."
Shadow slipped off her coat, took a seat at a small table, then waited until Brent had removed his own coat and taken the seat across from her. Propping her cheek against her fist on the table, she studied him. "I've annoyed you. That's why you're being so outrageous."
Brent cocked one eyebrow upward. "Outrageous? I thought I was making idle conversation."
Shadow watched him a moment longer, then sighed. "Okay. No, and I suppose that's true for many men, and probably many women as well."
"I beg your pardon?"
She laughed at his confusion. "I was answering your questions, since you claim they weren't outrageous. No, I don't own a set of the sheets, and I agree many men might name scents other than baking bread as appealing. But that's also true for women."
"But not you?"
She wagged her finger at him. "Me, I like baked bread. Very safe, you know. Ah, here's Eliza."
Shadow went through more introductions. Eliza, one of her friends, looked Brent over with a calculating eye.
"I'll have a salad," Shadow said, interrupting the intent scrutiny, "and a tuna sandwich on rye, with an apple tart for dessert."
Brent glanced at the menu briefly, then ordered the same.
"Do you want to try today's special coffee blend?"
Before Brent could answer, Shadow said, "Sure. Bring us a pot."
As Eliza walked away, Brent frowned. "What exactly is the day's special blend?"
"I have no idea. But her coffee is always wonderful. And I like to be adventurous." She stared at her water glass and added, "Don't you?"
Brent leaned back in his chair. His eyes glittered with intent, giving her just a shade of warning.
"I'll be busy most of this week getting settled in," he told her, "but if you're really so adventurous, why don't you agree to have dinner with me on Friday?"
It was only Monday. Shadow felt a little crestfallen that he didn't want to see her again until the end of the week. "I don't know. I'm not at all sure you're trustworthy. Gorgeous, but also a quick talker. I get the feeling you can be dangerous, and I'm usually pretty good at reading people. I didn't used to be…" She shrugged. "But I am now."
"You sound cautious, not adventurous."
"There's a difference between being adventurous and being just plain stupid." Leaning forward in her chair, she stared at him and said, "I am never stupid."
She saw his mouth quirk the tiniest bit at her indignation, but his reply was mild enough. "You don't need to convince me. I've been going over your brochure. It's obvious you're an intelligent woman with a head for business."
He sounded as though he meant that, but Shadow wasn't sure. She didn't want to be drawn in too quickly. It was enough that she found him so attractive, so charming. To be complimentary and observant, too, would almost make him a saint, and she wasn't fool enough to believe that.
Eliza brought their food, and they both were quiet until she'd finished serving them. Their eyes met several times, but it wasn't until after Shadow filled her mouth with a large bite of salad that Brent asked, "So. If you don't want to go to dinner, what would you like to do? I'm settling into a new house this week, but I'm sure I co
uld organize well enough to have you over if you just want to skip the preliminaries."
Shadow chewed thoughtfully, not hurrying, aware that Brent baited her for some reason, that he felt justified in being so scandalously blunt.
Dressed in a dark gray business suit with a finely striped shirt and silk tie, he was the epitome of male elegance. A very expensive diamond watch peeked out from under the cuff of his shirt, and his hands were large, with light brown hair sprinkled over his knuckles. Shadow picked up her napkin and dabbed at her mouth. She'd given herself plenty of time to think.
"What do you do for a living, Brent?"
His eyes narrowed slightly. "I'm in real estate. Now why don't you answer my question?"
She twirled the spoon in her rich, dark coffee. "You're wealthy?"
Brent sighed, leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Your train of thought is a little hard to follow. Or do you need to know how much money I make before you'll tell me exactly what you want from me?"
Shadow felt bone-deep regret, she really did. He had seemed so different from other men. She stood, opened her purse and dug out a few bills to cover the cost of her meal. She could feel Brent's silent attention, but it wasn't until she'd slipped on her coat that she said to him, "I don't want anything from you. Unless, that is, you want to fill out a contest entry form. I still need three more men for that." She pulled her purse strap over her shoulder and smiled down at him. "Thanks for sharing lunch with me. It's been … educational."
Disbelief crossed his features. She turned and headed for the door without a backward glance. A stunned silence hung behind her for only an instant, then she heard the sounds of Brent scrambling to his feet. She had almost made it to the entrance of her shop when he caught up with her.
His large hand encircled her upper arm, pulling her to a halt and turning her to face him. "Wait a minute."
"Have you decided to enter the contest?" She kept her smile polite.
"Forget the damn contest. I thought we were going to have lunch."
Her smile almost slipped. "That was before you made it so clear why you had asked me in the first place. If I'd known what you wanted up front, I would never have agreed to go."
The wind whipped Shadow's hair into her face and made her shiver. She lowered her head against the sting of the cold.
With a sound of disgust, Brent said, "Come on. It's too damn cold to talk out here."
The shop was warm and only mildly busy. Kallie looked up as they entered, then called to Shadow, "You have a delivery in the back."
"Thanks." She turned to Brent. "I don't think there's anything for us to say. It's a pity, really, because you seemed so amusing. But I'm not interested in a one night stand." Her smile now hurt, but she kept it firmly in place, refusing to give him even an ounce of satisfaction. "Thanks anyway."
Brent rolled his eyes. "Oh, no you don't. Not this time. You may not have anything to say, but I do."
Two people looked up, their attention drawn by Brent's harassed tone. With resignation Shadow said, "Come on, we can talk in my office. But only for a minute." She frowned at him over her shoulder. "I have work to do."
Brent was irritated. If his stomping footsteps didn't get that across, his frown was very expressive. Shadow opened the door to the small office and flipped on a light switch as she entered. A large bouquet of yellow roses sat in the middle of her desk. She stopped in midstride, momentarily nonplussed.
