He turned his head, and for a few seconds she was afraid she'd pushed too far, assumed too much.
"Lana," he said, his voice raspy. "I…"
Her heart withdrew, preparing for rejection. He wasn't looking for a relationship, he would remind her. He had more important obligations—his business, his brother. He stared at her, and she tried to banish the thought that he was the most handsome man she'd ever known. And their chemistry—holy high voltage! She could barely keep from touching him. But common sense told her that their raging passion would soon burn itself out.
Now that the conquest was over, had his interest in her already been extinguished?
"What?" she asked, then closed her eyes. The sooner he put his feelings—or lack thereof—on the table, the sooner she could dispel the fairy tales that had infiltrated her holiday-weakened mind.
"I, um…" He cleared his throat. "No, as a matter of fact, I don't have plans for New Year's Eve."
Her heart lurched crazily. "How about Christmas morning?" she murmured, braver now. She slid her hand over his rock-hard stomach.
The flash of his white teeth coincided with his surrendering groan. "This is going to be hard to explain to Will."
She laughed, a little afraid of how much his words buoyed her. "You'll think of something."
23
EVEN IN THE CROWDED great room of the Stillmans' new home, Greg knew the precise moment that Lana arrived at the New Year's Eve party. The energy in the air increased markedly, ratcheting up the temperature. Her voice reached him before he saw her—a lyrical, uplifting sound that elicited involuntary responses from his nether regions.
They'd decided after spending Christmas Eve together that it would be prudent to put their relationship on hold until after the conflict of interest passed. No good would come of the shop owners finding out she was sleeping with the enemy. But Lana had asked Greg to attend the New Year's Eve party, anyway, promising to flirt with him from across the room.
The week since he'd left her bed had seemed like an eternity. The past few days he'd been plagued by the potentially life-changing decisions he had to make that would have been straightforward just a few weeks ago. If he remained firm on the rezoning plan, he'd pocket a small fortune. The money would allow him to accept a low-paying entry-level position in the DA's office. And a neglected area of downtown Lexington would receive an economic boost.
So why couldn't he find the nerve to tell Lana? And why did the faces of the Hyde Parkland shop owners haunt him—the dubious smirk on Marshall Ballou's face, the wrinkled concern on Vic the Barber's ugly mug, the nervous twitch on Maxie Dodd's flour-covered features.
Lana came into view, stealing his breath. He couldn't fail to notice the trusting optimism on her sweet face.
What should be a slam-dunk decision was being blocked by a pair of violet-colored eyes. She smiled at him from across the room, a private I-know-what-you-look-like-naked smile that made breathing more difficult. Greg swallowed hard and tried to ignore the stab of disappointment when she turned to greet someone else.
"Greg Healey?" a man's voice asked behind him.
Greg turned to see his host, Alex's husband, striding up.
"Jack Stillman."
Dressed in jeans and an untucked shirt, the big man looked more like the UK football icon he'd been in college than a partner in a successful advertising firm. Greg extended his hand. "I remember you from the university."
"I remember you, too," Jack said with a lifted eyebrow. "We've both changed a little, eh?"
Greg nodded, wondering if Jack, like everyone else, had thought he was a jerk in college, and if the man knew about his disastrous first meeting with Lana.
"Lana explained the mix-up about the classified ads," Jack said, as if he'd read Greg's mind.
Heat suffused his face. "Damn embarrassing."
Jack laughed heartily. "Reminds me of when I met Alex. I thought she was an IRS agent coming to audit the advertising agency, so I laid it on pretty thick about how we were barely able to pay the light bill, etcetera. Then I found out that she was from Tremont's and she'd come by early to scout me and the agency before I pitched the account."
Greg grinned and pulled on his chin. "Ouch."
"Yeah. And she's been a thorn in my side ever since," he said good-naturedly, then indicated his striking wife with a nod. "But it's worth every minute of the pain."
Greg's gaze involuntarily strayed to Lana. She was stunning in snug pink jeans and an oversize white shirt cinched with a silver belt.
