All About Charming Alice (2 page)

Just before the man knocked on the door, Alice saw his eyes catch the sign pinned to the wooden framing: ROOM TO LET.

He looked amused now. Just as she’d known. He thought living out here was a great joke. She sighed. She even knew why he was knocking on her door. Wasn’t that obvious? He’d brought his dog, was about to abandon it. Yes, she knew all right. She’d seen it all before, heard all the excuses people gave when they wanted to get rid of a loyal pet. Her house was usually crammed full of these canine rejects — until she managed to wheedle folks into adopting some of them.

He knocked on the door again.

Okay, he wasn’t going away. Alice sighed again, left the parlor, went to the front door, opened it, heard its hinges groaning excruciatingly — just like the door of a fairground haunted house. She winced inwardly at the image.

She looked up and her eyes met a pair of amused and steady green ones. “Yes?” she said, keeping her voice cool, uninterested.

The man simply stared at her for a long minute, took her in with an uncompromising glance, noting her faded, shapeless, print dress that suggested anything but seduction, her pale, almost yellow eyes and the hair plaited into two, thick, old fashioned braids. Not the sort of woman he was used to, she was sure of that.

“You’re Ms. Alice Treemont?” he asked finally.

Alice nodded, almost imperceptibly. She couldn’t miss the surprise in his eyes. Surprise? What had he been expecting when he knocked on the door? A nice, elderly, grandmother type who spent endless lonely evenings knitting socks? A scrawny, suspicious old witch who only loved animals and hated human intruders? A hard-boiled, desert woman, cigarette dangling from a corner of her mouth, hair dyed tomato-red?

“I was told by a man in the gas station you take in stray dogs.”

She nodded again, still giving no smile, offering no politeness, meeting his evaluating gaze evenly, examining him in the same way he was observing her, taking him in from head to toe. But not with the same interest most women probably showed when meeting him. No, she’d keep her distance. Because, immediately, she knew he was a charmer, the sort of male women react to. His features were rugged enough to avoid his being too handsome, and his body was tight, strong looking. The type of look women adore. And they’d smile at him, try to captivate him …

Well, those weren’t the reactions he’d get from her. Certainly not. She wasn’t the sort of woman who’d appeal to him anyway. He’d go for those who were sophisticated, elegantly fashionable.

So why did his eyes linger on her lips and leave them with a burning feeling that was as strong as a caress? She fought the sensation, fought the spell of his aura.

“And since you take in dogs, I’ve brought you Killer.”

Alice crossed her long slender arms across her chest, shifted and slowly, oh-so-insolently, leaned back against the doorframe. “Just like that?” Her voice was smooth, freezer-chilly.

“Just like what?”

“Just like that, you abandon your dog?” she asked grimly.

He met her grimness coolly. “He’s not my dog.”

“He’s a cat?” Alice sneered, felt mean enough to bite.

The man sighed. “Look, I’ll start at the beginning. That way we’ll get to the end as efficiently as possible. Because I have to hit the road; I have people waiting for me.”

Yes, hadn’t she known that too? He wasn’t a man with time for sitting on a settee or for contemplation. No, the loud, busy world was the one calling out to him. She’d met his type before — many, many times. Only these days she knew enough to keep men like him far away from her life. She didn’t bother hiding her sarcasm. “Of course. I understand. You’re in a hurry. You want to dump your animal — an animal that loves you — as quickly as possible, and get on with your life. That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it?”

“No. That’s not what I’m saying. Wrong. All wrong.”

“Look at the way he’s staring at you!”

The man looked down at Killer. It was true. The dog was watching him with a soft, liquid gaze. With love … pure love.

“Calm down, Ms. Treemont. Not you — not anyone on earth — is going to put words into my mouth. Fact is, I found this dog standing in the middle of the highway about twenty miles from here. It took me half an hour to convince him to climb into my car, and another two hours trying to find out if he belongs to anyone. As far as I can tell, he doesn’t. He isn’t wearing a collar. Until I fed him what was going to be my lunch and gave him my last drop of water, he was starving. He’s skinny as hell so I reckon he’s been on the road for some time. And,” he concluded defiantly, “I was told you take in strays. So here I am. And here’s Killer.”

“He adores you! And you’re going to abandon him.”

