She’d never looked more beautiful.
Dani was the only woman he’d ever known who, while she was beautiful and always dressed nicely, had absolutely no vanity. She hadn’t changed much from when they were ten, both of them running wild on her mother’s estate and having the time of their lives.
When exactly had their relationship changed? They’d gone from being best buddies to arch enemies when they’d hit puberty, and he’d never figured out why.
His attention was drawn back to his phone call when his friend’s voice buzzing in his ear had finally ceased. “A client just walked in, so I have to let you go. Sorry I had to bail on you tonight.” He hung up and leaned back in his chair, waiting for Dani to finish her perusal.
She turned and assaulted him with a sexy smirk. “Breaking dates and hearts along the way, Mr. Most Eligible Bachelor in Town?”
Had everyone read that ridiculous article? He could’ve told her the truth; instead he shrugged. “Keeps me busy. But that’s not nearly as interesting as the story must be about you scaling the mayor’s wall while being chased by guard dogs.”
She rolled her eyes and, ignoring him, gestured toward a picture on the wall. “You’ve got two of Zoe’s paintings. I’m shocked. I thought your tastes were much too conservative for her style. I’d have thought a tedious country scene with hunting dogs would be more up your boring legal alley.”
“You should be glad I’m not staring at guns all day. It’s hard enough to resist using one on my most annoying client.”
Her cocky smile disappeared.
He’d hit a nerve, so now he was duty bound to go for the kill. “Zoe’s work has become more refined and mature with time. Maybe some of that will rub off on her best buddy, too, one day.”
Her right brow shot up. “Good one, Michael. I’m impressed. I’ll bet you’ve been saving that one up for weeks.”
He smirked but hated to admit that it still stung a little that Zoe had taken his place as Dani’s best friend when she’d dumped him, and they’d remained so. He’d always liked Zoe despite that, so he asked, “How is she?” and motioned his hand toward one of his guest chairs.
Dani winced as she slowly lowered herself onto the burgundy leather chair in front of his desk, sending a stab of guilt to his gut for his earlier joke about the gun. He’d have to take it a little easier on her—at least until she recovered from her parking lot attack.
When she was settled, Dani lifted her chin, her icy demeanor firmly back in place. “Zoe has a great husband, three kids, and is painting her heart out. She’s absolutely content with her life. I’ve never known anyone else who could say that.” The coolness fled from Dani’s eyes, and the corners of her perfect cupid-bow upper lip tilted. “Remember how everyone couldn’t believe she wasn’t going to college after we graduated? All the teachers and counselors worried about her. They thought she’d end up a big hippie like her goofy parents.”
“Yeah.” He smiled at the memory. “She always knew what she wanted. She once said to me, after a few beers, ‘Why do I need a college degree? I’m going to be a famous painter. Just ask Dani.’ Was that, like, an inside joke or something?”
“Yeah, sort of.” Dani shifted in her chair. “What do I need to sign?”
He pushed a stack of papers toward her. “First, Ron reprinted your divorce papers. You can sign them now, but I think I’d wait until you get Jake to sign. That way the signature dates won’t be a year apart or more.”
“You’re just a riot these days, Mikey.” She chuckled as she examined the stack before her. “Jake will sign them soon. He’s coming around.” She looked up and her smile faded. “It was more my fault than his that things didn’t work out.”
The misery in her eyes surprised him. He didn’t think his ex-wife would admit something like that, even though she and the other girl were caught in the act. “Well, it’s good you’re still friends. Heather and I are struggling with that for our girls’ sake.” He pushed the divorce papers aside and replaced them with another stack of papers. “So, if you’ll promise to give up wall climbing forever, sign these where indicated and give me a check for twenty-five hundred to cover the fine, your trespassing charge will miraculously disappear.” He handed her his pen.
Dani’s eyes widened. “Twenty-five hundred dollars?”
When he nodded, she said, “Um, okay. But I’ll need a few days to come up with that much.”
