Liam’s stomach churned. He didn’t want to believe that his friend had a valid point. “Isn’t that jumping to conclusions?”
Gary shook his head. “There’s more. I decided to prep the vehicle since I’m waiting on parts. I found a small area of rust around one door hinge, so I removed the door. The inside panel seemed loose. I was going to fix it, when I found...”
He paused as the waitress refreshed their drinks.
Liam’s neck was tight. “What, damn it? What did you find?”
“Money.” Gary grimaced. “Lots of money. Cash. Bills.”
“How much?” God in heaven.
“I don’t know. I didn’t touch it. Didn’t want my fingerprints to show up anywhere. But I’d say at least forty or fifty thousand given the denominations and the size of the stacks.” He paused, his expression torn. “Do you think I should call the police?”
Liam ran a hand over his face, his brain assessing and discarding a dozen possible explanations. “No. We have no proof that it’s not hers.” Hope curdled in his stomach and died. He’d tried so hard to tell himself that Zoe was trustworthy, and now this.
“Who carries that much cash hidden in a vehicle?”
“I don’t know,” Liam said grimly. “But I plan to find out.”
* * *
Zoe strummed a chord as Dylan tuned his guitar. His instrument was beautiful. Highly polished wood inlaid with silver in random designs. “Did you have that made?” she asked.
He nodded, still fooling with one of his strings. “Yeah.”
“Does the silver design have some special significance?”
“It reminds me that I’m a Kavanagh for good or for ill. Once upon a time our ancestors operated a silver mine in these mountains, hence the name of the town. We have a few large remnants, good-size nuggets, but the mine was lost years ago. Our father disappeared while looking for it when Liam was in high school. Not only did Dad never find the mine, he never returned.”
“That’s dreadful.” Zoe could hardly imagine a tragedy of that magnitude, though her own family life hadn’t been a picnic.
“A dark time in the Kavanagh clan, for sure. As the eldest, Liam bore the brunt of helping Mom cope. He was always mature for his age, but he had to grow up overnight.”
“How did she manage when he was away at university?”
“We hired an assistant manager. Mom was in charge, but there was someone to help with the big decisions. And Liam would come home from school if he was needed.”
“So he never got to go backpacking through Europe or take a graduation trip or anything like that?”
“No. And by the time our collective grief eased and things were finally on an even keel, both personally and professionally, Mom had come to depend on Liam. In case you hadn’t noticed, my brother is the kind of man people turn to for support. In one way or another, he’s been the cornerstone of our family for twenty years now.”
“How old were you when it happened?”
“Fourteen. I’m the next in line. But there’s a lot of difference between fourteen and sixteen. I was going through a rebellious phase, and Dad’s death only made things worse.”
Zoe fell silent, digesting the implications of what Dylan had shared. No wonder Liam had such a serious side. He hadn’t had the luxury of being a goofy adolescent. Her admiration for him grew, along with the conviction that she was not the woman to get involved with him. If he knew the extent of her problems, she would become one more millstone of responsibility hanging around his neck.
Dylan finished tuning. “You feel okay with what we’ve sketched out?” he asked with a smile.
“Yes. I hope I don’t disappoint you.” It still amazed her that his sexy masculinity didn’t affect her libido the way Liam’s did. Some woman would be lucky enough to fall for Dylan Kavanagh one day in the future. But apparently Zoe had already cast her lot with the straight-laced older brother.
Dylan straightened his guitar strap around his neck, resting his arm on the instrument. “Now that I’ve heard your voice, I’m wondering how I can convince you to be a regular.”
“That’s very kind of you. But I won’t be hanging around more than a few weeks.”
“Why not?”
His simple question caught her off guard. Why not, indeed? Her gypsy lifestyle was her own choice. No one was making her crisscross the country and live out of a single suitcase. Only her cowardice and fear pushed her onward. “I suppose I’ve never liked being tied down.”
