by Kara Lennox
Griffin couldn’t imagine how much that would cost, but it was probably pocket change for Daniel.
“That’s thoughtful of you, Daniel,” Raleigh said. “But it’s certainly not your fault. Someone had to work pretty hard to get to me. The police said the bullets came from the building across the street, one of the upper stories—not from the street.”
“Yes, I’ve already talked to Lieutenant Comstock.”
Of course he had. This guy appeared to have access to everybody.
“Griffin. It’s wonderful to meet you in person.” He shook Griffin’s hand with a firm grip, looking him straight in the eye in a way that made Griffin feel oddly special. Daniel had charisma oozing from his pores. “I want to personally thank you for seeing to Raleigh’s safety. You saved her life.”
“It was a wild bullet,” Griffin said, knowing that it was pure chance that he got hit instead of Raleigh. “This…this stalker is pretty desperate.”
“We’ll find out who it is. The police are taking the case very seriously. Have you told them about the other matters? The rogue deposit and the falsified phone bill? The threatening phone call?”
“I told them everything,” Raleigh said. “As much as I could remember. I was pretty rattled.”
“Understandably. We’ll see what they do with the information. Part of me is relieved they’re on the case. Another part of me wishes the police would just stay out of it.” He cast a worried glance at Griffin. “I understand this cramps your, um, journalistic endeavors.”
The man understood more than Griffin would have guessed. “We have to put Raleigh’s safety first,” Griffin said. He was in a quandary about what to write, and when. He felt his loyalties had gone into a blender.
“Where are my manners? Please, sit down and let me pour you a glass of wine. Or maybe you’d prefer beer? I have some excellent examples from various Texas microbreweries.”
Griffin would have been happy with a plain ol’ Bud right about now. “I would love a beer. You can pick something for me.”
“That merlot you were uncorking looks fabulous,” Raleigh said as she sank onto a buff-colored leather sofa.
“Jillian? Will you stay and have dinner with us?”
“Thank you, Daniel. But if you don’t need me, I believe I’ll retire early.”
“I’ll have a plate sent to your quarters, then.”
Jillian smiled. “That’s thoughtful, thank you. Good night.” She addressed Griffin and Raleigh. “If you need anything, there’s a phone in every room with a Jillian button.”
Griffin was sure he recognized a spark of yearning in her gray eyes whenever Jillian looked at her boss. It would take a strong woman not to fall for a good-looking, rich and seemingly generous and concerned guy like Daniel, especially if she lived and worked with him on a constant basis.
“She’s good,” Raleigh said. “You need to give that girl a raise.”
Daniel smiled. “She’s a gem, all right. Well paid, trust me.”
Griffin saw no answering spark in Daniel. He spoke of Jillian with fondness, nothing more. Poor Jillian.
And why did Griffin even care? He fumed again over the fact that he couldn’t write about any of it. He’d never felt so frustrated in his life.
A server brought in a tray of appetizers—Brie cheese, crackers and tart apple slices. How many employees did this guy support single-handedly? Griffin saw only the tip of the iceberg, he was sure.
A few minutes later, the server, Manuel, announced that dinner was ready. They all filed into a formal dining room and sat at a round table graced with fine linens, crystal and sterling silver flatware.
Is this how Daniel ate dinner every night? As if in a four-star restaurant?
The dinner was certainly one of the best Griffin had ever eaten, including a selection of grilled meats, a baked artichoke-heart casserole, tender asparagus, some kind of whole-grain rolls that melted in his mouth.
Fresh fruit and rich vanilla ice cream for dessert.
All of it was accompanied by free-flowing wine, beer and port with dark chocolate to top everything off. Egads.
Daniel was a skilled conversationalist, steering the discussion away from the evening’s disturbing events, drawing each of them out in turn, adding an amusing anecdote of his own when appropriate.
He apparently hadn’t always been a recluse. Before his incarceration, it sounded as though he’d led a normal, if privileged, life. He’d gone to Princeton, pledged a fraternity, played sports.
“I’m sure you both must be tired,” Daniel finally said as Manuel began clearing the table. “Since I let Jillian go for the night, I’ll show you to your rooms. There’s a media room in your wing with all kinds of amusements if you’d like to stay up awhile. There’s a kitchenette with snacks, too. I hope you’ll make yourselves at home. Both of you can stay here as long as necessary.”
“I have work to do,” Raleigh objected. “I have to be at the office early tomorrow.”
“Nonsense. You’re taking a vacation, Raleigh, starting now. You haven’t had any time off in years. Garrett can make court appearances and file papers for you.”
“Garrett? He’s barely out of law school.”
“Smart and extremely capable, or I wouldn’t have hired him. I’ll set up a meeting with him tomorrow morning.”
“I…okay,” she said meekly. It was hard to argue with such a forceful personality.
Good. If Daniel ordered Raleigh to stay here, Griffin could go about his business without worrying about her safety. And maybe he could finally get to the bottom of this mess.
They took an elevator—an elevator!—to the third floor, which housed a guest wing. Raleigh was assigned to a room with blue silk-covered walls and elaborately carved walnut furnishings. Real Persian rugs. Fancier than the fanciest hotel Griffin had ever seen, that was for sure.
