As If You Never Left Me (Crimson Romance) (3 page)

“But you’ll think about what I said?”

“Yes, I’ll think about it.”

He nodded, the smugness fading into something that looked disturbingly like relief. “That’s all I ask.”

• • •

Back at home, Joely threw her purse on the couch and sat down next to it, staring at the blank screen of her television.

The couch was definitely short. Rey was six feet tall, the couch five-and-a-half. Still, she could picture him curled up asleep on it, his big feet wedged up against one of the arms. Maybe for a few nights, just to see if they could get reacquainted, if they were still the same people they’d been seven years ago when they’d promised to love, honor and cherish.

Snorting at her own naïveté, she picked up the remote and turned on the TV. Of course they weren’t the same people. Rey had changed enough during their marriage to rip their relationship apart. And she’d changed, definitely. During their marriage and after it.

But they might still be people who could get along. Maybe even people who could love each other. Certainly the sexual attraction was still there, in a big way. It had been all she could do to keep from playing footsie with him under the table, or taking off her panties and passing them to him, as she’d done a couple of times in college.

She shook her head, disgusted at herself. Sexual attraction wasn’t enough — not even close. And it was so intense, so volatile, so consuming, that it was hard to consider anything else over the tumult it produced.

The early news predicted snow for tomorrow. An inch in Denver, which meant the mountains would probably get more. Unless it stalled elsewhere, blew over faster, or moved in an entirely different direction. Typical Colorado weather — tumultuous and unpredictable.

Apparently, that was also typical of her life.

She flipped channels absently for a few minutes, then went into the bedroom to change into her pajamas. The phone on the bedside table seemed to beckon her. She looked at it, took a step toward it, then defiantly stuck her tongue out at it.

The kitchen phone, however, wouldn’t be subdued so easily. Against her will, Joely found herself cradling the receiver against her shoulder while the other end of the line rang at the Sky Mountain Lodge.

The lodge’s proprietor answered the phone. “Hi, Virginia,” Joely said. “This is Joely. I sent someone your way about a half hour ago and I wanted to be sure he made it.”

“Oh, yes, the nice young man with the brown hair. Mr. Birch. Is he your brother?”

Joely smiled. “He’s my ex-husband. Well, not really ex. Never mind. It’s a long story.”

Virginia laughed. “It must be, if you sent him here instead of keeping him to yourself. He’s a fine one.”

“People keep telling me that.”

“Well, you let me know when you want him sent back your way. The sign on the wall says I can refuse him service at any time.”

“I’ll do that.” Joely paused, closed her eyes. Maybe the words she felt coming would stop if she concentrated hard enough. “Could you transfer me to his room?” Or maybe not.

“Sure. Just a second.”

She could always hang up now, before the call rang in Rey’s room. But the phone remained defiantly perched against her shoulder as it rang once, then twice, then half a third time. Rey’s voice broke through.

“Hello?”

She closed her eyes against the soft assault on her senses. God, that voice … “Hey, Rey. It’s me.”

A pause. “Hey, Joely.” His voice changed, softened. It sounded furry when he lowered it like that. She hadn’t forgotten that, either. The sound set her on fire, heat pouring down her abdomen, spreading over her inner thighs, melting between her legs. At least she was predictable.

“I just wanted to be sure you got settled okay.”

“I’m fine. It’s a nice lodge.”

“I know.” She hesitated, questioned her own sanity a couple of times, then said, “Let’s get together tomorrow. Lunch?”

“How about breakfast? I know how much you like to eat breakfast out.”

“Okay, but it’ll have to be early. I open the shop at nine and I like to be there by eight-thirty.”

“I’ll see you at seven. Do they serve breakfast at that diner?”

“Yes. Good breakfast. I’ll see you there.”

As she hung up the phone, she wondered where all her common sense had gone. Straight out the window, apparently. But the thought of seeing Rey tomorrow morning over a plate of pancakes made her strangely, warmly happy. It was more than just the arousal, the raw, animal response to him. There was something about him that felt like home, and that was infinitely more dangerous. This was home. She had herself, her business, her log cabin. He was just a distraction, sexy and arousing, and carrying all the baggage of her past.

