Never Tell
Stopping at the bar, she poured Maker’s Mark in a short glass and handed it over. “Actually, Morton’s upstairs now and should be down soon to join us for a drink. He was able to leave the office early today.”
Hunter kept his reaction to that off his face and lifted the glass. “Here’s to a beautiful lady.”
“Thank you, Hunter.” She took a sip of wine from a glass she poured for herself, then brightened as he produced the gift-wrapped box. “Oh, what a lovely package. Hmm, this is probably going to be something wonderful. Dare I ask where you got it?”
“At a shop in the Village,” he said, and relaxed against the bar as she set her wine aside to open it. “And before you brag about my good taste, I’ll tell you it was Hank’s recommendation. The artist was featured in Sunday’s Zest and he seemed to think you’d appreciate something done by her.”
“Really?” Some of her pleasure seemed to fade and a tiny line formed between her eyes. But before he could question her, Morton appeared.
“Hunter. Glad to see you.” Smiling and jovial, he held out his hand and they shook. “Your mother’s looking fantastic for an old lady of fifty-seven, don’t you think?”
“She is,” Hunter said, lifting his drink. Lillian was studying the signature wrapping paper on the package. “Go ahead, open it, Mom. I have it from the designer herself that it’ll suit you.”
“Who’s the designer?” Morton asked on his way to the bar.
“Erica Stewart,” Hunter said as Lillian pulled at the gauzy bow decorating the box.
He was looking at the gift, so he almost missed a wordless exchange between Lillian and Morton as he said Erica’s name. He thought Morton muttered an obscenity, but when he glanced at the older man, he was busy pouring himself a drink from the bottle of whiskey. “Do you know her? Hank said you’d mentioned her work. He seemed to think you’d like anything she did.”
“I’m sure it’s lovely,” Lillian murmured, removing the lid from the box. The jacket, a creation of champagne silk lavishly trimmed with Austrian crystal, was nestled in a froth of creamy tissue. Light from the chandelier overhead reflected off the crystal as Lillian stared at it, then quickly reached for the lid and covered it. Hunter thought she seemed a little pale as she set the box on the bar, and it was with some effort that she smiled. “Thank you,” she managed to say in a shaky voice. “It’s very nice.”
“You can exchange it for something you like better,” Hunter said, frowning. “They were insistent about that.”
“They?” Lillian reached for her wine and quickly took a sip.
“She has a partner. He was in the shop when I bought the jacket.” Still trying to make sense of her reaction, he added, “Do you recognize the artist?”
Lillian perched on the edge of the sofa, her knees tight together and her wine clutched in both hands. “Yes. She’s…I think…local.”
“Mom, is something wrong? You’re pale as a ghost and you look upset.”
“No, I’m fine. Just a little light-headed.” She blinked a couple of times. “I skipped lunch and shouldn’t have.” She set the wine on the coffee table in front of her. “I shouldn’t—”
“Maybe you should have a piece of cheese or something before you head out for dinner.” He glanced at Morton. “There’s something in the kitchen that she could have, isn’t there?”
“I’ll get it,” Morton said.
Lillian waved a hand and looked distressed. “Really, it’s nothing. I—”
“Humor me, Mom. While he’s gone you can tell me what you know about Erica Stewart. She was…well, I guess I didn’t know what to expect. She was kind of reserved but really helpful in choosing your gift. You’re about the same size, so she tried this one on to give me an idea whether I thought it would fit.” Her image came instantly to mind and he smiled. “She was in this black T-shirt and black jeans and she’s got this curly hair—real dark—that she kept blowing to keep off her face. And big gray eyes. I was there just as she was opening a shipment of the stuff she works with and she kept grabbing up her sketch pad and scribbling in it.” His chuckle was soft as he gazed into his drink. “She was polite—I guess she has to be—but she made it plain she wanted me to get the hell out of there so she could go back to work.”
“Sounds like you got a pretty good fix on her,” Morton said, returning with a plate of small cheese squares, which he handed to Lillian. “I don’t know how your mother could add much to that character sketch, except to say we heard she’s going to be recognized in the next issue of Texas Today.” He reclaimed his drink. “She’s named as one of their Twenty Women to Watch in Texas, if you can believe that.”
