by Craig, Susan
“Where are we going, Mom?”
“First things first, I need to talk to Diana. You can look at Mugs’ puppies—but remember they’re too little to hold. We’ll play it by ear from there.”
As Sally guided the van up the road to Diana and Logan’s farm, the remnants of her tension eased. The beauty of this place always had that effect on her. The “farm” had been fallow for years before Logan inherited it, and he had seen no reason to change that. Sally appreciated the scrub bushes and gangly trees that grew along old fence lines, and the wild second-growth meadows they enclosed. She liked the way the imprint of people on the land was gradually blurring and fading, yet not altogether gone.
Something about the vigor of nature’s reconstruction effort resonated in her spirit. Smiling, she turned her thoughts toward Diana. Their bond was strong. I’ll apologize for getting in a huff and I’ll listen to what she wants to say. That’ll set things right between us.
Sally parked the van in front of the house. Before the keys were back in her pocket, Tyler jumped out and headed across the deck to the front door. As he raised his hand to knock, Diana swung the door wide, welcoming them in. Well, welcoming Tyler anyway. The look she gave Sally was still very reserved.
“Diana, can we talk? Is Logan around? I was hoping Tyler could hang out with him for a little bit.”
Diana gave her head a small nod. “We can. Logan moved Mugs and the pups out to the sunroom this morning. He’s watching television, I think.” She turned and smiled at the boy. “Go on back, Tyler.”
Not needing a second invitation, Tyler raced from the room. Diana looked at Sally. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“Not really.” Sally moved into the room and sank into the worn leather couch. “I want to apologize for getting all bent out of shape earlier. I hate being on the outs with you, and I do want to know what you think, even if I don’t agree.”
Diana settled herself on the far end of the couch with her back against the arm, and her legs pulled up, woolen socks against the seat cushion. She folded her arms across her stomach. “All right, I’ll tell you. I’m worried by what I see you doing to Jim and to yourself. He loves you, and you know you care about him.”
“You’re right. I care about Jim.” Sally shifted uncomfortably. “But he’s talking about love. It’s what he deserves, and I can’t give it to him.
Something about the way Diana was watching her forced Sally to be honest with them both. “Look. If I could ever fall in love again, Jim would be…” A rush of warmth filled her heart and she sighed. Then, pressing her lips together, she closed her heart. “Jim is wonderful. But that’s not possible—ever. And it’s not fair to Jim, to let him be in love with me when I can’t reciprocate.”
Sally frowned for a moment. It would feel so good to accept what Jim offered, to let herself fall… but to risk that tearing, soul-destroying pain again… “No, I don’t want him to love me. I have enough love. There’s Tyler and my family. And my friends love me…don’t they?” She tilted her head down and lifted her gaze to Diana’s face.
Diana smiled. “Of course they do, even when they’re frustrated with you. So tell me how you see things standing now.”
Sally exhaled. “Right now, I think Jim will back off, because of Daniel and last night.” She winced at the memory. She’d had her hand on Daniel’s—what would Jim think she’d been doing? “I care about Jim, but if I can discourage him, I intend to. I can’t reciprocate…” A tingle ran through her body at the memory of Friday afternoon. “…not by being in love with him. And that’s what he wants.” She’d put love behind her, and there it must stay. “I have a date with Daniel tonight and I’m going to keep it.” She shot a hard glance toward Diana, but Diana’s expression stayed neutral. “I have two problems, though. First, I need to decide what to tell Jim.”
“You’re going to tell Jim? I thought you didn’t want to hurt him.”
“Well, he’s my self-appointed guardian lately, and I don’t want him showing up at the house tonight.”
Diana frowned. “You mean he has been staying with you? He said he would be, but I wasn’t sure you’d—
“Let him? He didn’t give me much choice. The man can be amazingly pushy.”
“You’re talking about Jim Donovan? The same Jim Donovan I know?”
Sally laughed at Diana’s exaggerated expression of surprise. “Yeah, I know—who’d have thought it? He’s been regressing lately—rapidly moving toward Neanderthal.” Sally gave a theatrical shudder. Then she hesitated, glancing toward Diana, but not quite meeting her eyes. “Second, I was hoping maybe Tyler could spend the rest of today and tonight with you and Logan.”