Crawling into bed, she wondered if she’d responded to him the way she had because she was lonely. She should have gotten herself a dog a long time ago. Then maybe she wouldn’t be so vulnerable.

She lay awake for a long time, staring into the empty darkness. Tears pricked her eyelids and she blinked them back.

They had been so good together, when they’d worked at it. She couldn’t help remembering. Couldn’t push the images back, of their years together, of how perfect it had seemed, before it had all fallen apart.

The first time they had made love, it had seemed like they’d known each other for years. He had touched her as if he knew everything about her. His hands had coaxed things out of her she’d never known existed. Small, wanton sounds, sensations that made her weak, made her weep. She hadn’t been a virgin, but she remembered that moment almost better than she remembered the actual loss of her virginity. The sweet, deep shock of him entering her, sliding inside her. Gentle and eager at the same time, wanting to soothe her but also to possess her. He had taken her deep, physically so, but also emotionally. Nothing in her life had ever felt the way it had felt to be made love to by Reynard Birch.

She could have that again. Did she want that again? Knowing everything that could come with it?

She mushed her pillow over her face and swore into it. Damn him, anyway. It wasn’t going to be an easy choice, and she had no idea how she was going to make it.

• • •

The Sky Mountain Lodge was nicely appointed and comfortable, but it wasn’t where Rey wanted to be. He wanted to be with Joely, in her house, even wedged into her too-short couch. Preferably, though, in her bed. Better yet, inside her.

Instead, he was folding back soft sheets in a room with a rack of elk antlers on the wall above the bed. At least, he thought they were elk antlers. His knowledge of Colorado wildlife was sketchy at best.

He stretched out on the bed and closed his eyes, remembering the way Joely had looked when he’d come into her shop. Still the same tall, willowy blonde girl he’d met in college, with her short-cropped, boyish hair and wide blue eyes. Or maybe not the same, because she wasn’t a girl anymore.

He’d missed her so much. It seemed stupid now, that he had closed her out of his life over something as inconsequential as a job.

Of course, it hadn’t seemed inconsequential then. It was easy, especially in New York, for priorities to get screwed up. He’d let that happen, and he’d paid for it. Dearly.

He’d been stupid, the kind of stupid only pride could drive a man to. He’d focused on all the wrong things. Hopefully he was focused on the right things now. The most important of those being Joely.

They’d always had a special bond. From the day they’d met, sparks had ignited, and even up to the day she’d left him, a single look had been enough to fan the flames. It had been more than just the sex, too. Though the sex had been incredible. Just thinking about it made him hard. Made him want her so much, he could barely think, or see, straight.

He missed the sex, desperately. He missed everything else about her even more.

With a long sigh, he picked up his phone and turned it on, glancing over his “To Do” list. He could mark one item off — he’d gotten a good look at Joely’s pottery. He wondered how hard it would be to get some photos. Probably fairly hard, particularly since he didn’t want Joely to know he’d done it. He had to, though, to prove the case he was pursuing. He’d get in touch with his boss in the morning and give him a progress report.

He flipped the organizer closed. He was playing a complicated game here, but he didn’t see where he had much choice. As long as Joely didn’t figure out what he was up to, he’d be fine. And he’d tell her when he was ready. She’d understand. He was, after all, doing it for her. She stood to benefit a great deal from this case. And maybe it would make up in some ways for the case he’d bungled, the one that had torn them apart.

He set the organizer on the bedside table and turned off the light. As sleep claimed him, he thought not of work, but of Joely. Of her hands on his body, the way she had known how to play him like a fine instrument; fingers, teeth, and tongue, her mouth on him …

In spite of his best intentions, he lay awake for a long time. When he finally did fall asleep, he dreamed of Joely.

• • •

Rey woke the next morning with a headache and a weird, weak feeling. Getting up, he shook with chills, and the room spun around him. He swore, staggering to the bathroom. His stomach dipped and rolled.