“This is exactly the sort of situation I don’t need,” the man muttered wearily. “I thought I’d do my duty, hand the animal to someone competent enough to take care of it. And now I’m being accused of lying!” He was starting to look irritated and his fingers twitched.

Irritated enough to grab her shoulders and shake her until she believed his story? The instant the thought crossed her mind, it astounded her. Not because she felt afraid. But because, strangely enough, her shoulders almost ached for his touch. What was going on? I’m going crazy, she thought to herself. Finally. The desert and isolation have finally taken their toll.

“So how do you know his name is Killer? If he’s a stray, as you claim. If you just found him.”

“I don’t know. I just thought there were certain names people give to dogs — names like Rover, Rex, Spot. Killer was more fun as a temporary handle.” He waved his hands, a gesture of hopeless amusement. Strong hands, tanned hands. Virile, somehow. Just like the man himself. Alice forced her eyes back to his face. And saw he was smiling. Faintly. Almost as if he’d caught her thoughts. She felt her cheeks redden, and hoped, desperately, he didn’t know why.

“Now do you believe me?” he asked, more softly.

“I’m trying to.” But she
did
believe him, she realized suddenly. Something in his green gaze told her he wasn’t the sort of man who lied. Or was she just being silly, allowing herself to be dazzled by that obvious charm of his? And by the resolute jaw, broad shoulders and taut muscles. She shoved thoughts of his aura and physique out of her mind.

The smile was still on his lips. “Actually, I’m not a dog person. I’ve never owned an animal in my life. My mother even refused to let me have a guinea pig when I was a kid.”

Alice felt her own lips twitching in an answering smile. She didn’t want to sympathize with him — he was too dangerous, too sexy. But here she was, just about to soften completely.

To hide her confusion, she crouched down, began stroking the dog’s head. “He doesn’t look much like a killer.” Her voice also sounded a lot softer than she wanted it to. Way too soft.

And that wasn’t all. For some reason, she wanted that man to stay. Stay right here where she was, right here on this veranda. Out here in the bleak light. Of course the very thought was ridiculous. He wanted to get away as quickly as possible, hadn’t he said just that? There wasn’t anything in his behavior that hinted — even vaguely — at anything else.

“As soft as butter.”

Alice looked up, blinked. Soft as butter? She was? Of course not! He was talking about the dog. His smile had broadened wonderfully. It was the kind of smile only really nice people seem to manage. A smile that makes resistance hightail out of the picture, pronto. She fought against its charm. “Obviously Killer adores you.” She tried to force more frost into her tone.

“Then it’s a case of one-sided love at first sight. I never saw this creature before this morning.” He raised his arm, jabbed a forefinger at the Rover parked in the dusty lane. “See those license plates? Illinois, right? Why would I drive all the way out here from Chicago — thousands of miles — to Nevada, to dump my dog?”

She had no answer to that, of course. Instead, she addressed the dog, speaking to it softly. “Hi there, Killer.”

“He’s a pretty good-looking dog,” the man conceded. “Or, at least he will be when he fattens up a little.”

“So why don’t you keep him?”

“Keep him? Keep a dog? Yeah, right. That’s all I need. Believe me, I have no space for animals in my life.” He shook his head. “No space for all the dog hair, either.”

She stood up again. “How would you know? You’ve never tried. It’s a lot more fun walking a dog than a guinea pig.”

“Look, Ms. Treemont, I probably sound like a hardhearted, self-centered, egomaniac to you. But I did care enough to bring the dog here so he’ll be taken care of. We simply have no future together.” He stopped, lifted his hands in what could have been a gesture of embarrassment. “What’ll to happen to Killer now?”

“Nothing’s going to happen to him. He seems perfectly docile. He’ll stay here with me until — and if — I find a good home for him.”

“I see.” The man’s eyes roved over the ramshackle building, taking in the peeling paint, fraying wood and sagging steps. All the things only money could repair. “Look, I’ve never brought a dog to a … to a refuge before. Can I give you some money for his upkeep?”

Money? Alice always needed money. Or fewer animals. “Don’t bother.” This was only pride speaking now. She hated anyone guessing how tight finances were.

“If you’re sure … ” He sounded doubtful.

“I’m sure,” she said coldly, and turned her attention to the dog again.

“Well … I’d better get going then.”