Sally saw the control Diana had developed while running her own company clamp down, preventing any change of expression. She waited uneasily for her friend’s answer.
“Sally, you already know how I feel about your plans for Daniel. I think you’re making a huge mistake. But I’m not in charge of your life. If you want us to watch Tyler, we will. We always enjoy having him around.”
Sally relaxed, pushing aside a sliver of discomfort at Diana’s willingness to cooperate. The last obstacle to her plan had been removed. “Thank you. Daniel will work out fine—you’ll see. Shall I run some clean clothes and pajamas by later?”
“You can if you want, but I’ve got a toothbrush and a pair of pajama pants from last time he stayed. I can toss his clothes in the wash if he gets too dirty.”
“Super. Thanks. Let me go tell him he’s staying.”
When Sally returned from the sunroom, smiling from her son’s enthusiastic thanks, Diana rose to walk her to the door. “Sally…” Diana paused until Sally looked into her eyes. “Be sure you’re not setting aside feelings you should be listening to. And be careful, okay?”
Sally gave her a quick hug. “Always. Thanks. I’ll be by sometime tomorrow to pick up Tyler—I’ll call you.” She climbed in her van, pointed it toward home, and punched Jim’s number on her speed dial. May as well get it over with.
Jim picked up after the second ring. “Hello.”
“Hi, Jim. It’s Sally. Look, Tyler and I have plans for tonight. I… uh, I wanted to let you know not to come over. We won’t be home.”
Jim’s voice sounded cold. “You won’t be home?”
“Right. So I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe, okay?
“Maybe.” She heard dead air. Jim had ended the call.
Sally ran the razor smoothly up her slick, soapy leg, stroke after stroke. Diana thinks I’m ‘setting aside feelings I should be listening to’—but she’s wrong. I’m not setting aside anything. I’m just being logical.
The lilac scent of the soap reminded her of Jim in her shower. She set the thought aside. The heat rippling under her skin was completely understandable. She’d been celibate for five years. It was natural to be hyper-arousable after so long a time without sex. It would probably take her a while to get back on an even keel again. None of it had anything to do with Jim.
Daniel made her feel the same way, didn’t he? She’d watched him all the way down the hall at the clinic. She’d enjoyed kissing him. I pretended he was Trent. No matter—she was looking forward to seeing him again, wasn’t she? That was what was causing her to simmer, not thoughts of Jim.
Legs silky smooth, Sally finished showering, dried and began applying moisturizer to her body. With long, leisurely strokes she soothed the lotion into her skin. The scent of lilacs filled the room, even stronger than before.
Jim did not smell of lilacs. Except for that once… her mouth watered, and she swallowed, forcing her thoughts onto a different track.
Daniel, now. Daniel smelled of antiseptic and spice. Daniel was on his way here, to take her to dinner.
Sally began to step naked into her bedroom, then stopped to put on her robe and belt it tightly. Damn that stalker for making her feel nervous in her own home—even in broad daylight.
She grabbed bra, thong, and a clean pair of dress jeans and headed
back into the bathroom to put them on. With the robe pulled on over jeans and bra, she stood at the door of her closet, deciding what else to wear.
Her boots, naturally. Saddle-brown, the color Diana called English tan, they had a three inch heel. Low enough to be comfortable for her six-foot frame, but tall enough to give her a clear height advantage over Daniel.
She grinned. If he wasn’t man enough to deal with that, she’d send him back to his playpen. After all, it was possible that a killer first impression was all he had going for him.
Wait. I’m forgetting the kiss. That had been one very smooth, confident move on his part. And he hadn’t been the least bit intimidated by what she’d said about mixing him up with Trent.
No, it looked like Daniel knew how to play the game. That was good. Sally nodded. She had no intention of making it easy for him. If you’re going to play, play to win.
Now, which top? Distraction—the snug red sweater with the low V-neck? Sophistication—the wrap-front blouse in green paisley silk? Maybe authority—the classic black cotton turtle neck with a jacket?
