by Francis Ray
“Dinner and conversation. I’ll follow you to wherever you want. You can leave when you get ready,” he offered.
“This won’t lead to anything.”
“I’d like for us to be friends. Can we start there?” he asked earnestly.
A sensible request. She’d tried to lump Roman with A. J. because for the first time in years, her body had reacted to a man’s. That had been wrong of her. She went to Billy’s truck. “You won’t have to follow me home, and if you mention this, I’ll stop bringing food for the crew.”
He pulled his two fingers across his lips. He started the truck then backed up and stopped briefly by Roman, before continuing on.
“What did he say?” she asked Roman.
“If I wanted to keep a certain part of my anatomy, I better act like a gentleman.”
Her crew was almost as protective of her as Dillon. “You still want to go out?”
“More than ever. You lead, I’ll follow.”
“You get one chance. Blow it, and there won’t be another.”
“I figured as much.” He held out the offering once again. “My arms are getting tired.”
She reached for them, and he pushed them toward her. The backs of his fingers brushed against her breast. She stepped back, but the damage was done. Her nipples hardened. Need pulsed through her.
“That wasn’t intentional,” he quickly said. “Why don’t I follow you to your car and put them in the passenger’s seat.”
Marlene nodded and started for her car on trembling legs. She’d been right to avoid Roman. If she’d spoken, he would have known how much the simple touch had fired her blood. She could never allow him to know how much he got to her.
Tonight would be their first and only time to go out together. She would be a fool to go out with him again. Once was enough to last a lifetime.
* * *
Thirty miles outside of Elms Fork on Interstate 45, Dillon could breathe without desire clawing at him. He’d even slowed to the speed limit. Sitting beside him, Sam hadn’t said one word when the speedometer reached ninety. She’d simply looked at him, then the gauge.
The gesture had been so like his mother’s that he’d automatically eased off the gas pedal. Guess Sam, like his mother, knew that he didn’t take orders well. It would be laughable that she understood him so well, and he’d reacted to the silent reprimand as if he didn’t want her more than his next ragged breath.
“I have to agree that this car looks better than mine.”
“We’re even, because you look better than I do.”
She tossed him a quick look of pleasure. “Thank you. Any idea how we play this tonight?”
“Straightforward.” Dillon shifted gears and took the ramp to I-35 to downtown Dallas. “The development of the new intercooler system should keep him interested enough to want to take a look once it’s designed.”
“I’ll let you do the talking and I’ll entertain his wife,” she said, staring straight ahead.
He thought he heard a bit of condescension in her voice. “You’re on the consultant team. Speak up if you find an opportunity.”
She turned toward him. “Really?”
She seemed so pleased that he wasn’t about to tell her he hoped she’d leave it to him. “Like I said, you’re on the team and you have made a lot of notes.”
“Are you teasing me?” she asked, smiling.
“Wouldn’t dare.”
“Yes, you would, but that’s all right because we’re partners. Like Marlene said, Granddad had faith in us.”
Dillon glanced at Sam’s shapely legs, then took the Oak Lawn exit, no longer unsure how he felt about Abe’s decision.
* * *
Marlene drove to Chili’s on the outskirts of town. It was the only national casual chain restaurant in the city. It benefited from the interstate passing by and the town’s only two hotels across the street.
She parked between cars close to the entrance, got out and walked to the double glass doors. She planned to say good-bye there as well, so he wouldn’t need to walk her to her car. This would be quick: in and out.
Roman stepped into the light spilling from the high beams of the parking lot and the twin black brass lanterns. Marlene felt the impact of his eyes. Despite herself, she appreciated the easy movement of the muscled body, the ground-eating gait. In a tan shirt and slacks, he exuded confidence and masculinity.
“Sorry to keep you waiting. I had to find a parking spot.” He took her arm.
Her skin heated. Tingled. Perhaps she should have kept saying no. With his free hand, he opened the door and ushered her inside.