“After seeing her shop, I can believe it.”
Morton was shaking his head at the inexplicability of it. “Proud of it, is she?”
“But modest,” Hunter said. “She went out of her way to credit her business partner. Seems he has a flair for marketing and promotion.”
“Credit should probably go to more than her business partner,” Morton said, taking a piece of Lillian’s cheese for himself. “There’s a sugar daddy somewhere, mark my words. She’s auctioning something at the symphony fund-raiser your mother’s friends have drummed up. You need to know somebody to get in there.”
“Someone like Mom, I assume,” Hunter said, wanting to knock the smirk off Morton’s face. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt a fierce desire to defend Erica. He didn’t like the idea that Erica might compromise herself for a shot at publicizing her art.
“Considering the success of her label, the auction committee was lucky she was willing to participate,” Lillian said quietly, nibbling on a bit of cheese. “And I’m not a member of that committee.” There was some color in her cheeks now, but she still seemed not quite right to Hunter. It was always like this when he had to be around the two of them, a tense undercurrent with Morton throwing his weight around and Lillian holding her breath for fear that her son and her husband would get into a row. But Hunter wasn’t in the mood tonight.
“Is Erica going to be there or is she just donating something for the auction?” he asked.
“Why, can we stick you with a couple of tickets?” Morton said, rubbing his hands together. “Your mother’s always looking for takers. And it’ll take some of the heat off me. I warn you, though, they’re overpriced.”
“Hunter isn’t interested in charity events for the symphony,” she said softly.
“Somehow, I can’t see Erica at an event like that,” Hunter said, smiling at the memory of her standing barefoot in her office amid a sea of wrapping paper. “Won’t everybody be wearing shoes?”
“What?” With cheese suspended in midair, Lillian looked at him, frowning.
“She has this goofy habit of kicking her shoes off.” Hunter headed to the bar to refill his drink. Morton intercepted him and did the honors while Hunter took the lid off the box to get another look at the jacket. “Are you sure this is okay, Mom? There are quilts as well as these jackets. And there’re other things from some pretty spiffy designers in the shop. I don’t know anything about this stuff, but Jason was pretty proud of what they carry. Me, personally, I liked Erica’s stuff best.”
“Jason Rowland,” Lillian murmured.
Hunter gave her a quick glance. “You know him?”
“He’s Bob Rowland’s boy,” Morton told him.
“Who’s Bob Rowland?” Hunter asked.
“One of Morton’s business acquaintances.” With a look at Morton, Lillian got to her feet, setting the cheese aside. Then, to Hunter, “I could never be disappointed in any gift from you, dear. Thank you. It’s simply beautiful and I’ll treasure it.”
“If you’re sure…” He still felt something was wrong here, but he didn’t have a clue what it was.
Morton set his glass down with a thump. “Well, our reservations at Annie’s will be lost if we don’t leave soon. Hunter, you sure you won’t join us?”
“Thanks, but I’ve got some paperwork on my desk that I can’t ignore.”
Lillian touched his arm. “When will I see you again, Hunter?”
“Not sure. I’ll call you.” He bent and kissed her cheek. “Happy birthday, Mom.”
Lillian returned to the den to find Morton studying the jacket, still in the box, its decorative trim twinkling like so many diamonds. “What are the chances he’d choose her shop from all the places in this town to buy a gift, babe? Damn thing looks expensive, too. She’s making a killing selling that flashy stuff.”
“I can never wear it.”
“No?”
“No.” Lillian stood with her arms tight around herself. “And it’s not flashy, Morton. It’s quite beautiful, really. I just—I mean, it’s not…possible for me to wear something Erica’s designed. I’d be afraid lightning might strike me dead.”
“Oh, get a grip. You don’t even know the woman. And go get whatever jacket you intend to wear tonight. I meant it when I said they wouldn’t hold our reservations. We’ve got twenty minutes before they go to someone else.”
With a sigh, she turned to do as she was told.
Four
Erica scribbled her signature at the bottom of the umpteenth document put in front of her and tossed the pen on the table. “Well, I hope that does it, Michael. My fingers are cramped from all that signing.”
“It’s the last for a while.” Her financial adviser collected the documents from her desk, tidied them up and slipped them into his briefcase. “We’ll watch both the stock and bond markets and if we decide you need to move some of your assets, I’ll give you a call.”
