“Nice accessory. The stones match his eyes.” Kate hoped they were plastic stones. She’d like to buy the leash, too, but real turquoise would be pricey and sort of ridiculous for a cat.
“They’re from the local mine.”
“The turquoise is Bisbee Blue?” That particular type was legendary and definitely not cheap.
“Yep. I had a local jeweler embed the stones. Turquoise balances the chakras. Some say it also unites the male and female energies and stimulates romantic love.”
Kate sensed Esmeralda was dead-on serious, so she restrained herself from making any sarcastic comments, although she couldn’t help having skeptical thoughts. She was a scientist after all. “He’s neutered, right?”
Esmeralda looked offended. “Of course.”
“Then I’m afraid romantic love is pretty much out for this guy.”
“Well, that’s true.” Esmeralda reached over and rubbed a finger along Darwin’s jaw. “But he still needs to stay balanced. The leash is part of the deal.”
A cash register rang in Kate’s head, but she supposed, at the end of the week, she’d shell out for both cat and leash. “I can see why he’d want the leash he’s become used to. But the thing is I’m not ready to . . .” She forgot what she meant to say as she looked into Darwin’s eyes. “Can I pet him?”
“Absolutely.”
Crossing to the bed, Kate slowly reached out a hand toward the cat, who was regarding her with an unblinking gaze. Crooking her finger, she scratched along the side of his jaw the same way Esmeralda had. His fur felt soft as a mink’s. Closing his eyes, he began to purr.
“Looks like you’ve found the one,” Esmeralda said.
“Yes . . . I mean, no, I can’t take him. Not yet. Maybe at the end of the week.” Kate rubbed a spot behind Darwin’s ear, and he purred louder.
“Might not be here at the end of the week. A cat like that attracts a lot of attention.”
“Could you hold him?”
“That’s against our policy.”
Kate tried to think of all the reasons she shouldn’t do this, but she couldn’t remember a single one. “Then I’ll take him now.”
Chapter 2
As Jon drove the winding canyon road approaching Bisbee, he felt a sense of homecoming. He’d tried tropical getaways and glamorous ski lodges, but they hadn’t worked for him. This homey B and B, tucked into a small town only a short plane ride from LA, hit the spot, partly because nobody expected him to spend time at such a glitz-free establishment.
He’d stumbled on it by accident while researching quiet retreats on the Internet. The name Maggie Archer had caught his attention, and with a little detective work he’d discovered that she was indeed one of the Archer sisters. That meant she’d completely understand his need to drop out for a week.
That also meant he had a tenuous connection with Kate, not that he’d expected anything to come of that. She’d seemed distant during that lunch at her mom’s house a couple of years ago, and he’d concluded there was nothing to pursue. He wondered why she’d agreed to watch the inn for her sister this week. Given that amount of time in the same house with her, he’d probably find out.
His anticipation grew, but he told himself it was only because he looked forward to chilling out for seven days in a hideaway where he could catch up on his reading, cook, hike, and listen to the rain on the B and B’s tin roof. It had nothing to do with Kate.
And yet . . . He smiled as he neared the Time Tunnel through the Mule Mountains. The locals had dubbed it that, and when Jon had first come to Bisbee, he’d been charmed by this gateway into town. The residents insisted that passing through it took a visitor back to the way life used to be before BlackBerries, Twitter, and TiVo.
If he could truly go back in time and start all over with Kate, would he do anything differently? He’d liked her a lot in high school—maybe even loved her, he realized now. But he didn’t think he would do anything differently. Nothing he could have tried short of abandoning his acting dreams would have satisfied her. He hadn’t been ready to do that then, and he sure as hell wasn’t ready to do that now, after almost winning the damned Oscar.
On the other side of the tunnel lay the quirky little town. He wished he could explore it, but even a scruffy beard wouldn’t disguise him enough to patronize one of the restaurants or have a beer in a tavern on Brewery Gulch Road.
