Erika moved away from Dillon’s side, her figure trim in her navy suit. Her skirt was just the right length to be professional and her white silky blouse had a scooped neckline that showed off her beautiful olive skin.
As she passed him, her scent, light and tempting, enveloped him. She turned her head and her dark eyes stayed on his. For a moment, a rippling intensity skittered back and forth between them.
She broke eye contact and had almost reached the door when Dillon caught the sound of voices and the clang of a gurney. All at once, there the paramedics were—ready to handle an emergency … ready to take care of Jeff while they transported him to the hospital.
Dillon was so grateful that Erika’s calm handling of the crisis, as well as his ministrations, had saved Jeff’s life. He wished recovery was an outcome for every sick child.
Yet he knew firsthand it wasn’t. He’d lost his own child to leukemia—and there hadn’t been a damn thing he could do about it.
At her desk, Erika suddenly went on alert a few hours later. She recognized the bootfalls of Dr. Dillon Traub as he strode up the hall to the infirmary.
She had heard he was the heir of an oil fortune. Western-cut suits that impeccably fit his broad shoulders, fine leather boots, as well as the oil fortune were all good reasons to stay away from him. Ever since she’d met him in June and chemistry had rippled between them, she’d known becoming involved with him would be trouble.
Not to worry, she reassured herself. She was sure he wouldn’t be interested in her at all if he knew the truth about her.
Now as Dillon appeared in the doorway to the infirmary suite’s reception area, Erika noticed his tawny blond hair looked as if he’d run his fingers through it. It had a wave that styling couldn’t deny.
He wasn’t smiling, and she worried that Jeff had taken a turn for the worse. “Is Jeff okay?”
Dillon’s gaze held hers. “He’s doing great. And I also want to tell you that you handled yourself and the emergency very well. But we’ve got a problem. Mr. Lindstrom’s talking about suing the resort.”
Dillon’s praise meant a lot. Simply because she wanted a promotion, she assured herself. “Suing the resort? Why?” she asked.
Crossing to her desk, Dillon stopped at the corner. “The kitchen has been making Jeff special meals because of his food allergies. Jeff said he ate his lunch right before the attack. Mr. Lindstrom is convinced there was a nut residue in the salad. He assured me he has enough money to keep the resort tied up in lawsuits for years.”
“Does he want a settlement?”
“I don’t think so. I think he just wants to make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else.”
“But if he sues the resort—”
“I know. These are tough times. Resort reservations are down considerably, especially for September. I’ll have to speak with Grant about the possible lawsuit.”
Erika noticed the deepened lines around Dillon’s eyes and didn’t believe the lawsuit was the only matter pressing on him. “Jeff won’t have aftereffects from today, will he?”
“I hope not.”
Was that pain in Dillon’s eyes? Turmoil? About what?
She broke eye contact, feeling the flutter in her tummy that happened whenever Dillon was around. She instinctively knew if she kept gazing into his eyes, almost anything could happen. She couldn’t let anything happen. After Scott Spencerman had left her so suddenly she’d made a plan for her life—and it didn’t involve romance. She would not be distracted no matter what the gossips said about her.
Putting the brakes on the course of their conversation, Dillon reached across the desk and tapped the notepad in front of her, obviously wanting to change the subject. She’d doodled guitars and cowboy hats and a pair of boots.
“What’s this?”
“I was just trying to decide what to do next.” Should she confide in Dillon Traub? Why not? This wasn’t anything personal. After the gossip fest the town had participated in about her, she kept everything personal away from her professional life.
“It’s Frontier Days,” she admitted.
In addition to being a receptionist to Dillon—which wasn’t always a very busy position—she was managing the Frontier Days Festival scheduled for the fourth weekend in September. The festival had been planned to boost business for the town and resort. It was a huge project for her, but Grant Clifton had said he had confidence in her abilities. She was hoping to use the festival to score a much-needed promotion. If she could be promoted from receptionist to even guestroom manager, she’d have more to spend on her monthly budget … more to save for Emilia’s future.
“Problems?”
“For the most part, everything is falling in line. I feel I have a handle on events in town as well as guest-stay enhancements here. There’s just one element that’s missing and I can’t seem to do anything about it.”
“What’s that?”
“The entertainment. I wanted to have a really great draw, like a well-known country singer—Brad Paisley, Keith Urban, Zane Gunther. I’ve called every manager I could find. I even have the county arena at the fairgrounds lined up for that Saturday night. But I don’t have a star to perform there.”
Dillon said, “Maybe I can help you with that.”
“Do you know someone?” she asked with surprise.
“I might.” His smile was a bit mysterious and, oh, so sexy.
She went on, “I’m a little worried about the weather, too.”
He was actually listening. That wasn’t a trait she had found in many men. “It can be unpredictable in September. I’m not planning summer activities in case the weather turns colder. Still, tourists will be in and out of the stores, sampling food from the chili booths, listening to campaign speeches with a lot more enthusiasm if we’re having Indian summer. I’ve made alternative plans for everything, but the best laid plans …”
Dillon had seemed to relax and now sat casually on the corner of her desk. “The resort needs tourists before the ski season starts to fill vacancies and the town needs them to support Thunder Canyon businesses.”
“That’s why I planned Frontier Days for late in the month. The candidates for mayor seemed pleased with that, too, so they could rev up their campaigns for the November election.”
“You’ve thought of everything.”
She felt color rising from her neck to her cheeks. “Not really.”
Electricity crackled in the air as they gazed into each other’s eyes.
“Is Ruthann here?” Dillon asked, seemingly out of the blue.
“She’s back in her office.”
He nodded. “I’ll check in with her