Brent nearly plowed into her. "What…?"
Shadow marveled aloud, "Someone sent me flowers!" Picking up the card, she read quickly, then looked at Brent suspiciously. "Did you do this?"
He glanced at the card in her hands. "What would make you think that? Who signed the card?"
"No one. It says they're from a secret admirer."
"Well, since I'm here, and I've made my intentions well known, there's not much of a secret to it, is there?" He sounded more annoyed by the second.
"But then who? The only men I know are friends."
"I told you—"
"Yeah, I know. Men have ulterior motives." She made a face at him. "I should have remembered that when I agreed to have lunch with you."
Brent all but growled. "Why did you think I wanted to get to know you? So we could be pals?" His voice dropped and he took a step closer. "You're a beautiful woman, Shadow. Maybe a little nutty, but I can handle that. And you're the one who started telling me how attractive you thought I was."
"Well, you are." She refused to back up from him, and instead faced him squarely. "A woman would have to be blind not to notice that. But that doesn't automatically mean I want to jump into bed with you. I do have some scruples and discretion, you know."
He seemed to consider her words, then explained gently, "You come across as something of a tease, Shadow." He caught her shoulder, holding her still. "No, don't get mad. If I've read you wrong, I'm sorry. But you can't blame me entirely for getting my signals crossed. It's not often I run across a woman who's as open and outspoken in her conversation."
Shadow stepped away from him, breaking contact. "I've been told before that I should censor my thoughts before I voice them. I try, but sometimes it's just too annoying, having to pick myself apart before I can say what I think."
His severe expression softened. "So you're attracted to me?"
"Yes, of course."
That got her a smile. "And you wouldn't mind getting to know me better?"
"I'd like to. But not if you're only biding your time until you can score."
"Oh, I think being with you would be interesting," he said with a crooked smile, "no matter what the outcome."
There was that disarming sincerity again. "Thank you."
"You're very welcome." He looked relieved, and determined. "So how about we try lunch again? Say, Wednesday?"
She knew she should refuse, but instead she asked, "Will you enter the contest? I still need you."
It was his expression that made her realize how her words had sounded. She needed him. He looked at her mouth as he asked, "How about if I let you know on Wednesday?"
It was like being kissed, the way he looked at her. Her heart pumped hard; her lungs constricted. There was no way she could refuse.
Shadow stuck out her hand. "It's a deal." His palm was hot, his grip strong, and he carefully tugged her forward. Shadow froze as he bent down, but she didn't pull away. His lips were warm, firm, brushing over her cheek in the lightest of touches. She was as stunned by her reaction to that simple kiss as she was by his audacity.
Unwilling to give him the upper hand, even for a moment, she said, "That was nice." She drew a deep breath to steady her voice. "Maybe on Wednesday you can improve upon it just a bit."
Brent laughed. "I'll see what I can do. In the meantime…" He opened his coat to reach inside his pocket. Extracting a business card, he handed it to her, instructing, "If you change your mind about dinner, give me a call at the office. I'm usually there late."
He whistled as he left, and Shadow wondered if she'd eventually figure him out. One thing was certain, getting to know him would be fun, and wasn't that her business? Fun? It had been awhile—a long while—since she'd reacted to a man like this. But she had a feeling it had been just as long since Brent had enjoyed any real fun. She had a feeling they were both in for some surprises.
* * *
Chapter 2
« ^ »
The bitter cold was refreshing. Originally from California, Shadow didn't think she would ever be bored with Ohio weather. It changed with each month, and she relished waking every day to something other than continual sunshine. Not that it was cloudy today. She had to squint to tolerate the almost magical reflection of sunlight off snow and ice.
The wind whistled down the little sidewalk in front of her shop, whipping the scarf around her neck and nearly dislodging the colorful red bow in her hair. She supposed a dress hadn't been the best thing to wear while hanging Christmas lights, but she rarely planned her days completely
. Usually, she just did what she felt like doing, when she felt like doing it.
Today she felt like being outdoors, decorating. And she felt like seeing Brent Bramwell.
She'd thought of him often the past few days. She knew she had him confused, but he didn't seem to mind overly. He had made that crack about her being a little nutty, but she was used to that. Everyone thought her nutty. She liked to think it was part of her charm.
Even throughout her school years she'd been different, always occupied with gaining independence and maturity so she wouldn't have to conform to anyone else's rules. Other girls had been interested in clothes and boys and music. She'd wanted only to garner enough knowledge to understand why people couldn't be more accepting, more open to change. Unfortunately, the more she learned the more she understood just how different she was, and how rigid society could be when faced with the different and unique. She'd also learned to accept what she didn't care to change.
The wind gave a particularly vicious swipe at her skirt, blowing it up and over the hem of her coat. Shadow squealed, frantically trying to push it back down and nearly toppling from her stepladder in the process. It was sheer bad luck, or maybe good, depending on your point of view, that Brent happened along just then.
* * *
Brent couldn't believe his eyes when he saw Shadow balanced precariously atop a rickety stepladder on the slick walkway, her skirt billowing upward to give him an unhindered view of her nicely rounded backside in a pair of red tights. Her arms were stretched high over her head as she struggled to attach twinkle lights to the framing. When he saw her begin to flounder, tangling herself in the lights, he bolted forward.
However, the icy pavement wasn't accommodating to heroism, and he reached Shadow just in time to lose his footing, thereby knocking her from her perch. They both went down, Brent on the bottom, Shadow landing in a sitting position on his stomach.
Stunned, she twisted around to stare at him. His eyes were closed, but they opened immediately to peer up at her.