by Lucy Francis
The phone sounded again, and Curran leveled a glare in its direction. He growled. “Kel’s ringtone.” Turning back to Victoria, he swept a quick kiss across her lips. “Don’t move from this spot.”
He left the couch, snagging the phone out of his coat pocket as it rang up the scale again. Concern shadowed his expression. That worried her, and made it easier to calm her raging hormones.
“Yeah, Kel?” He listened for a moment, then grimaced, running a hand through his dark hair. “Are you two okay? No, listen Kel, I don’t care about the vehicle. It wasn’t your fault.”
An accident. The last of her desire ebbed as she listened to Curran’s end of the conversation. His voice held a gentleness that made Victoria’s heart ache. She recognized the slight resignation in the way he spoke to his sister. He’d leave when he finished the call.
“Yeah, about twenty minutes, right? Bye.” He switched off the phone, dropped it into his coat pocket. He gave Victoria a half-hearted smile, then sighed. “Kelli and Rob were in an accident.”
“I figured. Are they okay?”
“A few scrapes, she said. Kelli’s religious about seat belts, thank God. Someone going too fast slid through a red light near the outlet mall and nailed their back end. Spun them into a light pole. They’re fine, but the SUV’s a mess. I have to go.”
“Of course.” She pushed off the couch as he picked up his coat and followed him out to the entry. “Tell them hello for me.”
“I will.” He pulled his coat on, then ran his thumb along her cheek. “Thanks for having dinner with me.”
“It was my pleasure.”
“Do you have plans tomorrow?”
A thrill wriggled through her middle. “Exercising the horses. Writing. Running to the grocery store at some point.”
“What are you willing to eat on a pizza?”
“Anything. Everything. If it’s pizza, it’s all good.”
Curran laughed, she felt the rumble under her skin. “Same time tomorrow, then?”
“Please.”
He slipped his fingers behind her neck, tilted his head down and kissed her softly. She forced herself to allow him to break the kiss. He pressed his lips to her cheek, then turned and opened the door. “Sleep well, Victoria.”
“Goodnight.”
She stood in the doorway, the cold night air chilling her through her sweatshirt until the headlights of his truck backed away from the house and followed the curved drive, then turned away down the lane. She closed the door, threw the lock, then wandered back into the great room. Dropping onto the couch, she stared at the vaulted ceiling.
Wow. She lay still, mentally replaying the zinging feeling, the fire Curran’s kisses sent roaring through her core. She’d never heated up like that, let alone so fast.
Nate said it was because she was a naturally cold woman. She hoped it was just more emotional cruelty on his part to say such a thing, but she’d dated enough men before him to think he might be right.
Maybe she should revise that conclusion. Her thoughts returned to Curran, to the darkness in his eyes when he looked at her, the secure warmth of his arms around her. She’d never craved a physical connection before, but Curran made her feel. She felt alive when he touched her.
She packed up the idea of writing about him in a mental garbage bag and chucked it. The only thing to focus on now was making sure her hormones didn’t get the best of her. She couldn’t, she wouldn’t let her physical attraction to him go too far. The only safe sex was no sex. She’d paid for relying on protection. The price was far too high ever to pay again.
Curran tore the top sheet off his desktop calendar, revealing the February page. He leaned back in his leather office chair and rubbed his eyes. The last time he’d dated a woman nearly every day for a month without having sex with her was never.
How the hell was he supposed to get anything done when he stared at the computer screen and only saw her? Thinking about her made his blood simmer, and she crept into his thoughts more frequently with each passing day.
He set his jaw and focused on the rows of numbers on the screen. This was the third analysis he’d done for DCS GlobalTech since he retired, and Jamie wanted it by tomorrow…
The ridiculousness of the whole thing suddenly struck him. He paged through the file on his screen, then pushed the laptop away. He picked up the cell, hitting the contact for his best friend.
Jamie Mickelson’s clear tenor answered on the third ring. “Curran, how’s it going, buddy?”