Her answer didn’t satisfy him. His unspoken empathy made her squirm. “Nobody can run forever,” he said. “Trust me. I know.”
“Who says I’m running?”
“Aren’t you?” In his steady gaze she saw a kindred spirit.
Her throat tightened unexpectedly, leaving her to blink back emotion. “I’m not sure I would know how to put down roots after all this time. I don’t make friends very easily.”
“And yet you’re around people all the time when you’re playing and singing.”
“That’s different. I can blend into the background.”
“I think you’re kidding yourself.” His measured look was not insulting, but her cheeks heated. She glanced at her watch. “Is it time?”
He nodded. “You feelin’ butterflies?”
“A million of them,” she confessed.
Dylan stood and patted her shoulder. “I know my regulars. They’re going to love you. Come on, Ms. Zoe Chamberlain. Let’s go make some music.”
She stood as well and wiped her damp palms on the legs of her jeans. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
Eight
The stage at the Silver Dollar was tiny, but Liam’s brother had invested in a top-notch sound system and professional lighting. The house lights had already been lowered, so when Zoe stepped out onto the stage, a few steps ahead of Dylan, the audience made an audible sound of appreciation.
Even though Liam knew what she looked like tonight, he caught his breath along with the rest. She was radiant. Her smile, intimate and happy, encompassed the crowd, telling them that they were part of her inner circle and that she would be singing just for them.
Two stools sat side by side on the stage. Though Dylan sat down beside Zoe, Liam scarcely gave his brother a glance. It was safe to say that all the men in the room reacted similarly.
Zoe perched comfortably, her hair swinging softly around flushed cheeks. Her eyes sparkled, and her slender body practically vibrated with excitement. She wrapped her ankles around the rungs of the stool. In that one movement, Liam flashed back to sitting with her in his kitchen.
Dylan leaned toward his mike. “Welcome, regulars and first-time visitors to the Silver Dollar Saloon. Glad you’re all here. We have a treat in store tonight. My friend, Zoe, is going to sing and play with me. She’s just passing through Silver Glen, but I was able to persuade her to entertain us this evening. Please give it up for Zoe’s first performance at the Silver Dollar.”
After the raucous whoops and hollers quieted, Dylan began to pick out a melody, and Zoe joined in. In no more than a few seconds, the room fell silent, all rustling and coughing and other noises obliterated.
Liam had heard his brother sing and play a million times. Dylan was talented, and touched his guitar like he would a woman, with tenderness and reverence. He had the Irish gift of storytelling in song.
But with Zoe on stage as well, Dylan became the background to her luminance. They started out with the poignant lyrics to an old sixties tune about difficult goodbyes. With a jolt of distress, Liam saw Zoe standing at his bedroom door, her bags packed, not wanting to wake him up to say goodbye. The image was so vivid, for a moment he couldn’t breathe.
The first time he met her, she had struck him as the reincarnation of a sixties love child, guitar in hand. Now, singing words that had resonated for decades, he felt as if all the grief of parting washed over him, though she hadn’t even thought about leaving yet.
And somehow, Liam’s father swam into th
e mix. Reggie Kavanagh had left, never to return. If Liam hadn’t been sitting so far from the door, he might have cut and run. He wanted to howl with the knowledge that he was halfway in love with Zoe already and already bracing for the pain of a broken heart.
Fortunately for him, after one or two more ballads about being sad and lonely, Dylan launched into a crowd pleaser, and soon everyone was clapping hands and singing along. Several modern country songs followed.
Liam wasn’t sure how long Dylan and Zoe played. No one left the bar. Waitresses worked the crowd, pausing now and again to watch and listen. The upward curve of Dylan’s lips told Liam his brother was in his element. But it was the sheer joy on Zoe’s face that kept the crowd in their seats. She sang from the heart, as if every emotion she had ever experienced could be communicated in song.
