Читать книгу Standing Outside The Fire - Sara Orwig - Страница 7

“How did this happen to me?” Boone Devlin wondered for the hundredth time as he climbed out of his rental car.

It was an hour from midnight, the seventh of July, and the glistening asphalt parking lot of the swank San Antonio hotel was deserted. Boone strode across it, dodging puddles from the night’s rain.

Summer lightning streaked through the sky and was gone, plunging the Texas night back into darkness. He walked briskly, still in shock over his inheritance of a nationally famous quarter horse ranch and over a million dollars. He was in town to meet the manager of the ranch and to break the news that he intended to sell it. He was interested only in funding his new air charter service. With the money from the sale of the ranch, he could foresee endless possibilities for his business.

The staccato click of heels caught Boone’s attention, and he caught sight of a shapely female a few yards ahead who hurried toward the hotel. As his gaze ran appreciatively over her form, a man stepped out of the shadows and accosted her.

Boone couldn’t hear the man’s words, but she shook her head and snapped an emphatic no as she strode past him. The intruder fell into step beside her and continued speaking in a low voice. Abruptly, the woman veered away from him. When she did, the man reached out and grabbed her arm.

Clenching his fists, Boone sprinted toward them.

Already the woman had reacted, stomping her heel on the man’s instep. Then, she slapped him hard over the ear and shoved him away.

“No!” she exclaimed again loudly, and while the man staggered, she rushed into the hotel.

Boone chuckled, and the man spun around. “What’s so damn funny?” he snarled, starting toward Boone. The guy was ready to take out his anger on someone.

Boone clenched his fists and spread his feet. “You want some more?” he asked softly. He stood close enough now that he could face the man squarely.

Lightning flashed, and they stared at each other, eye to eye.

The man’s chest expanded while he inhaled. Turning, he hurried away, disappearing into the shadows.

Boone sauntered into the hotel’s elegant, deserted lobby that had leather chairs grouped around polished mahogany tables centered with vases of flowers. He strolled to the desk and checked in. When he went to the elevators, the woman from the parking lot was still there, and they entered the same elevator.

Boone had only seen her in the dark parking lot. Now, in the bright lights of the elevator, she stole his breath. His gaze skimmed over a figure that was usually found only in men’s dreams. Her emerald-green sleeveless dress revealed lush curves and a tiny waist. Her slender arms had well-toned muscles, and he guessed that she worked out regularly. Especially since that display in the parking lot.

Her full red lips conjured up his curiosity about how they would taste and feel beneath his own. He glanced at her long, slender fingers and noted she wore no wedding ring. She was looking down, adjusting her purse strap. The thick curtain of silky shoulder-length red hair fell forward, hiding her face. She raised her head and he gazed into the greenest eyes he had ever seen.

Thickly lashed, her cat eyes mesmerized and enticed. They were cool, icy green, full of mystery and mischief and hints of sensual pleasure. She met his gaze with her own direct, self-assured stare.

“I was going to come to your rescue out there in the parking lot,” Boone told her, “until I saw I wasn’t needed.”

“Thanks, anyway,” she replied in a throaty voice.

“Would you like to go downstairs and have a drink?” he asked, hoping to prolong their time together.

She smiled briefly at him. “Thank you. Actually, I was going back downstairs. I haven’t had dinner tonight so I’m going to eat not drink.”

“Fine. I just got into town. Let me take you to dinner to celebrate.”

Her eyebrow arched. “Celebrate what? Your getting into town?”

He grinned. “No, you fending off that guy. You were cool, collected and efficient. It was impressive.”

“Thanks.” The elevator doors opened. “Maybe I’ll see you in the restaurant,” she offered, and the doors closed behind her.

“Yes, you will,” Boone replied quietly. He rode to his floor, hurried to his room to deposit his flight bag, wash up and comb his wavy brown hair.

Downstairs in the restaurant, he got a table beside a window that overlooked the deserted swimming pool. In the red-carpeted restaurant the lights were low and, because of the late hour, the room was almost deserted. While he sat and waited, he could hear live music from the lounge.