He wound his way up that road toward the Hummingbird Inn. Man, he was looking forward to this. He couldn’t remember feeling so excited since Oscar night. Sure, he’d lost, but being nominated had been a huge thrill. Next time he planned to take home that gold statue.
But this week he was putting ambition on the back burner. He’d learned that if he didn’t get away for at least a full week every year and plan activities that had nothing to do with his job, his work suffered. He credited his first year at the Hummingbird Inn for giving him the necessary focus for his role in Synchronicity. When he returned to LA, he’d start work on a new project. He planned to be rested and energized.
As he crested the hill, he got his first good view of the B and B. Maggie had restored the old house with style and grace. She’d had it painted a rich cream accented by dark green gingerbread trim and a green tin roof. Hummingbird feeders hung from tree branches and porch rafters. Last year he’d counted seventeen feeders.
A blue hybrid was the only car in the parking lot. He figured Kate would drive something like that. Casual questions to Maggie had revealed that Kate’s interest in monkey habitats extended to conservation efforts in general. Seeing the hybrid made Jon feel a little guilty about his Lamborghini and his newest indulgence, a Bugatti.
So he was a car snob. So what? But today he’d accepted the silver-gray sedan with no complaints. This week he would blend in.
After parking the car, he got out and took a deep breath of the Bisbee air, which smelled incredibly sweet after a recent rain. The reddish earth under his feet was still damp. It was quite a change from freeways and smog.
He might have missed the monsoon today, but more would come along this week. Once he’d heard about the tin roof, he’d deliberately scheduled his visits to coincide with the summer rainy season.
About this time Maggie usually came out to greet him, but that might not be Kate’s style. He didn’t care. Opening the back door of the sedan, he pulled out his suitcase and headed for the house.
Moments later, after repeatedly shoving his thumb against the doorbell, he concluded nobody was around. Okay, that sucked. He might not expect a red carpet, but he’d like to have somebody answer the door. He should have a key made that he could keep from year to year. Maggie would probably be okay with that.
Damn it. He was hungry and tired. But he couldn’t go into town for food and risk blowing his cover. He couldn’t call anybody, either. Maggie was on her way to LA for her cruise, and Kate was . . . Where the hell was Kate, anyway?
Feeling cranky, he sat on the porch swing to wait. A mellow guy would be happy to watch the humming-birds zipping around the feeders, but he wasn’t mellow. He hoped to be mellow in a few days, but for now he was still in LA mode, wound tight.
It would serve Kate right if he jimmied a window and climbed through it, but his dignity wouldn’t allow that. He wasn’t about to let her find him with his ass sticking out of a window he’d pried open with his Swiss Army knife.
It seemed like forever, but five minutes hadn’t passed when he saw her coming up the street carrying something in her arms. The sight of her striding toward him with her long tanned legs and her shiny fall of dark hair swinging with each step made him forget his hunger pangs and his travel fatigue.
He’d had a weakness for Kate Archer ever since they were six years old attending the same private school in Beverly Hills. She’d had a long braided ponytail then and a sweet smile. The smile had grown more wistful and sad during middle school and had almost disappeared during high school. He’d ached for her misery through the years of scandal. Her parents, bot
h famous Hollywood stars, had indulged in public fights about her dad’s affairs and had eventually divorced amidst much acrimony.
Meanwhile he’d enjoyed a stable life, probably because his tycoon father had been killed in a plane crash when Jon was only two and his movie-star mother had retired from the film business to raise him. Together they’d moved into his grandfather Trevor’s mansion. For the most part he’d been protected from the paparazzi and he’d definitely been encouraged to develop his talents. The Archer girls had been thrown to the wolves.
He doubted any of them had suffered as much as Kate, the shiest of the three. He’d been fascinated with her big dark eyes and her long black hair. She’d worn it longer as a young girl, like some tragic heroine out of a Shakespearean play.
Now he saw she wore it loose and shoulder length, and it still had that luxurious sheen of a shampoo commercial. Her big eyes remained temptingly mysterious, although she wore less makeup now than she did in high school, so she didn’t look quite so much like a poster child for Les Misérables.
