Читать книгу Beneath the Stetson - Джанис Мейнард, Janice Maynard - Страница 8

Two

Gil ripped his hat from his head and ran a hand across his damp brow. It was January, damn it. No reason in the world the heat and humidity should be this bad.

Bailey, on the other hand, despite wearing an unflattering suit jacket, seemed cool and collected. She watched him warily, as if he were a dangerous rattlesnake about to bite.

What she didn’t know was that he had fantasized about nibbling her...all the way from her delicate jawline to the vulnerable place where her throat disappeared inside that boring blouse. His body tightened. The woman probably had no idea that her no-nonsense clothing revved his engine. Instead of focusing on the government-employee quasi uniform, he imagined stripping it off her and baring that long, lean body to his gaze.

His sex thickened and lifted, making his jeans uncomfortably tight. With a silent curse, he stared out across the acres of land that belonged to him as far as the eye could see. Searching desperately for a diversion, he fell back on the universal topic of weather.

“Are you familiar with the Civil War general Philip Sheridan?” he asked, keeping his body half-turned to avoid embarrassing them both.

Bailey wrinkled her nose. “History wasn’t my strong suit in school, but yes...I’ve heard of him.”

“After the war, Sheridan was assigned to a post in south Texas. It’s reported he said that if he owned Texas and hell, he would rent out Texas and live in hell.”

“I’m surprised you would mention it. I thought it was heresy to insult the mother ship. All you native Texans are pretty arrogant.”

“We have reason to be...despite the heat,” he added ruefully, replacing his hat and wanting desperately to wrap this up before he pounced on her.

“So I’m to believe that everything in Texas is bigger and better?”

Shock immobilized him. Was Bailey flirting with him? Surely not. He glanced over his shoulder at her. As far as he could tell, nothing in her demeanor was the least bit sexual. Too bad. “Yes,” he said curtly. “I thought you would know that, being from Dallas.”

“I’m not from Dallas. My dad was in the army. We lived all over the world. Dallas is where I’m assigned at the moment.”

“So where do you call home?”

Seconds passed. Two, maybe three. For a brief moment he saw bleak regret in her brown-eyed gaze. “Not anywhere, really.”

Such rootlessness was hard for him to imagine. Texas was as much a part of his lifeblood as breathing. Sensing her unease with the topic, he turned to face her, at last somewhat in control of himself. “Well,” he said laconically, “at least if you weren’t born here, you came as soon as you could.”

Bailey, arms wrapped around her waist, smiled. “I guess you could say that.”

He pursed his lips. “Apparently, I have no choice about your interference. Is that what you’re telling me?” The facts of the matter still stuck in his craw.

“You’ve got it.” Though seeing him admit defeat must have pleased her, Bailey’s expression remained neutral.

“Very well. Meet me at the club at ten in the morning. I’ll show you where to get started.”

“I’m a highly trained computer specialist, Gil. I shouldn’t have to take up more than a week of your life.”

Too bad. He glanced at his watch. “Come say goodbye to Cade.”

In his office, he watched, perturbed, as once again his son lit up at seeing their visitor.

Gil’s son beamed. “I unlocked three more levels, Bailey.”

She nodded. “Good for you.”

Cade looked at his dad. “Are you gonna call her Bailey?”

“I suppose I will,” Gil admitted. “She’s going to be around for a while.”

Cade grinned charmingly. “That’s good.”

Gil pinched the boy’s ear. “Behave, brat. I don’t need your help finding women.”

Bailey’s face turned crimson, affording Gil a definite sense of satisfaction. It was fine by him if she felt uncomfortable. It was only fair. She was messing with his life from stem to stern in all sorts of ways. Not the least of which was his recalcitrant libido. The sooner she finished what she had to do and left town, the better.

* * *

Bailey arrived at the Texas Cattleman’s Club fifteen minutes early the following morning. A heat wave still held the area in an unseasonable grip. Though by no means reaching the brutal temperatures of July and August, the day was plenty warm. Which meant that the winter clothing Bailey had brought with her was stifling.

Deciding she could maintain a professional demeanor without her blazer, she stripped it off and laid it carefully in the backseat of the car. Rolling up the sleeves of her white silk blouse, she breathed a sigh of relief as she immediately felt cooler.

In all honesty, part of her warmth stemmed from the prospect of facing Gil Addison again. Gil was in the clear as far as the investigation went, but she was going to have to work with him to some extent in order to do her job. The fact that she was attracted to him complicated things.

As she approached the club, she assessed the physical features automatically. Built around 1910, the large, rambling, single-story building was constructed of dark wood and stone with a tall slate roof. For over a century, it had been an entirely male enclave. In the past couple of years, however, a handful of women had finally been admitted as official members. During her stay in Royal, Bailey had heard rumblings of discontent. Not everyone thought change was a good idea.

Despite her early arrival, Gil was waiting for her in the lobby. Guests were admitted only in the company of a member. She wondered if Gil felt he was betraying his position by bringing Bailey into the mix.

