Sultry

by Mary Lynn Baxter

  Lindsay studied her friend, thinking something was different about her. Yet she couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

  “It’s my hair,” Rita admitted in a shy, hesitant tone. “I cut it.”

  “Right!” Lindsay exclaimed. “And it looks great, too.”

  A blush crept into Rita’s leather-textured cheeks, giving her a glow that had heretofore been missing. “Thanks. It’s so much easier to take care of now. It doesn’t take me nearly as much time.”

  “And time is something you don’t have enough of.”

  Rita’s face sobered once more. “You can say that again. We have so many women to place with nowhere to place them, that it’s completely overwhelming.”

  “I know.”

  They were quiet for a minute, each sipping on her coffee.

  Rita was the first to break the silence. “So, again, what’s up?”

  “How do you know anything’s up?” Lindsay tried to contain her excitement and keep a straight face, but she knew her eyes had given her away. They always did.

  “Your eyes.”

  “I knew it.” Lindsay grinned. “But you’re right, I do have something up my sleeve.”

  “Let’s hear it. I need some good news.”

  “Well, here goes.”

  By the time Lindsay finished outlining her plan, tears were running down Rita’s face.

  “Oh, Lindsay!” she cried. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t say anything yet. It’s not a done deal by any stretch of the imagination. We have to raise the money.”

  “Do you think that’s possible?” Rita’s voice was filled with awe.

  “I’m going to give it my best shot.”

  “Then I know it will come about.”

  “Meanwhile, I certainly need your input. When you get some spare time—ha, that’s a joke—jot your thoughts, needs, ideas and goals down on paper.”

  “Consider it done.”

  They both swallowed another sip of coffee as they got up. Then Lindsay gave Rita a hug. “I’ll call you later.”

  “I’ll walk you to the door. Come on.”

  They heard the sobbing almost immediately, coming from the front room of the facility. Lindsay and Rita looked at each other, their eyes clouding over, then headed toward the pitiful sound.

  Lindsay was the first through the door, her heart in her throat. “Oh, my God, Annie.”

  The woman who stood in front of her had been helped by the shelter, but had recently gone back to her husband, convinced he’d turned over a new leaf. When Lindsay had learned that, she’d been upset, thinking Annie and her precious five-year-old daughter Bridget would be perfect candidates for her proposed facility.

  And she hadn’t thought for one minute that Annie’s husband had changed one iota. Unfortunately, her fears had been right on target.

  Now Annie was hurt, battered and bruised. And bloody. Bright red blood was splattered all over the front of her blouse. Suddenly Lindsay felt the room spin as her mind roared back to another time, another place—to her mother’s blood-soaked body.

  “Are you all right, Lindsay?”

  Rita’s soothing voice at her shoulder suddenly righted the world. That was when she noticed that the blood had resulted from a split lip, not anything life-threatening. “I’m fine,” she whispered, then went to Annie and wrapped her arms around her.

  “Oh, Miss Newman,” Annie gulped, “I’m so sorry.”

  “Shh, it’s going to be all right,” Lindsay said, fighting back her own tears. “You need to get to the hospital.”

  Annie left Lindsay’s arms and went to Rita, who had taken charge. Lindsay dropped to her knees in front of the child, who looked like she’d seen a ghost.

  “Are you all right, sweetie?”

  The little girl’s chin quivered, and tears spilled from her wide green eyes. “My daddy hurted my mommy.”

  “Did he hurt you, too?” Lindsay’s hands were gently running up and down the tiny, malnourished body, searching for possible injuries.

  “No.” Bridget sniffed. “Mommy hid me.”

  “Good for Mommy.”

  Lindsay held the child close for a long moment, feeling her small body tremble. Once she pulled back, she brushed the straggly strands of hair out of Bridget’s eyes.

  “Is my mommy going to get well?”

  “Of course,” Lindsay assured her in a choked voice. “Don’t you worry about that for one minute.”

