Читать книгу Flirting with Trouble - Elizabeth Bevarly - Страница 9

“Mr. Whittleson?”

Daniel glanced up from where he sat beside his father’s hospital bed. The nurse had spoken his name barely loud enough to hear it. Dressed in the traditional white uniform so many nurses in the States had abandoned in favor of brightly colored scrubs, she looked to be in her fifties and had the sort of soft, pleasant features a person liked to see in someone whose job was taking care of others.

In the same hushed tone, he said, “Yes?”

“I’m sorry to disturb you, but you have a visitor.”

“Don’t you mean my father has a visitor?”

She shook her head. “No, sir. The woman asked if a Daniel Whittleson was here. That’s you, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “Yeah, that’s me.”

But why would anyone be visiting him? he wondered as he rose to follow the nurse out. He didn’t know anyone in Hunter Valley besides his father and Sam’s handful of friends, all of whom had already called or stopped by to check on him. And he was certain there were no women in his father’s life.

“Did she give you a name?” Daniel asked.

“No, she didn’t,” the nurse told him. She stopped in the middle of the hallway and gestured toward the end. “But she’s waiting for you in the waiting room down there.”

“Thanks,” Daniel said with some distraction as he strode in that direction.

At first, he didn’t recognize the sole occupant of the room. She was standing in profile, looking out the windows, staring at the lights of the dark and half-empty parking lot beyond. She was clearly deep in thought and unaware of his arrival, something that only intensified his confusion. He was about to speak when it finally hit him—like a two-by-four to the back of the head—who she was. It was as if thinking about her yesterday had made her suddenly appear today. Except she was supposed to be an ocean—and a lifetime—removed from here.

Marnie Roberts. Good God. What the hell was she doing here?

She had changed in the almost decade since their parting. A lot. Her hair was shorter, and dressed in tailored brown trousers and a shirt the burnt sienna of autumn leaves, she looked less like the vivid, bubbly party girl he remembered and more like a sophisticated career woman. But she’d softened the attire with a necklace and bracelet made of ribbons and beads, a bit of whimsy amid the elegance, and much more in keeping with the girlish flirt fresh out of college that he’d met in San Diego.

The minute she’d breezed into the ballroom of the Coronado Hotel as he was making his way out, Daniel had been smitten. Laughing and walk-dancing in time to the music, she’d been as effervescent as the dewy flute of champagne she’d been holding. He’d watched her as she plucked a chocolate-covered strawberry from a passing waiter and lifted it to her mouth, skimming the treat along her lower lip before taking a delicate bite. As if sensing his scrutiny, she’d glanced up just as she was sinking her teeth into the berry a second time, and her enormous eyes had widened in surprise before sparkling with laughter.

Once she’d realized she had an audience, she’d finished the fruit with an erotic flair. Her eyes never leaving his, she’d flicked the tip of her tongue against the luscious half-eaten berry before dragging it along her lip again, then sucked it softly into her mouth. Daniel had never been more aroused in his life as he watched her, and he hadn’t even known her name.

She’d fixed that problem immediately, though, doing the walk-dance thing across the room to boldly introduce herself. Her short, floaty dress was the same dark green color as her eyes, and diamond and emerald solitaires winked from her ears. They’d been triple-pierced, he remembered, and coupled with the dash of silver glitter under each eyebrow, she’d looked like a wild thing bent on mischief. At that point, Daniel had been so stressed out by the upcoming race, he’d decided a little walk on the wild side was exactly what he needed.

He’d had no idea just how long and complicated a trip it would turn out to be.

For the first time since arriving in Australia, he was conscious of his appearance, and he suddenly wished it hadn’t been thirty-six hours since he’d showered and shaved and changed into the now-disheveled jeans and oatmeal-colored sweater the Southern Hemisphere winter had demanded. Then he wondered why he cared. Marnie must hate him for the way he’d ended things in San Diego. Yeah, it had been eight years since the two of them had seen each other, and they’d both doubtless changed a lot in that time. But there were some hurts that went too deep, some hurts that people never forgot—regardless of whether they’d been the one who got hurt or the one who did the hurting.

“Marnie?” he said softly.

She turned quickly at the sound of his voice. Her lips parted for a moment, as if she were going to say something, then closed again when no words emerged. She made an effort to smile, but the gesture was clearly forced, and nothing like the smiles he remembered from San Diego, so quick and free and full of spirit.

“Daniel,” she finally said, the word coming out quiet and anxious. “How’s your father?”

Still befuddled by her sudden appearance, he spoke automatically, telling her what he’d told all of his father’s callers and visitors. “He’s groggy from his meds and spends most of his time sleeping, but he’s going to be okay. The doctor said if his progress is good, he can go home in less than a week.”