“Fine.” She didn’t meet his eyes. Only waited. But he didn’t move. Why was he hesitating? Why did it suddenly seem that it was less important to him to be on time for his appointment? As if he were only searching around for something to say. A reason to tarry. That was something she’d like. Too much. Beautiful green eyes. And a soft, sensual mouth that broke up the harsher planes of his strong jaw.

She felt something elemental in her stirring — a primitive recognition of his masculinity — as if every nerve in her body had become supremely aware of him. Perhaps she could even keep him here — only for a little while, of course. Invite him in for a cup of coffee …

No
. That was something she couldn’t do. Not if she knew what was good for her. She forced back the feelings, fought their intensity. She knew what this was, all right: raw sexual attraction. In this case, one-sided. Lust for a passing stranger? Ridiculous.

He was saying something now … what? She forced herself to concentrate.

“Thanks for taking Killer in, Ms. Treemont.”

She nodded, but didn’t trust herself to speak.

The porch steps creaked wearily as he went down them. Unable to resist, she watched him cross the yard, open the door of his Land Rover. Climb inside. The engine started and, after a brief wave, he slowly drove back down the track.

Alice continued standing on the porch, watching the car disappear through the dust. Gone.

“You’d better say good riddance,” she said to Killer who was also observing the departure. “No decent human being would abandon a friend just like that!”

But Killer didn’t seem to be the least bit distressed now that the man was gone. He simply looked up at her and wagged his tail. He was perfectly happy.

“I must say, Killer, you seem to have a real talent for love at first sight.” Not like her. Love at first sight? No way.

• • •

“Good looking man you were talking to out there.” Pa Handy was lounging in the dark hallway, the wrench still clutched in his hand, his half-moon eyes shimmering slyly.

Alice closed the front door behind her. “Didn’t notice,” she said, as briefly as possible. And she shrugged — just to indicate to Pa that such things were far beyond her sphere of interest. That she had no time for tight, tugging reactions. For the thoughts about how she’d really wanted to behave with that man. Thank goodness he was gone and would never come this way again. She didn’t need trouble lounging on her front porch. And she didn’t have any place for upheaval in her well-planned, well-ordered life.

“You didn’t notice that he was good looking, eh?” Pa’s grin oozed from ear to ear, “Well, I was looking out the window and I saw he sure noticed you.”

Alice gaped at Pa for a split second while her mind whizzed indignantly. “You were what?”

“Looking out the window. Watching you both. Eavesdropping.” Pa wasn’t the least flustered. In fact, he looked mighty pleased with himself.

“As if spying on people is the most natural thing in the world. You should be ashamed.” Alice tried to sound as chastising as she could, although, in reality, she adored Pa.

“I’m an old geezer,” Pa nodded, not in the least offended. “Don’t have enough time left in my life for shame. Yep, he liked you all right. And that’s one good looking dog.” He evaluated Killer. “Skinny as hell, though.” He looked up with the twinkle still in his eyes. “Just about as skinny as you are, woman. Both of you need to get some meat on your bones.”

Alice glared at the elderly man sourly. “And you need to get some meat
off
your bones.”

Pa didn’t take offense. He never did. He only chuckled. “Oh I don’t know about that. Seems to me a man my age has earned the right to a big belly. Besides … ” He was looking as sly as the boa constrictor that had swallowed an elephant whole. “I’m not aiming to please anyone.”

“Neither am I!” It was more an explosion than anything else.

“It wouldn’t hurt if you did. That’s what everyone says.”

Alice rolled her eyes in exasperation. Oh, for heaven’s sake! Did every single citizen in Blake’s Folly spend their time gossiping about her, suggesting she needed a man in her bed?

And what about Mr. Green Eyes, himself? Mr. Oh-So-Sure-Of-Himself. Did he also think she was just a frustrated, lonely woman ready to snatch at the first pretty thing that came her way? Is that why he had looked her over in that appraising way? How humiliating. Well, she’d managed to get rid of him quickly enough, that was for sure. Now all she had to do was get rid of nosy, interfering Pa.

“Let’s get back to the water heater.”

“Sure, I can fix it all right. But not today, Alice. Nor tomorrow, neither.” He raised his left hand, held out a grayish coil. “I need to order a new one of these little thingamajigs and heaven only knows when that’ll get here. The world forgets folk exist in these parts when it comes to deliveries.”