Less than five minutes later, she walked through the door, and his pulse skipped a beat. When he stood and waved to her, she hesitated, but then she smiled and crossed the room toward him, moving past the tables draped with white linen cloths.

He watched the easy sway of her hips, and his temperature rose another notch.

“You don’t give up easily, either, do you?” she demanded.

“No, but I’m not going to coerce you into eating with me. You’ll have to admit, it’ll be far more entertaining than if we eat alone.”

“And you don’t lack in confidence,” she added, sounding amused.

“That was fact not confidence. I know I’ll have a better time eating with you instead of alone.” He pulled out a chair.

“I don’t usually let guys pick me up,” she told him, “and I don’t usually have dinner with strangers. For all I know, you’re married.”

“I’m not picking you up—this isn’t a date,” he said as she sat down. “And I’ve never been married, not married now, not going to be.”

“A free spirit?”

“Exactly.” He walked around to his chair to sit and face her. “Besides, we’re not strangers now. We’ve known each other almost a whole half hour.” He held out his hand. “I’m B—”

She shook her head. “No names. Let’s keep this impersonal.”

“You don’t want to know my name?”

“No, because we won’t see each other again after this night. When dinner is over we’ll go our separate ways. I’ll feel much better about it.”

He cocked his head. “Want to make a bet? I’ll bet you that before we part, you’ll tell me your name. In the meantime, I’ll just call you Red.”

Smiling, she nodded while her green eyes twinkled. “All right, I’ll take that bet. Winner gets what?”

“What would you like if you win?” he challenged, knowing what he would like to claim as his prize, but also knowing he couldn’t tell her that now. Another loud clap of thunder boomed and crackled through the hotel. “What would you like if you win? Name something,” he urged her.

She gazed past him and pursed her lips in thought. Boone had to fight the temptation to lean across the table and touch his lips to hers. Finally her gaze returned to him. “I’m a chocoholic. If I win, you get me a chocolate dessert, or if they don’t have one, a candy bar. I know the gift shop will have them.”

“Fine with me,” he replied.

“Now, if you win, what do you want? You better keep the prize simple and impersonal,” she warned in a no-nonsense tone.

“That you tell me four facts about yourself—in addition to the ones I figure out on my own.”

He received another smile. “If you’re trying to figure me out, I can save you the trouble. I’m an ordinary person who leads an ordinary life.”

“I don’t think so. Four new facts, right?”

“That’s an easy one. All right. I’ll take that bet and enjoy my chocolate.”

“Tonight we can have a double celebration.”

“This ought to be a good one—what else will we celebrate?” Outside, lightning flashed, and then was gone.

“My having dinner with one of the prettiest women in Texas, and that’s saying a lot. Since Texas women are usually gorgeous.”

She laughed and shook her head. “That’s a little thick!”

“There! Your smile is absolute proof. You have a dimple, even, white teeth, a smile that would set any man’s pulse racing, plus those big green eyes…” He paused when a waiter arrived to pour glasses of water for each of them.

Boone ordered white wine, yet all the time he was ordering, he was watching the woman and thinking about her. He had meant every word he’d said to her. Besides being capable and keeping a cool head in a scary situation, she was stunning and sexy—a combination to heat his blood to boiling. And he had the feeling that she was merely tolerating him. He could get some response from her, but it was slight and guarded, a rarity in his dealings with women.

As soon as the waiter left, Boone leaned forward. “Where was I? Big, green eyes, luscious red lips, fiery red hair,” he said, catching a lock of her hair in his fingers. It was silky soft.

“Who were you telling all this to last night?” she asked, tugging her hair away from him. Though she was being flippant, there was no mistaking a chemistry sparking between them.

“I could deny telling anyone, but I don’t think you’d believe me. The way you decked that guy in the parking lot says a lot about your personality.”

“Am I supposed to ask you what you think my personality is like?” she asked with amusement in her eyes.

“I think you’re practical. No frills. Intelligent and cool and confident. You’re laughing at my compliments, which means you are self-assured and don’t need to hear compliments. You can laugh at yourself and don’t believe you are one of the most gorgeous women in Texas, though you should.”