She nodded, a jerky, nervous gesture. “Good. That’s good.”

He shook his head slowly, as if that might somehow clear it of the cobwebs that were growing thicker by the moment. Of all the people in the world he might have expected to run into in Pepper Flats, Marnie Roberts wouldn’t have made the list. True, the HunterValley area rivaled California’s Sonoma Valley for tourism, and Pepper Flats was the largest of many small townships in the Upper Hunter Shire. But even though it had been founded in the mid-1800s, fewer than five thousand people called the town home. It was beautiful in warmer months, nestled among parks and nature preserves, and played host to festivals celebrating the local heritage and industries—everything from wine and Thoroughbreds to antiques and crafts. During those greener times, it was a lush, tranquil agricultural region that was home to some of New South Wales’s most prominent families.

But it was winter now, so there wasn’t much reason to visit. Add to that the fact that Pepper Flats was located two hours north of Sydney, and there was even less reason to come this time of year. For Marnie Roberts, a woman Daniel had last seen on the other side of the world eight years ago, to suddenly appear here out of nowhere…

“Marnie, what are you doing here?” he asked, unable to hide his astonishment.

She stared down at her coffee, silent for a long time. Then she looked up at him again. She opened her mouth to reply, but closed it, her gaze ricocheting off his. Finally, with clear discomfort, she said, “I’m, um, in Hunter Valley on business. I, ah…I read the article in today’s paper about Sam being shot and brought here, and I, uh…” She glanced at him again, looking strangely guilty about something, then stared down at her coffee once more. “I just…I figured you might be here, and that, ah…you know…you might welcome a familiar face.”

She looked up at Daniel again, but only held eye contact for a second. “I mean, if it were me, with my dad in the hospital in a strange place, and if someone I knew—even if I hadn’t seen them for a long time, and even if that person wasn’t a close friend—was in town, I know I’d be grateful to them for stopping by. So I…you know…stopped by.”

Wasn’t a close friend, Daniel echoed to himself. Was that really the way she felt? That he wasn’t a close friend? For months after leaving San Diego—after leaving Marnie—he’d worried she loathed him. That he’d hurt her enough that she would never forgive him. And now she was telling him she simply considered him not a close friend? Had that week meant so little to her? Had it just been one of many similar weeks she’d enjoyed? Had he been one of many men to briefly share her bed? Had it been that easy for her to consider what had happened just one of those things and move on?

And if so, why did that bother him so much? Hell, hadn’t he just been thinking of that week as little more than a walk on the wild side himself? He should be relieved she felt the way she did. It meant she hadn’t been hurt deeply by what he’d done.

And why did that bother him even more?

“I know I only met your dad the one time at the track,” she continued, glancing up again…and then looking away again. “But I liked him. He was…nice to me.”

Funny, but she made it sound as if she were surprised someone would be nice to her. Daniel had gotten the impression that week in San Diego that she had more friends than she knew what to do with. Though, now that he thought about it, she’d never had to cancel any engagements to be with him. But then, that was the way with rich society girls. They didn’t worry about who they were standing up, right? But that didn’t seem like the Marnie he remembered, either.

He pushed the thoughts away. The less he remembered about that week, the better. “You made a good impression on Dad, too,” he said. Without thinking, he added, “That wasn’t always the case with the girls I dated.”

He winced inwardly after saying it. Not just because he really hadn’t wanted to dwell on their time together, but because what he said made it sound as though Marnie had been one in a long line of meaningless women. And that wasn’t true at all.

Daniel had been so focused on building his career that he’d seldom gotten involved with any women. He’d only meant that Marnie had been the kind of woman a father liked to see his son dating. Beautiful, charming, fun-loving, rich…Sam had told Daniel after meeting Marnie that he’d be a fool to let a girl like that get away. And what had Daniel done? Hell, he’d practically thrown her away. But back then, his budding reputation and career as a trainer had been what he cared about more than anything in the world. And now…

This time he was the one to look away from Marnie. Now, he felt the same way. His career was everything to him. Always had been. Always would be. It had been a long time since he’d felt poor and insignificant and unimportant. A long time since he’d known fear and insecurity and loss. Work had saved him from all those things. Work had given him everything he’d ever wanted, everything he’d needed—social standing, money in the bank, a sense of purpose and belonging. Work would take him exactly where he wanted to go—to that Thoroughbred farm with a powerhouse reputation and his name on the letterhead. Work brought success. And success brought security. Stability. Status. Daniel would never go back to his humble beginnings again.

