hesitated, and Rylan hoped she might be about to confide in him. Then she smiled. It was a little too bright, as though she could be trying hard to convince him, or maybe herself, that everything was okay. “I’m sure they’re not. And please don’t worry about the safety of the artists you represent. I’ve had the front window replaced with toughened glass, and the alarm system has been upgraded.”
The moment was lost, and Rylan bit back his frustration. Instead, he tried another approach. “I hear you’ve been working late every night.”
“You hear?” This time Bree’s smile was genuine. “Now, whoever could have told you that? Surely, Kasey, my super-discreet assistant, hasn’t been telling tales about me?”
He grinned. “Actually, I overheard her talking to the security guy. He was asking if the reason you were staying so late is because of the big event coming up. I guess that’s because he needs to know so he can ensure the place is safe during the show?”
“David?” Bree asked. “Yes, he’s very conscientious, but he doesn’t work just for me. He’s employed to provide security for several of the businesses in the Diamond. He also does maintenance work for us. He’s a busy guy.”
Rylan was a native Coloradan, but he was new to Roaring Springs. Nestled within the valley, the town, with its bustling downtown area, was surrounded by the mountains, forests and a large lake.
First settled in the late 1800s because of gold mining, it grew to be a tourist destination, then blossomed further a decade ago when the Roaring Springs Film Festival was created. Although it always had celebrity visitors, the town had become a must-see trip for A-listers and wealthy executives.
Rylan had learned that the former warehouse units on the edge of Second Street were just on the cusp of the trendy part of town. Like this gallery, the new companies were young and vibrant. Restaurants, bars, nightclubs and technology firms formed the bulk of the businesses. The area was named after the central diamond-shaped space within, where tables and chairs spilled out from the bars, coffee shops, restaurants and the Yogurt Hut.
“I hope you’re taking care of yourself.” Rylan kept his voice light and teasing, trying to avoid showing that he actually did care. “Getting plenty of sleep. Eating proper meals.”
“I’m dyslexic.” Bree said it casually, but the sidelong look she gave him told Rylan his reaction was important. “By the time I’ve read a recipe, the ingredients have gone stale.”
“You need someone to cook for you.” He tried to remember the last time he’d felt this nervous. He seriously didn’t think he ever had.
Bree’s smile held a trace of shyness. “Well, if you’re offering...”
* * *
Aware that, if she wasn’t careful, her lips had a tendency to turn up at the corners in an I-have-a date-with-a gorgeous-man smile, Bree did her best to appear brisk and levelheaded as she walked through the gallery. It wasn’t easy, because Rylan really was the most handsome man she had ever seen.
He had the kind of looks that made her belly flutter, her pulse race and her thoughts stray into dangerous territory. Her first glimpse of him had made her jaw drop, and he had only improved on closer acquaintance. His hair was light blond and slightly curly, his neatly trimmed beard just a shade darker. There was something about the strong, determined lines of his face, an alertness that became more intense when she was around. His eyes were as blue as a summer sky. When they looked her way, their expression became so hot and hard it made her skin feel too tight.
He was tall and very well built. Broad in the chest and shoulders, with long, strong legs and the thickly muscled arms of a man accustomed to physical exercise. She was used to being around tough men, her brother and most of her cousins certainly fit that description, but she had never been so aware of a man’s power. Rylan’s raw masculinity made her conscious of her own femininity in a way she had never experienced before.
There was something else about him as well. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. An air of danger, mystery...and more. It felt like sorrow. He was a puzzle she couldn’t quite put together. All she knew for sure was that she wanted to try.
And he was cooking her dinner later.
Reminding herself that she was a successful businesswoman, she resisted the temptation to dance the length of the gallery. Because this was more than a date. They’d both known it as they made the arrangements. He was coming to her apartment. He was cooking her his signature dish. The night was leading somewhere...
What if he thinks I do this all the time?
Doubt hit her like a slap in the face, and she glanced over her shoulder. Maybe she should go back, talk to him, explain that she liked him, but she wasn’t very good at this whole dating thing? She bit back a groan. Here we go again.
No. She gripped the handle of her office door tightly, taking a moment to get her thoughts under control. Just because she had been burned in the past didn’t mean it was about to happen again. It was just dinner, for goodness’ sake. They were both adults. It didn’t have to lead to anything more... But she liked Rylan. A lot. What was wrong with taking a chance?
With a decisive nod, she stepped into her familiar space. She had a lot to do, starting with some calls. As she moved toward her seat, her gaze fell on the desk. There, in the center of the polished surface, was her digital recorder.
She gave an exclamation of delight and, snatching it up, hurried across the corridor to Kasey’s office. “Where did you find it?”
“Find what?” Kasey looked away from her pile of papers with a frown.
“My recorder.” Bree held it up to show her.
“Um... I didn’t. I’ve been right here since we last spoke.”
“Oh.” Bree turned the recorder over in her hand, studying it carefully. It was definitely hers. “I wonder who found it? Did you hear anyone go into my office?”
Kasey shook her head. “Maybe it was there all the time, and you just overlooked it?”
Bree knew that wasn’t the case. Yes, today had been an early start after a late night, and the caffeine had still been working its way through her system when she first reached for the recorder. But she had searched her office thoroughly. The device had not been there when she left and went to the promotions office to talk to Rylan. Which meant someone had found it and put it on her desk while she was gone.
“You could ask David to check the security cameras and see if anyone went into your office,” Kasey suggested.
Was it worth that sort of effort? Bree had her recorder back, which was the important thing, and she was too busy to take any more time out of her schedule. Besides, David Swanson, the security guard and handyman, was always running here, there and everywhere as he tried to meet the competing demands of his various employers.
Ignoring a tiny lingering doubt, Bree shrugged. “Too much to do.” She tried to make her next words sound casual. “And I don’t want to work late tonight.”
Bree