“Hardly! That’s a real stretch.” She laughed, and he wondered how many men had succumbed to that irresistible smile. “I’ve never won a beauty contest in my life.”

“How many have you entered?” he countered.

“None,” she admitted.

“And I’m right in my assessment otherwise—will you agree with that?”

Her lips firmed as she seemed to give his question thought before she nodded. “I’d say that I am practical and no frills. Intelligent—I hope reasonably so, but maybe I’m not showing a whole lot of sense eating dinner with a stranger. To my credit, when we finish dinner, I will go to my room and you will go to yours. And you won’t accompany me to mine. You won’t know which room it is. You won’t even know who I am. Let’s keep the evening impersonal. I’ll feel safer that way. I carry a cell phone and can call for help at any time. As for cool and confident—most of the time. Not always. It’s a fairly accurate assessment.”

“So is the part about you being gorgeous.” He leaned back as the waiter brought a bottle of wine, opened it and let Boone approve before pouring. The pale liquid half filled the glasses and then the white-coated waiter set the bottle in a bucket of ice and placed ornate red menus in front of each of them before he left.

As soon as they were alone, Boone lifted his glass. “Here’s to you for handling a bad situation with great aplomb.” He touched his glass to hers with a faint clink, and then gazing into her eyes, took a sip of his wine. The pale, dry wine went down smoothly while excitement hummed in him like an idling engine.

As she sipped and lowered her glass, thunder boomed.

“We may have just beaten the rain here,” he observed.

“They’ve had two inches today already,” she replied, looking outside and sounding as if she had forgotten him.

“How do you know that?” He was curious about her, wanting to know everything possible and wanting a date.

“The desk clerk told me.”

While she talked, Boone caught her hand in his and felt a current zing over his nerves when he touched her. Her skin was soft and smooth. “I don’t see an engagement or wedding ring.”

“No, you don’t,” she replied with a faint smile. She looked outside again as if the matter held her attention more than Boone.

“And the way you said that, I suspect there is no steady boyfriend.”

“You’re right again. Maybe you should earn a living as a clairvoyant.”

“I’m a good—guesser,” he said, giving another innuendo to the last word, and she arched her eyebrows. “And another toast to a gorgeous redhead I’ll always remember.”

She moved her hand away as he touched her glass again. “Always being until the next pretty woman crosses your path.”

“Not so. I’m not going to forget you and—” he leaned forward again and lowered his voice “—I hope before the night is over, I can see to it that you will always remember me.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so, but you can tell yourself that I will. When we go our separate ways, dinner tonight will be a brief and soon forgotten interlude.”

“I intend to see that it isn’t,” he said, intrigued more by her each minute. “So, I’ve given you a personality appraisal. Now, you give me one. I’m curious what you think about me and what you think I’m like.”

“Self-centered,” she answered lightly.

“Ouch! All I’ve talked about is you—where do you get this self-centered stuff?”

Her eyes twinkled. “You’re aware of yourself. You’re totally confident, determined, not a little arrogant, and in some ways, charming.”

“I’m glad you threw in the last or I’d think I’d better get up and move to another table and stop imposing on you. ‘In some ways, charming?’ How so?”

“You know you’re charming to females,” she replied firmly. “You do not need compliments. You didn’t get so self-confident by being turned down.”

While she looked at the menu, Boone studied his. “How about the steaks?” he asked her, and she nodded.

“A steak sounds delicious. Actually, I missed lunch and had only a tiny breakfast this morning, so a steak would be wonderful.”

In minutes the waiter returned and took their orders, leaving and coming back with a thick loaf of fresh bread on a wooden plank.

“You slice the bread,” Boone suggested. “I’d mangle it.”

He watched her slender fingers deftly cut two slices and offer him one.

He put a slice on his bread plate, but he was far more interested in talking to her than he was in eating. She had taken only a few sips of wine when he started to refill her glass.

“Thanks, I don’t need more. Actually, I think this is the first wine—or any alcoholic drink I’ve had—since Christmas.”