He knew her well enough to know he wasn’t seeing evasion in her expression this time but absolute embarrassment. He didn’t know why she wouldn’t just ask her mother for the money, but then he’d never understood the relationship between Dani and Annalisa. “It needs to be paid this afternoon, or the deal is off. That’s why I had to hunt you down at the courthouse. I can just bill your mother for it.”
“No! You don’t understand. I can’t take . . .” Panic found a home in Dani’s eyes as she trailed off. Her forehead crumpled, and it appeared she was about to go into some in-depth explanation he was sure he didn’t want to hear.
“I’ll pay this and then bill you later so we can file today. You can pay me back whenever you can, or we’ll just take it out of your commission.”
“Commission? What are you talking about?” Relief and confusion waltzed across her face as she quickly signed her name.
His conversation with Ron still gnawed at his gut. Surely Annalisa wasn’t interested in him like that, but he wasn’t taking any chances. “I need to buy a house. You’re a Realtor now, evidently, so I thought maybe you’d like to help me out?”
“I guess I could tolerate being around you for more than ten minutes if a big, fat commission check is involved. What kind of price range are we—”
“That is, if you’ll do me one favor.” It looked like Dani was going to flip her lid. Might be fun to watch.
Dani’s hopes for a huge commission check quickly faded as she frowned and crossed her arms. “I knew there’d be a catch.”
There was always a catch with him.
Michael said, “Your mother has asked me to have dinner with her tonight, at her home, and I was hoping you could join us.”
“Why?” A little alarm sounded in her head.
“No particular reason, other than it might make things more . . . comfortable.”
Comfortable? That didn’t make sense. Michael had known her mom since he was ten. He and Maeve had lived in the same guesthouse, which Dani currently occupied, for ten years. Something was definitely up. “Nope, not buying it. Spill it, Reilly.”
He raised his hands in resignation. “Ron mentioned that . . . well, your mother and he . . . and she didn’t poach but . . . now that I’m single, maybe she’d want more than that . . . like . . . sex?”
Yuck!
“Annalisa? And you? That’d just be . . . sick.”
He blew out a breath. “Especially since you and I . . . just the one night, but there’s a code of honor here. I’d never want you to feel like . . . so we agree, right? Ron’s definitely mistaken.”
Her stomach did a nasty flip at the thought of her mother with Michael. “God, I hope so.”
He leaned forward, his voice rising on a panicked plea: “There’s no way your mom would be interested in me like that? Would she?”
She was about to say no, before she realized her mother had, if you believed the tabloids, been with a few men recently who were about her and Michael’s age. And she had to reluctantly admit that Michael was tall, dark-haired, and extremely good-looking. Just her mother’s type.
Most every woman’s type.
“I already have plans for dinner, but maybe I’d better join you for dessert.” Or else Michael might end up being dessert.
“Yes. Please.” Nodding like a bobble-head doll, he added, “Why don’t you come over about eight thirty?”
“Okay. But if my mom’s really serious about you, she’ll just shoo me back to the guesthouse.”
Michael’s bobbing head stilled. He frowned and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Maybe we could say I need to go back to your place and look at MLS listings because you’re going to help me buy a house?”
That made sense, but they might need more. If her mom was thinking that way—and jeez, that’d be creepy—she’d just tell her they could do it later. No, she had no choice. She knew what they had to do. “If my mom thinks that you and I are, you know, interested in each other, she’d never . . . oh God, I can’t even think about that. So, anyway, I’ll come over about eight thirty and give you a little peck on the cheek, making you off-limits, and all should be well. Okay?”
Michael took her hand, stunning her when he gave it a friendly squeeze. “Thank you, Dani.” His touch sent that stupid zing racing up her arm again, landing like a warm arrow in her heart.
His large hand was still wrapped around hers as she studied his grateful expression. Most men would jump at the chance to sleep with Annalisa Botelli, not caring if they’d slept with her daughter first, but not Michael. He was truly one of the good guys, always choosing the high road.