Flu, he thought. Some lovely virus being circulated through the jet that had dropped him off in Denver. It figured. He carefully drank a glass of water, then splashed some on his face. That helped a little.

At least he didn’t look too bad, judging by his reflection in the mirror. No way was he going to back out of breakfast over some stupid microorganism. He sat back down in the bed to boot up his laptop. The letters on the screen blurred as he composed an email for his boss, saying that he had access to Joely’s boutique, and could make a more detailed report later in the week. By the time he was done, he was sweating.

Pulling up in front of the diner, he wondered if he’d made the wrong decision. He sat a moment, gathering himself. He hadn’t felt this bad in a long time. Then he caught sight of Joely walking into the diner. His stomach lurched again, only this time he was fairly certain it was arousal. It was hard to tell at this point.

“Joely!” he called, opening the car door. “Wait up.”

She paused, smiling, but the smile faded into concern as he approached. Apparently, his appearance had degraded since his last look in the mirror.

She peered into his face. “Are you okay, Rey? You don’t look so good.”

“It’s nothing. A bug or something.”

She brushed his forehead, his cheek, and he closed his eyes a moment at the touch of her hand. Sparks again, desire attempting to rise, even through his growing misery.

“You don’t have a fever.”

“I feel like I do.”

She took his hand, drawing him through the door. “Let’s sit down.”

He followed her without question, grateful to get a solid booth under him. She spoke to the waitress in an undertone while he closed his eyes again, wondering how he could be so dizzy and not have a fever. As he sat down, he realized something seemed odd about Joely. Then it registered — she’d just taken charge. She’d never done that before, not to his knowledge.

A moment later, the waitress deposited a glass of water on the table.

“Drink up,” said Joely. “And keep drinking.”

“Water?” He drank obediently, though. “Water for the flu?”

“The good news is, it’s not the flu. It’s the altitude.”

“Altitude?”

She gave him a tolerant smile that somehow managed to be affectionate at the same time. “You flew straight out from New York — which is roughly at sea level, by the way — hit 5,280 feet at the airport, then drove straight up the mountain, am I right?”

Rey swallowed water. “More or less.”

“We’re at a good eight thousand feet here, nine some places. You came up too quickly and now you’ve got altitude sickness. It happens all the time.”

He made a skeptical face. “You’re making this up, right?”

“Of course not. When you climb Everest, you have to stop for weeks for your body to adjust to the altitude. Here it takes a day or two, sometimes.”

“So what do I do?”

“Drink your water. Rest. Chances are you’ll be fine tomorrow.”

She laid her hand on his and squeezed it gently. He looked into her eyes and wished he felt good enough to kiss her. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

“You’re sure you’re not making this up?”

“Look it up on the Internet if you don’t believe me.”

He managed a weak smile and drank more water.

By the time she’d finished her pancakes and eggs — over easy, just like he remembered she liked them — and he’d inched his way through two glasses of water and a piece of dry toast, he was feeling a little better. Not better enough to catch the bill, though. Somehow, she’d paid it and signed the credit card slip before he realized it had hit the table.

“Today’s Wednesday,” she said. “Business is usually slow on Wednesdays. How about if I call Perry and tell her I’m not coming in?”

“There’s no need for that.”

“I’d feel better if somebody kept an eye on you today. Altitude sickness can be fatal, you know.”

“No way.” She had to be making this up.

“Usually just for people who decide to ski or hike a fourteener fresh off the plane, but you’ve been sitting around in an office so long, no telling how out of shape you are these days.”

Her eyes twinkled merrily at his expense. He made a face, not quite energetic enough to inform her he still worked out three times a week. Apparently, that didn’t matter up here where there was no air.

“Maybe you should nurse me back to health, then.” He had to admit the idea held appeal.

“So we’ll leave your car here and I’ll drive you back to the hotel.”

He agreed, wondering why he was so reluctant to let her take charge, to take care of him, now she had the chance. Just because it had never been that way before, he supposed. He’d always been the one doing the rescuing. Not that he’d been any good at it. So far, she was proving far better suited to the task than he’d ever been. The thought brought a pall over the more pleasant aspects of the role reversal.