No. This one—the game-ender. She pulled it out and slipped the sophisticated silk and cashmere knit off the hanger. A gift from Diana, it was the exact green of her eyes. A distracting deep cowl neck topped the hip-length sweater and long, close-fitting sleeves. She slipped it on, added her boots and a brown suede collarless jacket—a little authority never hurt. Ready to go.
Walking into the kitchen, she checked the time—almost six. It was beginning to get dark. She suppressed a nervous shiver, and hoped Daniel would be here soon. Maybe she should make herself a cup of coffee—no, ridiculous idea. She was going out to dinner.
She walked through the house, checking that shades were down, and drapes closed. She resisted turning on all the lights, and settled for only the lamps in the living room. Calm down. Read a book or something. You can’t just stand around waiting to get out of here.
At last she heard a car pull up in her drive. She looked out at the Hummer parked there, then backed away from the door as Daniel Smith approached.
He brought flowers. Wow. Didn’t expect that. Her heart rate bumped up a bit—nerves. She gave her damp palms a quick wipe on her thighs and opened the door in response to his ring. “Hi, Daniel. Come on in.” She watched his eyes widen as his gaze flicked over her. And the home team is on the scoreboard with a long three-pointer.
But he took it in stride, and held out the flowers. “These are for you. Long-stemmed American Beauties.” He shrugged and grinned, tilting his head forward to give her a bad boy look from beneath his brows. “It seemed appropriate.”
The visitors make a quick recovery and pull ahead. “Thank you.”
She took the flowers into the kitchen. He followed and stood looking around as she dug out a vase and filled it with water for the fragrant pink-carmine roses. When she turned from the sink, vase in hand, he had moved to less than an arm’s length away, and was studying her intently. She waited, as his hand reached out and his fingertips ran up her cheekbone and along the curve of her jaw.
When he spoke his voice was deep and gravelly. “You make the flowers look plain.”
Momentarily unsure how to respond, she pulled back slightly, eyes focused on the vase in her hand, and skirted around him. Catching a thread of scent, she paused to lift the roses to her face and inhale their sweetness before placing them carefully on the table.
She heard Daniel step up behind her. His hands dropped onto her shoulders and the warmth of his breath caressed her neck as he leaned in, close to her ear. “You smell better than they do, too—sweet, but not too sweet.”
The effect of the move was diminished by her height advantage, but her stomach still scrambled at the implication. Coming on fast and strong. Is that the way it’s done, these days? She turned, gently swinging out of his grip, and smiled, strong and in control once more. We’ll play this game my way, thank you. “Where are we going tonight?”
To his credit, he didn’t push, though the smile he gave her seemed to imply the disengagement was only temporary. “Mexican or Italian. What’s your pleasure?”
“I haven’t had either in a long time. Let’s do this the old-fashioned way. Surprise me.”
The flicker of humor in his eyes, let her know he had picked up the message to slow down, but gave her no assurance that he would. He held her gaze with his own. “I can do that.” With a tilt of his head, he indicated she should precede him to the humvee.
The excitement of competition bubbled through Sally’s veins. Whew! It’s been a long time—I’m out of practice and he’s at the top of his game. Staying ahead of, maybe even keeping up with Daniel Smith was going to be a challenge. Sally grinned, feeling reckless. She’d never been one to back down from a contest. This was going to be fun.
Daniel pulled the H2 into the parking lot at Tia Maria’s. The popular restaurant was busy. Daniel gave his name to the hostess, accepted the pager she offered, and guided Sally toward the bar.
As she stepped into the crowded room, overheated air blanketed her face, and sent her hands to the buttons on her coat. Daniel reached out to help her remove it. She smiled gratefully and sat as he shrugged out of his own and asked her what she’d like to drink.
“I’ll have a Cuervo Gold margarita, on the rocks, with salt.” She smiled at him. “Theirs are the best in York.”
He nodded at the waitress. “Two.”
Sally studied the man sitting across from her. He still looked like Trent, only somehow not so much as before. With the worn leather jacket fastened high against the cold, his face had commanded attention: high cheekbones, rumpled hair, rich green eyes framed by thick lashes, and the shadow of a heavy beard. But now, with his jacket off, the rest of him was enough to make any woman’s mouth water.
