Behind the Red Doors

by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Stephanie Bond

  She knew it was a ridiculous, juvenile, pathetic exercise, but the man evoked such a powerful physical response in her, she couldn’t help but compare herself to the mystery woman. And some small part of her acknowledged that she had harbored a reunion fantasy about Carter—that they’d cross paths and something would…spark and they’d get a second chance at whatever might have been. Accepting that Carter was nearly engaged meant letting go of that fantasy and conceding that his limited interest in her had nothing to do with his aversion to commitment and everything to do with his aversion to committing to her.

  “Earth calling Faith.”

  She blinked. “Hmm?”

  Stacy angled her head. “I asked if you’d seen the hearts in the diamond.”

  “Er, no.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Of course.”

  “You seem…preoccupied. Are you worried about the crowds?”

  “A little. I think I’m going to get some coffee before we open. Can I bring you anything?”

  “No, thanks.” Stacy bent to peer at the glass-encased stone.

  Faith tried not to frown as she approached the two men, who seemed to be embroiled in yet another dispute. They had agreed on little since the stone had arrived yesterday. Ben Sills was almost as tall as Carter, but not as broad. And while his fair hair and coloring made him seem less…dangerous, he wasn’t backing down from his line of reasoning.

  “Gentlemen, is there a problem?”

  Carter’s body language eased a fraction. “No, Faith. No problem.”

  Ben Sills, lean and handsome in his own dark uniform of slacks and sport coat, gave her a pleasant smile. “Ms. Sherman, I was saying I think it would be better if Officer Grayson—”

  “Lieutenant Grayson,” Carter interjected.

  The other guard conceded with a nod. “If Lieutenant Grayson doesn’t wear a firearm.”

  Carter jammed his hands on his hips. “And I was saying that’s bullshit.”

  “Mr. Sills,” Faith said in a calm voice, “why do you object to Lieutenant Grayson wearing a firearm?”

  The fairer man hesitated, then passed a wary glance over Carter’s rigid bearing. “Would you excuse us for a moment, Lieutenant?”

  Carter glowered, but stepped away several feet to stand in front of the entrance with his back to them, arms crossed.

  “Ms. Sherman—”

  “Please call me Faith.”

  The guard smiled amiably. “All right. Call me Ben.” He stole a glimpse at Carter’s back, then leaned close. “Faith, I’ve traveled with this diamond for six years, and the only times I’ve had trouble was when I had to work with a cowboy type like Grayson. It’s not his fault—he’s a seasoned cop, and he’s overqualified for this job.”

  She murmured agreement.

  “Unfortunately,” he continued, “a man like Grayson can come across to the public as menacing, especially with a firearm at his side. I was put on this tour because I understand not only the security aspect of the job, but also the marketing aspect.” He lifted his hands apologetically. “We only want you to get your money’s worth. This diamond is supposed to be an accessible exhibit that people can enjoy.”

  Faith pressed her lips together. “But the contract required that I provide an additional armed guard.”

  “Didn’t you add an armed guard by the main entrance?”

  “Yes…at the lieutenant’s suggestion.”

  “That will satisfy your obligation.” He opened his sport coat to reveal a revolver in a shoulder holster. “Meanwhile, my firearm will be here and unobtrusive.”

  She smiled. “All this talk about guns makes me a little nervous.”

  “So you see my point?”

  She sighed and nodded. “I’ll talk to Lieutenant Grayson.” Faith moved toward the showroom entrance where Carter stood. The other man was right—Carter looked like a thundercloud, dark and intimidating. She didn’t remember him being so edgy before, but then again, she’d already determined she hadn’t really known him. She walked up and turned on her most cheerful voice. “Join me for a cup of coffee downstairs?”

