have a girlfriend at this present time. I believe the expression is that I’m between relationships.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “You don’t have to be so defensive about it. I was just wondering, that’s all.”
“You were wondering if I’m gay.”
The idea hadn’t even occurred to her. She was awfully happy to know he wasn’t, though. “Not at all. I was just wondering why someone like you didn’t have hordes of women panting after you.”
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
She rather liked the way one of his eyebrows twitched. “Take it how you like.” Deciding it was time she changed the subject she leaned back in her seat. “Tell me all about River Park West. What’s it like there? Are there lots of singles? Do they have a rec room?”
“Fine, yes and yes.” He pulled up at yet another stoplight.
She watched his hands on the wheel—capable hands, with strong, square-cut nails. Everything about him seemed capable. And too controlled. She wondered just what it would take to penetrate those formidable defenses. “Swimming pool?” she prompted.
“There’s a swimming pool, yes.”
Just when she thought he wasn’t going to say anything else, he added, “And a gym.” The light turned green and he pulled forward.
“Ah!” Amy exclaimed. “So that’s where you get those muscles.”
His head jerked around as if he’d been stung. “Huh?”
She grinned at him. “You handled those cases like a WWF wrestler.”
He looked back at the road, but she could tell by his profile that she’d unsettled him. Terrific. It would do him good to get rattled now and again. No wonder he didn’t have girlfriends. He needed to lighten up if he wanted to get some fun out of life.
She tried to imagine the kind of woman Georgie would be interested in. Someone dark and mysterious, and at least four inches taller than her five-foot-four. Her complete opposite, in other words. Which was just as well, under the circumstances. Someone who looked like George Bentley, Jr., could make her forget the reason she’d left Willow Falls. And that would be a big mistake. For both of them.
Chapter Two
George’s feeling of impending disaster intensified when he discovered that the apartment his mother had rented for Amy was directly opposite his own. The suspicion that had been hovering in the back of his mind leapt to the forefront. His mother was obviously trying to match him up with the brat. She had to be out of her mind. Well, this was one game she wasn’t going to win.
Scowling, he waited while Amy excitedly unlocked the door to her new home. Trust his mother to put her nose in where it wasn’t wanted. All those warnings about being a gentleman. Hah! If she was using some kind of reverse psychology to provoke him into trying something just to rebel, she’d underestimated his intelligence.
If Bettina thought, for one minute, he could ever be interested in a naive, tactless chatterbox like Amelia Richard, then she had bigger problems than he’d realized. It was bad enough he’d agreed to act as watchdog for a while. He’d be damned if he’d show the tiniest little bit of personal interest in Ben Richard’s daughter. There was a limit to the lengths he’d go to repay a debt.
Not that he disliked Amy, of course. In fact, there had been an occasion or two in the car when he’d been momentarily charmed by her candid comments. She was so appreciative of everything, so refreshingly excited about seeing Portland for the first time.
Most women he met weren’t that open. It was hard to tell when they were being sincere. He had never enjoyed playing those kinds of mind games, which was probably why he wasn’t in a relationship right now. Not that he wanted to be, of course.
The door swung open and Amy beamed at him. “Aren’t you going to carry me over the threshold?”
Taken aback, he stared at her, while his mind groped for a suitable answer.
Her laughter pealed out, echoing down the hallway. “Don’t look so horrified, Georgie, I was only teasing.”
He finally found his tongue. “I asked you not to call me by that name,” he said forcefully, but she’d already darted into the apartment. Gritting his teeth, he picked up the cases and followed her inside.
The living room matched his own, except it was back to front, though the furnishings made it look different. The tweed couch and armchair looked comfortable enough, and a small dinette set sat in the tiny dining area. A washed-out seascape hung on the wall, and beige drapes hung at the window. Color, George thought absently. That’s what the place needed. And a television. He couldn’t imagine being without a television. He wondered if Amy was having one delivered with the rest of her belongings.
She seemed thrilled with the drab-looking room, however. She flung out her arms and whirled around in a full circle. “Just look at this! Isn’t it super? I just love it. And it’s all mine.”
“As long as you pay the rent, anyway.” George dropped the bags in the middle of the beige carpet. “Where do you want these?”
“In the bedroom.” Amy danced across the room to the hallway. “Come on, it’s probably down here.”
The last place on earth George wanted to be right then was in a bedroom with Amy. Nevertheless, he hauled the cases down the hallway, pausing outside the open bedroom door to dump the cases just inside.
“Thank you, Georgie. You’re a sweetie.” Amy bounced up and down on a bare mattress. “Come and try this out. It feels so comfy. I’ll sleep as sound as a rock tonight.”
George cleared his throat. “Amy, I have to insist. My name is not Georgie. I hate Georgie. You have to call me George.”
She pursed her lips, and something stirred way down in his gut. “Well, I don’t like George, either. It sounds so pompous and stuffy.”
She studied him while he stood there feeling a little like a giraffe on display in the zoo. Then she flicked her fingers at him. “I know! You’re a junior, aren’t you? I’ll call you J.R. It gives you a sort of sinister air, like the J.R. in Dallas. Real exciting.”
She had an irritating way of tying his tongue up in knots. He untangled his thoughts. “You can’t be old enough to have watched Dallas.”
“Of course I am! It was my favorite show.” She sent him that dazzling smile of hers.
He caught a glimpse of small, very white, even teeth and the stirring in his belly struck again. “I imagine you’re tired after your long trip,” he said hopefully. “You must be ready to put your feet up.”
Amy shook her head. He watched, fascinated, as her shiny auburn hair swung against her cheek. “Nope, I’m not tired. I’m too excited to be tired. I can’t wait to explore Portland!”
Remembering his promise to Bettina, George almost groaned out loud. There went his relaxing weekends. Mountains, desert, gorge, beach, wineries—maybe if he crammed them all into one weekend and got it over with, that would be