“She’s right, mate. Couldn’t be better.”
A chuckle sounded in his ear. “Bullshit. You need a massage, I can hear the tension in your voice. I thought retirement was supposed to bring unending days of sunshine and happiness. What’s wrong?”
“Jamie, you have a herd of MBAs and analysts filling the second floor at headquarters.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Why do you need my input on acquiring Tandena? It’s a good company, perfectly viable for purchase, and I’m certain you knew that when you emailed me these files.”
“I got some recommendations from the staff, yes, but Curran, you have a gift for this. Your hunches are better than the staff’s well-researched definitive answers.”
Curran switched the phone to his right hand, leaned back, kicked his feet up on the desk. “Be straight with me, Jamie. You don’t need me, and we both know it.”
After a moment, Jamie said, “Okay. I’m trying to keep you in the loop. After all, most of this is your money we’re spending, Mr. Controlling-Interest Stockholder, and if you stay abreast of what we’re doing over here, when you come back—”
“Ah. So that’s it. When I retired, mate, I wasn’t fooling around. This isn’t like a Brett Favre retirement, where I’ll keep coming back in a blaze of glory. I’m done. I have other concerns, and I have every confidence in your ability to lead the company. That’s why I kept you from taking that piddling CFO job with Horizon.”
Jamie laughed. “Quit pulling my chain, Curran. Everyone knows you won’t stay underground forever. Running things is in your blood, my friend. I send you stuff because I know damn well you’re going nuts not being on top of the heap. You want to oil the gears and turn the works every day, and don’t try telling me otherwise.”
“I have family and the ranch to focus on now.”
“Uh-huh. For how long? How long until that gorgeous sister of yours starts dating? What are you going to do when she marries again and moves away, Curran? Play rancher for the rest of your life?”
“I love the ranch.”
Jamie snorted. “Yeah, and I love drinking cerveza on the beach in Mexico, but I’m not going to make a life out of it. You know damn well this isn’t a permanent arrangement. The last two times I asked for your consultation, you acted like a kid on Christmas morning. So don’t tell me you plan to hang out in the Rockies, alone, for the rest… Oh. Oh, man. I get it. You’re not alone, are you? Some woman’s got you on her hook.”
He pushed the thought of soft curls, softer skin, and long, long legs away. She was a siren, calling relentlessly, leaving him on the edge of spontaneous combustion. Nothing more. “Yeah, okay. Remember who you’re talking to, mate.”
Jamie ignored him. “That’s why you don’t want to bother with office stuff. Awesome, I’m happy for you, bud. What’s her name?”
“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.” Curran looked up from the pen he twirled in his left hand as Kelli walked into his office. “Buy Tandena. Here, talk to Kelli.”
He handed the phone to her. She quirked an eyebrow at him until he said, “Jamie.”
Her face lit up and she pushed him, urging him out of the office chair so she could sit. “Jamie? Hey, handsome, what happened to taking a vacation last month and coming to see us?”
Curran closed the laptop then walked out of the office. He glanced at his watch. Quarter past five. Victoria would have just finished working for the day. He really ought to take her out. She’d never said
anything about it, but most women wanted to be wined and dined with some frequency. At least the women he’d dated before insisted upon it. Of course, most of them wanted the exposure and the press.
Victoria was a rather private person, but he doubted she’d mind going somewhere that gave her an excuse to dress up. Spending time together at his place or hers had to be getting old for her.
He strode down the hall to his room. There was a time when being with a woman at home meant dinner and sex, not necessarily in that order. As much as it frustrated him that he failed to steer Victoria into bed, just being with her, hanging out, felt…comfortable.
He’d realized his complete ease with her yesterday, when they spent two hours playing Scrabble with Kelli after Rob went to bed. Laughing and disagreeing over the validity of his native spelling in an American board game made him happy. Having her beside him gave him a strange sense of contentment. It was odd, but he found the thought of losing that contentment disconcerting.
