Sultry

Dolly positioned her hands on her hips. “You should worry more about yourself than him, you know?”

“I know.”

Lindsay smiled, walked out the door, and immediately wavered. For a late June morning it was hot and muggy, a rarity. The eighties was the norm. She shuddered to think what the remainder of the summer would bring. She considered returning to her room and putting on shorts. But she didn’t. It wouldn’t hurt her to perspire; if nothing else, it would clean out her pores.

Suddenly Mitch Rawlins came to mind, and her good mood instantly disappeared. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from wondering if he ever broke a sweat. Somehow, she doubted it. After all, he had a crew to do the manual labor.

That was why, when she rounded the corner of the big house and saw him in the flesh, she pulled up short, barely able to keep her mouth from flying open.

She was shocked enough at having come upon him unexpectedly, but the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt made matters worse. And droplets of sweat were flying off him as he dug a shovel into the rich earth.

She stood mute and swallowed hard. What to do? For some inexplicable reason, she wanted to turn and run. Yet she wanted to stay put, too. The latter won out, especially when he stopped what he was doing and faced her.

“Mornin’,” he said in a low, mocking tone, though he was looking at her with something akin to a fluid passion that seemed to link them.

“Hi,” Lindsay responded in a breathless voice, while her eyes—half wild, half afraid—stared greedily at him.

Was her face red? Probably. She couldn’t stop staring, totally captivated by his six-foot-plus frame, her gaze homing in on that bare chest matted with dark crisp hair that curled its way down to his navel, stopping at the waistband of his jeans.

And though she had no intention of taking her gaze any farther, she did, then jerked her eyes upward again, warmth climbing into her cheeks.

Heat boiled inside her suddenly, and her insides felt scalded. Jerking her gaze away from him, she schooled her features to show none of the turmoil raging inside her.

“You’re Lindsay Newman,” he said in a low, easy-sounding voice.

Lindsay forced her eyes back on him. “And you’re Mitch Rawlins.”

He gave her another mocking smile at the same time that he took several fingers and wiped a thick layer of sweat off his forehead. Besides having a billboard body, his face was easy on the eyes, though not handsome in the true sense of the word. His features were too strong and his beard too heavy, giving the impression that he needed a shave, which in itself was a bizarre turn-on.

His eyes were a dark blue, complementing his dark hair, which had a gray streak running through it, another turn-on. While his looks had certainly garnered her attention, it was the fact that he was actually working the ground himself that upped her curiosity another notch.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked, interrupting the growing silence.

His words were pointed, which boiled her blood again, but for a different reason. “I can’t think of anything,” she said, forcing a casualness to her tone that she didn’t feel.

“Well, then you won’t mind if I get back to work.”

His straight-from-the-hip directness drew both her anger and her admiration. “What are you going to plant there?”

He paused, raised his head, and though his lips twitched, she couldn’t say he was smiling.

“Do you really care?”

This time that directness hit a raw nerve. Nonetheless, she didn’t blink. “Not really.”

The corners of his sculptured lips rose in a real smile. “Didn’t think so.”

Even if she’d wanted to move, she couldn’t have. The power of that smile held her feet to the ground. “I guess I’ll see you around,” she finally managed to say.

He leaned on his shovel. “Probably will.”

She watched the sweat trickle down his belly before she lifted her eyes to his. Though the contact was brief, it was lethal.

“Have a good day, you hear?”

His drawling words broke the spell and jolted her into action. She turned and took off, her heart beating faster than her feet could possibly run.

Five

“Ouch!”

Lindsay figured Cooper and Dolly had heard her muttered groan of pain. She’d been in the small office in her bedroom suite all morning, going over her upcoming charity commitments. But every time she moved, she winced with pain, either silently or out loud.

Her shins were a mess. In fact, she had shin splints worse than she’d ever had them. She had no one to blame but herself for this predicament. Following her less than satisfying encounter with Mitch Rawlins, she had started to jog, thinking it would work off some of her frustration.

The problem was, she got carried away and took her stress management too far. She ended up jogging six miles instead of the three she normally did. Now, two days later, she was still paying for her over-industrious whim. Still, it had made her feel better, even though thoughts of Mitch Rawlins had run alongside her.

