The Morning After

Dylan followed, staring blankly at the papers on his desk. What had he been working on? A haze clouded his mind. He turned and nearly collided with Nikki.

“Now this is your room.” Appreciation shone in her dark eyes as she took in the solid-oak furnishings and cluttered tabletops. Papers and files pertaining to the fraud case he was working on covered nearly every available space.

“I…this is where I work when I’m home. I like it to be…utilitarian.” In fact, it was the one room Kathy had had no interest in.

“Dylan’s an attorney.” Ginger rubbed her hands together. “He’s defending Councilman Weatherby. Imagine, one of Miami’s finest citizens on trial like a common criminal. You’ll get him off, won’t you, Dylan? I can’t believe George has done a dishonest thing in his life.”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss the case. The local media is having a field day with it as it is.”

“Yes.” Nikki cocked her head. “I believe I did read something about it. I’m sorry. I don’t follow the news as closely as I should. I spend my days doctoring furry critters, then fall into bed exhausted at night. I don’t know where the time goes.”

“You’re a veterinarian?” Dylan almost smiled, picturing the lovely brunette with her “critters.”

“Yes, I am. I’ve always gotten along better with animals than people.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

It was a full bottom lip. Luscious. Made for kissing.

“Nikki has her own clinic in Bay Heights,” Ginger said.

Dylan forced himself to look away from Nikki. Guilt filled him. What had made him think of kissing her? Had the woman bewitched him? He cleared his throat. “Bay Heights. That wouldn’t be a far drive.”

“No, not at all.” Nikki turned to Ginger. “I’m anxious to see the rest of the house.”

“Of course you are, hon. Dylan, if you’ll excuse us…”

“Certainly. Make yourselves at home. Just let me know if you have any questions.”

Nikki glanced back, smiling as they left the room, and he stilled the urge to follow. “Briefs,” he muttered as he sat at his desk. “Where was I?”

He consulted the notes he’d been scribbling when Ginger had called. “Right, finance summaries.”

With quick motions he punched a number into his phone. After four rings, the message center on the other end picked up. He waited patiently for the beep, then said, “Evelyn, if you have them ready, I could really use those summaries on the Weatherby finances. In particular, I’m looking for September and October of last year. Give me a call if you have them, or just fax them over. Thanks.”

He exhaled and focused on the file in front of him, immersing himself in his work. The accountants were going over every detail, but he needed to understand where the councilman stood himself. Though all the columns in Weatherby’s P&L added up, Dylan’s sixth sense told him all wasn’t as it appeared to be.

A short while later, Nikki’s musical laughter floated down from the upstairs, shattering his concentration. He tossed down his pen. He had purposely left the office and all its distractions to work at home this afternoon. Now how was he supposed to get any work done with all of this racket in the house?

After another moment of staring blankly at the page in front of him, he gave up all pretense of working. He stood, then went in search of the pair.

He found them in the guest room. Sebastian, Kathy’s orange tabby, had draped himself unceremoniously across Nikki’s shoulders. Dylan paused a moment, not breathing. Since Kathy’s death, the cat hadn’t let anyone pet him, let alone pick him up—not even Dylan.

Nikki turned. Her smile faded. “Your housemate found us.”

Ginger ruffled the cat’s ear and he hissed at her. “Oh my, he hasn’t any use for me, though he climbed right up there. Seems to have taken a liking to Nikki.”

“He doesn’t like most people.” Dylan took a shaky breath. Showing the house was turning out to be harder than he’d expected. He stepped forward to take the cat, but Sebastian growled and leaped to the floor.

“Ow!” Nikki clamped her hand to her collarbone.

“Did he scratch you?” Dylan asked.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s bleeding.” Ginger’s eyebrows formed a deep V.

“Let me see.” The softness of Nikki’s hand plagued him as he moved it aside to see the double slash where Sebastian’s claws had marked her. “I’m sorry. I’ll get something for that.”

She waved aside his efforts. “I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.”

“He’s overdue for a clipping. He doesn’t like me handling him, and I’ve been so busy lately, I can’t remember the last time I took him in for a grooming.”

“He didn’t mean anything. Bring him by my clinic. We’ll get him clipped and clean for you.” She smiled as the cat rubbed up against her leg. “I’ve always had a way with the four-legged kind.”