Michael had hurt her more deeply than anyone ever had, and he didn’t even know it. She hardly could have told him she had to part ways with him because it had been too painful knowing he’d marry Heather and break her heart. Her damn dreams had ruined her relationship with the first boy she’d ever loved. And a few more after that.
She pushed away the bad memories and focused on the present. Even though she never let an opportunity pass to annoy Michael, she’d always respected him. So instead of sending him one of her typical acidic remarks, she tugged her hand out of his light grasp and gave him a genuine smile. “No problem. See you later.”
Strangely, the prospect of seeing him later didn’t fill her with the usual dread. That blow to her head earlier must’ve been harder than she’d thought.
Chapter Three
Michael pulled up in front of the massive front gates of Annalisa’s compound and lowered his car’s window. Dani’s kidnapping as a child had prompted Annalisa to move from LA back to New Mexico and outfit her home with more gadgets than Fort Knox. While a tinny voice asked the nature of his business, a little camera whirled quietly in his direction. The tiny lens focused on his face. “Michael Reilly to see Annalisa.” He knew the drill and held up his driver’s license next to his chin.
When the large iron gates slowly parted for him, he drove up the long tree-lined drive. Annalisa’s home resembled a massive English estate with its three-story stone walls and sweeping gardens. It was a stark contrast to the typical stuccoed mission-style homes of the Southwest.
Whenever he drove through the gates, warm memories always filled him of when he and his mother had lived in the guesthouse. And what fun times he and Dani had climbing trees and riding horses when they were kids.
The first time he’d seen the house, he’d judged the large, imposing structure as cold and intimidating, like a castle. He quickly learned that inside the solid masonry walls was a loud but warm and loving family.
Because Annalisa had never married, the quiet whispers told the tale that she had only ever truly loved one man—Dani’s father. The tabloids often speculated who Dani’s father was, ranging from plastic surgeons to men with ties to the mob. He and Dani had spent hours holed up in his bedroom in the guesthouse, playing detective. They were convinced they could figure out the mystery of her parentage, but never did, and eventually moved on to other pursuits. They used to spend so much time together they could practically read each other’s thoughts. It had made Dani’s sister jealous that he took so much of Dani’s time and attention away from her.
Dani’s younger sister, Sara, had something that Dani never had, though. A father. One who asked to be a part of her life. So, when Sara was whisked away by her dad for school breaks, Annalisa would slip her arm around Dani’s slumping shoulders, and then around Michael’s, and suggest they go on an adventure of their own. Often those jaunts included trips to Disney World, or sometimes they went to Europe, or Hawaii. Once, they’d even gone on an African picture safari. His passport overflowed with exotic stamps by the time he was sixteen, and he’d always been grateful to be included. To be made to feel a part of their family.
Dani had been the best friend he’d ever had. And eventually he’d developed romantic feelings for her but hadn’t been sure how to change their dynamic. Dani had taken care of that out of the blue one day by ending their relationship for no apparent reason. And then they’d slept together the one time a few years later, which had only added to his overall confusion about her.
But how could he think of Annalisa as anything other than the woman who’d treated him as if he were her own child?
Ron had to be wrong. Annalisa had been motherly and kind to him. Well, as motherly as one of People Magazine’s “Sexiest Women Alive” could be.
He parked his car in front of the arched wooden doors and hopped out. He wasn’t surprised when they opened before he could knock. Not looking forward to a potentially disastrous evening, he drew a steadying breath and followed the servant, clad in stern black, to the living room.
Annalisa held a wineglass, her expression pensive as she studied the fire in the massive stone hearth. Above it hung a larger-than-life-size portrait from when she was in her early twenties, at the peak of her beauty. Tonight, she wore something soft and silky that hugged her lush curves. He’d never seen her looking other than camera ready in all the years he’d known her.
