“Ha! That’ll be the day.”
“What will?”
“The day I admit you’re right,” Delia said.
“Very funny.”
“I thought so.” She gave him a half smile as a reward for his clever banter. “You know, I always did enjoy the games you and I used to play, Shaun. That’s one of the things I’ve missed the most.”
His head snapped around. “I beg your pardon?”
Blinking, she realized belatedly that he had taken her innocent comment the wrong way. “Word games, Murphy. Word games. What did you think I meant?”
“Never mind.”
The intensity of his gaze warmed her face like the Hawaiian sun. She laughed nervously. “Maybe we should talk about this.”
“About what?”
“Us. You and me?”
“What’s to talk about?”
“My point, exactly,” Delia said. “I know we’ve kind of fallen back into our comfort zone with each other, but we need to remember that we’re not the same people we used to be. We’re not young, we’re not foolish and we’re definitely not married.”
He huffed. “I’ll agree to two out of three. We’re not young and we’re not married. As for being foolish, I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling pretty dumb for agreeing to come with you.”
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I know you felt pressured to do it and you don’t want to be here, but…”
“Whoa. Hold on.” Shaun eyed her surreptitiously. “Where’d you get that idea? I never said that.”
“Yes, you did.”
“When?”
Delia spread her hands wide in front of her, palms up. “I don’t remember exactly. After we left Genie’s you said something about being too shocked to turn down my father’s offer of this so-called job.”
“That didn’t mean I wouldn’t have come with you if you’d been the one to ask.”
“It didn’t?”
“Of course not.”
“Oh.” Her mind was spinning while her heart thumped so loudly she was certain Shaun must be able to hear it over the engine noise. “Well, in that case, thanks again.”
“You’re welcome. Again.” He smiled over at her. “What’s plan B? Are we going to alternate driving and sleeping and keep going like we have been? Or are you going to use Daddy’s credit card and buy us a couple of swank rooms?”
“I’d love to keep driving,” Delia said,” but I know how tired I am and you must be running out of energy, too. I think the safest thing to do is to stop and rest.”
“You’re the boss, as I believe I’ve said before.”
“You said it but you didn’t mean it.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because, when we caught Evans ransacking my aunt’s apartment you pushed me behind you and insisted on taking charge.” She could tell by the consternation in his expression that she was right. “Well? Didn’t you?”
Shaun shrugged. “Okay. So maybe I was a little heavy-handed.”
“A little? You ordered me to stay in the car!”
“And you did exactly the opposite.”
“Of course I did. You should know by now that I have a mind of my own.”
“Then use it,” he countered, sobering. “The next time there’s a clear danger, step back and let me handle things.”
“Is that an order?”
He shook his head. “No. It’s a suggestion from somebody who doesn’t want to see you get hurt.”
“In that case,” Delia said, secretly touched, “I’ll consider it.”
SEVEN
Shaun wondered if he’d been too blunt. Probably. That kind of honesty was a failing of his. Then again, he could have done worse. He could have told her how beautiful he thought she was, or how impressed he’d been by her bravery while under attack. Or he could have tried to explain how deeply he wished they had managed to thwart her father and stay married. Of all the things he’d refrained from saying, that was the hardest one to accept.
He knew Delia didn’t really want to revisit their failed marriage, however brief it had been. If she’d wanted to, she’d certainly have explored the subject in depth before this. The woman loved to talk. And he loved to hear her voice, to share the wordplay she was so good at. Being with her was actually fun. She made him smile whenever he managed to tear his mind away from their unhappy past. And she was resilient. In spite of everything she’d already been through she could still make jokes to lift both their moods. Delia Blanchard was an extraordinary woman. He just wished he was still calling her Delia Murphy.
And speaking of last names…Delia had chosen a hotel where the valet parking attendants dressed better than he did. When she had registered in the sumptuous, Persian-carpeted lobby and paid with her father’s credit card, the desk clerk behind the polished marble counter had assumed too much and had politely addressed Shaun as Mr. Blanchard!
It didn’t help that Delia had found the whole exchange terribly amusing.
They had little luggage so Shaun had carried his small duffel and her overnight bag up to their rooms rather than let one of the bellmen handle them.
He paused in the hallway in front of a set of side-by-side doors while she tested the keycard. He could hear her laughing softly.
“Well, this one works, Mr. Blanchard,” she taunted, turning to him with a wide grin as soon as she’d opened the door. “I almost died when he called you that. Your face turned so red I was afraid you were about to blow your stack.”
“You didn’t correct him.”
“I figured it was best to leave well enough alone and not complicate matters, especially since we were using someone else’s credit card.”
“When you’re right, you’re right.” Shaun followed her into the hotel room and put her overnight bag on the settee. The place was so perfectly decorated, so lavishly furnished, it reminded him of her family’s estate in Stoneley. No wonder she’d chosen to stop at an establishment like this. And no wonder he felt so decidedly out of place.
“You take this room,” Shaun said. “I’ll bunk next door.”