At last, Dylan announced the last number. “Zoe’s going to sing and play for us an original composition. We’re pleased you were here tonight, and we hope you’ll return. Good night and God bless.”
The spotlight trained on Dylan’s stool went out. He was still there to play, but all attention focused on Zoe. At this moment, she no longer seemed aware of the audience. With her head bent over her instrument, she strummed the opening bars of a haunting tune. When she opened her mouth to sing, she captured each listener in the palm of her hand.
With a voice that was husky and pure, she sang of love and loss and the universal pain of a broken heart....
“I never meant to hurt you...loving is a fearful game...
Few can win and most go home
Facing winters of the same...
“I thought we might be different...or at least we’d have a chance...
But life is not a promise
And I scarcely know the dance.
“Don’t grieve long for might-have-beens...remember me with wonder
Like new roses crushed by rain
Our future’s torn asunder...
“Goodbye, my love, so perfect...please forgive my gift of pain...
If I could stay, I would have
Always will my love remain....”
The final note of the final verse lingered on a hushed silence. Liam heard sniffles and saw women wiping their eyes.
Though he knew, intellectually, that Zoe was blinded by the spotlight shining in her eyes, it seemed to him as if she looked straight at him, sending him a message. Don’t care about me. Don’t fall for me.
What she didn’t know was that it was too late. He wanted her with a desperate urgency that left no room to contemplate any ending other than a happy one. If Zoe was in trouble, he would help her. Even if she turned out to be a thief. He had to believe there were reasons for whatever she had done to get that money. He would stand by her. And when the danger had passed, he would bind her to him and shred the music to that dreadful song.
He might be making a mistake. In fact, he was probably making a mistake. But he was ready to suffer the consequences. He was prepared to do almost anything as long as it meant he could have Zoe.
While his emotions swirled from pride in her talent to frustration at her secrecy, the crowd rose as one to its feet, clapping and whistling and demanding an encore. At Dylan’s signal, the house lights came back up and Dylan and Zoe launched into a rowdy, energetic rendition of an old Billy Ray Cyrus tune.
Afterward, Dylan gave Zoe a hug and insisted she take a bow. Her face was flushed and damp, and for the first time, she looked tired. Suddenly, Liam remembered that she had been ill. Working his way to the front of the stage, he handed her a bottle of water.
“Drink something,” he said quietly. “You may have overdone it tonight.”
When she had emptied the bottle, he held up his arms and lifted her down from the stage onto the plank flooring.
“Thank you,” she said, not meeting his eyes.
When Zoe would have moved away, he stopped her by the mere expedient of keeping his arms looped around her waist. “Take a breath, sunshine. You were a big hit.”
She rested her head on his shoulder. “Great audience.”
He heard fatigue in her voice alongside the satisfaction of a job well done. “You ready to go home?” The words slipped out before he had a chance to censor them. The Silver Beeches was his home, not Zoe’s.
She didn’t call him out on his faux pas. “More than ready. But it was a great night.”
Dylan walked them out to the car. “You were a hit, Zoe. I hope you’ll plan to do this again. But I only accept a freebie once. I’d have to pay you from now on.”
“You couldn’t afford me,” she said, laughing. Liam couldn’t see the mischief in her eyes, because it was dark now. The only illumination came from the multicolored lights strung along the roofline of the Silver Dollar.
Liam helped Zoe into the car and turned to his brother, lowering his voice. “Call me in the morning. I need your advice about something.”
Dylan snickered. “I say go for it.”
Liam slugged his arm and slid into the driver’s seat. “Good night, Dylan.”
Zoe leaned across his lap to add her goodbyes. Her breasts brushed his chest, and her hair tickled his chin. “Thanks for letting me sing.”
Dylan leaned on the window. “My pleasure. You kids get on home now. It’s late.”
“You’re so full of it.” Liam hit the up button on the window, causing his smart-ass brother to jump back with a curse.