“So it seems.” Dylan suppressed the anger rising in him. Why should Sebastian’s reaction to the woman upset him?

Or perhaps it was his own guilty response triggering his feelings.

“Well—” Ginger checked her watch “—if you’ve seen enough, I suggest we move along, Nikki. We have several more homes to visit.”

Relief flooded Dylan. Thank God they were leaving. His insides had been in a tangle since he first laid eyes on that woman. Now he could get back to work and get on with his life.

Nikki turned slowly around the room until she faced him. Her gaze caught and held his, though her words were directed toward Ginger. “Oh, I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I believe I’m ready to make an offer.”

2

SUNLIGHT STREAKED THROUGH the stained glass in a last burst of fiery intensity before the sun set that evening. Dylan clenched his fist, unable to tear his gaze from the fading light. Kathy had loved the window he’d had designed for her twenty-fifth birthday.

That last fateful night they had been leaving for a party his parents had thrown to celebrate his passing the bar. Kathy had stopped to watch the sun give up its last rays. “Oh, look. The sun’s saying good-night.”

She had refused to leave until the final bit of color had faded, her sweet eyes growing sadder with each passing minute. Then she had turned to him with a shrug. “It just isn’t the same without the light shining through.”

He’d swept his arms around her and kissed her. “Then I’ll be your light until morning.”

Her arms had tightened around him, her breath warm against his cheek. “You’re always my light, Dylan.”

God, he missed her.

He swallowed past a sharp ache in his throat, gritting his teeth against the loneliness that always overwhelmed him at sunset. How wrong they’d both been.

She’d been the light.

He closed his eyes. To his consternation, a vision of Nikki McClellan flashed through his mind. Her dark eyes beckoned him, filled with a promise he refused to acknowledge. He pushed the image away.

“No.”

No one would ever replace Kathy. He had no intention of pursuing any kind of relationship with Nikki. He had nothing to offer her.

The doorbell rang. He straightened in the dark, hesitating before rising. His family never visited, and hadn’t most of his friends gotten the hint and given up stopping by long ago? It was probably Steven. His old boarding school roommate was a diehard.

Steven had gotten married a little over a year ago. It seemed settling down into his own happiness made him more determined to drag Dylan back into the world of the living. The more Dylan resisted, the harder Steven tried. Guess that’s what best friends were for.

Dylan yanked open the door just as the bell sounded again. Evelyn Rogers, a paralegal at his office and the woman his parents had always favored over Kathy, stood on his doorstep. A tall man beside her met Dylan’s steady gaze while a streetlight cast long shadows across the porch.

“Why, Dylan, I was beginning to wonder if you were home.” Evelyn looped her arm through her companion’s. His dark hair played opposite to the platinum strands framing her heart-shaped face. “This is Nick Vancouver. I don’t believe you two have met.”

Dylan hesitated a long moment, then shook the man’s hand. “Dylan Cain.”

“I’ve long been an admirer of your father’s.”

Dylan’s gut tightened. Too bad he couldn’t say the same. His father was hell in a courtroom, but Dylan had seen too much of the man’s private affairs to hold any kind of respect, let alone admiration, for him.

Evelyn peered past him into the darkened house. “Has your power gone out?”

Dylan flipped on the foyer light, then stepped back wordlessly. As much as it would have pleased his mother, Evelyn had never been anything to him. Why then did it aggravate him to see this man by her side?

“I just wanted to drop off these summaries you requested.” She pulled a file from the briefcase slung over her shoulder.

“Thanks.” He took it from her. “I would have had a courier pick them up.”

She shrugged, her glance swinging to Nick, then back. “I wanted to stop by. No one’s seen much of you lately. You burrow into your office at work, then you hole up here the rest of the time. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Irritation grated through Dylan. “I’m fine. You needn’t have troubled yourself.”

“Well…” She shifted and tried an uneasy smile. “We won’t keep you. We have to run anyway. We’re meeting Nick’s parents for dinner.”

She twisted a large diamond on her ring finger. Inexplicably the knot in Dylan’s stomach tightened at the sight of the ring. Evelyn laughed a nervous little laugh, holding up her hand. “Isn’t it beautiful? Nick surprised me with it last week.”