"Lana's a great gal, man. Tread lightly, if you know what's good for you."
He frowned. "I'm not going to do anything to hurt Lana."
Jack laughed. "Lana can take care of herself. I was talking about saving yourself." He clapped Greg on the back. "Enjoy the party, man."
Greg didn't have time to ponder Jack's words, because a redhead with harsh makeup slinked up to him, smiling wide. Her lipstick was drawn outside of her mouth, making her look as if she were all gums. "Hello," she said silkily, batting tarantula-like eyelashes.
"Hello," he said with a tight smile, his mind so…elsewhere.
"THIS IS DEREK STILLMAN, Jack's brother," Alex said, making introductions. "And his wife, Janine."
A very pregnant Janine, Lana noted with a smile. "It's nice to meet you." They made a fabulous-looking couple—she the blond flower-child, he the brawny businessman. Newlyweds, she remembered Alex saying. Something about Derek standing in for his brother Jack as best man at a wedding and falling in love with the bride.
"And this is my friend Manny Oliver from Atlanta," Janine said, gesturing to a tall blond man, impeccably dressed.
Lana shook hands all around, immediately liking Manny's friendly demeanor. He worked in the hospitality industry, he said. Hotel management. He seemed impressed that she owned her own business—for how long, though, was another story.
"Everyone, this is my friend and roommate, Rich Enderling," she said, repeating the introductions.
Rich and Derek exchanged a few humorous observations about Rich's employer, Phillips Foods, which was also a client of Jack and Derek's advertising agency. Then Rich extended his hand to Manny.
Lana noticed the slightest pause when the men's hands met, and the split second of awareness that ricocheted between them. Was it possible that Manny was gay?
Yes, she realized a few seconds later when the men extricated themselves unobtrusively from the little knot of people and moved in the direction of the chilled buffet on a granite-topped sideboard. Lana angled her head, recalling Rich's wistful words as he stood in front of her kitchen window. I have a good feeling about Lexington, Lana, like something significant is going to happen for me here. And perhaps it just had, she acknowledged, as Rich laughed in response to something Manny had said.
"So what do you think about the house?" Alex whispered near her ear.
Lana lifted her hand to indicate…everything. The high ceilings, the elaborate fixtures, the sumptuous natural materials. Her friend had exquisite taste, and the money to indulge her knack. "The house is spectacular, as you well know."
Alex's smile was mischievous. "I was just curious, seeing as you've barely taken your eyes off Greg Healey since you arrived."
Lana blushed, resisting the urge to seek him out. "I didn't even ride with Greg, Alex. Don't make a big deal out of the fact that I invited him."
"So what's really going on with the two of you?" Alex asked, sipping from a mixed drink.
If Lana knew herself, she'd be tempted to tell her best friend. Christmas Eve night had been magical, not to mention exhausting. Greg had left the next morning after daybreak, limping slightly. Lana had drifted through the day in an endorphin-induced haze. He had called twice during the week, both times when she'd been out, but had left brief messages of no consequence. Still, the sound of his voice had sent her pulse racing. And every night after she'd closed the shop, she'd invented a reason to step out onto the balcony for a few minutes, reveling in th
e remote but delicious possibility that his eyes were on her.
"Lana?"
She jerked back to the present. "What?"
Alex tsk-tsked. "You've fallen for him, haven't you."
After looking around to make sure they were out of earshot of everyone else, she smiled sheepishly. "That depends. What was it like when you fell for Jack?"
A dreamy look came over her friend's face. "Oh, I merely thought about him every waking second, and the sight of him made me forget my name."
Lana winced. "I was afraid you were going to say that."
"I knew it! It's about time you fell in love."
"Shh! Keep your voice down!"
Alex grinned and did a little dance that Lana attributed to the rum in her cola. Then her friend stopped, mid-jig. "But what does this mean for the rezoning proposal?"