  He turned, and she wondered when over the next two weeks she would become immune to this man’s presence. Something hot flashed in his eyes, then disappeared. He was angry with the other guard. It was absurd to think that he harbored any anger toward her over the way she’d ended things. After all, if she hadn’t gotten into the cab that night, he might never have met his live-in lover—the woman he wanted to marry. Besides, if he were angry about that night, wouldn’t he have said something before now?

  He studied her until her skin began to tingle. “Coffee? Sure,” he said finally, then held open the red door for her to exit. As she walked under his extended arm, she caught the barest scent of his earthy cologne—evergreen and spice. He moved with the casual grace of a large animal, in command of every muscle, even the ones compromised by his injury.

  “How is your leg?”

  “Coming around.”

  “How did it happen?”

  He shrugged. “Drug bust that went down wrong. Caught a stray bullet.”

  Faith shivered. He could just as easily have been killed. “Would you like to take the elevator?”

  “Not for my leg, but I do need to double check the elevator’s operation.”

  Yesterday he had double-and triple-checked every inch of the place—doors and windows, heating and air ducts, even the chimney. He had watched their opening and closing procedures, observed traffic patterns, and asked a hundred questions. Faith was grateful for his expertise, and had already enacted his recommendations. The man made her feel so safe, yet at the same time so vulnerable. This was the enigma, she told herself, that she had mistaken for infatuation when they had known each other before.

  She led the way down the catwalk to the elevator, highly aware of his body moving next to hers. His size was no small part of her initial attraction to him—she wasn’t a small woman, but felt diminutive standing next to Carter. He was beautifully proportioned, but everything about him was oversize: his shoulders, his limbs, his hands and feet. When he’d kissed her, she’d had the sensation of being absorbed into his body. And during their more heated kisses, she had felt the promise of his impressive arousal. She had shamelessly wanted to sleep with him, a feeling that she could call up even now because he was the only man who had ever made her feel so wanton.

  “Faith.”

  She blinked. “Yes?”

  He was holding the elevator door with his arm. “After you.”

  She walked in, feeling flushed and foolish. If she was going to have a successful sales period over the next couple of weeks, she was going to have to regain her focus. And the best way to remain focused would be to keep telling herself that the man simply wasn’t available. Period. End of story.

  The door closed behind them, as if sealing her resolve. Oblivious to her inner turmoil, Carter studied the metal ceiling plates, the button panel, and checked for a dial tone on the emergency phone. Satisfied, he pushed the ground-level button and assumed a wide stance, pelvis thrust forward, arms crossed. The man expanded to fit the space he occupied. They faced the closed door, his sleeve touching hers. His imposing proximity sent her nerves dancing as they descended to the lower floor.

  “Um, Carter…about your gun. Maybe Ben is right.”

  He turned and lifted one black eyebrow. “Ben?”

  Her cheeks warmed. “He has a point about not making the public uncomfortable.”

  “I’m only interested in making would-be thieves uncomfortable.”

  “And I appreciate your suggestion to add an armed guard at the main entrance. But after further consideration, I’d rather you not wear your sidearm in the showroom.”

  His mouth tightened, then he shrugged. “You’re the boss.”

  Her chest rose at his offhand tone. Yes, she was the boss. Carter was obviously accustomed to having a woman around with an accommodating nature. She frowned. The more she thought abo
ut his live-in lover, the more she questioned the woman’s good sense. In fact, she’d bet that the more she found out about the woman, the better she’d feel about dumping him. Faith fingered a lock of hair behind her ear and affected an equally casual tone. “So, Carter, tell me about your girlfriend.”

  Carter heard her words, but his brain took its sweet time to assimilate them. Oh, yeah—Faith thought he had a girlfriend. A live-in girlfriend. His tongue froze in his mouth as he cast about for credible details. “Um, she’s…great.” The elevator door slid open and he prayed she’d drop the subject.

  “What’s her name?” she asked as she stepped out.

  He winced and followed her. “Um, Trudy.” Hadn’t he said his loyal Labrador was the only woman he needed in his life?

  “How did you and Trudy meet?”