“They’re supposed to be exactly the same so it really doesn’t matter,” Delia said, handing him one of the keycards. “If you decide to order room service, don’t pay for it, charge it to the room so I can settle up in the morning.”
“Right.” So much for sharing a nice, private meal and some in-depth conversation. Oh, well. He edged toward the door. “Good night, then.”
“Good night, Shaun.”
To his chagrin, she had held back and let him shut the door himself rather than come closer. It couldn’t be because she was afraid of him, he reasoned. If anything, she was too casual, too familiar. As she’d mentioned earlier, they had fallen back into some of their old habits of comfortable camaraderie.
Yeah, like the time he had taken her hand to lead her away from her aunt’s condo and she’d let him. Or the times when she’d stepped into his arms as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Shaun’s breathing grew ragged. He had to stop thinking about Delia and himself as a couple or the tension of being together was going to kill him.
Stepping up to his hotel room door, he slid the keycard into the slot and waited for the green light to signal that it had worked. Nothing happened. He withdrew the card and tried again, this time removing it as he’d seen Delia do.
Still nothing. He tried and failed repeatedly, then snorted in self-derision. Terrific. Here he was, in a place that was so fancy-schmancy it made his skin crawl, and it looked as though he was going to have to ask for help getting his stupid room unlocked. Well, Mr. Blanchard was not going back down to the lobby to see if they’d given him a bad card until he’d exhausted all other options. He’d rather look foolish to Delia than to the stuffed shirt who had checked them in.
Stifling his pride, Shaun knocked on her door. “Delia? It’s me.”
She opened the door against its protective chain and peered out. “Shaun? What’s wrong?”
<
br /> “My key won’t work.”
“It should have. I…” She eased the door closed enough to release the chain, then swung it wide. “Oops. I think I gave you the one I used.”
“You gave me the key to your room?”
“Not on purpose,” she insisted. “Hold on a sec. I’ll check.”
When she turned to face him and held up another card, still in its envelope, Shaun was delighted to see the rosy blush warming her cheeks. He stepped closer than he needed to and accepted it. “You gave me the key to your room.”
“I told you. It was an accident.”
“Freud would have a field day with that kind of accident,” he said softly.
“Well, the man is long dead so I don’t think he’ll have much to say about it.”
“Maybe not, but I do.”
“Shaun…don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what? I just came to get the right key.”
“Then why are you still standing there?”
“Because I want to kiss you. I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since that morning you ran off the road and landed in the bushes.”
“You have?”
Shaun heard surprise in her tone but not rejection. “Yes. I have.”
“It’s probably not a good idea,” Delia said, sounding a bit breathless.
“It’s probably a terrible idea.” To his delight, she hadn’t retreated. He set his duffel bag on the floor at his side and opened his arms.
“I wish you hadn’t asked me,” Delia whispered, coming closer.
“Why not?”
“Because, this way, I have to actually decide instead of just…”
“Stop talking and come here,” Shaun said tenderly.
One more step and she was in his arms. Enfolding her in a light embrace, he felt as unsure and shaky as a teenager on a blind date. Delia wasn’t the first woman he’d ever kissed, nor had she been the last. She was simply the most important. She always had been.
Delia knew she was crazy to respond to Shaun’s request for a kiss but she was so tired of fighting her feelings for him. Truth be told, she wanted that kiss more than anything.
Logic kept insisting that it probably wasn’t going to be nearly as wonderful as she had imagined. Why, it might even help her get him out of her system once and for all. Memories of lost loves were always better than reality had been and she was certain that she had remembered Shaun’s kisses as much more breathtaking than they really were.
She closed her eyes and tilted her face up to him. His breath was warm and sweet on her skin. Her lashes fluttered. Her heart sped. What was taking him so long? In the past, he’d always been quick to act. Now, he seemed to be operating in slow motion.
Delia’s hands had been pressed flat to his chest. She pushed them up and threaded her fingers into Shaun’s thick hair, relishing the opportunity to touch the man who had, for a short, lovely time, belonged to her. And she, to him.
When she heard Shaun moan and felt him tighten his hold she realized she’d made a tactical error. He hadn’t been hesitant to kiss her, he’d been struggling to control himself.
Something inside Delia flared like a campfire on a starlit beach. It was as if her whole being had been waiting twelve long years for Shaun’s kiss. And what a kiss it was!
He didn’t crush her lips awkwardly, the way he used to when she was seventeen. Instead, his mouth barely grazed hers, exploring, claiming, then finally settling as though it knew exactly where it belonged. A more perfect, heartwarming, inspiring kiss would have been impossible.
Delia was afraid to breathe, to move a muscle, for fear she’d destroy the tenuous mood. If she had honestly believed that this kiss would prove that her memories of Shaun had been inflated, she’d been seriously deluded.
Denying that the man was making an impression that would follow her every day of her life was futile. However, she knew she wasn’t ready to take their relationship any further. Nor was she the kind of person who would lead a man on only to end up pushing him away because she knew that going too far and becoming intimate was wrong, outside of marriage.