She turned and, as if a switch had been thrown, beamed her infamous smile at him. The firelight bathed her in soft, complimentary tones. She’d truly earned her title as one of the most beautiful women on earth. Annalisa had the look of Sophia Loren and the body of a goddess, but, still, she was just Dani’s mom. A woman who could be vain and demanding but loved her daughters more than any of the Oscars or Emmys that gleamed brightly atop the mantel at her back.
“Well, good evening, Michael. You’re punctual, as always.”
“Hello, Annalisa.” He cleared the apprehension from his throat. “It’s nice to see you again.”
She crossed to the bar and poured him a glass of wine. “I know you value a fine wine as much as I do. I found this one at a small vineyard in Tuscany. I hope you’ll appreciate it as much as I appreciate you being here tonight.”
She handed him a glass and clinked her own against his, her eyes twinkling in the reflective firelight. As he stared back at her, his collar suddenly seemed two sizes too small. Surely, she wasn’t flirting with him—just offering him a simple glass of wine. He needed to get a grip.
In the time he’d nursed one glass, Annalisa had polished off two, making him more uncomfortable by the moment. He still wasn’t sure what he’d do if she made a pass at him. He’d keep his drinking to a minimum, though, to keep his wits about him.
By the time they sat for dinner, they’d discussed his mother, his daughters—now three and five years old—and then the conversation veered toward her latest movie. Mrs. Wilson, the chef, served all his favorite foods. She’d spoiled him rotten when he’d lived here, sneaking him cookies and regularly making his all-time favorite: chocolate molten cake. He’d have to go back to her private suite and thank her before leaving.
As he tried to enjoy the extravagant dinner, he did his best to keep up his end of the conversation. But he wasn’t doing very well. Annalisa’s tone, while friendly, was still just slightly flirtatious, and it caused ripples of anxiety in the pit of his stomach. Was he reading too much into her every word and glance? She had a reputation as a man-eater, and he hoped he wasn’t on the evening’s menu.
He wiped the sweat from his brow as dessert was served. Where the hell was Dani? She’d probably forgotten.
But even his anxiety couldn’t suppress the ecstasy he felt when he lifted a forkful of chocolate decadence to his lips. The dessert was incredible, but he needed to stay focused. It was crunch time; he was down in the fourth quarter and needed a big Hail Mary. Dani was supposed to be part of the special teams, but she hadn’t shown yet.
He was going to strangle her the next time he saw her. He grabbed his cell but then remembered she had phone issues.
“Michael,” Annalisa purred with her sexy, movie star voice, “what’s troubling you tonight?”
He looked up and met her gaze, forcing a bite of his dessert down his throat. “I’m sorry. Long day, I guess. Maybe I should just go?”
“Nonsense.” She laid her hand on top of his. For a moment her eyes fixed intently on his, and she seemed to look right into his soul before a small chuckle escaped her lips. “I just realized that you and I have never had dinner alone.” She gave his hand a light pat. “Let’s have coffee in the den, and I’ll tell you why I asked for you rather than Ron or Chad.”
Oh, shit. Here it comes. “I was curious about that. I don’t usually have much to do with your business dealings.”
“That’s true, but I wanted to talk to you about Dani. Ron and Chad don’t know her like you do, and I hoped you could help me with something.”
He blinked. So it wasn’t a seduction after all? A huge wave of relief rushed through him, dropping his body temperature by a good twenty degrees. “I’ll be happy to help you in any way I can, Annalisa,” he said, scraping the dish for the last forkful of chocolate gooey delight. It was damn good, especially now that he could actually enjoy it.
When they were settled on opposite couches, safely separated by a large coffee table, Annalisa drew a deep breath. “Dani won’t let me help her financially. She hasn’t taken so much as a pair of shoes from me unless it was her birthday or Christmas.” Annalisa stood and paced. Her Italian heritage showed in her dramatic hand waving. “It’s ridiculous. She won’t even go shopping with me anymore because she’s always broke. And she spends all her time running people around to look at houses, which they rarely buy. Since she’s getting divorced, she should be able to have her old life back. But she can’t do it on her own. Dani’s not like everyone else. She’s . . . special.”
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