What was it going to take to strike him from her mind? Right off, she couldn’t think of anything. Disgusted, Lindsay turned back to the computer screen, to the words she’d typed. If she wanted to remove them, all she had to do was hit the delete key.

Voilà! Gone. Poof. Like magic. Too bad she couldn’t do the same with her erotic thoughts of Mitch Rawlins.

If only Peter attracted her in that way, then maybe there would be hope for them. But there was nothing about him that turned her on. The few times he’d kissed her, she’d felt nothing.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t tried. She had—admittedly more for her father than for herself, which in itself was wrong. Nonetheless, a future with Peter, for whatever reason, was not in the cards. But that didn’t mean she didn’t want a man in her life, though the thought of deeply caring about someone else and the responsibility that carried sent her into a panic.

She also panicked when she asked herself a hard question. After the real-life nightmares she’d lived through, could she ever sustain a lasting relationship with a man? What if… No! She wouldn’t sabotage herself like that—not when she’d been doing so well lately, especially now that she had a project in the making that she felt passionate about.

Speaking of passion… Her tummy suddenly flip-flopped as once again her mind betrayed her. She wondered if Mitch was married. She hadn’t seen a ring, but that didn’t mean anything. With luck, he would be attached, which would put the brakes on her thoughts as nothing else could.

On the other hand, if he wasn’t attached, then… Stop it! she told herself. So he had a great body? So what? She’d dated others who looked as good. Well, maybe not, but nearly. The one guy she’d been crazy about in college, had even gone to bed with, had had all the right stuff. Or so she’d thought. Obviously there had been something missing, because their relationship hadn’t endured.

Maybe it was Mitch’s eyes, she mused. They were such an unusual shade of blue, which made them seem mysterious. When he’d stared at her that last time, she had wished she could dive into those eyes and learn all his secrets.

Lindsay shivered, wondering if he thought the same thing about her. Talk about secrets—her heart was crowded with them.

Suddenly tired of this craziness, Lindsay lurched up, only to groan again, having forgotten how sore her body was. Damn, but she was more out of shape than she’d imagined. Maybe she should be the one putting in some quality time on the other end of that shovel. She would bet Mitch could run forever and not know it. He looked in perfect physical condition.

She shook her head, clearing him from her mind. He was the groundskeeper, for heaven’s sake. Even if she wanted to have sex with a man, it wouldn’t be with him.

She peered at her watch and decided now would be as good a time as any to talk to Cooper—something she’d intended to do two days ago. And though she dreaded it, postponing it wasn’t going to make it any easier.

Five minutes later, she knocked on his door. No answer. Frowning, she turned and made her way very gingerly down the stairs. She hoped he wasn’t on the golf course, for more reasons than one.

Dolly was polishing the bottom part of the banister. When she saw Lindsay, she stopped and shook her head in disapproval.

“Don’t say a word,” Lindsay warned.

Dolly rolled her black eyes high and around. “You younguns don’t have any sense. None of y’all. Just beat up on your body when there’s no call for it.”

“I know, Dolly. I’m guilty as charged.”

“You need to see a doctor.”

Lindsay tried to smile. “What I need is to stop hurting, and no doctor can remedy that.”

Dolly merely shook her head, all the while muttering to herself.

“Do you know if Daddy’s here?”

“He’s on the porch, finishing his lunch.”

“Thanks.”

Moments later, Lindsay eased onto one of the colorful plush settees that faced Cooper.

“Well, I see you’re still crippled,” he said, eyeing her up and down.

“Don’t you start. Dolly’s already put in her two cents’ worth.”

“And well she should,” Cooper responded briskly.

Lindsay took a deep breath, trying to catalog her thoughts. “Do you have a minute to spare? I’d like to talk to you.” Before Cooper could say anything, she went on. “And it’s not about Peter, either.”

“That’s all right,” Cooper said in a condescending manner. “We’ll save him for another time.”

Red hot anger surged through Lindsay. She wasn’t fooled. She knew what was going on inside his head. Cooper saw her rebellion as a whim. He thought if he was simply indulgent and patted her on the head, she would come around to his way of thinking.