Lana studied her coffee-stained fingernails. "We agreed not to see each other until after the vote on the rezoning proposal, to avoid any appearance of impropriety. We're meeting with Ms. Wheeler the day after tomorrow to review all angles of the proposal and to submit our final arguments." Then she sighed. "But to be honest, Alex, I've been thinking for some time that Greg's plan is the best chance the Hyde Parkland area has for resurrection."
Alex's eyes widened. "But your arguments against the development were so convincing."
She shook her head. "My arguments were based on historical factors with a dozen variables that differ from this situation. My projections could be wrong. I think I was more fired up by the way the proposal was being railroaded through than by the proposal itself."
"Are you sure Greg hasn't influenced you to change your mind?"
She nodded. Not directly, anyway. But how could she explain that she'd begun to see him in another light, not just as a money-hungry landowner trying to take advantage of his tenants? She admired the quiet wisdom he exuded. And any man who had made love to her as tenderly as he had…Well, in a word, she trusted him. Incredible, but true. "Greg and I haven't talked about the project since—for a while. In fact, the couple of times I tried to bring it up, he changed the subject. He has no idea I'm leaning in favor of his proposal."
"So have you told the other shop owners?"
She nodded. "We met twice this week to talk about the state of the neighborhood, which is rapidly declining. The truth is, I don't know if Greg's plan will work, but like it or not, his is the only plan that's being funded. If the shop owners negotiate a delay or a compromise, I'm afraid we're simply postponing the inevitable."
"So just like that, you're going to give in?"
"Alex, I know when to surrender."
"Then is now a good time to tell you that I agree with your new stance completely?"
Lana gaped. "But all along you've been saying—"
"That I would be there for moral support. Personally, I think Greg Healey is the best chance the Hyde Parkland area has to survive."
She put a hand to her temple. "But you enlisted Ms. Wheeler's help for the shop owners."
Alex nodded. "She and I both believe that even the best ideas need to be challenged in case something better evolves."
Lana swallowed. "So you think Greg's plan is best."
"I'd prefer that some of the retail landscape be left intact, but the residential zoning is badly needed."
Jack was headed their way, looking as if he wanted to talk to his wife about something. Alex's hand was warm when she gave Lana's arm an affectionate squeeze. "We'll talk about this more later, okay?"
Lana nodded, feeling powerless. Her best friend, the council president, Greg—they'd all been humoring her? Pretending to consider her concerns when the decision had already been made? Her skin tingled with embarrassment and hurt. She realized Greg had no intention of their picking up where they'd left off after the rezoning project was decided. The rezoning project had already been decided.
Across the room, Greg was talking to a sleek redhead, an employee of Alex's who tossed her hair to effect. The cat-and-mouse game that Lana and Greg had been playing since she'd arrived had seemed playful and proprietary at first, but now seemed immature and manipulative. She took a deep drink of cranberry juice and grenadine, pursing her mouth and swallowing tightly. She glanced over again at Greg and the redhead—it looked like the cat had found the catnip.
"Lana!"
She conjured up a smile at the sound of Will's happy voice. He and Annette walked toward her, Annette clinging to his arm possessively. They looked adorable. "Hi, you two. Having a good time?" If nothing else good came out of this fiasco, at least they had found each other—a small miracle, really.
Will nodded and Annette squealed. "Isn't this a gorgeous house?"
"Absolutely," she agreed, taking another drink.
"Why aren't you with Gregory?" Will asked with a little frown.
Her pride smarting, Lana pointed. "Gregory is occupied."
The couple turned to look at Greg and the she-cat.
Will's frown deepened. "But he's supposed to be nice to you, Lana. We talked about it."
She frowned. Greg had talked to Will about their relationship? "What do you mean, Will?"
The big man was agitated now. "Gregory said he was going to be nice to you to win you over. Now he's messing things up."
A tiny alarm sounded in the back of her mind, but Lana laid a hand on his arm. "Calm down, Will. What do you mean 'win me over'?"