A soft black wool sweater clung to pectorals that promised washboard abs. Its V-neck accentuated the clean lines of his neck and a sharply-defined ribbon of black, three-quarters of an inch wide, that curved toward his right ear and ended, slashed off at a sharp angle. Less than two inches of the tattoo showed.
Dragon, maybe? Sally had a fondness for dragons. But the thick line and crisp edges of the work resembled a Maori-style tribal tat. If she was right, bold scrollwork would wrap across his neck, shoulder and bicep. It would be interesting to slip the neck of the sweater aside to see.
Careful, Johnston.
She reached toward him anyway. Caution wasn’t in her game plan for tonight. Her fingers stroked the side of his neck in a slow caress and slipped the neck of the sweater a few more inches to the side. “Tribal?”
He hadn’t been at all startled by her touch and merely smiled, his eyes slightly narrowed as if her response to his tattoo was the norm. She took her hand away from his neck and moved her gaze away from his face, making a leisurely sweep of the room as if she cared who else was there.
A small eddy of disquiet drifted to consciousness. She didn’t think he’d gotten the tat for its effect on women, but she’d bet next month’s paycheck that he used the curiosity it generated to his own advantage. She didn’t like feeling that she’d been predictable. If things went according to plan, she’d see him without the sweater soon enough. But she didn’t want him to know that.
Better just maintain position for a while. Can’t afford a fumble. Daniel Smith is a player… and an expert. It didn’t change her plans. She’d already decided she wanted him in her bed, so they were working toward the same end. But that didn’t mean she intended to get played. She had to stay sharp.
And stop wondering about that design.
Their drinks arrived, strong, tangy and sweet. Thirsty, Sally took a healthy swallow that hit her empty stomach and gave her a fast buzz. Mistake. You can’t afford to relax around him. Not if you want to stay in control.
Wait a minute. Why was she so intent on staying in control? The essence of sex lay in a willingness to lose control. Was she ready to trust Daniel or not?
Before she could decide,
the pager Daniel had set on the table between them lit up and vibrated. Rising, they met the menu-carrying hostess and followed her to a table.
“So Daniel, where are you from, originally?” Sally crunched a tortilla chip carrying spicy salsa, as she waited for his answer.
“I grew up in Oceanside, California. Got my veterinary training at UC Davis.”
Alarm bells rang. Oceanside was just outside Camp Pendleton, where she and Trent had lived. Suddenly spending the night with Daniel seemed less like a good idea. But…Don’t be silly. He was still a kid when Trent and I were there…a college kid. Besides, the notes started six months ago. He wasn’t here then.
True.
Sally brought her attention back to Daniel.
“What about you, Sally?” He reached across the table and stroked her wrist. “Did you grow up around here?” Ceding the hand, she answered and then bounced the conversational ball back into his court.
“Tell me how you came to be interested in veterinary medicine.”
He answered, appearing absorbed in their conversation, but as he spoke, he turned her hand palm upwards and began tracing a spiral that arced from the base of her thumb slowly inward to the sensitive center of her palm.
Wow. It was immensely distracting. Sally schooled her features, wanting to appear unaffected as tingles flowing up her wrist to her arm, and deep inside her. Watching Daniel, she saw the corners of his mouth turn upwards. The effect of his move must have shown in her face.
Drat. Well, she may have slipped behind, but she wasn’t ready to give up yet. She shifted in her seat and slid her hand out from under his, curving her fingers to trace a trail along his palm and down to the tips of his fingers as she withdrew. She saw his eyes narrow slightly. Yes! An involuntary response. And the home team makes a comeback.
The food at Tia Maria’s was excellent, but Sally barely tasted it. Her competitive instincts aroused, she focused on the game between herself and Daniel, on move and countermove, to the exclusion of all else. As the meal drew to a close, she considered herself down on points, but continued fighting gamely. Her body thoroughly awake and alert, her mind working at warp speed, she kept score play by play, engrossed in the contest. He’s moving into his end game.