Zoe giggled, straightening and returning to her own seat as Liam exited the parking lot with a flurry of gravel. “That was mean. But funny.”
“My brother is a merciless tease. Be glad he likes you.”
“He likes everybody, it seems. The bar was packed tonight. And I think he knew everyone there.”
“That’s Dylan.”
Conversation lagged abruptly. Liam drove with an occasional surreptitious glance at the slightly rumpled and definitely weary angel occupying the passenger seat of his car. Near the top of the mountain there was a pull-off where the teenagers liked to park and make out. The idea had definite appeal. But what he wanted to do with and to Zoe required far more privacy.
He still hadn’t decided what to do about Gary’s latest revelation. There could be a hundred reasons why Zoe was hiding large amounts of cash in the panel door of her van. Unfortunately, a lot of them were worrisome.
Back at the hotel, Liam handed his keys to the valet and helped Zoe out of the car. It occurred to him that they could take a walk as they had the night before. But she had expended a lot of energy onstage, and she probably intended to have an early night.
He wanted to talk to her, to convince her they belonged together, even if for only this moment in time. And if she agreed to make love to him, he had to seek answers that would make him feel better about having her in his hotel and in his bed. Every time he had tried before, she shut him out. Bracing himself for the disappointment of a quick good-night as a prelude to her disappearance, he walked beside her into the lobby, carrying her guitar case.
Making an excuse to go to his office would save him the awkwardness of riding up on the elevator with her, but he couldn’t bring himself to walk away. On the top floor, the door opened, and they both stepped into the quiet hallway.
Zoe held out her hand for the instrument. “Thanks for going with me tonight.”
To hell with this. He set the case on the floor and reached for her. “You mesmerized me with your singing. One kiss. That’s all I need.”
It was a lie. He knew it and she knew it. What he wanted would take all night. Given their semi-public location, he held her loosely, not wanting to embarrass her if another guest decided to walk by. He slid both hands beneath her hair, inhaling her scent as he bent his head and found her mouth. “You were amazing,” he muttered, moving his lips over hers with light, teasing motions.
Zoe went up on tiptoe, her arms twined around his neck as she kissed him back. “That’s sweet of you to say.”
“I’m not a sweet man.” He caught her tongue between hi
s teeth and nipped it to prove his point. Zoe’s soft moan hit him hard, stealing the breath from his lungs and weakening his knees, even as another part of him went hard as stone. He shook with the need to take her up against the wall.
“Come to my room,” she whispered.
He froze, sensing some kind of test, or perhaps a trap. “I can’t,” he said hoarsely. “Not now. Not tonight. I’m past talking.” He cupped her butt in those body-hugging jeans and squeezed it. “If I get you alone, there’s only one thing that’s going to happen. Fair warning.”
She tilted her head to look up at him, her guileless blue eyes impossible to read. “I don’t have a problem with that, Mr. Kavanagh.”
The time for rational thought was long past. He had been imagining this moment since the first instant she stepped through the door of his hotel. What did it matter if her presence was only temporary? Why did he care if she was frustrating and secretive and slept in her van and had loads of hidden cash and people looking for her?
He wanted her. He needed her. And by God, he was going to have her.
Taking her by the hand, he grabbed the guitar case and strode down the hall, dragging Zoe in his wake. It took her several seconds to rummage in a small bag for her key. He didn’t bother to tell her he had a master key that gained him access to every room in the hotel. This way was better.
Inside her room, he set her instrument in front of the closet and leaned against the door, doing his best not to pounce on her. Her red blouse was rumpled, her hair mussed. “I suppose you want a shower,” he said, trying to be the gentleman his mother had taught him to be.
Zoe grimaced. “I need one. But there’s room for two.”
His vision hazed. Hands trembling, he stared at her. “You have to be sure, Zoe. No backing out at the last minute. It’s okay to say no, but I want to hear it now.”
A Not-So-Innocent Seduction Page 8