“Go on,” he said into the silence, putting down the newspaper. “I’m listening.”

Lindsay unclenched her fingers. “I had been thinking about this before your accident, only I hadn’t acted on it. Now I want to.”

“What are you talking about, Lindsay?”

His impatience was obvious, but she overlooked it and went on. “You know how much I’ve enjoyed the benefits I’ve reaped from working with the women’s shelter.”

“Yes, though I can’t for the life of me see why. It would certainly not be my choice for you.”

This was going to be harder than she’d figured. His mind was already closed. But she wasn’t about to turn back now. Besides, she didn’t really need his approval; she just wanted it.

“Anyhow, there are some women at the shelter with children who could and would do better if they had any kind of help at all.”

“You mean other than what the shelter provides?”

Although Cooper’s tone sounded almost terse, at least he was listening. “That’s exactly what I mean. As you know, the shelter’s only temporary—a stopgap measure, if you will.”

“So I can assume you’re about to suggest something more permanent, right?”

Dismissing his patronizing and less-than-serious attitude, she forged on. “As a matter of fact, I am. I’m envisioning a place where those special families can live, go to school and access child care—all at no cost to them.”

Cooper laughed, though without humor. “Surely you aren’t serious?”

“I’m as serious as I’ve ever been about anything.”

“Place? What kind of place, for God’s sake?”

“A campus of sorts. Different buildings for different needs. Apartment-style complexes, a free-standing day-care center—” Lindsay broke off, her eyebrows coming together in a frown. “At this point, I’m not really sure. It’s still sketchy in my mind.”

“In my mind, it’s preposterous,” Cooper sputtered, color surging into his face.

Lindsay knew he was getting angry, but she didn’t care—as long as that anger didn’t harm him. She’d gone this far, and she wasn’t pulling back now, even though it would have been easier just to give in.

“The primary aim of this venture or program or whatever you want to call it would be to get these young parents out of the welfare system and help them become contributing members of society.”

“While that all sounds good, I don’t see it working.”

“Why not?” Lindsay demanded.

“Because it’s never worked before.”

“No one’s ever tried what I’m proposing before.”

“My point. That’s because it won’t work.”

Lindsay’s eyes sparked. “I disagree. I think it will work and work well.”

“So call our congressman and tell him,” Cooper said in an offhand manner. “Let him pursue it.”

“I don’t want to call our congressman,” Lindsay said, her voice tight but even. “I want to spearhead it myself.”

Cooper lunged to his feet. “That’s the craziest notion I’ve ever heard.”

“It may be crazy, but it’s not impossible.”

“Just say I thought it was a good idea—which I don’t—” Cooper added quickly “how the hell do you propose to pull it off?”

“With lots of money and lots of time.”

“Your money and your time, right?”

Lindsay didn’t so much as blink under the harsh glare of his criticism and censure. “That and grants. There’s all kinds of money out there. You just have to know where to find it, then how to get it.”

“And I suppose you do?”

She ignored the mocking edge in his voice and said, “Of course not. I don’t have all the answers yet, but it’s something I really want to try. Something that will give my life direction.”

“That’s baloney. Your life has direction. When you and Peter marry—”

“Don’t, Daddy. Peter’s off-limits.”

“As far as I’m concerned, this poppycock idea is what’s off-limits.”

“I thought you might even be willing to donate some of the money,” Lindsay said in a dull tone.

“Like hell!” Cooper raged. “I don’t want you that involved with those kinds of people, you hear?”

Lindsay blanched, mortified at his choice of words. “‘Those kinds of people’?”

“Yes,” he hammered on. “You’re a Newman. You’re meant for bigger and better things.”

“Like what?” she asked fiercely, fighting off her disappointment and forcing back the tears. She’d had such high hopes that for once he would see things her way, support her in just one thing she wanted to do. She should have known better, she told herself, bitterness coursing through her like poison.

“Like marrying Peter and making a home for him,” Cooper said into the reigning silence, his tone grim.

Lindsay’s chin jutted. She was determined not to waver from her game plan. She refused to be lured into another blazing gunfight about Peter. Besides, when Cooper got on his high horse, like now, there was no reasoning with him.

