Don’t Call Me Sweetheart (14 page)

“You know you were, so don’t play games with me,” Whitney
shot at him, her anger returning. “You treated me despicably, then for months
you ignored the fact that I had purchased your business.” She didn’t mention
the little fact that he had disparaged her life’s work along the way. “I have
every right to be angry at you.”

“Maybe so,” Christian agreed, stretching his long legs out
in front of him. If her name had been on the contract and he had overlooked it
in his pain of having to sell he knew she was justified at being angry at him
for not contacting her sooner. He would have been here the next day if he had
only realized. “But if you hadn’t disappeared we could have talked about it. Did
you know that I called every day for weeks, looking for you?”

“That’s easy enough to say, considering you’re hell-bent on
getting me into that bed!”

Not willing to give her the satisfaction of knowing she had
pricked his pride, Christian retaliated with practiced ease, “It was a long
plane ride. I’m hell-bent on getting any woman into that bed. You were just the
first one to happen along.”

“You nasty, son of a…”

“Now, Whitney,” he cut in. “Business associates usually don’t
talk to each other that way.”

“In the first place, we’re not business associates. Let me
point out that I own this property and you don’t. And in the second place,” Whitney
said, having trouble talking as she conjured up a mental picture of Christian
making love to another woman in the big four-poster bed, “that’s my bed and
there won’t be anyone getting into it until I say so, which won’t be until I
have a wedding band around my finger.”

“Were you hoping it would be mine?”

Whitney turned away and blinked her eyes several times to
keep the tears at bay, hoping he hadn’t noticed. If he wanted to discuss the
situation at hand, she would make sure they stuck to subjects that were
relevant and not allow herself to be sidetracked. Masking her feelings with a
false sense of bravado she looked back at Christian who was busy regarding her
with a lazy smile twitching his sensuous lips, one eyebrow cocked as he dared
to continue playing his war of words. He was obviously unaware of how close she
had come to losing her composure when he had asked his casually worded
question.

“I’ve never thought about you like that.”

“Liar.”

“Oh.” The one word said he quite clearly didn’t believe her.

Whitney closed her eyes for a moment to settle her nerves.
Maybe he would go away if they discussed the situation at hand. When she opened
her eyes, Christian was regarding her with a lazy smile twitching his sensuous
lips, one eyebrow cocked as he dared her to continue playing the war of words.

“You obviously started out wanting to talk about the sale,
so let’s get on with it.”

“You’re sure you won’t run away again if I hurt your
feelings?” His teasing barb struck a nerve. He was the reason Whitney had left
New York in the first place, the reason she had committed herself to changing
her entire outlook on life. She’d never run away from men like him again. She
didn’t have to anymore.

“I’m not going anywhere but you are. I want you to get your
things out of my room and my house before I have you arrested for trespassing!”
Whitney had been willing to have an adult conversation with the man but if he
meant to insult her instead she was perfectly happy to give as good as she got.

“This is my house, in case you’ve forgotten that little
detail, woman! You can’t keep it unless I’m unable to comply with the buyback
clause.”

Whitney wished he would stop calling her “woman” all the
time. “I doubt you have what it takes to buy it back on the anniversary date.” She
really had no idea whether he did or didn’t but she wasn’t going to let him
know that. “Until then, it’s mine free and clear and there’s nothing you can
say to change the situation!” She paused and tipped her head to the side as she
regarded him with steely eyes. “I wonder, do you have what it takes?”

“Are you asking me to show you?”

Whitney instantly blushed at the sexual insinuation,
remembering the feel of the hard bulge pressed against her belly earlier. In
that respect she was well aware that he had everything they both needed.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” she snapped.

“Then you’ll have your answer in March won’t you? We’ll see
who’s packing their bags then. In the meantime,” Christian continued, refusing
to let her dictate to him in his own home, “I suggest you get your gorgeous
little butt busy moving into another room because I’m not budging. When I
choose to share my room with a woman, it will be with a sweeter tempered one!”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Whitney couldn’t believe he
actually expected her to vacate the proprietor’s wing for his convenience. “These
are my rooms and I’m not leaving!”

“You are.”

“I’m not,” Whitney responded stubbornly, lifting her chin in
defiance.

“I can see your changes included losing any semblance of
common sense you may have once possessed. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll
be gone when I get back,” Christian warned her as he rose to his full height
and stretched his arms above his head lazily.

“And if you’re going somewhere, you don’t need to bother
coming back!” Whitney retorted boldly.