“Thank you, Daniel. I’ll see you both in the morning.” She closed her door firmly, but she couldn’t close the door on Griffin’s fantasies. Already he was picturing her in that bed, surrounded by silk bed linens and pillows, naked and willing in his arms.
He stifled a groan. This was no good.
“You have a thing for Raleigh,” Daniel said as they continued down the hall. A statement, not a question.
No use denying it. Daniel was no idiot. “She’s an incredible woman. Smart, beautiful, and completely unattainable.”
“She’s had a hard go of it. But it’s time for her to move on.”
“I couldn’t agree more. But it probably won’t be with me.”
“Why do you say that? You’re single, unattached.”
“And firmly committed to staying that way. I’m never at home. The closest I came to a lasting relationship was when I bought a cactus. Died after three months.”
“That’s too bad. I think the two of you might make a nice match.”
“Temporarily, maybe. Which is exactly why I’m not pushing it.”
“I appreciate your integrity. Because if you hurt her, I’d have to string you up by your, um, big toes.”
He could, too. With enough money, you could ruin anyone’s life. Look how easily someone had derailed Raleigh’s.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Griffin’s room was more masculine but no less luxurious than Raleigh’s. The private bathroom was an exercise in self-indulgence with granite walls that shone like mirrors. The walk-in shower alone was bigger than his bedroom at home.
Nothing had been left to chance. Griffin found two changes of clothes—his size and even his taste—and all the toiletries he could possibly need. Daniel, or maybe Jillian, was a freaking mind reader.
He indulged in the shower, trying not to get his bandage too wet, then wrapped himself in a feather-soft terry robe he found hanging on the back of the door.
It was only ten o’clock, and though he was short on sleep, he knew he was too restless to lie down. He wandered down to the end of the hall, where the media room was located, hoping to find a di
version there.
What he found was Raleigh, sitting in a huge, cushy chair with a book and a glass of wine. She didn’t hear him come in, so for a few seconds he had the pleasure of studying her.
She was wrapped in a robe, but nothing like his bulky terry garment. Hers was blue silk that exactly matched the walls in her room, and it draped over her slender body, showing a surprising amount of curves and displaying the subtle valley between her breasts at the neckline.
She had one leg tucked under her, but the other was bare from mid-thigh down, peeking out from the opening of the robe. She had beautiful, slender ankles and her toenails were painted a delicate pink. That little hint of femininity pleased him. It told him she hadn’t forgotten she was a woman, even if she chose to hide that side of herself most of the time.
She’d washed her hair and it was still damp, drying in a muss of waves. He remembered the lush curls he’d seen in the old photos of her and Jason.
Though he hadn’t made any noise, Raleigh looked up suddenly. “Oh. I didn’t expect anyone else to be up.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” he said as he walked all the way into the room and sat down on a love seat near Raleigh’s chair. “Too many thoughts chasing their tails through my head.”
“Me, too. I found this book on the shelf about quantum physics. I thought it would bore me into a coma, but no such luck. It’s fascinating.”
“At least it’s taking your mind off your…troubling thoughts.”
“Yeah. For a while, anyway.” She put the book aside without marking her place and adjusted the robe so it covered more of her chest. “I wish Daniel had provided me with a robe like yours, instead of this flimsy thing.” Then she touched her hair self-consciously. “I’m not really put together well right now.”
“I think you look fantastic,” Griffin couldn’t help saying. “Blue is a good color for you. And your hair looks…sexy.”
“Why do you have to say things like that?”
“Because they’re true.”
“You make me uncomfortable, you know.”
“It’s not my intention. Well, maybe it is, a little,” he said with a grin. “I want so badly to hold you. But those stone walls around your heart are a mile high and three feet thick.”
“I’m guessing it’s not my heart you’re after.”
He thought about that for a few moments. What did he want? More than what he usually wanted from a woman, despite what he’d just told Daniel. He’d seldom felt such a strong need for any woman’s company, in or out of bed. In unguarded moments, he fantasized not just about sex with Raleigh, but about sharing small, sweet moments with her. Holding her hand. Watching a sunset.
It was crazy.
“I want more than a quick roll in the hay.”
She looked a little surprised by his admission. “You know, maybe that’s why I’m so scared of you. If all you wanted was sex, it wouldn’t be quite so threatening. I have…needs, after all.”
“So if I was some sleazeball player who wanted to screw you, then never see your face again, you might be tempted?”
She folded her arms protectively across her chest. “You don’t have to put it that way.”
“It’s immaterial, because I don’t want you that way. You’re worth more than a quick lay.”
“Thank you. I think.”
“I’m not looking for gratitude. Look, Raleigh, there’s something between us, and it’s not one-sided. I see it in your eyes, I feel it rolling off you in waves. Why are you fighting it? We’re two single adults who like each other and have a strong, mutual physical attraction.”
“I don’t think of myself as single,” she said on a sigh. “I’m a widow. You don’t love someone the way I loved Jason, then just toss it away.”
“I’m not asking you to forget the man. But you might consider putting things in perspective. It’s been six years.”