  His mind raced. “She…came to the station.”

  “You work together?”

  “No. She…was visiting.”

  “Oh.”

  Great—now Faith probably thought his girlfriend was a criminal. “I mean, she was lost.”

  “Oh.”

  Great—now Faith probably thought his girlfriend was dim. “I mean, she was new in town.” He held open the interior door and stole a glance at her rear view as she walked through. She wore a short, flowered skirt with a flirty ruffle that stopped just above her knee. The woman had mouthwatering legs. Carter wet his lips and reminded himself he was supposed to behave like a man committed to another woman. The trouble was, his sex-deprived body didn’t seem to want to play along.

  “What does Trudy do for a living?”

  He followed her across the polished checkerboard floor of the foyer. “She…works from my—our—place…fetching and…running around and…doing things.”

  “She runs errands for people?”

  “Yes. She runs errands. For people.”

  “That’s a very up-and-coming service industry.”

  It was? “Uh-huh.”

  Thank goodness they were at the coffee bar. He nodded to Mr. Willis, the token male in the establishment, and ordered a large black coffee. “None of that flavored stuff,” Carter said, then added, “No offense.”

  “None taken,” the man assured him, then handed over one of the best cups of coffee Carter had ever tasted. Damn, going back to the sewer water at the station would be hell.

  Faith ordered something exotic for herself, and an extra cup that he presumed she was taking back to the girl who worked in the jewelry store. As inconspicuously as possible, he observed Faith over the rim of his mug and watched her expression change as she interacted with Mr. Willis, a man she appeared to hold in high esteem. With a jerk of conscience, he wondered if she’d ever looked at him that way. When they’d dated a year ago, he’d been so wrapped up in curbing his desire for her, frankly he’d been afraid to watch her face too closely, afraid he might see something that would compel him to tell her what she wanted to hear to take her to bed. Now he had a sinking feeling that in his clumsy attempt to be a gentleman, he’d unintentionally neglected her.

  They took the stairs back to the mezzanine where the three stores were located. He called upon his discipline training to keep from staring at her skirt as she ascended one step in front of him, but he simply couldn’t resist the urge to devour her sway. Swish, swish, back and forth. His body hardened to the innocent rhythm, and he had to remind himself they were in a public place.

  But it was a public place designed to pique the senses, he noted dryly as they walked past the perfume shop and inhaled some kind of citrusy scent that made him think of Faith and eating at the same time—a dangerous combination. On the other side of the jewelry store was a lingerie shop full of all kinds of temptations for a single man. While in there, he’d focused all his attention on the cash drop box to overlook the racks of sparkly, sheer, minuscule creations, and how they would look on tall, leggy Faith Sherman.

  When they entered The Diamond Mine, he experienced a totally immature stab of disappointment that he would once again have to share her company. The disappointment was quickly followed by irritation when she handed the extra cup of coffee not to her young female employee, but to Sills—the guy who wanted him unarmed and emasculated, the guy who, instead of analyzing potential breaches in security, spent most of his time analyzing Faith’s cleavage. The guy who was flirting with her right now.

  Carter strode over, determined to think of a good excuse to interrupt. When he stopped in front of them, she was on the verge of sopping up a circle of coffee on the front of Sills’s jacket.

  “Faith,” he said abruptly.

  “Yes?”

  “If you don’t want me to wear my firearm, we should put it in the vault.”

  She handed the napkin to Sills with an innocent smile, but the smile had disappeared by the time she turned and nodded. “Good idea. Follow me, Carter.”

  He narrowed his eyes at Sills, who frowned back, then trailed her and her swishy skirt to the short hallway that housed the vault. From her jacket pocket she removed a ring of keys and used two to unlock the outer door. The vault door itself had a keypad into which she punched a long series of numbers. When a tiny green light came on, she swung the door open and stepped inside.

