I’m in a very exclusive spa,” she told Scott after he made sure she had everything she needed.
He grimaced. “My stepmother had all the rooms updated a couple of years ago. It was too Victorian, she said.”
His mother had died of breast cancer a few years ago. His father had remarried eight months later. A rush of sympathy made her smile perhaps too warmly. Before she realized what was happening, he’d bent close and kissed her.
“Cocktails at six in the library,” he murmured in a definitely husky voice.
After he left, she ran her fingers over her mouth as if wiping the kiss away. She and Scott had hit it off right away when she did some consulting work for CTC-Cascade TelCom, a telecommunications company his grandfather had started—but she wasn’t ready for serious involvement.
And his gaze had been very serious.
That worried her. Uncle Nick had lectured them about hurting other people’s feelings or letting things go too far when friendship was all you had in mind. He was big on honesty and all that.
Drifting to the double set of windows, she gazed out at the idyllic scene. The sun was going down and the house shaded the two tennis courts. The man served a high-speed ace, which the woman wasn’t able to return. She shook her racket at him.
Although she couldn’t hear it, Roni could tell the man was laughing. Then the woman was, too. They walked off the court and, chatting animatedly, came toward the house.
Roni’s heart gave a lurch she felt throughout her body. It couldn’t be! It just couldn’t be!
When he looked up as the couple climbed the steps onto the patio, she quickly stepped back from the window.
You can run, but you can’t hide.
Her uncle’s cautionary advice rang through her head as she glanced around the room as if looking for a bolt-hole to crawl into. While Uncle Nick meant a person couldn’t hide from his or her own conscience, Roni only wanted to hide from the man she would surely have to face when the family gathered for cocktails.
What would Adam think upon seeing her?
And why the heck was she feeling guilty about it? She hadn’t followed him. In fact, if she’d known he was to be here, she would have gone to the ranch or somewhere equally far from this luxurious country estate.
Well, there was only one way to deal with a vindictive fate—meet it head-on and with your best foot forward.
Going to the closet, she removed the long black skirt and black jersey top with brilliant orange and gold poppies embroidered around the neckline. She added fire-coral earrings and tied her hair at the back of her neck with a thin, black ribbon.
She was more careful than usual in putting on makeup. She also decided on the sandals with the two-inch heels rather than the embroidered slippers she had planned to wear for the “at-home” evening. When she put her best foot forward, she wanted to appear as tall as possible.
“Roni, this is my stepmother, Danielle. You’ve met my father,” Scott said, escorting her to the older couple who stood beside a mobile tea cart in the library. “Dad, you remember Roni Dalton, don’t you? She was the consultant who wrote the computer program for the company orientation project that was such a success.”
Charles Masterson shook hands with her. “Of course I remember. Nice to see you again.”
It had been almost three months since she’d completed that task. During the interim she’d seen Scott four or five times for dinner, but not during the past month due to work. After refusing other invitations, she hadn’t had the heart to say no to this weekend. Now more than ever she wished she had.
“A computer consultant,” Danielle Masterson said. “How interesting. I took several computer courses while studying for my accounting degree and found them fascinating.”
Roni managed to keep her mouth from gaping at this statement. She had assumed the woman had been Mr. Masterson’s assistant or secretary or something like that.
The woman gave a little laugh. “Did you think I was a social butterfly? I was a financial officer at the company for a year before Charles and I married. That’s how we met.”
“I see,” Roni said, wondering if the woman had gotten her claws into Charles while he was deep in grief over his wife’s tragic death.
Maybe she was being unfair. Danielle could obviously make her own way in the world without snagging a rich husband. Although extra money always came in handy, she thought with a cynical attitude new to her.
After she and Scott were supplied with glasses of white and red wine respectively, they moved on.
“This is my sister, Geena,” Scott continued, directing her attention to the other couple in the room. “And her guest, Adam Smith.”
Roni had spotted him as soon as they entered the library. The smile remained on his mouth, but the look she got from those cool gray eyes told her he wasn’t pleased.
She mentally shrugged. He hadn’t informed her of his social calendar, so how was she to know he would be here? And why was he?
His sister worried about his love life, or lack thereof, and Roni had flirted outrageously with him over the past year. He’d watched her every maneuver with sardonic amusement and great detachment. Most of the time. There had been that one kiss…
Anyway, she knew he wasn’t the kind to get emotionally involved. Unless he’d really fallen for the fair Geena?
The thought was so painful, she had to press a hand against her tummy to stop the tumult. Last Christmas, he’d made it clear by his indifference that he wasn’t, and never would be, interested in her. Her New Year’s resolution had been to enjoy life and stop daydreaming about one stubborn FBI agent who traveled fast, far and alone.
However, March had come and with it, the kiss, which had burned clear down to her soul and filled her with such dreams, such longing. Her resolve to forget him had gone up in smoke.
He’d left the ranch and she hadn’t heard from him until their encounter last Friday. If not for that, she wouldn’t have known he was in town.
So be it. Since he was using his real name, she wouldn’t have to guard her tongue every moment of the weekend, assuming he was staying until Sunday as she was. Now she waited to see if he acknowledged they knew each other or if they were going to pretend to be strangers.
“Roni and I are old friends,” Adam said with casual ease. “In fact, we’re almost relatives. My sister is married to her cousin.” His smile was all innocent warmth.
“I’m glad to meet you,” Roni said to Geena.
She almost laughed at her own earlier vanity in trying to appear taller, as if that might make her more commanding or something. The lovely Geena, wearing three-inch heels, was on level with Adam’s six-foot height. Scott was an inch taller than the other two.
As with her family—all the Dalton males tended to be tall and lean—she felt like the odd man, uh, person, out. However, she had learned long ago not to be intimidated by size or any other facet of human differences.
“It