“Welcome to Chili’s,” the hostess greeted them, picking up two menus. “Table for two?”
“Yes,” Roman answered. “A booth if possible.”
“Certainly. This way.”
Roman followed with a silent Marlene to a two-seat booth. She quickly took her seat and put her purse on the outside. She wasn’t taking any chances.
“Your waiter will be here shortly,” the young woman said as she handed them their menus. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Marlene?” Roman asked.
Without lifting her head from the menu, she said, “Sweet iced tea.”
“The same,” Roman said, wondering how long Marlene planned to hide behind the menu.
“I’ll get those right out.”
As soon as she walked away, he braced his arms on the table. “Regrets already?”
After a moment, the menu lowered. Her beautiful black eyes were wary. “Yes.”
Roman would have gladly kicked the butt of the man who made her afraid to trust her emotions or another man. Despite the rumors that Abe was Dillon’s father, Roman didn’t believe it. Marlene obviously was fond of the man and held no animosity toward him, even though he’d fired Dillon. He wasn’t the man who had hurt her. Roman felt strongly that it was Dillon’s father.
“You’re staring.”
“I like looking at beautiful things.”
Up went the menu again.
He reached over and pulled it down. “I don’t lie. You can trust me.”
“Your drinks.” The woman placed the glasses on the wooden table. “I’m Cindy. You folks ready to order?”
“Marlene?”
“Spinach salad with house dressing.” She handed the waitress her menu.
“You, sir?”
Roman stared at Marlene. So she wanted to eat and run. Not happening. “We’ll have the triple dipper appetizer out first, then I’ll have the chicken-fried steak with a loaded baked potato, and brownie sundae with two scoops of ice cream for dessert.”
“Wow…” The woman chuckled, accepting the menu. “A man who knows what he wants.”
“I certainly do,” Roman said, staring at Marlene.
The waitress’s interested gaze bounced between the two, then she walked away smiling.
“Wanting isn’t always getting,” Marlene said.
“I know, but I’m hoping I can wear you down.” He picked up his tea. “I’ve been on my own for the past five years. When I take a job, I put my social life on hold until I finish. I don’t want my concentration splintered. This time I can’t do that.”
Marlene glanced down at the tea, picked it up, then put it down. “I don’t want this.”
“I can tell.” He took another sip of tea. “I’d ask you why, but I don’t think you’re ready to tell me yet.”
Lips that he wanted to press his own against tightened. “Always ready with the smart answers.”
“Hardly. I’ve made my share of mistakes, but the one thing that I’ve learned is to take each day and live it to the fullest.” He leaned back as the waitress placed the appetizer in front of them. He picked up a cheese stick. “That’s why when I finish a job I take at least three weeks off to take it easy, visit my two kids in D.C. where they’re working.”
Her body stiffened. “How long were you married?”
The question wasn’t asked idly. He
placed the cheese stick on the small white plate. He didn’t like talking about his marriage, but he realized Marlene was backing away from him as fast as she could. He had only one chance.
“Twenty-three years. I thought we were happy. I worked long hours. Old story, so I won’t bore you with the details. I learned she was having an affair.” He briefly tucked his head. “I filed for divorce and got custody of Amy, who was a senior in high school. Jonathan was a sophomore at Yale at the time.”
“That must have been hard on all of you.”
“You have no idea.”
“No, I wouldn’t.” She glanced away.
Roman shoved his hand over his head in frustration. “You’re wrong. You know what it is to want the best for your child. To make the hard decisions to give it to them. Dillon is the man he is because of you. Being a single parent has to be one of the toughest jobs in the universe. But mine were old enough to take care of themselves, and I had money. Don’t ever sell yourself short.”
“Your food.” The waitress moved the appetizer over. “Not to your liking?”
“I guess not.” He was batting his head against a wall. “You can take them away.”
* * *
He was trying. There had been no divorce for her, only the disgrace that she was pregnant by a married man.