“Tell you what,” she said, standing up. Her shoulders were tight and she put a hand up to massage her neck. “I appreciate your advice, Michael, but I’ve been keeping pretty close tabs on my investments. I’ll give you a call when I’m ready to make other changes.”
“Erica, Erica, Erica…” He was shaking his head. “I know you feel quite confident in some of the choices you’ve made on your own recently, but—”
“I’m happy with all the choices I’ve made recently, Michael,” she said dryly. It irritated her that he thought he needed to guide her like a blind person through the mysteries of money management.
He gave a pained smile. “Well, of course, but these are precarious times in the financial world and there are pitfalls that you may not be aware of. If you’ll allow me—”
“I’ll call you, Michael.” She’d relied on Michael Carlton’s expertise to manage her money at a time when she had little or no interest in whether it grew or not, but that had been a few years ago. She was now quite capable of managing on her own with occasional professional advice…when she asked for it.
As Michael snapped the locks on his briefcase, she came around from behind her desk to escort him out of the shop. She would have to let him out, as it was a few minutes after closing time and Jason had left for the day. But instead of following her out of her office, Michael put out a hand and stopped her.
“Since business is done for the day, how about having dinner with me?” he said. Michael was a man of medium height, dapper and exquisitely coordinated in his Brooks Brothers suit and tasseled loafers. But even features and a flair for clothes didn’t quite disguise the fact that he was about as interesting as a financial prospectus. Dinner with him would probably include a lengthy analysis of the day’s market activity.
“Thank you, Michael, but I’m working on some new designs and they’ve kept me up several nights in a row. I think I’ll have an early night.”
“You have to eat something, don’t you?” To her surprise, he reached out and brushed a stray curl from her cheek. She withdrew slightly, resisting the urge to actually slap at his hand. Was the man making a pass?
“I’ll get takeout,” she told him, her hand on the doorknob.
“Then a drink. You have time for that, don’t you?” His tone lowered and his blue eyes roved lazily over her face. He moved in a little closer and she took a matching step back against the open door. “You’ll be nice and relaxed, then you can have that takeout and snuggle in for the night. Better yet—” he gave what he probably assumed was a sexy smile “—I’ll snuggle with you.”
She thought she heard the faint tingle of the shop door and with a sigh of relief realized that Jason must have forgotten something. The tension she felt eased and she said laughingly, “Michael, you can’t be serious. What are you doing?”
Now he had both hands on her waist. “I’m making a move, Erica, something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. But I knew you weren’t ready.” He pulled her a little closer and touched his lips to her temple. “You’re beautiful, but it’s like you don’t realize how beautiful. You drive me crazy.”
“Oh, please, Michael. If that’s a line, it’s a ridiculous one.”
“See, you think you have to deny it.” He sniffed her hair and it was all she could do not to laugh. Wait’ll she told Jason. He’d get such a hoot out of this. She was startled when he suddenly pulled her close enough that she felt just how aroused he was. “I love your hair. I’d like to just lose myself in it,” he said.
“Michael, stop. I mean it. You don’t want to cause a scene, do you?” Until now, she’d had both hands on his chest and felt reasonably certain she could shove him away. But suddenly he had both his arms locked around her and she couldn’t break his hold. And now he was trying to kiss her! Repulsed, she averted her face.
“Stop it, Michael!”
“Just one kiss, Erica,” he muttered, rooting around in the vicinity of her ear. “You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever known. Jesus, I want you.”
“Well, get over it,” she told him, still straining away from him. A kiss from Michael Carlton wasn’t going to be pleasant, but with his arms like a vise around her, she was afraid she was going to get one if Jason didn’t appear soon. The man was much stronger than he looked. She’d have to get rough, she supposed. Wiggling against him was doing more harm than good. And then, somehow, he forced her up against the door and was fumbling under her skirt. In no time, he’d found her panties and next thing he’d have his hand where no man had touched her in nine years!
“Michael, stop it! I mean it.” Outraged, she tried to push away from him, but he was fully aroused and now working at his zipper. My God, she thought, did he think they were going to have sex right here in her office…standing up, with her resisting in every way she could think of? There was a name for that. With a mighty heave, she shoved him back and aimed a kick between his thighs. It missed, but landed on his kneecap, knocking him off balance and giving her time to scramble out the door. She slammed it shut and twisted the lock.