She spotted him and called out. “Jon, I’m sorry! I went down the street to”—she glanced at the silver and black animal in her arms—“to adopt a cat.”
“Okay. No problem.” She what? He wasn’t sure how that would work out with Maggie’s antiques and her flower arrangements in cut-glass vases, but that was an issue to be settled between Maggie and Kate.
Kate mounted the steps, bringing with her the aroma of a new perfume. He’d associated her with a flowery scent, but that sensory memory was obviously outdated. These days she evidently preferred something headier. It reminded him of ripe peaches. He levered himself out of the porch swing.
“This is Darwin.” Her color was high, her breathing uneven, but that could be explained by the climb up the hill.
“Good-looking cat.” His uneven breathing couldn’t be explained by anything, unless he was willing to admit that Kate still turned him on. He hesitated to admit that right off the bat. He was supposed to be over her just as she was over him. “Shouldn’t he be in a carrier or something?”
“Esmeralda, the lady who runs the shelter, thought the harness and leash would do the trick, but I don’t want to put him down until he’s officially inside the house. I was wondering if you’d be able to get the key out of my purse so we can go in. It’s in the front pocket.”
“I can do that.” He stepped closer so he could fish around in her purse, which she’d slung over her shoulder. God, she smelled good. He was getting a definite sexual buzz. Embarrassing though it might be, the chemistry he’d always felt with Kate seemed to be alive and well and making its way to his groin.
Locating the key ring with the hummingbird on it, he pulled it out of her purse and walked over to the door. Maggie was proud of this door, he remembered. She’d insisted he admire the leaded glass inserts and the brass door knocker in the shape of a hummingbird.
He shoved the key into the lock and opened the door. “We’re in.” Then he stood back to let Kate go ahead of him.
“Thanks, Jon.” She walked into the house, clutching the cat to her chest. “I’m not being a very good hostess, am I? First you had to wait, and now you have to unlock the door yourself.”
“I don’t mind.” He wondered if he was imagining the nervous tremor in her voice. “Let me get my suitcase before you let go of him.” Back out on the porch, he grabbed it in one hand and lifted it into the entry-way. Once he had the door closed, he turned back to Kate. “That’s it. You can put him down. He looks more than ready to be free.”
“I know, but—”
“Wow, his eyes are the exact color of the turquoise in the harness. That whole presentation would be a big hit on Rodeo Drive.” He probably shouldn’t have mentioned Rodeo Drive, knowing how she used to hate anything to do with Hollywood. He wouldn’t be surprised if she made some snarky comment.
She didn’t. Instead she glanced up at him uneasily, a plea in her dark eyes. “I just realized I have another issue.”
She was definitely nervous. Either the cat was throwing her off her game or she was jumpy about being here with him. But he decided to keep it low-key. “What’s that?”
“I should probably unfasten his harness before I put him down. If he takes off, the leash will go flying behind him and could catch on something. That wouldn’t be good.”
“You’re right. It wouldn’t.” He had an idea where this discussion was leading.
“But I don’t think I can get it off and maintain my hold on him.”
Bingo. “So you’d like some help.” Jon could see the wisdom in unharnessing the cat, but he was afraid getting close enough to do it would add jet fuel to his already potent reaction. He wasn’t prepared to deal with that, at least not yet.
“If you wouldn’t mind. I promise it’s the last favor I’ll ask this week.”
He gazed at her. She was acting freaked-out, almost as if he intimidated her. That was not good. If they were going to inhabit the same house all week, she’d need to loosen up, for both their sakes.
So he gave her a Chesire cat grin. “I certainly hope you won’t keep asking me to do stuff. I am, after all, a VIP, an Oscar nominee, even.”
She stared at him for so long he wondered if she actually believed he was pulling rank. Then her shoulders visibly relaxed and a hint of laughter sparkled in her dark eyes. “My apologies, Your Oscar Nominee-ness. Once the harness is off the cat, I’ll commence with the flag waving and rose petal scattering.”