Dylan nodded, unable to utter anything intelligible. He should wish them well, but the words stuck in his throat. He’d never cared for Evelyn in that way, so why was her good fortune so hard to swallow?

Beaming, Nick pulled her to his side. “I’m pushing for a September wedding.”

Pink tinged Evelyn’s cheeks. “He’s so impatient, but we’re going to try.”

“Ah, well…” Dylan let the words trail off. What was he supposed to say— That he wished them all the happiness he’d lost the night Kathy had slammed her car into that power pole?

Nick released his fiancée. “We’re going to be late. It was nice meeting you, Dylan.”

“Good luck,” was the best Dylan could offer as he again shook the man’s hand.

“Take care of yourself. I worry about you.” Rising on her tiptoes, Evelyn placed a kiss on his cheek. “Don’t be such a stranger, okay. You’ll come to the wedding?”

He shrugged. “I’m not much for ceremonies.”

Disappointment flickered in her blue eyes. “Well…let me know if you need anything else.”

He nodded, then shut the door firmly behind them. What he needed was peace and quiet. What he needed was not to be reminded of all the happiness he had no hope of ever retrieving.

“SO, EVELYN HAS HOOKED HERSELF a husband.” Steven Benson’s green eyes glowed in the dim light of Dylan’s study late that Saturday evening. “That throws a monkey wrench in your parents’ plan. I’m surprised your mother hasn’t called to agonize over it.”

Dylan grimaced. His mother never missed a chance to play the drama queen. He lifted a bottle and two glasses from a nearby shelf. He wasn’t a regular drinker, but tonight seemed to call for it.

He handed Steven one of the filled glasses. “She’s storing it up, waiting for the perfect opportunity to let loose. The more people to witness how I’ve failed her and take pity on her, the better.”

“What made them think you’d ever go for Evelyn?” Steven shrugged. “She’s all right, just not right for you. She’s more like them. Surface.”

Surface. The word described Dylan’s parents to a T. Appearances were all they cared about. Image was everything. With her highbrow bloodline and Ivy League education, Evelyn would indeed add luster to the family reputation. Unlike Kathy, who’d made it to Harvard not through her family connections or bank balance but on the full scholarship she’d worked so hard to earn.

He gripped his glass, stilling the urge to slam it into the wall. His parents had never accepted her. They’d upset her, driven her away that night.

“You look like you’re ready to break something. Don’t tell me you’re unhappy about Evelyn.”

“It’s not Evelyn. I don’t know. Seeing the two of them mooning at each other…”

Steven’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah. Sometimes it’s tough to take.”

The fax machine in the corner rang, then kicked on. Dylan sat brooding while several pages printed. He pushed his chair back, then reached for what appeared to be a contract. Gritting his teeth, he scanned the pages.

“She’s met my asking price.” He glared at the contract and took a long swallow of Scotch whiskey, welcoming the numbness the liquor instilled.

Steven refilled his own glass. “You’ve got an offer?”

Dylan nodded. “This woman came by the other day. Said she was ready to make an offer. When I didn’t hear back, I thought she’d changed her mind.”

“Even at your asking price, she’s still getting a deal. It’s worth every penny.” He leaned forward, his cropped red hair spiking upward, his gaze intent on Dylan. “It’s not too late. You can back out of this. I know I’ve been pushing for you to get back into the swing of things, but I wasn’t suggesting such a drastic change.”

Dylan hesitated for a moment. Was he making a mistake? Why was it so hard to let go? His gaze scanned the paneled walls. “No, there’s no going back. This is the only room I spend any time in.”

“But, Dylan, this house…it means so much to you. I know that better than anyone. Imagine what you could do if you dedicated yourself. You’re a natural. It’s a masterpiece, a sign of real creative genius. To just let it go…”

Dylan waved his hand in dismissal. “I’m an attorney, haven’t you heard? We don’t create. We tear things down, argument by argument. Besides, I’ve finally earned the old man’s grudging respect.”

A scowl marred Steven’s otherwise pleasant features. “It would do the old bastard good to have his plans go awry.”

“He’s my father. I’m the only one who can call him a bastard.”

“Ha! They were calling him that way before you were born.”

“Either way.” Dylan gestured at the room. “This house was a phase. I only managed it with your help. You’re the real architect. Besides, I’m good at what I do now.”