There was only one rational way to deal with the situation. Somehow, she’d have to convince Shaun that she wasn’t deeply affected by his amazing kiss. That would give them both an easy out and perhaps preserve their developing friendship. It wasn’t a foolproof notion but it was the best she could come up with when her senses were on overload and her moral compass hardly knew up from down.
Pushing him away slightly, she leaned back, opened her eyes and smiled. “Whew! I see you’ve been practicing.”
He looked flustered. “What?”
“Your kissing. I don’t know who your teacher was but she gets my vote.” To Delia’s regret, his expression hardened and the tender eagerness went out of his eyes.
“Thanks,” he said. “I’ll tell her you approve.”
“Is it somebody I know?” she asked, when she really wanted to say, Whoever she is, I hate her.
Shaun shrugged noncommittally. “I’ve traveled the world in the past twelve years, Delia. I guess I’ve picked up a few things along the way.”
“I guess you have. Well, see you in the morning.” The way he was hesitating made Delia wonder if he was going to argue or try to kiss her again. To her disappointment, he did neither.
Instead, he held out his hand. “Here’s your key. If you’ll wait just a second while I go try the other one, I won’t bother you anymore.”
“Hey, no bother,” she said lightly, hoping she could hold back the telltale moisture pooling behind her lashes until she was alone.
She watched him pick up his duffel and followed him to the door. “I’ll stand right here and watch till you’re in.”
Shaun jammed the keycard into the lock on his door, jerked it open and disappeared inside without another word.
Backing into her own room, Delia closed the door and leaned against it. She couldn’t decide who she was more furious with—herself, or the maddening man who had just kissed his way back into her already turbulent life. Was it possible that they were being given a second chance at love after all this time?
She swiped at a stray tear. A second chance? Them? Who was she kidding? She and Shaun had no prospects of happiness together. He was an avowed drifter who was only accompanying her because he was protecting his father’s business interests, no matter what he claimed. If he did stay in Stoneley to help Ian it wouldn’t matter because she lived half a world away.
Besides, she reasoned, pausing to blow her nose and hoping Shaun couldn’t hear her through their common wall, she’d promised herself she’d never get involved with a man whose beliefs didn’t echo hers. To listen to Shaun lately, a person would think he didn’t believe in God at all, let alone still practice the faith they had once shared.
“We’re totally wrong for each other. So why am I crying?
“Because I love him anyway,” she answered with disgust. “I don’t want to, I didn’t mean to, and I know it’s crazy, but I love him.”
Still sniffling, she rummaged through her overnight bag till she found her stash of candy bars. Tomorrow, she’d have to stop and stock up on more chocolate. The little she’d brought with her was going to be both her dinner and her solace. If she couldn’t have real love, she’d settle for the chemicals in the candy that mimicked it.
“That’s what they should have eaten in the Garden of Eden,” she said, a little surprised at the convoluted turn of thought. “An apple is not nearly the temptation that a chocolate bar is.”
And no candy can compare to the temptation brooding in the next room, she added silently.
Like it or not, the rest of her trip with Shaun was going to be a lot more difficult than it had been so far. The kindest thing she could do, for both their sakes, was to keep her distance. She just wasn’t sure she could continue the pretense of not caring about him without coming seriously unglued.
The best thing that she could do, in her opinion, was to keep an em
otional distance between them. Shaun had left her in a huff. If she was lucky, he’d stay angry and she’d be able to muster enough gruffness to mirror his mood and carry them both through the coming days.
She peeled back the wrapper on the first candy bar and plunked down on the edge of her king-size bed to drown her sorrows in chocolates. Good thing she was active and had a rapid metabolism so she could get away with eating like this once in a while and not get too momona, too fat. Nobody’d trust a chubby surfing instructor.
“No, but I’d probably float better,” she said cynically. “Yeah, and look like a beached whale in my bathing suit!”
That was not the professional image she sought to project but right now she figured she needed the chocolate’s uplift more than she needed to avoid a few more ounces. Never mind that the Bible listed the drunkard and the glutton as equal sinners in Proverbs! She had to eat something and the candy was handy.
Two and a half candy bars later, Delia heard a knock. She ignored it until it was repeated. Padding to the door on bare feet she peered out the peephole. Her jaw dropped.
“Room service,” Shaun said.
“I didn’t order any food.”
“I figured you wouldn’t. You never did eat right when you were upset.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You have to keep your strength up.”
“I ate.”
“What?”
“Candy.”
“That’s not food,” Shaun insisted. “Come on. Open the door. This pizza’s getting cold.”
“You eat it.”
“I fully intend to. With you. Now, are you going to open the door or do I have to make a scene out here?”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, really?”
She strained to see his face through the tiny peephole. She knew that look. He wasn’t exactly grinning but he wasn’t grumpy anymore, either. And he was definitely determined to get her to eat, one way or another.
Resigned to her fate, Delia unhooked the safety chain and opened the door. Before she could argue further, Shaun sidled past her, crossed the room and placed a pizza box on the round table by the window.
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