  “Can I go with her?”

  “No, darling, not right now.” Lindsay peered up at Rita, who was hovering above her after seeing that Annie was taken to the emergency room. “You can see her later. Okay?”

  Bridget nodded, though her lower lip couldn’t seem to stop quivering.

  “Go with Miss Rita, and I’ll see you soon.” Lindsay brushed the tears off the child’s thin face.

  “You promise?”

  “I promise and cross my heart.”

  Bridget gave her a wet kiss on the cheek before reaching up to Rita. Lindsay didn’t know how long she stood there, her throat all lumped up, before she could find the wherewithal to turn, walk out the door and make her way home.

  Now, as she jerked herself back to the moment at hand, she frowned. Where was Mitch? That thought hadn’t done more than hit her when she heard a tap on the door.

  Mitch? No, that wouldn’t be him. There was no reason for him to come inside. Most likely it was her daddy, or Dolly. She got up, hurried across the room and jerked open the door, only to have the bottom drop out of her stomach.

  Mitch stood facing her.

  She tried to ignore the excitement that leapt through her veins. He smelled faintly of mint and sweat, and needed a shave.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, not bothering to mask the concern in those incredible eyes of his.

  “I’m fine,” she said, feeling dizzy.

  “May I come in?”

  She licked her dry lips. “Uh, sure.”

  Still, he didn’t cross the threshold. Instead their gazes met and held. He absolutely looked good enough to eat, she thought, color seeping into her face. She feared he could read her mind.

  Mitch cleared his throat, breaking the thick silence. “It’ll only take a second to assess the damage.”

  “No problem,” she said, stepping aside and letting him pass.

  She watched, admiring his tight tush as he strode to the French doors. What was happening to her? Every time he spoke, every time he moved, it cut through her physically, sending strange and unwanted images to her brain.

  She shivered.

  “Hey, you sure you’re all right?”

  Lindsay shook her head and forced a smile. “I’m fine, really. But I have to say, this was a close call.”

  “That’s for sure. It’s a miracle no one was hurt.”

  “Isn’t it, though?” she said, finding it hard to believe they were indulging in small talk while a torturous tension filled the air.

  His eyes surveyed the room, then landed back on her. “Nice.”

  For some crazy reason, color invaded her cheeks again. She wasn’t sure whether he was talking about the room, or her. If his eyes and thickly spoken word were any indication, she would bet the latter.

  Was he coming on to her?

  “Look, I’d like to apologize for acting like an ass the other day,” he said in a slightly disjointed voice.

  Her heartbeat soared off the charts. “It’s okay.”

  “No, it isn’t.” He paused. “So is my apology accepted?”

  “Only if you’ll have dinner with me.”

  Lindsay’s eyes immediately widened in horror. Good Lord, where had that come from? It was as if her own subconscious had blindsided her.

  “Look, forget I asked that,” she said in a hurried and mortified tone. “You left no doubt the other day how you felt about—”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  His low, briskly spoken words stopped her cold. “What did you say?”

  “
I said, sure, why not.” His tone was mocking now, though a real smile softened his lips.

  Lindsay sucked in her breath and held it.

  “But right now, it’s first things first,” Mitch added. “I need to get downstairs and get the men to work.”

  With that, he turned and walked out.

  Lindsay covered her scalding cheeks with her palms. What had she done? She had given in to her desire. Even now, he was standing in the front of her mind, making her want him. Panicked, she rubbed her arms, feeling as if all her nerves were riding on top of her skin.

  If only he hadn’t apologized, then maybe she would have kept her mouth shut. If only she hadn’t seen Annie all bruised and bloody, dredging up horrifying and unwanted memories.

  If only he hadn’t accepted her invitation.

  She placed her hands on her head to try to stop her mind from playing this foolish game.

  What was done was done.

  Lindsay sank onto the side of the bed, feeling like someone had uncorked a valve inside her and let all the air out of her body. She fell back, limp as a rag doll, and stared at the ceiling.