  Carter followed and was immediately assailed by the realization that being with Faith in a small space could become habit forming. The vault itself was moderately sized, about twelve feet square, but the walls were lined with deep metal shelves to hold the trays of jewelry removed from the display cases at night, leaving a pathway of about five feet down the center of the vault for maneuverability. Faith walked to a tall, black file cabinet—one of four—and used a key to open one of the drawers. “I think your gun will be safe in here.”

  Funny, but he wasn’t feeling too safe in here. When she looked up at him, he was struck anew by the sheer openness of her expression—her bright eyes, dark eyebrows, clear skin, wide mouth. Hers was a morning face, glowing with the kind of fresh, natural beauty that a man wouldn’t mind waking up to. Knowing he’d never see her in that sleep-tousled state made his gut clench. With a start, he realized that everything about Faith was understated—her gloriously simple straight hair, her elegant clothes, her scant jewelry.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked, wide-eyed and irresistible.

  He removed his weapon from its holster and settled it into the drawer. “I was just thinking it was interesting that you work around fancy jewels all the time, but you don’t wear any.”

  Her gaze immediately dropped to her bare hands, and a little laugh escaped her. “I prefer jewelry that has sentimental value.” She pulled back her left sleeve. “This watch was my mother’s.” She touched the pearl drops in her ears. “And my father gave me these when I graduated from college.”

  As if his hand had a mind of its own, it raised and fingered the silver initial pin on her lapel. “And this? You wear it every day, so the person who gave it to you must be special.”

  She swallowed. “He is.”

  Carter’s heart quickened. “‘He’?”

  “My brother, Dev.”

  “Oh.” Relief flooded him, and he dropped his hand reluctantly.

  Faith studied her clasped hands, then looked up with a tentative expression in her eyes. “Carter, I’ve been waiting for the right time to bring this up, and I guess now is as good a time as any.”

  At the heightened color in her cheeks, hope bled into his chest. She was sorry for the way she had ended things between them.

  “I’m sorry for the way I ended things between us.”

  In hindsight, she had misjudged him.

  “In hindsight, I made a rather hasty judgment.”

  And she’d like to make it up to him.

  “And I’d like to make it up to you, Carter.”

  She wanted to pick up where they’d left off, hours shy of making love.

  His lips parted and his muscles poised to drag her to him for a long kiss. Blood raced to his belly in anticipation of her yielding
curves being pressed against him.

  A sudden smile lifted the corners of her red mouth, revealing a high dimple. “That’s why I thought I’d let you know that not only do you qualify for a hefty employee discount at The Diamond Mine, but I will personally help you select an engagement ring for Trudy.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Wednesday afternoon, February 5, 2003

  “WHEN SHOPPING for a diamond,” Faith recited for her apprehensive-looking client, Carter, “remember the four Cs. Cut, clarity, color and carat.” This wasn’t the first time she had helped an angst-ridden man pick out an engagement ring, but it was the first time that the undertaking had filled her with angst. But she’d had to do something when they were in the vault the other day—having Carter around was wreaking havoc on her senses. Her brain simply hadn’t accepted that he was unavailable, so what better way to drive the point home than to participate in his upcoming engagement?

  As painful as it might be.

  They were alone in the showroom. The Valentino diamond was locked away in the vault after another hard day of bringing in an amazing number of lookers, most of them women whom she and Stacy had persuaded to fill out a “wish list.” Tonight the data processors would enter the information into the database and generate “hint” postcards to the designated gift-givers on the person’s list. If the first three days were indicative of the kind of traffic they could expect over the next two weeks, The Diamond Mine would likely bring in some major revenue.

  At least her business would benefit from Valentine’s Day this year, even if her heart wouldn’t.

  From the vault she had set aside one small tray of exquisite engagement rings, most of them solitaire settings. Carter stood with mouth pursed, inspecting the dazzling display with a deer-in-the-headlight expression. His hands were sunk deep into his pockets, as if he were afraid to touch them. “By cut, you mean the shape?”