Curran reached for his phone in his pocket, instantly recalling he’d handed it to Kelli, and reversed course back to his office. He really should take Victoria out. The Sundance Film Festival was over, so all the reporters had left town. Besides, he’d surely been out of the media spotlight plenty long enough to come and go as he pleased without wondering where his photograph would show up next. Thank God there were always other people for the public to find interesting. There was no reason at all why he couldn’t take her on a proper date.
They’d have a nice meal at a good restaurant. Perhaps catch that new romantic comedy she wanted to see. Then maybe, for once, he’d convince her to stay with him. It was more than just the sexual desire for her. It was starting to be downright damned miserable falling asleep alone every night.
Victoria stood in front of her bedroom closet, dripping from the shower, frantically searching for something to wear. Something nice enough to eat at Fusion Cafe. Little black dress would work for there, but not for the movies afterwards. Something nicer than jeans or the pajama pants she lived in. Add expected snowstorm and wind to the mix.
After pairing and discarding a half-dozen outfits in record time, she settled on russet-brown, wool trousers and a muted gold, cable-knit sweater with a V-neck.
Curran had somehow managed to get them a reservation at six-thirty, just before dinner rush. It was a tight squeeze, time-wise, but if he was willing to come out of seclusion and actually take her out, she could certainly rise to the challenge and be ready on time. Luckily, a little anti-frizz gel and a quick blast with the hair dryer made her impossible hair presentable. A brush with the makeup basics later, she slid gold hoops into her ears.
Sassy scampered back and forth through her tunnels for attention. Victoria went to the cage and looked down at the rat. “You were out for hours today, Sassafras.”
The rat washed her face, then stared up expectantly.
She reached into the cage and stroked her pet’s furry head. “Sorry, girl, I have plans. I’ll let you out for a little while when I come home.”
Ignoring the spoiled rat, Victoria walked down the hall to the kitchen. She didn’t want to be desperately staring out the sidelight by the front door when Curran arrived.
Dating Curran left her giddy inside. He made her laugh. They shared many of the same interests in reading, animals, music, movies. He even passed the acid test—he liked Sassy. There were still certain subjects he avoided, like work, other than that on the ranch. Not that she had room to complain, when she shied away from talk of her past, too.
It was a here-and-now sort of relationship, growing deeper but still uncomplicated. She liked it that way.
An ivory sheet of paper on the counter caught her eye, in the same place she’d dropped it after opening it a few hours earlier. There seemed to be something of a pattern to them, arriving every other week. This was the third. She picked it up, folded it into the original thirds without reading it again. She didn’t have to. The words swam before her eyes, simple and to the point.
You and I have unfinished business, baby.
It is far from over.
Anger spiked inside her, and she tossed the note with the other two in the desk drawer. Nate was dictating those notes to someone on the outside. Some creep was helping him reach her, but there wasn’t enough to go on for the police to get involved. The D.A. suggested she try not to worry about it, and think about getting a concealed carry permit to protect herself.
She sighed and wrapped her arms around herself. She’d told Mara about the notes, and her cousin simply clucked her tongue and said, “Don’t read them, silly, just toss them in the garbage.” Victoria shivered. She did need to see them, needed to keep them for evidence in case it somehow got worse.
Icy fingers of fear clutched at her insides as she wondered how it could get worse, but her anger flared, burning away the chill. How dare he still try to frighten her, intimidate her, hurt her!
She basked in the heat of her anger for a moment as she strode to her room, tossing the letter in the desk drawer. Anger made her sharp, kept her in control. Fear made her useless to herself. Yeah, she’d keep the notes. If it ever escalated into something more, she’d have a paper trail to work with.
The doorbell rang. Curran.
Anticipation flooded through her, leaving her tingling from head to toe, washing away both fear and anger. She hurried into the entry, not even feeling the cold when she opened the door.
Curran, wearing a long black leather coat over an electric blue sweater and black pants, moved into the house when she retreated a step. “Evening, Beautiful.” He brushed his lips across her cheek, much to her disappointment. She wanted his mouth on hers.