What would Roman think of her if he knew she had been the other woman? She still felt the shame.
“No.” Marlene reached for a chip. She had no right to be so self-righteous. “Although the salad looks delicious, I don’t think it’s going to fill me up.”
Roman smiled at her. Her heart jerked. Once. Hard. “Can’t have that. This is cold. How about we share my food until the waitress can bring out another appetizer?”
She smiled back. She could handle this. “I’d like that.”
* * *
At six fifty, Dillon pulled up behind a Lamborghini at the Mansion on Turtle Creek. He’d barely stopped before a valet reached for his door and opened it.
“Welcome to the Mansion.”
“Thanks.” Dillon stood and rounded the car to take Sam’s arm. He hoped his body was up to the test.
Now wasn’t the time to remember he hadn’t been with a woman in months or how much he’d like to take Sam upstairs to one of the luxury rooms, strip them both, and just enjoy.
“It’s as beautiful as I’d imagined.” Sam glanced around the courtyard with the hotel on one side and the five-star restaurant on the other. Tiny lights twinkled in the trees.
She was just as beautiful, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. He wasn’t a man to sway a woman with pretty words. He preferred the more earthy approach. He cupped Sam’s elbow, felt the soft skin, and smelled her fragrance. It was going to be a long night.
“Mr. Montgomery.”
About to pass a small group of people, he paused as he recognized Frank Thomas from his picture on the company’s Web site. That would teach him to keep his mind on business. Dillon extended his hand. “I’m sorry, Mr. Thomas. I didn’t see you.”
Frank Thomas, dressed in a tailored blue suit, laughed jovially and returned the strong handshake. “You weren’t expecting a crowd. Don’t worry.” He smiled at a group of teenage boys standing to the side of them, their mouths gaping, their eyes huge.
“They’re not staying. I was in the kitchen when I told my wife about our dinner engagement.” Thomas chuckled and shook his head again. “I thought my son would go insane with glee. He went with me to a vintage race once and was instantly taken with the cars. He’s gotten his friends hooked on vintage cars as well. Of course, they’ve heard of you and wanted to meet you.”
Dillon nodded at the eager teenagers staring at the Ferrari and the other luxury cars in the courtyard. “Since they’re watching cars, I’d like you to meet Sam—Samantha Collins, Abe’s granddaughter and fellow consultant with Collins Industry.”
Frank extended his hand and pulled a thin woman in a knee-length navy-blue dress forward. “My wife, Cynthia.”
“Hello. I’ll thank you now for suggesting dining here,” Cynthia said. “I’d dine here every week if I could.”
Dillon nodded toward Sam. “Thank Sam.”
“I thought we could enjoy ourselves in beauty and luxury while the men talked shop,” Sam said.
“You couldn’t have picked a better spot.” Cynthia looked fondly at her husband. “Talking shop, he sometimes forgets I’m there.”
“I doubt that,” Dillon said sincerely, then smoothly turned to the five teenagers. “Hi, fellows. Got the bug, have you?”
“That’s a 1948 166 MM Barchetta, the definitive 1950s sports car, isn’t it?” said the tallest of the teenagers, the one in front.
“You know your cars.” Dillon chuckled. “I might not be on the circuit, but I still like driving vintage. Speed is best on the racetrack and not on the highway. I know you fellows all agree.”
“Yes, sir,” they agreed.
Since Dillon had been a teenage boy with a car and a motorcycle, he didn’t believe them for a second. “If there was a race, I’d invite you as my guests, but how would you like to come out to my high-performance garage tomorrow in Frisco? I’m restoring a 1982 BMW and a 1983 Lotus. There’s enough room in back for each of you to take a short spin.”
They whooped with glee. “Yeah!”
Dillon pulled out his wallet and handed a card to the boy in front. “I’ll be there after one.”
“Thanks,” they chorused.
“All right, Douglas, you and your friends have met Mr. Montgomery. Now, we need to go inside for our dinner reservations,” Mrs. Thomas said.