“Christmas! Do you ever get out of the house?”

She laughed. “Yes, I get out of the house.”

“Since Christmas, I think you can have a tiny refill,” he said, looking at her questioningly.

She took a deep breath as she appeared to reconsider, and then she nodded. “I suppose. This has been a horrendous day.”

“Uh-oh. I hope it took a definite turn for the better about half an hour ago.” He refilled her glass and put the bottle in the ice bucket. “What happened that was so terrible?”

“I was at a business meeting,” she said, and her voice became brisk as she stared past him. “Someone on the way to the meeting was in a terrible car crash and is in intensive care now and that put a damper on the day.”

“That’s tough. Sorry. Was it someone you knew?”

“Yes, but not well. And then my flight home today was delayed by storms, and we sat on the runway for three hours.”

“You have had a bad day. Plus the guy in the parking lot. Well, the bad part is over, and I’ll do my damnedest to cheer you up.”

“You’re doing a pretty super job of cheering me so far.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“Now I’m staying at this hotel since I couldn’t go home tonight because of the storms,” she said, sipping her wine.

“You don’t have a northern accent. Hmm—where does the pretty lady live?”

“You’re on a need-to-know basis tonight and that’s another one of those things you don’t need to know,” she said, her dimple showing.

“Maybe,” he said. She wore a delicate golden bracelet that was a chain on her right wrist. He touched it. “A gift from a boyfriend?”

“No. A gift from a friend.”

He arched his eyebrow and looked at the necklace around her slender neck. An intricate emerald cross hung on a thick golden chain. “And the necklace?” he asked, leaning forward to pick it up, his knuckles lightly brushing her throat, but he felt the contact to his toes, and from the flicker in the depths of her green eyes, he suspected that she felt something, too.

“Is your necklace from the same friend?”

“No, it isn’t. The cross is a family heirloom. Have you ever heard of Stallion Pass, Texas?”

“Yes, I have,” Boone said in a noncommittal voice, keeping his expression bland, but inwardly he was startled because she was linked to Stallion Pass, Texas, so she must live somewhere in the area. The ranch he had inherited was near Stallion Pass. Maybe he could get this mystery woman to reveal her address.

“It’s a small Texas town near here.” He continued to turn the necklace in his hand, lightly brushing her throat with his knuckles. Each contact was electric, and he noticed that her voice had grown more breathless. He looked into her eyes and could feel the tension between them increase as the air sparked around them.

In a primitive, sexual way, she was responding to his light touches and his outrageous flirting.

“Do you know the legend of Stallion Pass?” she persisted.

“Something about a horse—I don’t know the specifics,” Boone said, remembering that his friend Jonah Whitewolf had received a white stallion when he got married. There was talk about the legend, but Boone hadn’t paid close attention at the time because he had little interest in horses or legends.

“The name comes from an old legend,” she explained, “where it was said that an Apache warrior fell in love with a U.S. cavalryman’s daughter and persuaded her to run off and marry him. On the night the warrior was to come get her, he was killed by cavalrymen. His ghost was said to be a white stallion that forever roams these parts searching for his lost love. And according to legend, if anyone catches the stallion and tames him, that person will find true love.”

“So that’s where the town gets its name?” Boone asked, gazing steadily into her eyes while she talked. Once again, they were mere inches apart across the narrow table. He was only partially listening to her because the rest of his attention was heating in a fiery attraction that all but made the air crackle between them. As she talked, her words became more breathless and her voice lower. Her gaze never wavered from his. His only contact with her was his fist holding her necklace, yet the longing to kiss her was multiplying exponentially.

“Right,” she replied, her words slowing. “There have been wild white stallions in these parts off and on through the years, so their presence has always fueled the legend.”

He ran his fingers over the cross. “So where does this cross come in?”

“The maiden was brokenhearted to learn of her warrior’s death. Instead of marrying a man selected by her father, she entered a convent. According to our family history, this was her necklace and it has been passed down through the years. We are supposed to be descended from her family. She had a brother who married and had children and the necklace was passed down in that manner.”

“Giving credence—somewhat—to the old legend.”