  Ten

  Lindsay clutched the basket tighter in her hand, but she kept on walking. She was on an emotional roller-coaster ride, a ride that she didn’t want to end.

  The roller coaster had started the instant Mitch had appeared at her door, and the bumpy ride had intensified after she’d gone downstairs and watched the crew remove the tree from her balcony.

  Afterward, Mitch had grabbed the chain saw and started to work. She had stood spellbound by the display of straining muscles and a lock of hair that settled on his forehead.

  God, but he’d looked rugged and manly. And dangerous.

  She didn’t know why that word had charged to the forefront of her mind, but it had. She’d been tempted to blurt out that she had changed her mind, that he was off the hook for dinner.

  Only she hadn’t.

  Instead, she had stood motionless, watching him work with the energy of a well-oiled machine, crazy to know what there was about this man that made her heart pound and her palms sweat. No other man had ever appealed to her in such a stark sexual way, or so hard and so fast.

  As a result, her emotions had been fragile. Everything inside her was raw. She hadn’t wanted to be alone.

  And despite the surly edge he often wore like a proud shield, she sensed an underlying core of strength, and not just in brawn, either—a strength that she had obviously needed and been drawn to.

  She wondered what his motive for accepting had been.

  She was the boss’s daughter, for heaven’s sake, she reminded herself. Under the circumstances, what else could he have said? No? Her gut instinct reassured her that Mitch wasn’t anyone’s yes man, that he did his own thing, according to his own rules.

  In the end, however, her conscience had won, and she’d given him a way out. When he’d finished with the tree and she had thanked him and the men, she said in a low tone, “Look, are you sure…” Her voice trailed off at the same time that her face began to feel scorched, and not from the sun, either.

  “Are you getting cold feet, Miss Newman?”

  His eyes were warmly mocking, causing her heart to pound that much faster. But she didn’t flinch. “Not in the least.”

  “Me, either.”

  Her tongue circled her bottom lip. “So—”

  “So I’ll meet you at my place,” he said in a gravelly voice, his gaze locked on her coral-colored mouth.

  Her eyes widened in alarm.

  “I didn’t figure you’d want to be seen in public with me.”

  Her face burned hotter. “I—I hadn’t really thought about it.” And she hadn’t. She’d just flown by the seat of her pants. Now she was having to face the consequences.

  “Didn’t figure you had,” he replied in a throaty drawl.

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “That I fix dinner for you.”

  “You cook?” she asked inanely.

  His mouth twitched. “Yeah, I cook.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t have to. I invited you, so I’ll bring dinner.”

  His eyes settled back on her face. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  He hunched his shoulders. “Suit yourself.”

  She had. She’d gone to Dolly and asked her to pack a picnic basket full of goodies. Although Dolly had looked at her strangely, she hadn’t asked why, much to Lindsay’s relief.

  Now, as twilight was fast approaching and his cottage came into sight, Lindsay swallowed against the knot of panic in the back of her throat. Pausing, she inhaled a deep breath, though it did little to calm her. The air was too thick and heavy as it passed through her lungs.

  Forbidden.

  What she was doing was forbidden. To say that her daddy wouldn’t approve was an understatement. He would be livid if he knew where she was and what she was up to. But he didn’t, thank goodness. He had gone out for the evening to a dinner party with his latest woman friend.

  If Dolly did by chance see her, she wouldn’t say anything.

  Still, Lindsay found herself casting a furtive glance around. Nothing. The grounds were quiet, except for the sounds of the night critters. Yet they offered comfort for her troubled mind and soul.

  “Lindsay.”

  The deep pull of Mitch’s voice suddenly unlocked her legs, and she walked toward the porch, toward him. He was dressed in a white T-shirt and low-slung jeans. His hair appeared damp, as if he’d just gotten out of the shower.