Never.

“Daniel, why would someone shoot your father?” Marnie asked.

He sighed heavily and scrubbed a hand through his hair, feeling way more tired than a couple of nights without decent sleep should make a man feel. “I’m still not sure about the details myself,” he told her. “There are some aspects of the shooting the police aren’t willing to discuss, and some that make no sense. And Dad’s been too out of it to say much.”

“He was shot by a neighbor?” she asked. When he looked at her again, she added, “I mean, um…That was what the article in the paper said.”

He moved his hand to the back of his neck to rub at a knot of tension. “Yeah. An elderly woman named Louisa Fairchild. They’ve been arguing over rights to a lake that joins their properties for a while now, but I never thought it would escalate to something like this. She said it was in self-defense, that my father attacked her in her home. But I just don’t believe that. My father would never do something like that. And to make matters worse,” he continued, “Louisa Fairchild wants to press charges against the man she shot, wants to send my father to jail for assault and trespassing and God knows what else. It’s nuts. She’s nuts. And here I am, wanting an eighty-year-old woman to go to jail, and feeling like a louse about it.”

“Surely everything can be straightened out,” Marnie said.

He gaped at her. “Straightened out? The woman tried to kill my father, Marnie. The only way this will get straightened out is if my father fully recovers, and she pays for her crime.”

“Daniel, I didn’t mean…” Marnie sighed, sounding as weary as he was. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to sound flippant. I’m sure everything will work out all right. What’s most important is that your father is going to be okay.”

“True,” Daniel agreed. “But I want Louisa Fairchild to pay for what she did, and I want her to stop trying to make my father out to be a criminal. The shooting was totally unprovoked. The woman is clearly crazy. But she’s adamant that the police arrest my father as soon as he’s coherent enough to understand the charges against him. And they haven’t ruled that out yet.”

Marnie opened her mouth to say something else, evidently thought better of it, and closed it again. But her expression was one of obvious distress, and Daniel immediately felt guilty for jumping down her throat.

“Look, you don’t have to apologize,” he said. “I’m the one who should apologize. I shouldn’t have gone off the way I did. That was uncalled-for.”

“It’s okay,” she told him. “I don’t blame you for feeling the way you do. I just…”

“What?” he asked.

But she only shook her head and left that statement unfinished, too.

Daniel sighed again. “I’m sorry,” he said, more calmly this time. “I’m just worried about my dad, and I haven’t gotten much sleep since the police called me, and the trip from Kentucky was grueling.”

Her lips parted in a little half smile at that, and she seemed to relax at the change of subject. “You’re living in Kentucky now?”

He nodded, equally grateful for another topic, if for no other reason than it took his mind off his father for a few minutes. “In Woodford County. I’m the senior trainer for Quest Stables. It’s owned by—”

“Jenna and Thomas Preston,” she finished for him.

The fact she knew surprised him. “You’re familiar with it?”

“Anyone who’s ever worked with horses is familiar with it,” she told him. “Maybe I wasn’t raised around Thoroughbreds, but the equestrian world isn’t exactly a big one.”

He eyed her intently. “I didn’t think you rode anymore.”

She eyed him back just as interestedly. “How did you know that?”

Oh, hell. He knew that because he’d met a woman a year or so after Del Mar who’d remembered encountering Daniel and Marnie at a restaurant there, and had remarked what a cute couple the two had made. She’d turned out to be a friend of Marnie’s mother and had mentioned that Marnie had given up riding, not just competitively, but completely. Daniel had never discovered why, because he’d manufactured an excuse to extract himself from the conversation before the woman could fill him in on any more about Marnie’s life. He’d finally reached a point by then where he wasn’t thinking about her every day and hadn’t wanted to lose ground.

For now, though, he only said, “I ran into a friend of your mother’s at a party in Ocala a while back, and she mentioned it.”

Marnie nodded, but didn’t seem to want to revisit the past any more than he did. She continued, rather hastily, “Not to mention Quest is the home of Leopold’s Legacy, who’s about to win the Triple Crown. And with a woman jockey, no less. But you didn’t train him,” she added, sounding a little surprised at that.

Maybe she didn’t ride anymore, but it was obvious she was still interested in the horse world. He shook his head. “No, the Prestons’ son Robbie trained Legacy.”

“Leopold’s Legacy is all over the news with the Belmont Stakes so close. I would have known where you were if I’d heard you were his trainer.”

And why did she sound as if she might have liked to know where he was? More to the point, why did it make him feel kind of good to think that might be the case?

Lack of sleep, he told himself. It did funny things to a person.