“And acting as my hostess,” he went on. “Something that is damn important to me. Which reminds me, now that I’m feeling like my old self again, I want to have a dinner party. Not a large one, but a party, nonetheless.” His eyebrows shot up. “Need I say more?”

No, but she was about to. “Why haven’t you remarried, Daddy?”

Lindsay knew she’d shocked him again, but that was okay. That question was one she had wanted to ask for a long time but hadn’t had the courage to. Now it just slipped out, and somehow it seemed to fit the natural order of things. Cooper loved to entertain, and he loved women. In her mind, the two were closely linked.

“I intend never to remarry,” he said coldly.

“Do you think that’s what Mother would’ve wanted?” Lindsay asked, fishing for something that even she couldn’t identify. She blamed Tim. He had scraped the scab on an old wound that had never healed. Now it was festering again.

Cooper’s features turned more frigid than his voice. “I’d rather leave your mother out of this conversation, if you don’t mind.”

“But I do mind,” she said, her eyes wide and questioning. “You never want to talk about Mother, what happened to her—or to me, for that matter.”

“You’re right, I don’t. End of discussion.” He got up and strode back into the house.

Lindsay withdrew her gaze from his rigid back and stared into the distance. But nothing was visible. Her eyes were too full of tears.

Six

Tim rubbed the back of his neck. He felt awful, like he’d been drinking for days and was being punished with a humdinger of a headache. He wouldn’t have minded the pain, if only he could say he’d reaped the benefits. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had a stinking drop of alcohol.

Eve. She was to blame. She had caused this roar inside his head, and judging from the way she was glaring at him through her dove-gray eyes, she was just getting started.

“I’m waiting for an explanation, Tim. And not very patiently, either.”

“What if I’m not prepared to give you one?”

She set her teeth, making her face appear more pointed than it normally did. She was an attractive woman, though not beautiful in the true sense of the word—not like Lindsay was beautiful. Maybe “pleasing to the eye” was a better way to describe his wife.

“Well, I’m not prepared to accept that.” Her tone was filled with sarcasm, something that was rare for Eve.

Under most circumstances, she was the quiet and dutiful wife he’d married while in medical school. He’d always considered them to have an okay marriage, because she was content to be his wife and nothing more. She had been a career woman once, but when they’d married, she had given it up.

Tall and willowy, she had shoulder-length dark hair that helped hide the fact that her neck was too long and scrawny. Her strong suit was the fact that she loved to entertain and did it well. She had been the perfect wife for him, and he hated like hell for anything to mess with that.

Now, thanks to his fuck-up, their marriage and everything else he held dear was in jeopardy.

Tim felt that roar in his head shift to his stomach, causing it to rebel. For a minute he thought he might actually have to head for the toilet. He took several deep breaths in succession, and it settled.

“You’re not leaving this room until you tell me what is going on.” Eve paused and seemed to fight back tears. “I’ve never been so humiliated in my entire life.”

He had just come in from the office, later than usual, and he was tired. This had been one day when he’d been forced to work far more hours than he liked. He’d had visions of coming home to a hot shower, followed by a hot dinner—not to a wife with an ax to grind.

“I’ll have some money in the account tomorrow,” Tim said, though he didn’t know where the hell he was going to get it.

“Why wasn’t there some in there today?” Eve snapped. “I couldn’t believe it when the teller told me our account was overdrawn.”

Tim turned his head and rubbed his neck harder.

“Look at me. This is serious, and I have a right to know what’s going on.”

“It’s just a temporary setback,” Tim said lamely.

She laughed without humor. “A setback? It that what you call this? That’s good, Tim. That’s real good.”

“I’ll take care of it first thing in the morning,” he said tersely. “Now, can we please drop the subject?”

Eve walked to the window in the huge living room, decorated to perfection by one of Garnet’s leading interior designers. Tim was proud of this house and the status it represented. The thought of losing it made his stomach do another unwanted tap dance.

She swung back around, her eyes troubled. “No. I’m afraid it’s not that simple.”

“Dammit, Eve, I’m tired.”