  She had chosen similar attire, wearing an aqua-colored T-shirt, cutoffs and sandals. She felt his eyes sweep over her and perhaps linger a tad on the thrust of her firm breasts.

  Forcing herself not to blush under his scrutiny, she surrendered the basket to his outstretched hand, careful not to touch him.

  “Come in.” His tone was on the brusque side.

  “Thanks,” she muttered, stepping around him, only to stop just inside the door.

  “What’s wrong? Having second thoughts?”

  He was so close behind her that she felt his breath graze her cheekbone at the same time that the subtle, clean smell of his body washed over her.

  Lindsay rebelled against the panic and forced herself to move forward. He went around her and strode to the dining table nestled in one corner of the cozy living area, where he set down the basket.

  Then he turned and frowned at her. “What the hell’s in there?”

  She forced a smile. “Food.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “A helluva lot of it, I’d say.”

  “Well, you have been felling trees.”

  He chuckled. “You got that right.”

  Without warning, an awkward silence descended over the room as it dawned on her what had happened. She had fallen for him like a ton of bricks. No rhyme or reason. No logical explanation.

  “Look—” she began, trying to hide her burgeoning panic.

  “Sit down, Lindsay. You’re safe.”

  She swallowed. “I never thought I wasn’t.”

  “Yeah, right.” He paused. “Keep in mind that you’re not Little Red Riding Hood and I’m not the Big Bad Wolf.”

  In spite of herself, Lindsay smiled. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  “Yep. So why don’t you sit down and relax?”

  “Uh, right.”

  He gave her another mocking smile before he turned and walked into the kitchen. Once she was seated, Lindsay perused her surroundings and found that his living quarters offered no clue as to who this man was, or what made him tick.

  Nothing personal adorned the furniture or walls. He lived there, yet he didn’t really live there. She wondered why he chose to exist in such a stark environment. Maybe he had no intention of remaining long.

  After all, she knew nothing about him, she reminded herself. She suspected Cooper did—at least enough to have hired him.

  “I can see the wheels of your mind turning,” Mitch said,
making his way back into the room with a glass of wine in one hand and a beer in the other. “I hope you like white wine.”

  “Actually, it’s my favorite.”

  “I’m sure it’s not what you’re accustomed to, but it’ll have to do.”

  “Meaning?”

  He shrugged as he sat down on the other end of the sofa. “Meaning it’s a cheapo.”

  “In spite of what you think, I do enjoy things that aren’t expensive.” His assumption that she didn’t irritated her more than she cared to admit.

  He took a swig of his beer. When his head came back down, his gaze landed on her. “So what about your boyfriend? I bet he wouldn’t approve of you being here.”

  His unexpected question caught her totally off guard, and for a moment she couldn’t respond. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

  “Sure you do. I saw you with him the other evening.”

  “He’s not my ‘boyfriend,’ as you so bluntly put it.” Her tone dripped with unsuppressed sarcasm. “He’s just a friend, though I have to admit, my daddy would like him to be more.”

  A smirk crossed his face. “Ah, so Daddy’s picked out the man for his little girl to marry.”

  “Which isn’t going to happen,” she said crossly.

  “Are you sure about that? Cooper’s a lot like me. He’s a sore loser.”

  “We’ll see,” she said, red-faced. Peter was the last person she wanted to discuss. “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Is there a woman in your life?”

  “Nope.”

  “Care to add to that?”

  “Nope.”

  Lindsay’s lips tightened on the rim of the glass. She took a larger sip than she should have. The wine burned far beyond her throat as she watched him stretch his legs in front of him as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

  She knew better, or at least she hoped she did. She wanted his stomach to be coiled as tightly as hers was.

  Mitch stood suddenly, seeming to tower over her. “I’ll get you some more wine.”

  Why not? she thought. She needed something to temper her jangled nerves. “I’d love some.”

  Once he’d returned and refilled her glass, he eyed her carefully. Rather than look at him, she lowered her gaze and took a more than generous sip of the wine.