“Much better.” Jon winked at her before he stepped forward and studied the harness. The way she was cradling Darwin against her chest, a guy would have to be careful or he might accidentally grope her in the process of unhooking the clasp. Not a good move. “Maybe I should just unfasten the leash and leave the harness on. That way you can grab him more easily if you need to.”
“I’d rather take it all off.” The cat wiggled at that, and she worked hard to hold him. “There’s an adjustable loop around his neck, and I sure don’t want him to hang himself.”
“Well, yeah, that would be bad.” Jon leaned closer. If he could see the clasp before he started this procedure, he’d have less chance of committing a social blunder. But his concentration was broken as he inhaled her ripe-peaches scent. He’d always been a sucker for ripe peaches.
He could also hear her breathe, and it seemed to him she was breathing faster the longer they stood there fooling with the cat.
“The clasp is on the part that goes around his body,” she said.
He didn’t dare look into her eyes in case she was also rediscovering their long-lost lust for each other. If he saw awareness in her gaze, he’d want to kiss her, which was a bad idea on many levels, the principle one being the cat that would be squeezed between them.
“I can’t see where it unhooks,” he said. “Can you turn him a little?”
“I’ll try.” She dipped her head and whacked it painfully into his. Immediately she moved back, still clutching the cat. “I’m so sorry!”
“Hey, it’s nothing.” He resisted the urge to rub the spot. He couldn’t avoid looking at her now, though. Her color was high, but he wasn’t sure whether that was agitation over smashing her head against his or sexual excitement. “Are you okay?”
She swallowed. “I’m fine. I promise to keep my head away from yours so you can do this. He’s been moving so much, the clasp could be tucked under him by now. You’ll just have to feel around for it.”
Good Lord. He’d just been invited to feel around for a hook on a harness that was plastered between the cat and her breasts.
“Please hurry. I don’t think I can hold on to him much longer.”
“Okay, I’m going in.” Taking a deep breath, he grasped the harness and tried to ignore her ripe-peaches scent while he worked his fingers along the length of the nylon strap. The cat’s fur was incredibly soft, which only added to the erotic nature of this project.
Darwin meowed in protest and tried to break free, which meant Jo
n had to move faster, less deliberately, and sure enough, his knuckles made contact with her left breast.
She gasped.
“Sorry. I just—”
“I know. You couldn’t help it.”
“Nope.” He also couldn’t help the sensations washing over him as he fumbled around searching for the damned clasp. He wanted Kate Archer. He told himself he was over it, that she just haunted his memories because she was the last girl he’d dated before becoming famous, but he couldn’t lie to himself anymore. It wasn’t the timing; it was Kate.
Maybe it was a case of unfulfilled fantasies. During their dating days she’d been so paranoid about getting caught by the paparazzi that they’d never found the right time and place to have sex. They’d planned to remedy that on prom night, but they’d split up before the night was over.
He didn’t know if she had unfulfilled fantasies about him, but he’d love to find out. Usually he could control his urges better than this, but this hot yearning was so fierce it made his mouth water.
Maybe casual conversation was the answer. “So, how’ve you been, Kate?” he asked as he continued to fumble with the strap.
“Fine.”
He found the clasp but had to use both hands to unfasten it, which meant his hands were sandwiched between her breasts. “Last year Maggie said you might be headed to Brazil.” The clasp refused to open.
“Just got back from there.”
“Have fun?” He gritted his teeth and fought with the clasp as thoughts of making love to Kate right here in the hallway absorbed most of his brainpower.
“Loved it. Listen, are you—”
“Seeing anyone? No.”
“I was going to ask if you’re making any progress on the clasp.”
“It’s stuck.” He glanced up, and ten years fell away in an instant. He could taste her kisses as if they’d been in the back row of a movie theater last night. He’d been so green then, so untutored. Many times he’d regretted they’d never made love, but now he was glad. At eighteen he hadn’t been very accomplished.
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