“But are you happy?”

“I buried all my happiness two years ago.”

Steven smacked his glass down on the desk. “Yes, it’s been two years. When are you going to snap out of it?”

Dylan narrowed his eyes on his friend. He picked up the contract. With a furious scrawl he signed his name across the bottom. “There. I’ve sold the damn house. How’s that for snapping out of it?”

Silence hung over the room.

Steven slumped back in his chair. “I do want to see you moving on. I just hate to see you sell this place.”

“It’s done. She wants to set the closing in a month’s time. So be it.”

“Not even a counteroffer? You should have asked for more.”

He shrugged. “I’ll pay closing. Let the witch have the place.”

“Witch?”

An image of Nikki McClellan floated in Dylan’s mind. “She must be one. That or…something.”

“By ‘witch’ do you mean ‘bitch’?”

“No, not that.”

Steven sat forward. “I get it. So your buyer’s a babe?”

Guilt still plagued Dylan, but the liquor had loosened his resolve. “When we were in the gardens, all I could think about was getting her into the hammock.”

“Excellent.” Steven nodded in approval. “This is definitely progress.”

“I feel like I’m being…unfaithful.”

“No! You’re not. Kathy would want you to be happy. This is a good thing. You should act on those impulses. God, it’s about time. Ask this witch out.”

“I don’t know what it is about her….”

“I think she’s just what the doctor ordered.”

“I’m not ready for a relationship.”

“Make it a no-strings affair.”

Dylan stared at his empty glass. “I can’t believe a woman like her would go for that.”

“It’s a new millennium. Women like their independence. You won’t know unless you ask. This is huge. Do you realize you’ve been like a dead man walking around here? You’ve been working way too hard. When was the last time you even thought about a woman? I’d about given up on you. I can’t wait to tell Rebecca. She’s been living for this day.”

“Whoa. I said that I find this woman attractive, but I didn’t say I was going to do anything about it. This is a big step.”

“But you’re giving it serious consideration. I can tell. You’ve got that spark back in your eye.”

Slowly Dylan nodded. Maybe Steven was right. Anything was better than the agonizing tedium his life had become. “We’ll see.”

“THERE HE IS, ALL FIXED UP.” Nikki handed the kitten to its young owner. “Told you we’d make him feel better.”

“He’s a big boy. He didn’t even cry. Just like me. I didn’t cry when I got my shots to go to kindergarten, right Mommy?” The six-year-old owner of the kitten beamed at her mother.

“That’s right, sweetie.”

“Well, Oliver’s all set.” Nikki scratched the cat behind his ear. A wave of calm flowed from the little guy as he gave a contented purr. “You ready to take him home?”

The child radiated with excitement. “Can we find him a special treat?”

“You got it, sweetie. Thank you, Dr. McClellan.”

Nikki bade mother, child and kitten goodbye as she walked them out of the examination room into the waiting area. Several people sat in the chairs against one wall while Janet, her receptionist, talked quietly on the phone.

Nikki paused, absently nodding at something Oliver’s owner said. A tall blond man stood with his back to them, bent over the sign-in sheet at the reception counter. Her pulse quickened. A familiar melancholy drifted to her, but it seemed different today than when last she’d experienced it—tamer somehow.

The man straightened, turning toward her, and she smiled, unexpected delight filling her. “Dylan, I thought that was you. What are you doing here?”

He nodded toward her groomer, Sarah Hendricks, who stood behind the counter, her gaze fixed admiringly on him. Sebastian made a feeble protest from her arms. “I decided to follow your advice and bring him in for grooming and nail clipping.”

“Oh.”

The man was a mystery. Had she imagined that heated look in his garden? He certainly hadn’t acted on it. In fact, when he’d come upstairs during her tour of his house, she’d gotten the distinct feeling he’d been angry with her. Thank God he’d accepted her offer on the house.

“He seems happy enough here.” He nodded toward Sebastian.

“He’s in the right hands. Sarah will take good care of him.”

Talking soothingly to the cat, the young woman finally tore her gaze away to head toward the grooming area. Nikki drank in the sight of Dylan. He wore a charcoal suit with a blue shirt that brightened the color of his eyes. His shoulders appeared broader, and he seemed to take up more space in her waiting area than he had in the expanse of his house.