Which must have been the only reason he heard himself say, “Dad’s sleeping, and I haven’t eaten anything since this afternoon. Do you want to go down to the coffee shop and grab a late dinner?”

What the hell was he doing? Inviting Marnie to get a bite to eat? Thinking she’d actually accept him? Forget sleep deprivation. He was suffering from sleep delusion. Or maybe it was just as she’d said—that he was grateful to see a familiar face when he was going through such a stressful situation so far from home.

Incredibly, Marnie didn’t decline the invitation. She seemed about to, then, suddenly, she smiled. A smile that was equal parts happiness and melancholy, hope and regret. It was less the smile of the happy-go-lucky girl he’d known in San Diego, and more the smile of a wiser, more seasoned woman.

Finally, she said, “I haven’t had dinner yet, either. A bite to eat sounds good.”

What the hell was she doing?

As Marnie strode with Daniel through the halls of Elias Memorial Hospital, she asked herself that question and a dozen others. Why was she being so nice to him after the way he’d left her in Del Mar? Where was the outrage she was supposed to be feeling for the man who had dumped her? Why was she genuinely curious about what he’d been doing for the past eight years? Why didn’t she hate him? But hovering above all those questions was an even more important one: Why hadn’t she told him yet her real reason for being here?

She’d had hours on the plane between San Diego and Sydney to think about their upcoming meeting. But as she’d tried to figure out how she felt about Daniel Whittleson now and plan their inevitable meeting accordingly, she’d been inundated by memories of the past. When she’d finally landed in Australia, she’d had no plan of attack and felt more confused than when she’d left home.

Ultimately, she’d been forced to admit that she didn’t know how she felt about Daniel Whittleson now. She wasn’t the same person she’d been eight years ago. So much had happened since the last time she saw him, things that had changed her very core. Her father’s business had failed less than a year after her week with Daniel, something that had sent her family into a tailspin. Virtually overnight, Marnie had gone from rich to poor, from frivolous to serious, from party girl to working girl. There had been times during the trans-Pacific flight when she’d felt as if she didn’t know Daniel Whittleson at all. Not as the Marnie Roberts she was now.

After he’d left San Diego, she’d told herself that if she ever ran into him again, she’d be civil but cool. Show him that she’d put the past behind her and moved on, but that she didn’t quite forgive him for what he’d done. Instead, tonight, she’d been nervous and uncertain…and accommodating. She’d even accepted an invitation to join him for dinner. What was the matter with her?

But more important than any of that, she still hadn’t told him the reason she was in Hunter Valley. That was, after all, why she’d gone to the hospital. That and to inquire about Sam’s condition. She may have been unsure about many things with regard to Daniel, but there had been one decision she had made on the flight—to tell him immediately that she was working for Louisa Fairchild. And she’d thought it might be easier to talk to him if she went to see him as Marnie Roberts, an old acquaintance—for lack of a better word—instead of Marnie Roberts, representative of Division International, working on behalf of the woman who’d shot his father. She’d thought he might be more likely to listen to what she had to say in a less-confrontational atmosphere like the hospital than an office environment, or even his father’s house.

She’d worried, too, that Daniel wouldn’t agree to see her if she tried to set up an appointment as Louisa’s representative. And all right, she’d also thought that maybe by catching him off guard, he might be more amenable to a dialogue about the shooting that didn’t involve criminal charges.

What she hadn’t thought was that seeing him again would rouse all those old feelings from eight years ago. And not the bad ones like her turmoil at his panicked departure from her condo when he realized he was late for the race. Or, worse, the sickness that overcame her when she found his letter in her mailbox that evening after returning from the track to look for him—and not finding him. Those were the memories that should have risen most quickly, because those were the ones that had hurt so much.

Instead, she was remembering the good parts of that week. Like strolling hand in hand along Moonlight Beach in Encinitas. And tooling along Harbor Drive in her convertible with the top down. And licking the churro sugar from each other’s fingers on the patio at Café Coyote.

Then again, she thought as the images unrolled in her mind, thinking about those things now hurt even more than the memories of Daniel’s leaving did….

Oh, God. Just when she’d been feeling as though her life was finally settling down after years of struggle, why did Daniel have to walk back into it? He’d been the first of many things to go wrong eight years ago, and having him come back now made her feel as if she were going in circles, as if the bad times were just looping around to start over again. Only this time, she and Daniel weren’t two strangers meeting to embark on a week full of lovely experiences. This time, they were on opposite sides in a volatile situation that was bound to create bad feelings.

And this time, there wouldn’t be a second chance eight years down the road to meet and talk and perhaps find closure. Because after what Marnie was going to have to do, Daniel would never want to look at her again.