She greeted him quietly and looked around. High ceilings gave a sense of spaciousness even as dark floors and big leather-upholstered furniture created a cozy, masculine space. “Nice,” she said. “Is Cade with you?”

Gil pointed to the room just to the left of the entryway. “The old billiards room has been converted into the new day care center. I promised Cade if he behaved nicely for a couple of hours, he could join us for lunch.”

“I’d like that,” she said. “Your son is a pretty awesome kid.”

“I happen to think so.” He shoved his hands in his back pockets. Today, perhaps in deference to his position as president, he wore a tweed blazer over a white dress shirt. He hadn’t given up his jeans, however. Although Gil hadn’t worn his hat inside his own home, apparently within the walls of the club, a Stetson was de rigueur.

It wasn’t fair, Bailey thought desperately. How was she supposed to be businesslike when everything about him made her weak in the knees? Well, almost everything, she amended mentally. His arrogance was hard to take. She had come up against Gil’s bullheadedness in her initial interview with him. Pushing for answers had been like a futile military assault against well-fortified defenses.

Gil was a man accustomed to steering his own course. Though she didn’t pick up any vibes that he scoffed at the idea of a woman working in law enforcement, nevertheless she suspected he didn’t like having to cooperate.

As they walked down the hall toward Gil’s TCC office, she asked the question that she should have asked the day before. “Have you been to see Alex since he’s been found?”

Gil pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the solid oak door. Ushering Bailey inside, he nodded. “I did...but since he’s lost his memory, the visit was rather pointless. He had no clue who I was.”

“Were you close before he disappeared?”

“Close enough. Not bosom buddies, but we knew each other pretty well.”

“You probably should go see him again when you have a chance,” she said. “You never know when a face or voice might jog something loose.”

“I’ll think about it....”

She placed her purse and briefcase on a low table. She and Gil were standing in what appeared to be an outer reception area. More masculine leather furniture outfitted this small space. Someone had added a stuffy arrangement of artificial flowers, perhaps hoping to soften the ambience. But with various examples of taxidermy staring down from overhead, it was hard to imagine any woman feeling at home here.

Apparently, the office itself was through the closed door a few steps away. “I don’t want to snarl up your day,” she said. “If you don’t mind writing down the user name and password...and giving me a quick rundown of the program you use to input information, I should be able to work on my own.”

Gil smiled, genuine amusement on his face. That expression alone was enough to shock her. But the momentary appearance of an honest-to-God dimple in his tanned cheek took her aback. “Did I say something funny?”

He stepped past her to open the other door. “See for yourself.”

Expecting to discover the customary computer and printer equipment inside, she drew up short at the sight facing her. A dozen wooden file cabinets, four drawers high, lined the opposite wall. By the window, a deep bookshelf housed a collection of thick leather ledgers. Dust motes danced in a sunbeam that played across a patterned linoleum floor. A battered rolltop desk sat just to the left, its only adornment a brass placard that said President.

She held up her hands in defeat. “You can’t be serious.”

Gil leaned in the doorway, his relaxed posture in direct opposition to her own state of mind. “There’s something you need to understand, Bailey. The Texas Cattleman’s Club is an institution, certainly as much a part of Royal’s history as the churches and the mercantile or the feed store and the saloon. Men have come here for decades to get away from wives and girlfriends...to play poker and make business deals. Anyone who walks through the door as a full member has money and influence.”

“And your point?”

“Heritage and tradition are etched into the walls. The guys around here don’t like change.”

“Which is why the child care center drew so much controversy.”

“Yes. That, and the inclusion of women. So it shouldn’t come as any surprise to see how we keep records. The good old boys may have their iPads and their internet, but when it comes to the TCC, the old ways are the only ways. At least so far.”

“So there’s hope for modernization?”

“Maybe. But I can’t force it on them. It has to be a gradual process. If I’m lucky, and if I can spin it the right way, they’ll think it was their idea to begin with.”

“And it won’t hurt matters if a few of the old guard ride off into the sunset in the meantime.”

“You said it, not me. The TCC was here before I was born, and it will be here long after I’m gone. I’m under no illusions that being president gives me any real power. It’s more of an honorary title, if you want to know the truth.”

“I’m sure they think a great deal of you.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Why, Ms. Collins. Was that a compliment?”

The teasing grin caught her off guard. Apparently, dumping her in a dusty room full of nothing but file folders sweetened his mood. “I doubt you need compliments of any kind, Mr. Addison. In fact, I’m surprised your head isn’t already too big for that clichéd cowboy hat.”

“Don’t insult my hat,” he said solemnly, though his eyes were dancing. “Since I’m stuck with you for the foreseeable future, we might as well drop the formality, don’t you think?”

“Does that mean you trust me now?”

“Not for a minute,” he said promptly. “But I figure it’s my job to keep an eye on you...Bailey.”