“It might be another six before I’m ready. I might never be ready. My grief counselor said everyone heals at their own pace.”
Griffin wished he could get five minutes alone in a dark alley with that grief counselor.
“I’m sorry,” she said a little desperately.
This was not working. He had to get away from her and get his head back where it belonged, with his story. If he couldn’t sleep, he could work on the story, prepare for the day when he would have all he needed to send to CNI and get the green light.
“Okay.” He slapped his hands against his knees in a gesture of finality, then stood and headed to a bookcase, where he saw a laptop computer. Daniel wouldn’t mind if he borrowed it for the evening. He grabbed the computer and headed for the door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He was about to close the door when a single word froze him in place. “Wait.”
He turned and looked at her.
“I came in here because I just couldn’t lie in bed, alone. I remembered the accident today. Now I understand why I suppressed it.”
“Bad, huh?”
“The kind of bad I wouldn’t wish on anyone.” She shuddered slightly. “When I was a kid, I had nightmares about this big, black bull chasing me. But I was afraid to tell anyone about it. Night after night I would lie in bed and try not to close my eyes. But I always did.”
“It doesn’t surprise me, that you didn’t tell anyone. You were probably determined to be self-sufficient even then.”
She smiled, a little sadly. “I guess I was.”
“Would it—” He stopped and thought very hard about what he said next, because he wanted to be very sure he meant it. He examined his conscience for ulterior motives and, honestly, couldn’t find any. “Would it help if I held you? Because I could do that. With no thought or expectation of anything more. I could hold you until you fell asleep.”
She started to shake her head, an immediate, reflexive action.
“Uh-uh, think about it first,” he said.
“I couldn’t ask you.”
“You’re not asking. I’m offering. I’m insisting.” He put the computer aside and went to her. “Either of us could easily have died today. I don’t want to be alone, either. We can wear all our clothes. No funny business.”
Slowly, she nodded. “I think I would like that. Two…friends, keeping the monsters at bay.”
“Exactly.” It would be physical torture to have her so close, in bed, and not do anything about it. But if he could do something to take some of her pain away, to make her feel safer, he was willing. “Your room or mine?”
“Mine, I think.”
He walked slowly toward her and offered his hand. “Come on, then.”
It seemed to take forever, but she finally reached up and took his hand. They walked down the hallway together, holding hands like two old friends.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WHAT HAD SHE been thinking?
Oh, sure, snuggle up to big, strong, almost naked, great-smelling single guy who you know has the hots for you. In a bed made up with vanilla-scented silk sheets. And nothing will happen.
She’d wanted a simple distraction from her disturbing thoughts. Sooner or later she would have to absorb those memories of the accident. Absorb them, process them, put them in perspective—all those things mentally healthy people did so they could function normally.
But she wasn’t ready for that, and it had seemed like a good idea at the time to accept the offer of a strong shoulder to lean against, someone she wouldn’t have to do a lot of explaining to.
Now here she was, in bed with Griffin. He wore a pair of boxer shorts and a T-shirt, which she suspected was a concession to her. He probably slept in the nude. And she was still in her robe and nightgown, though both were so thin they offered little protection.
To his credit, he’d been a complete gentleman. He had put his arm around her, let her cuddle up next to him like a puppy, turned out the light, and hadn’t said or done anything since, and that had been ten or fifteen minutes ago.
He wasn’t asleep, though. His breathin
g hadn’t gone slow, deep and regular, and he wasn’t quite relaxed enough to be sleeping.
“Are you comfortable?” he whispered.
“Yes. Are you?”
“I’m fine.”
She was comfortable and not the least bit sleepy. Instead, she was plenty distracted. Griffin’s plan had worked a little too well. She tried to summon a memory of Jason—her husband, alive and well, laughing, teasing her. But the picture that came to mind was thready, insubstantial, like an old home movie that had been run too many times through the projector.
How much easier it was to picture Griffin. The memories were so fresh, the images so vibrant she could almost…no, she was touching him. Her hand rested on his chest, and she could feel his heart beating slow and steady. Up her arm and all the way through her body, she could feel his heart…
She was afraid to move. Afraid of what her body might do totally independent from her will.
“You’re tense,” Griffin said.
“I know.”
“You can change your mind. I’ll slink off to my own bedroom.”
He was giving her an out. The sane thing was to take it. “No, please stay. Maybe if you…remember how you talked to me in the limo? You helped me relax then.”
“I can do that. Start with your breathing. In to the count of five, out to the count of five. Fill your belly with oxygen.”
She did as he said, completely trusting him. After a minute of so of deep breathing, she could feel herself relaxing.
“How do you know this stuff?” she asked.
“Shh. We’re going to do progressive muscle relaxing. Start with your scalp. Feel your scalp and how it covers your skull. Now let every tiny muscle in your scalp relax…”
He progressed to her face, her jaw, her neck, her shoulders. She didn’t remember much past her chest and lungs, because she fell asleep.
When next she was aware, sunlight streamed through her curtains and a warm, male body lay beneath her. Jason—no. Her head was tucked beneath his chin, and she inhaled deeply of his skin and knew it wasn’t Jason.