His pleasure at seeing her swept over her, stealing her breath and warming her cheeks. She had never experienced this kind of intensity from anyone before. It was a desire so pure, her throat tightened with the beauty of it. It called to something deep within her, and she couldn’t stop herself from reaching out to touch his arm. Even through his clothes she felt the connection.

“Thanks for bringing him in,” she managed at last before dropping her hand.

“It was the least I could do.” He traced his finger along her collarbone, sending a ripple of pleasure up her spine. “How’s the scratch?”

“Healing. I’ve had worse, rest assured.”

He nodded slowly. “This is a nice place you have here. Did I understand correctly that you own it?”

“That’s right. I had a little help from my great-aunt Emma. She died last year and left an inheritance to my sisters and me. I could never have established my own clinic so quickly without her.”

“It seems to be prospering.”

“I’m doing okay.”

“Okay enough to buy a house.”

“Yes.” She experienced again that giddy feeling that had hit her when she’d heard he’d accepted her offer. “I’m really excited about that. It’s my first.”

The muscles in his jaw bunched, then relaxed. “Seems we both have something to celebrate.”

She nodded.

He hesitated a moment, then said, “Perhaps we could toast our good fortune over dinner sometime?”

“Dinner?”

He was asking her out. The hungry glint in his eyes as they had stood in the garden flashed through her mind. So he had been interested. What would it be like to spend an evening with him? “I suppose that would be nice.”

“Great. I…” A short laugh escaped him. “I have to check my schedule. I have to be in court quite a bit this week. In fact, I need to run now. My assistant will pick up Sebastian later, but could I call you?”

“I look forward to it.”

“Wonderful.” A smile lit his face.

“Nikki?” Janet walked over and handed her a clipboard. “Boxer and Mrs. Sneldon are ready for you.”

“Thanks, I’ll be right there.” She turned to Dylan. “I’ve got to get back to work.”

“Right. Me, too. So…I guess your number is on the contract?”

She laughed and it came out higher pitched than she’d intended. “That’s right.”

“We’ll talk soon then.”

She nodded, and he favored her with another smile before turning to leave. She headed back to the examination room with a sigh. She needed to focus on her work before she succumbed to the worst case of infatuation in the history of womankind. Somehow she had to find a way to shield herself from this man.

3

“THE MELONS ARE FRESH TODAY. Would you like a squeeze?” The young man’s eyes gleamed the following Sunday as he offered the fruit to Nikki.

His gaze dropped to her breasts. She shivered and pulled close the blouse she’d worn over her sundress. She’d seen that expression too often. She smiled politely and moved on, knowing she’d have to circle back for her bananas. Her best strategy was to put distance between her and this Casanova.

Sighing, she turned her cart down the juice aisle. Attracting men had never been a problem. If only she could figure out how to keep one.

As they had for most of the past week, thoughts of Dylan Cain swirled through her mind. She’d missed his call earlier. They’d been playing phone tag since his visit to the clinic, so she’d left her cell phone number on his voice mail when she’d last called him back. She placed a bottle of juice in her basket. Like the house, something about that man called to her.

Her cell phone rang and her heart quickened as she pulled it from her purse. “Hello?”

“Nikki, how’s my girl?” Thomas Scott’s voice crackled across the line. He was the one man who’d remained a lifelong friend of her mother’s without ever having slept with her. Nikki loved him like a father.

“Hi, Thomas. Just grocery shopping.”

“I hate to bother you on a Sunday….”

“No bother. What’s up?”

“It’s my sister’s dog. He’s got something weird going on. His whole face is swollen. He was fine one minute, then he just started puffing up like a balloon.”

She frowned. “Poor Buck. Why don’t you tell Lola that I’ve got to drop these groceries off, then I’ll meet her at the clinic?”

“He’s over here with me. I’m watching him while she’s out of town.”

“Oh, then I’ll just stop by your place. You’re closer than the clinic.” And he wasn’t far from Dylan’s house. Maybe she could drive by afterward and get another peek.

At the house or the man?

“That’d be great. You think he’s okay?”

“I have to see him first to know for sure. Was he outside when it happened?”

“We were out back. Why?”

“The last time I saw a dog do that, he’d just snapped up a bee.”

“You think it’s an allergic reaction?”