The way he said those two syllables made her stomach curl with something that felt a lot like desire. But such an emotion was doomed to wither on the vine. Despite her unwilling host’s humor, she was not deceived. Her presence at the TCC was tolerated at best.

For a man who was innocent of any wrongdoing, Gil seemed curiously suspicious of authority. Was there something in his past that made him so? What did he have to fear from Bailey? Nothing that she could see. So perhaps it was government interference in general he hated. Not a particularly uncommon attitude, especially in this neck of the woods. But she felt the sting of his disapproval nevertheless.

Maybe in time she could prove to him that she was more than an outsider meddling in his business. She liked to think they could get to a place where he regarded her as something more than a nuisance. In a tiny corner of her heart, she wondered what it would be like if she and Gil were on the same side. If no walls between them existed. If they could be just a man and a woman. Exploring the sweet lure of attraction.

“I suppose I’d better get started,” she said, trying not to let him see the way her hands trembled and her breathing quickened at the thought of actually being on friendly terms with the sexy rancher.

“Start where?”

“Are you genuinely interested, or is that another suspicious question?”

He shrugged, straightening and running a hand across the back of his neck. “A little of both, I guess.”

She nodded, deciding not to take offense at his honesty. “My plan is to pull all the files of the people I interviewed in the initial investigation. I’ll comb through them and see if anything stands out.”

“In other words, you’re looking for a needle in a haystack.”

“Despite what television and movies would have you believe, law enforcement is seldom glamorous.”

“Why did you choose this career path?” he asked, his gaze reflecting genuine interest.

Bailey hesitated.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “None of my business.”

“No. It’s okay. I suppose I was debating how to answer that. As a teenager I would have told you I wanted to serve my country.”

“And that’s not true?”

“It is true, but I’m not the starry-eyed idealist I was back then. And I’m a little more self-aware, I think. I’ve come to understand that I do what I do because I wanted to make my father proud of me.”

“I’m sure he must be.”

She grimaced. “Not really. He wanted me to go into the military. He’s a career army guy. But that never seemed like the right fit for me, so state law enforcement was my compromise. I thought he would come around eventually, but he hasn’t.”

“Parents can be shortsighted. Do you regret your choice?”

No one had ever asked her that. Her job was fulfilling and she was good at it. But she wasn’t sure it was going to be her life’s work. “To be honest, I wanted to be a musician. I’m pretty good on the guitar and the piano. I took advantage of almost all my electives when I was in college to sign up for music courses.”

Gil stared at her. Hard. As if trying to see inside her head. “You’re an interesting person, Bailey Collins.”

She might not be the most experienced woman on the planet, but she knew when a man wanted her. The look in Gil’s eyes was unmistakable. There was enough fire and passion in his dark eyes to make her body go liquid with longing. She had felt the spark the first time they met and doggedly ignored it because he was a potential suspect.

But Gil was innocent, and the feelings were still there. If she encouraged his interest, things might get very intense during her time in Royal. The truth was, she was afraid that getting involved with someone who played a role in her investigation was unprofessional at best. Keeping a clear line between business and pleasure was not going to be easy.

She met his gaze reluctantly. “So are you, Gil. So are you.”

He jerked when she said his name. As if her utterance of that single syllable shocked him. Now the frown returned in full force. “I have things to do,” he said gruffly. “Are you all set?”

If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought he was ready to beat a hasty retreat. “I’m fine,” she said. “How long do I have before we meet Cade for lunch?”

“A couple of hours. He gets a snack at the center, so I made a reservation in the dining room for twelve-thirty. Does that work for you?”

“Of course. And will I be able to come back this afternoon and pick up where I left off?”

“Yes. Feel free to leave everything out. I’ll lock the door when we go to eat, and no one will bother your papers.”

“You’re being very accommodating all of a sudden.”

“I’ve been pretty rough on you,” he admitted, his neutral gaze hard to read. “I know you’re merely doing your job. I don’t like it, but I suppose there’s no point in shooting the messenger.”

She took a step in his direction just as he did the same. Suddenly they were nose to nose in the small office. Her hands fluttered at her sides. “Thank you, Gil. Your cooperation makes my life a lot easier.” She heard the huskiness in her voice and winced inwardly. Her eyes were level with his throat. They stood so close to each other she could see the hint of a dark beard on his firm, sculpted chin.

Without warning, Gil slid his hands beneath her hair, thumbs stroking her neck. He tipped her face up to his, their lips mere centimeters apart. His beautiful eyes teemed with turbulent emotion “You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you, Bailey Collins?”

“Why would you say that?” she asked, knowing full well what he meant but wanting to hear him admit that the attraction wasn’t one-sided.

His lips brushed hers in a caress that could barely even be called a kiss. She leaned into him, wanting more.

But straight-arrow Gil Addison was a tough man. “Women and government are always trouble. When you put both in the same package, there’s likely to be hell to pay.”