pulled at him. She seemed to radiate an energy that tugged at him on a gut level.
Then there were those green eyes. The first time he’d looked into them, he’d felt as if he’d taken a punch right in the solar plexus. And when he’d clasped her hand in his, for a moment, he hadn’t wanted to let it go.
The last thing he wanted or needed right now was to pursue a relationship with a woman who could have that effect on him. A woman like that could change your life.
During the past year, he’d seen his two best friends, Gabe Wilder and Nash Fortune, meet the women they’d decided to spend the rest of their lives with. Nash had already married his former high school sweetheart, Bianca Quinn, and Gabe was planning to marry FBI agent Nicola Guthrie on Valentine’s Day.
He was happy for his friends, but Jonah liked his life just the way it was. Simple and uncomplicated. The right woman could change that. But on that night nearly a month ago in Denver, had he listened to what his mind was telling him? Had he heeded his gut instinct?
No.
Instead, he’d reverted to the reckless style of his youth when his name had been renowned in the family-court system. He’d followed Cilla Michaels when she’d left the party. He’d even watched her in the airport like a stalker until her flight was canceled. Then he’d followed her to the airport hotel and booked a room. Finally, he’d walked into the lounge, sat down at her table, and propositioned her for a one-night stand.
In the business world, Jonah Stone was never impulsive. He studied his options, planned various strategies. And he was even more careful in his private life and relationships. He’d been nine when his father had decided to desert his family, nine and a half when his mother had stepped in front of a bus rather than go on without the love of her life. He’d vowed never to be that vulnerable to anyone. Happy ever after didn’t happen. The most one could hope for was a happy right now.
Instinct told him that Cilla Michaels could have the power to make him hope for the impossible. He turned back to the table and let his gaze rest on the green box with its festive red ribbon. His instinct was telling him something about that box, too, and he might not be overreacting.
Once again, he debated calling Cilla and hiring G.W. Securities. He had no doubt that his friend Gabe would recommend she handle the case. She was here in San Francisco. Gabe was in Denver. And at the party, Gabe had spent some time singing Cilla’s praises to him. She’d been involved in a high-profile personal security case in L.A. and she’d saved a client from a crazed stalker. In Gabe’s opinion, she had a rare combination of intelligence and excellent instincts.
But if he called her, he’d also have her in his bed again.
He pressed his hands against his eyes and rubbed. He didn’t have to decide tonight. In the morning, he was flying to Denver to attend the annual Christmas party at the Denver Boys and Girls Club, a place he’d been running for years with Gabe and Nash. They’d opened the club when the St. Francis Center for Boys, the place where they’d all first met, had closed down. He’d discuss the box and the note with Gabe.
Jonah moved toward the spiral staircase to his loft. And there was always the chance that tonight would be the night that Cilla Michaels finally faded from his dreams.
CILLA JOLTED AWAKE AND TRIED to focus. Relief came when she realized she’d fallen asleep on the couch and not in her bed. During the past three weeks, she’d rationed the hours she allowed herself to spend in her bed.
Because the damn thing was cursed.
Each time she fell asleep in it she dreamed of Jonah Stone touching her, tormenting her, taking her.
And each time she woke up to find herself alone, she yearned for him. So avoiding her bed had become almost as important as avoiding Jonah.
Which was why she’d ended up dozing off on her couch during a Christmas movie marathon on the Hallmark Channel. The credits for Miracle on 34th Street were rolling down the screen. A quick glance at the time on her digital TV box confirmed that she’d dozed off for nearly twenty minutes.
That pissed her off.
Not only had she missed her favorite part of the movie, the part where Kris Kringle proves he really is Santa Claus, but she’d also missed the cheese and crackers. The plate sitting on the cushion beside her was now empty.
She glared at her cat. Flash, a plumply proportioned calico, lay stretched serenely along the arm of the sofa, a good distance from the scene of the crime.
Pets were not allowed at The Manderly Apartments, a rule that was explicitly spelled out in the lease and articulated equally clearly by the apartment manager, Mrs. Ortiz, a woman who reminded Cilla eerily of Mrs. Danvers in the old Rebecca movie.
But Flash hadn’t given Cilla much choice. When she’d moved in a few months ago, the calico had migrated from its former home on the fire escape to the living room via an open window. And stayed.
It had to be for either the food or the conversation since the cat wouldn’t allow her to stroke, cuddle or even pick her up most of the time.
“You’re supposed to share,” Cilla pointed out.
Flash’s bland expression clearly said, “You snooze, you lose.”
Her phone rang and the caller ID lady chimed, “Call from Wilder, Gabe.”
Cilla sprang from the sofa and raced for her desk. Gabe headed up G.W. Securities’ home base in Denver. Two months ago he’d given her a new beginning by hiring her to manage his branch office in San Francisco when she’d moved on from a personal security agency in L.A. Gabe wouldn’t be calling her at home on her night off if it wasn’t important.
Maybe he even had a job for her. Business had been good lately. G.W. Securities offered a variety of services to corporate as well as private clients. Lots of people wanted to give security systems for Christmas, and she enjoyed the challenge of working on their design. But there were times when she missed the action that came with providing personal security.
Mentally crossing her fingers, she grabbed the receiver on the third ring. “Gabe.”
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.”
“Not at all.” The cheese and crackers were gone, her favorite movie was over, and working would give her a perfect excuse to avoid her bed.
“I need a favor,” Gabe said.
Cilla’s heart sank. Not a job after all. “What can I do?”
“I want you to meet someone at the airport and make sure he gets home safely. He’s not a client. He doesn’t even know I’m making this phone call.”
Hearing the worry in his voice, Cilla reached for a pen and paper. “Who is he and what time does his plane touch down?”
On the other end of the line, Gabe expelled a breath. “Thanks, Cilla. It’s Jonah Stone and he’s due to arrive in San Francisco at 10:15. There was a lengthy delay because of the weather here in Denver. I was hoping the flight would be canceled, but he’s on his way.”
Jonah Stone.
Just the mention of his name had her heart skipping a beat. His image flashed into her mind—all