As she talked, he ran his fingers over the cross and felt an inscription on the back. He turned it over in his hand. And read, “Bryony.” He looked up in question, rubbing her jaw lightly with his knuckles while he continued to hold the cross in his hand.

“So your name isn’t Bryony?” he asked.

“No, it’s not. Bryony was her name.”

The waiter approached bearing their salads, and Boone leaned back, dropping her necklace and brushing his knuckles across her collarbone when he did so.

Over tossed green salads, Boone said, “You’re a Texan and maybe you live in Austin.”

When she gave him a mysterious smile, he knew he wasn’t going to get affirmation or denial. “You know this area if you’re familiar with Stallion Pass and you couldn’t get home because of storms. It’s clear to the north because I flew in from there, but they’ve had storms moving through from west to east, so I’m guessing you must live in Austin and have to spend tonight here.”

“And you’re from…?” she asked.

“Near Kansas City,” he replied, amused that she was trying to keep the conversation off herself. “I’ll guess you work in television, in front of the cameras in some manner,” he continued.

“You think so? This salad is delicious.”

“Yes. If you were a singer or movie star or famous model, I’d recognize you. It must be television. You’re far too pretty to be stuck back behind stacks of ledgers figuring out payrolls.”

“That’s ridiculous! You think I can’t do that? You think there aren’t some pretty bookkeepers out there?” she asked, her eyebrows arching while she sounded mildly indignant.

“There may be gorgeous bookkeepers out there, and I’m sure you could do whatever you set your mind to—I’ve already glimpsed you taking charge—I just don’t think that’s what you do. I think you’re in television. An anchorwoman, weatherperson. You do some kind of show.”

“You’re not ever going to know,” she said softly, leaning toward him with a twinkle in her eyes. “I will win our bet.”

His pulse jumped again because she was giving him another challenge.

“We’ll see. In the meantime, let’s see what you will tell me about yourself. Brothers or sisters?”

“One sister who is divorced and lives in California and is a bookkeeper and is very pretty.”

He grinned. “Okay, I walked into that one, but I said that there could be pretty bookkeepers, I just don’t think you’re one. Will you tell me her name?”

“Mary. Plain and simple. She’s an older sister. You’re probably an only child or the only male with sisters.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You look like a man accustomed to getting his way from early childhood. And especially getting his way with females.”

“Why would you think I’d get my way with females in particular?” he persisted, enjoying flirting with her.

“You know full well the effect you have most of the time on females.”

“Most of the time—that means this isn’t one of them.”

She shrugged, but the sparkle was still in her eyes, and he suspected she was enjoying the flirting more than she was willing to admit. “It’s interesting to eat with you tonight, and I’ve had a long, tedious day,” she said.

“Interesting. On a score of one to ten, I’d say ‘interesting’ is a five.”

“Interesting is fun. And a five is good,” she replied.

“Dang!” he exclaimed, mildly annoyed. “‘Fun’ and ‘good’ are not how I want to be known. Those are two bland descriptions if I ever heard any! I’ll have to remedy the way the evening is going.” A roll of thunder gave them both pause, and she looked out the window.

“Look at the rain!” she exclaimed. For the first time she sounded sincerely upset, and a slight frown creased her forehead. As rain drummed against the windows and water streamed down the glass in rivulets, Boone glanced at the swimming pool. Glittering bubbles popped up where raindrops hit.

“Sorry,” he said. “You’ll get home tomorrow morning, I’m sure. This will clear off and move on.”

She bit her lower lip, and he stared, wanting to feel her full lips against his, wanting to kiss her. Her attention swung back to him and she blinked, and he guessed that briefly, she had forgotten him. Few times in his life had he had women forget, ignore or rebuff him, and the unique experience was both a challenge and exasperating.

The waiter brought their steaks and hot, baked potatoes sprinkled with chives. Then he uncorked a bottle of red wine that Boone had ordered to go with the steaks and filled new glasses.

As they cut into the juicy meat, thunder rattled the windows and another flash of lightning tore across the sky.

“We’re getting a deluge,” she said, sounding concerned.