For a moment, she stood outside breathing hard, thanking fate that Jason had had the forethought to install a lock on the office door to keep nosy customers out when neither of them occupied it. Just then, Michael rattled the doorknob. When nothing happened, he gave a quick, hard rap on the door. “Erica, let me out.”
“After you’ve cooled off.”
She heard a low chuckle behind her and turned, ready to light into Jason for waiting until things got out of hand before showing himself. But it wasn’t Jason standing a few feet away with his arms folded over his chest and looking mightily amused. It was Hunter McCabe.
“Are we having fun yet?”
She shoved her hair back from her face with both hands and realized that she was trembling. “I thought you were Jason.”
“Not even close.” Grinning, he moved his gaze to the door where Michael was now kicking and banging and cursing.
“Damn it, let me out of here, Erica!”
Hunter winced. “If this is the way you treat interested suitors,” he said, “it’s no wonder you’re still single.”
“I have no interested suitors and that’s the way I like it,” she said. Ignoring the racket Michael was making, she told herself she hadn’t felt so much threatened as outraged. And it was adrenaline making her a little shaky, not fear. “And how did you get in here?”
“I came in the front door.”
“That’s impossible. Jason locked up.”
“This is crazy, Erica. Open the door this instant!”
Controlling his smile, Hunter glanced at the door. “I think he means business.”
“And I think he can stay in there until hell freezes over, which is what he deserves.”
Now grinning, Hunter asked, “Will you let him out before morning?”
“I suppose I’ll have to.” She didn’t want to admit it, but she was just now realizing that opening the door to let him out might be a bit risky. He’d revealed a surprising streak of aggression. But he could hardly do anything with Hunter here. With a look of disgust, she flipped the lock and took a hasty step backward as the door was flung wide. It brought her up against Hunter’s solid, male frame.
Breathing hard and flushed with fury, Michael opened his mouth to say something, but Hunter firmly cleared his throat, and whatever it was died unspoken. Settling for a dignified retreat, Michael said stiffly, “That was totally unnecessary, Erica. You completely misunderstood my intentions, but we can discuss it another time.”
“I don’t think so, Michael.”
Hunter stepped around them to pick up Michael’s briefcase. “Are you going to introduce us?” he said, handing it over.
“My former financial adviser, Michael Carlton,” she said, then added in a frosty tone, “On your way out, leave the papers I just signed on the counter, Michael. The only thing we have to discuss is whatever arrangements are necessary to dissolve our association, which we’ll do first thing Monday morning by phone. Don’t—” she put up a hand as he tried again to speak “—don’t insult me further with a lame explanation for what you did. Just consider your apology offered and be thankful I don’t mention this to your father. Goodbye.”
“His father?” Hunter repeated as they watched Michael skulk out.
“Stanley Carlton. He’s a senior partner in the firm and the person I originally consulted.”
“How’d Michael get in the picture?”
“After a while, Stanley began to suggest that Michael fill in for him. Since I knew Stanley was still overseeing everything, I didn’t particularly object.” She breathed out a long breath and resisted an urge to wrap her arms around herself. “It just never occurred to me that he had anything like this on his mind,” she muttered, looking around in a distracted way for her keys. She was more than ready to go home. “All he ever seemed interested in was how to increase dividends and shelter money.”
“I don’t know why you’d assume that,” Hunter said, taking her jacket from a coatrack. “He was handed a golden opportunity, he’s male, he’s apparently not gay. I, for one, am not surprised.”
She swept up her keys and snapped off the light. “If you’re suggesting that he has an eye on my portfolio, you don’t have to draw me a picture. I get it. Now.” She paused, looking over the interior of the shop to be sure no other customer had wandered in after closing hours. Seeing no one, she allowed Hunter to help her into her jacket. “It just irritates me that I was caught off guard. I didn’t have a clue what he was thinking.”
“I can’t help feeling a little sorry for him,” Hunter said.
“You’re kidding.”