Douglas waved the card. “Man. Thanks again. See you tomorrow.”
Mr. Thomas clapped Dillon on the back. “I think my son and his friends have a serious case of hero worship on you.”
“But you’re the one he’ll see each day, the one he’s learning how to be a man from,” Dillon said.
Thomas nodded slowly. “Abe selected well. You have your feet planted firmly on the ground.”
“Dillon also has a lot of innovative ideas that will offer a lot to Tasco,” Sam said. “With the inner cooling system he’s perfecting, we plan to shake things up.”
“I believe you will,” Mr. Thomas said.
Dillon took Sam’s arm. “Let’s go in to dinner and we can talk further.”
* * *
As always, Marlene didn’t get out of her car until she had her front-door key in her hand. She heard Roman’s quiet steps behind her, and her nervousness grew as she hurried up the walk. She shouldn’t have let him follow her home, but he’d mentioned it as soon as they’d exited the restaurant, then hurried to his car. She was left staring after him.
On the porch she kept her back to him until she had the front door open, had reached inside to turn on the light on the porch and in the entry. She turned for a quick good-bye, her hand already outstretched, and found herself pressed against a wall of muscled warmth.
His mouth didn’t ask. He took, pleasured, overwhelming her senses. Her body responded before she could take a breath, molding itself against him, her hand in his thick hair. The hot kiss made a mockery of her attempt to deny her attraction to this man.
Roman lifted his head, his breath uneven against her lips. She wanted his mouth, his knowing hands on her again. She shook her head, pushing against his chest. She’d overestimated her control where he was concerned.
“I want you, but I know it’s too soon.”
She shook her head. “No,” she managed, her voice sounding thready with need.
“Yes. I can drive down tomorrow and we can do whatever you like.”
Make love in the sunshine.
She barely kept from groaning. She hadn’t thought of being intimate with a man in years. She pushed against his chest. This time he let her go. She missed the heat, the solid warmth, immediately. “This has to stop. I can’t go out with you again.”
He took her arms in his, dragging her against him again. “I’m not h
im. I won’t hurt you.”
Anger replaced desire. “You don’t know anything about me. Now let me go.”
His fingers tightened for a second, then she was free. “It’s not over between us.”
“There is no ‘us.’ I don’t want this.”
“You can lie to me, but your body can’t. This isn’t over.” Reaching past her, he pushed the front door open farther. “Go inside before I show you.”
Her body trembling, Marlene went inside, closing and locking the door after her. His words rang in her ears. This isn’t over.
Heaven help her. He was right. What was she going to do?
Nine
Dinner had turned out better than Dillon expected. Sam had been wonderful. Not only had she kept the conversation going, she’d made sure Thomas’s wife didn’t feel left out. She was definitely an asset.
He’d have to agree with his mother. Abe had been smart to turn the company over to her.
Dillon would be equally smart to think of her only as his business partner. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t used to self-denial. Neither said anything as he walked her to her front door. Silently he took her key, unlocked the door, then handed it back to her. He wanted both hands free.
“Thank you. I thought it went well tonight.”
“It’s about to get better.” Reaching out, he slowly pulled her into his arms. Her sharp intake of breath made his body harden. His head lowered. He brushed his lips across hers, swallowed her sweet breath as it rushed in and out.
He wanted to savor, but he couldn’t wait. His mouth molded itself against her, his tongue thrusting inside her mouth to taste and pleasure. She was sweet. And addictive. The more he tasted, the more he wanted to taste.
It stunned him how much he wanted her. But the need had been building since he’d first seen her that night. Or had it started all those years ago?
His hand cupped her hips, bringing her against his rock-hard arousal. She whimpered. He wanted to as well because there was no way they were going to finish this.
Breathing as if he’d run for hours, Dillon crushed her against him and tried to control the need pulsing through him. “I have an appointment at eight in Dallas or I’d be knocking on your door to take you out.”