He looked her over, in that quick, sweeping way of his that made her feel appreciated rather than ogled. “Nice outfit. Coat?”
She opened the coat closet and pointed to the street-length red wool coat hanging inside. He helped her into it, waited while she locked the door, then twined his fingers with hers on the way out to his truck.
Instead of opening the passenger door, he backed her against it, leaning into her, his chest and legs flush against hers. Her heart skipped and pounded, a rhythm she felt between her thighs.
“So,” she whispered. “Does this mean I get a proper kiss hello?”
“I can’t help it. I know women hate having their lipstick mussed, but I very much want to kiss you.” His low voice made her heart trip again.
“I use the good stuff, it’s not going anywhere. Go for it.” The blood rushed from her head when he pressed his lips to hers. He nipped at her lower lip, and she met his tongue with her own, tasting him. Minty.
He rarely tasted of cigarettes anymore. He’d worked hard to quit over the last few weeks, but she knew he could do it. Curran had the strength to do anything.
Pride welled in her heart and she stroked his face and smiled at him when he ended the kiss. He grinned back, crinkling the slight lines beside his eyes, then settled her in the truck.
“Have you eaten at Fusion Cafe before?” he asked as he drove out of their canyon and headed southwest toward Park City.
“Once for my cousin’s birthday. It’s great.”
He nodded. “I went there several times during the film festival, before I moved here. The owner, Dakota Grant, is a real fireball. She dated my friend, Jamie, for a while.”
“Ahhh, that explains being able to secure reservations at the last minute.”
Fusion Cafe took up a ground-floor wing addition to the Silver Lode hotel, just off historic Main Street in Park City. The interior was spartan, with tables divided by etched chrome and glass half-walls. Sound deadening panels on the ceiling provided a decent atmosphere for conversation even on a busy night. Being a Thursday didn’t diminish the crowds much. Several groups and couples waited in the hotel lobby for their tables.
Curran placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her to the restaurant door. A pretty, petite, delicate blonde standing at the host desk smiled at them,
then did a double-take and left her desk to throw her arms around him.
“My gosh, Curran, I heard you were coming in tonight. I haven’t seen you in ages.”
He laughed. “No one’s seen me in ages, so don’t feel bad about it.” He stepped out of the hostess’ embrace and wrapped his arm around Victoria’s shoulders. “Honey, this is Georgia Grant. She manages the Silver Lode and is apparently filling in as maitre’d tonight. Georgia, my girlfriend, Victoria Linden.”
Girlfriend. Automatic pilot forced Victoria’s hand out to meet Georgia’s. Huge, multicolored fireworks exploded inside her, leaving her unable to control the huge, beauty queen grin plastered on her face as Georgia showed them to their table in a private corner. She forced down the urge to run home, call her old high school friends and scream over the phone in delight. God, she hadn’t been this giddy since Dale Whitby asked her to the Junior Prom.
Dakota Grant, her lithe form wrapped in a pristine white chef’s coat, arrived at their table shortly. Fusion’s owner and head chef was Georgia’s identical twin, save the hair, which Dakota wore short, spiky and burgundy.
She hopped up and down on the balls of her feet as Curran rose from his chair. She, too, greeted Curran like long-lost family, flinging her arms around him.
In her happy daze, Victoria noticed the way his eyes lit up, the way his innate charm kicked up a notch. He introduced her, then laughed as Dakota badgered him with questions.
“Where have you been, anyway? I thought for sure I’d see you in here during Sundance.”
He shrugged and ran his hand along the chef’s back. “Sorry, lady. It wasn’t that I didn’t miss you or your cooking. Just trying to stay out of the camera’s eye, you know?”
Dakota snorted. “Whatever, C. Glad to see you, anyway. Try the veal medallions tonight. The sauce is one of my better creations.”
She said goodbye to Victoria, then pulled Curran down and kissed him on the cheek before returning to the kitchen.