He shrugged. “Seeing you on a regular basis and being forced to keep your relationship strictly businesslike must have been torture for the poor bastard. And I wasn’t suggesting he had designs on your portfolio. I was suggesting he had designs on you, ‘the sexiest woman in the world.’” He made quotation marks with his fingers.
Okay, he was amused again, at her expense. But now Erica was beginning to see the humor in it, too. She made a disgusted sound and laughed. “You heard that?”
“It’s a good line.”
“Well, I never gave him any sign that I’d welcome that…or any line.” She sighed and looked at him. “And I should apologize that you were dragged into something so distasteful.” She paused, wondering now at his reason for stopping in. She glanced at the counter, expecting to see the gift box with the jacket he’d bought for his mother. Except for the papers that Michael had left, the counter was clear. “I assume you’re here to exchange your mother’s gift?”
“Why would I do that? She loved it.”
“Oh. Well—”
“I was driving by and realized it was closing time. I thought you might let me buy you a drink. My mother went speechless when she opened that box. Do you get that reaction often?”
Erica stuffed the financial papers in her purse. “We haven’t had a problem selling that particular style. I’m glad she liked it.” She was also glad that Jason had adjusted the lights into overnight mode so that the place was dimly lit. The way Hunter was studying her face, he’d be able to tell she was a little flustered. It was beginning to dawn on her that if she hadn’t managed to slam the door and lock Michael in her office, he might very well have finished what he started.
She blinked when, with a finger beneath her chin, Hunter tilted her face up. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“No.” She shifted away from him, looked down at her keys. “It was just that he surprised me. I wasn’t expecting anything like that and he’s always seemed so…well, harmless.”
“No man’s harmless in a situation like that. He’s probably been fantasizing about you for a while and thought he’d take his chances. I’m glad I happened to show up when I did, but to tell the truth, you didn’t look as if you needed much help.”
“Well, he made me mad. I told him to stop and he didn’t.” The adrenaline rush was fading a little now, and standing alone in her shop with a man like Hunter gave her an entirely different feeling. “Maybe the next time a woman tells him no, he’ll believe it,” she said with a militant look in her eye.
“I think he got the message,” Hunter said dryly. “If not, his bruised knuckles will remind him.”
She smiled in spite of herself. “He was banging pretty hard on the door, wasn’t he? I hope he has trouble typing on his stupid computer.”
Grinning, he propped an elbow on the counter. “Seeing how ticked off he was, I’m wondering how you were going to let him out of there. Did you realize you had a tiger by the tail?”
“Not until I slammed the door. I owe you for arriving when you did.”
“Then how ’bout that drink? I’m thinking a margarita, top shelf. Cuervo Gold.”
She felt a new rush of nerves. “Oh, I don’t—”
He straightened up with a pained look. “Please don’t say it. You don’t drink.”
“I do, but—”
“Good. There’s a quiet little bar about three blocks away. You can follow me in your car or I’ll drop you back here when we’re done.”
A few minutes ago, when she’d turned and found Hunter and not Jason at her back, she’d been surprised by her reaction. In his battered leather jacket, his worn jeans and boots, he’d looked a lot more dark and dangerous than Michael, who’d just assaulted her. But it wasn’t fear that had streaked through her. Just the opposite. Something more elemental and exciting. She wasn’t used to reacting to a man in that way, and had almost forgotten what it was like.
“I’ll follow in my car,” she said. And without giving herself time for second thoughts, she walked with him to the door.
Five
Hunter picked a booth toward the back of the bar for its privacy. This was his first opportunity to spend one-on-one time with Erica and he intended to make the most of it. Since buying the jacket, he hadn’t been able to put her out of his mind. He wasn’t sure what it was about her, but sitting across from her now, he knew he didn’t want to be anywhere else at the moment.
When their margaritas were set in front of them, he lifted his, waited for her and then touched his glass to hers. He’d like to say something she’d find sexy and charming, but he had a feeling she was a woman who wouldn’t appreciate anything that sounded like a practiced line, and besides, she struck him as needing a slow hand. He had a feeling, too, that it would be worth the wait. “To a new financial adviser,” he said.
“Absolutely.” She took a dainty taste. A bit of salt clung to her lip and she licked it off. As he watched her, it was all he could do not to reach out and maybe run his thumb over the enticing curve of her lower lip, then bring it up to his lips for a taste of her.