“I wouldn’t want to leave you pining away for me. Again,” he
commented confidently as he jerked his coat on and stepped to the door. The
look he shot in her direction told her he was referring to her earlier behavior
in the bathroom and she felt her face flush scarlet. “Just make sure you do as
you’re told.”

With that he turned and disappeared from sight, leaving
Whitney frustrated, furious and totally resistant to his audacity. Leave? Just
because he told her to? The man must be joking because nothing could be further
from her mind!

The sound of the front door slamming propelled her into
action and with great relish, Whitney gathered the bags that Christian had
deposited near the sitting room door and threw them down the stairs, not caring
that they marred the paint on the trip down. “I hope you trip and break your
neck on those if you try to come up here again,” she mumbled to herself, hoping
desperately that he wouldn’t return at all.

That done, she closed the door firmly and turned the lock
knowing it wouldn’t keep him out for long. Still not feeling safe she looked
around and found a straight backed chair which she wedged tightly under the
doorknob as an extra precaution against Christian’s unwanted presence. At last
she heaved a sigh of relief. Even with a key he wouldn’t be disturbing her
again tonight! And in the morning they could try again to discuss the situation
calmly and rationally. She hoped.

An hour passed quietly, then another and finally Whitney removed
her clothes and put on a long filmy nightgown before crawling into bed
exhausted. Tomorrow would be soon enough to deal with her prodigal problem.

Unfortunately she had forgotten the sliding glass door
leading to her private summer porch. Christian didn’t. Upon his return from
informing the Walstens that he was back permanently and assuring them that he
had made arrangements for his accommodations this first night, he had found his
suitcases piled unceremoniously at the bottom of the stairs. Irrefutable proof
that Whitney meant what she said. He wasted little time making use of the
alternate entrance. The flight of wooden steps leading to the porch from below
had been an afterthought but one that stood him in good stead now.

In the blink of an eye Christian stood beside the bed,
watching Whitney sleep as pale moonlight bathed her perfect features with a
soft glow. She was breathtakingly beautiful and his heart swelled with longing,
wishing that their relationship wasn’t the way it was. How could he convince
her that she meant the world to him as long as she continued to be such a
firebrand? Every time she reminded him of the fact that she possessed his home
he came face to face with her deviousness and he lost control of his emotions. If
they kept this up he’d never find a way to reveal his true feelings. Not that
he held out much hope that she would return his love. He certainly hadn’t given
her any reason to feel anything for him other than the animosity that he was
coming to expect.

Knowing that it would only serve to further rankle Whitney
but unwilling to let her have the upper hand in a situation he knew was of his
own making Christian shed his clothes and slid between the sheets, keenly aware
of the luscious woman lying next to him. His vow not to touch her again until
she asked him to do so was the only reason he was able to stop himself from
reaching out and drawing her to him. More than anything he wanted to kiss away
the heated words that always seemed to be between them, soothe the hurt
feelings that he knew he had caused. He wondered if she realized how much it
hurt knowing she had bought his home out from under him when he was most
vulnerable. Apologizing hadn’t helped much. If he could just find another way
to make her realize just how much Mountain Meadow Inn meant to him and how much
more she meant.

Christian knew he should give up and sleep on the couch, or
a chair, anywhere other than within arm’s reach of this red-haired siren but he
couldn’t make himself do it. He may have taken her on as a partner out of
desperation, but that didn’t mean she could exile him from what he considered
his. What he would always consider his.

Instead he turned on his side and picked up a strand of
silky hair and watched it curl itself around his finger as if it had a life of
its own. He lowered his head to Whitney’s, drinking in the sweet scent of her
hair, pushing himself to the brink of breaking his vow. When Whitney turned in
her sleep and snuggled innocently against his chest he caught his breath, not
wanting to disturb her, not wanting to break the magic that had delivered her
into his arms despite his intentions. As she settled back into a deep slumber,
he allowed his arm to rest across her small waist and reflected on how very
different the evening could have turned out. Sleep was a long time coming for
the weary traveler.

The morning sun streaming through the lace curtains on the
French doors to the sunporch roused Whitney from a surprisingly restful sleep. Reaching
her slim arms above her head she lazily arched her back and stretched. Her eyes
flew wide open the moment her bottom bumped into the hard masculine presence
behind her. She was instantly awake…and spitting mad. Hadn’t she had made it
perfectly clear last night who she would—and would not—share her bed with? How
dare Christian disregard her wishes so blatantly.