“And I’m still humiliated.”

“You’ll get over it.” He was getting mad himself, and it showed. He would hate to have to get ugly and put her in her place, but he just might have to.

“Don’t you talk to me like that,” Eve retorted. “Like I’m some imbecile.”

Tim’s eyes widened in surprise at the venom he heard in her voice. “Now, see here, Eve, I—”

“What have you done with all our money, Tim? Why is it that a doctor of your caliber and success has a zero bank balance?”

“I’ve run into a little bad luck in the stock market.”

She frowned. “But I thought all our investments were protected.”

“They are, at least—” He broke off, exasperation getting the better of him. “Look, you don’t need to worry your pretty head about all this any longer. You just do your thing, and leave the business end to me.”

“I know you, Tim, and right now you’re walking on eggshells. So just how broke are we?”

His mouth tightened. “I told you, it’s nothing I can’t take care of. I’m just in a bind right now.”

“What about your mother’s trust?”

“What about it?” he snapped.

“Get some of it and put it in the account.”

He didn’t say anything, which was the wrong move. His silence obviously spoke louder than words.

“Oh, my God!” she cried, though her voice was low. “You’ve depleted that, too, haven’t you.”

“No, I haven’t,” he lied.

“I don’t believe you, Tim.”

“That’s too bad,” he lashed back. “I’m in charge of this household and the money.” His tone dripped with ice. “Now, I suggest you see to dinner.”

Eve’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears, but she held her ground. “I’ll leave it be for now. But I’m warning you, you’d best make things right at the bank. I refuse to be without money, even if it means borrowing from your sister or your daddy.”

“That’s not going to happen,” he snapped again, feeling as though the floor under him had shifted. He was losing ground fast.

“Then take care of the problem,” Eve said in an unsteady tone. “I’ve never been without funds, and I don’t intend to start now.”

With that, she turned and walked out of the room, leaving a trail of perfume behind that added to his queasiness. He fell into the nearest chair and stared into space.

What a mess he’d gotten himself into. His gaze fell on the telephone on the nearby table. He headed toward it, but his steps faltered. He had an alternative, but it wasn’t one he was overjoyed about.

In fact, he hadn’t planned on having to take this route at all. But one bad investment after another had taken its toll, leaving him no choice.

Lindsay was already on to him. Now Eve. He figured it wouldn’t be long until Cooper found out. There would be hell to pay then, for sure.

He couldn’t risk that.

“What the hell!” he muttered, forcing himself to move to the phone. With a racing heart, he lifted the receiver and punched out a number.

The second he heard the strong voice on the other end of the line, he didn’t waste time. “It’s Newman. I’ve changed my mind.”

“You won’t regret it.”

“I’m depending on you to see that I don’t.”

“Let’s meet.”

“You say where, and I’ll be there.”

Long after he’d replaced the receiver, Tim still hadn’t moved. He shuddered to think what he’d gotten himself into.

Mitch stretched, then flinched.

“What’s wrong, boss? You stove up?”

Mitch pinned one of his hands, Jesse Valdez, with tired eyes. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I am. Every muscle in this old body is creaking.”

“It’s your own fault, if you don’t mind me sayin’ so.”

“Damn straight it is, Jesse, but I wanted to do it.”

“Was no call for you to.” Jesse removed his sweat-stained baseball cap, then shoved a hand through a mop of black hair, all the while never taking his gaze off Mitch. “Me and the others coulda cut up that tree in nothin’ flat.”

“You’re right,” Mitch said without further explanation.

Jesse shrugged. “Well, as long as you’re not thinking we can’t do the job.”

“Give it a rest, Jess. You and the boys are doing great. I couldn’t be more pleased. But right now, I’m calling it a day and heading to the shower. I suggest you do the same.”

“Got no problem with that,” Jesse said, grinning.

“Tomorrow’s another big day. The material’s coming for the new greenhouse. If I’m not mistaken, the dirt’s coming, as well.”

“We’ll be ready.”

“See you early thirty, then.”

Jesse nodded, then sauntered off. Mitch couldn’t help but smile as he watched him, thinking the man was going to lose his breeches any second now, they hung so low on his hips.