“It’ll pass and we’re warm and cozy, enjoying delicious steaks and an unforgettable evening.”

“It’s going to be unforgettable, all right.”

He reached over to take her hand, and her eyes flew wide as she looked at him.

“You can’t do anything about the rain, and it will go away. No Noah’s Ark needed here. Enjoy your dinner and let go of the worries. Let’s have another toast.” He released her hand and picked up his wineglass. “Here’s to sunshine in the morning and excitement tonight.”

She picked up her wine to sip. “I think I’m getting woozy from the wine.”

“The steak dinner will take away the effects of the wine. Enjoy yourself and forget the cares of the day.”

“I will.” She took a bite of steak, closing her eyes as she chewed and he stared. She was one of the sexiest women he had ever known. He barely knew her—not even knowing her name, much less her phone number—and as far as she was concerned, she was going to walk out of his life and never see him again. He had no intention of letting that happen.

“This is the best steak I’ve had in a long time,” she said. “I was famished. We had peanuts on the plane, but that doesn’t do it when you’ve missed lunch, and breakfast was orange juice and coffee.”

Another clap of thunder shook the panes and lightning flashed, giving a silvery brightness to the world outside. In seconds another brilliant flash crackled and then a loud bang came from outside. Inside the restaurant, the lights flickered and went off.

“Oh, my!” she said.

“It may be temporary,” Boone stated, digging in his pocket and pulling out a small flashlight. At the same time, she removed a small flashlight from her purse and switched it on. They looked at each other and laughed as they placed the flashlights on the table.

“So we think alike on some things,” Boone said. “We each carry flashlights for emergencies.”

“Even if it’s as dark as a cave, I’m eating this steak,” she declared.

“So am I. Here comes our waiter.”

The waiter approached with a candle in a hurricane glass and Boone noticed that other waiters were bringing out candles.

“This is just a temporary power outage,” the waiter said as he moved glasses and set the candle in the center of the table. “A transformer has blown, and they hope to restore power soon. Can I get you anything else?”

“We’re fine,” Boone said, watching the white-coated man refill their wineglasses. If she was getting any kind of buzz from drinking her wine, it wasn’t apparent to him. She was as guarded about her personal life as she had been when they sat down.

He touched the flashlights. “You’re a practical person.”

“Where were we when the storm interrupted the conversation?” she asked, once again moving the conversation away from herself.

“You said you thought I was an only child or had sisters. You’re half-right,” he replied. “I have sisters and brothers. There were nine of us.”

“Wow! I’ll bet you’re the oldest.”

“That’s right and now I know better than to pursue why you think that,” he replied. “If I guess your first name, would you tell me if I’m right?”

“Of course not! We have a bet that I would tell you, not that you’d guess. Remember? I want my chocolate bar. I’ll take it up to my room and curl up in bed with it and read and listen to the rain,” she said, sipping her red wine.

“I can think of some other things that would be more exciting to curl up in bed with than a chocolate bar and a book.”

“I’m sure you can. You’re not a big reader, then.”

“I like to read. I just like other things to curl up in bed with.”

“So what do you like to read?”

He named his favorite authors, and she nodded about some. As conversation shifted to books, he discovered how she spent a chunk of her time.

“Here comes our waiter again,” she said.

“We expect to have electricity soon,” the white-coated man said when he paused at their table. He had a sack in his hand and produced a bottle of white wine. “Compliments of the house. We’re sorry for any inconvenience tonight because of the lights.”

“Thanks,” Boone said when the waiter returned the bottle into the sack and set it on the table.

When they finished eating, Boone had the dinners put on his room bill in spite of her protests. They talked about books a few more minutes until he took her hand. “Let’s go to the lounge. I can hear music, and we can dance.”

She inhaled and he saw a flicker of eagerness in her eyes and he knew she was debating whether or not to accept his offer. Still holding her hand, he stood and pushed away his chair. “C’mon, mystery lady. A few dances will be a pleasure. You’re safe with me.”

“I think you’re the biggest danger I’ve encountered in a long, long time,” she said softly.