But Will looked confused, his eyes wide and troubled. Greg must have noticed Will's body language because he broke away from the woman and moved in their direction, his face a mask of concern. "Is something wrong, Will?"
"You're not being nice to Lana," he accused loudly.
From the shocked looked on Greg's face, she gathered Will rarely raised his voice.
"What are you talking about?" Greg asked, clearly puzzled.
Will shook his finger. "Shame on you, Gregory. You said you were going to be nice to Lana to win her over to your side—"
Her heart shivered and shrunk. She took one, two steps backward.
"—but you're over there being nice to someone else. Are you shutting down that other lady's business, too?"
The expression on Greg's face when his gaze met hers could have best been described as guilt, pure and unadulterated guilt.
The picture was suddenly so clear. He'd slept with her to neutralize her opposition to the project. The outcome had already been decided, but he must have wanted to be certain she wouldn't pose a problem. Or maybe he saw the conquest as a bonus. Through the metallic hum in her ears, Lana heard a thump and felt moisture on her leg. She looked down and stared at the growing stain of cranberry juice on the expensive handwoven sisal. Alex would kill her for ruining her brand-new carpet.
In the midst of the small commotion that ensued, Lana slipped through the crowd toward the door. She didn't look back.
24
"MESSAGE ONE…Lana, it's Alex. Why did you leave in such a hurry last night? Call me."
"Message two…Lana, it's Greg. I need to explain about the things Will said last night. Call me."
"Message three…Lana, it's Mother. I'm back from the cruise. Call me so I can tell you all about it, dear."
"Message four…Lana, it's Greg. I went by the shop today thinking I'd find you there, but saw you were closed for New Year's. Please call me when you get this message."
"Message five…Lana, it's Alex. I went by the shop today thinking you might be open, then swung by your apartment, but you must have been out. I wanted to let you know that Buckhead Coffee has decided against renting space in Tremont's. And I want to find out how you're doing. Call me when you get in."
Lana set down her blue helmet, ruffled her hair and pushed a button to delete all the messages.
"Where have you been all day?" Rich asked, strolling into the living room.
"Oh, just riding around, looking for a new location for the coffee shop."
"Find anything?"
She shook her head. It had seemed like a good i
dea, but her heart wasn't in it—like looking for a new home when you truly loved the one you were already living in.
"Your phone has been ringing off the hook," he said. "Sorry we got separated last night at the party. I didn't even realize you'd left."
"I should have told you. Did you have a good time?"
The smile on his face was answer enough, but he nodded. "I met some interesting people. Did you and Greg cut out early?"
"No," she said with a shaky smile. "Just me. I spilled my drink all over myself, and decided to leave before the night got any worse."
He angled his head at her. "Lovers' quarrel?"
"We're not lovers," she amended, then shrugged nonchalantly. "He was only being nice to me to win me over to his side of the rezoning project." She couldn't even say his name.
Rich made a rueful sound with his cheek. "How do you know that?"
"His brother told me."
"Is his brother trustworthy?"
"The man couldn't tell a lie if he wanted to."
"So you were under the impression that Greg was looking for a relationship when you slept with him?"
Lana shucked off her black-and-white spotted coat and hung it on Harry's obliging shoulder. "No. But I thought…I mean, I was hoping…"
"That he would fall in love with you and change his mind?" he asked softly.
She bit into her lip and blinked back hot tears. "Ridiculous, isn't it?"
"Not really. Like I said, you want to believe that people have good motivations. It's kind of refreshing."
Lana walked to the kitchen and filled her teakettle with water. "But it hurts," she murmured.
"So, you love this guy?"
She studied the water rushing into the kettle. Making tea was such a soothing process. "I think I must, or else I wouldn't feel so lousy." Her laugh was humorless. "I've been alone most of my life and liked it that way. But now…"
"Everything's different?" He sat on a stool and leaned in to the counter. "When do you see him again?"
"Tomorrow morning we're meeting with the president of the city council to talk about the rezoning proposal for the last time before the council takes a vote."
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