Without stopping to figure out how he had gotten there
Whitney was going to make sure he knew he was to leave that same way, only she’d
give him a little something to help him remember to pay closer attention to her
in the future.

Moving carefully so as not to disturb him, she slipped
quietly from the bed and padded to the bathroom where she filled her drinking
glass with ice cold water. Returning to the side of the bed where Christian lay
sprawled, sound asleep and keeping her eyes averted from his splendidly
displayed male physique, she dumped the contents of the glass triumphantly into
his peacefully sleeping face, grinning with satisfaction when he came
sputtering awake, cursing a blue streak.

“Who the hell…”

Christian furiously pushed the water out of his eyes,
swinging his head around as he tried to find the person who had foolishly
decided to start his day this way.

Whitney wisely skipped out of harm’s way after delivering
her message but she couldn’t resist asking with greatly exaggerated concern,
her sparkling green eyes wide and innocent, “Did you enjoy your morning wake up
call, sir?”

“You had best come over here and take your licks right now,
girl and save me the trouble of chasing you down. It’ll just make me madder if
I have to come and get you.”

Whitney wasn’t sure what kind of “licks” Christian had in
mind and she wasn’t going to find out. The way he was looking at her scantily
clad body through the wet strands of hair plastered to his forehead she decided
since had made her point it would be best to retreat to the dressing room until
she could face him in a more civilized manner.

“I’ll make a note of that when I have time,” she tossed
flippantly over her shoulder as she wheeled and raced across the room. She wasn’t
fast enough. He sprang from the bed in less than a heartbeat and had caught her
by the arms before she could reach the safety of the sturdy locked door.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he told her ominously before
he lowered his head and captured her lips in a leisurely kiss sure to awaken a
response within her. Much to Whitney’s chagrin it did. Of course. This time she
withstood the impulse to return his kiss a bit longer than she had been able to
yesterday, telling herself that if she didn’t do something immediately she
stood to lose more than just her dignity this fine morning. Without a second
thought she bit down on Christian’s tongue as he slipped it past the barrier of
her teeth.

“You can take that as my warning.” Whitney threw his own
words back into his scowling face.“I was pretty certain I made it clear
that I wouldn’t share my bed with anyone other than my husband!”

“I don’t particularly care what you think, or want.” Of
course that wasn’t true but she had gone and made him mad again. “If I decide
to have you, I will. If I decide to sleep in this bed, I will. Are you
beginning to get the picture?”

Christian’s cold retort, coupled with the way he was still
holding her trapped tightly against him, pushed Whitney’s anger to a higher
level. She forged blindly ahead, unwilling to give way to his overbearing
attitude even though her situation was precarious at best.

“I’m beginning to see that you are a self-centered,
egotistical, bastard and I was a fool to ever believe differently. How Tess can
stand to call you her friend is beyond comprehension. For someone named
Christian, you bear precious little resemblance to your namesake.”

Raw fury burned in the dark eyes fixed on her belligerent
expression.

“I guess you and I are the devil and his angel.” The
sardonic words slipped past a humorless smile.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m notyours and I
never will be,” Whitney whispered hoarsely.

“Don’t bet the farm on it, or maybe I should say the inn,”
Christian answered dryly, letting his hands trail sensuously up and down her
arms to torment her. He laughed when she trembled. No matter how much she
wanted to deny it, he possessed one weapon that was truly effective at dealing
with her temper.

“Ohhh…” Whitney cried in frustration, beating against his
broad chest with her small fists. “Let me go before I scream!”

“Go ahead. Scream your head off. You’re the one with the
reputation to protect. I rather enjoy watching you try to convince yourself
that you don’t want the same thing I do,” Christian goaded her.

“What is it you want, Christian?” Whitney asked scathingly.

“Right now,” he said in a more level tone of voice, “a hot
bath and some breakfast. I’m tired of your sharp tongue.” With that he abruptly
released her but not before he delivered a smart whack to her trim derriere. He
stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. She could hear him
moving about inside, helping himself to the use of her personal belongings in
lieu of his own. Was nothing she owned sacred to him?

Whitney stepped back and glanced about noting that the
suitcases had been rescued and were lined up against the wall near the door of
the bedroom as a reminder of their owner’s stubbornness. She entertained
thoughts of sabotaging their contents for a fleeting moment but she decided
against it. Christian enjoyed punishing her far too much.

With nothing else to do until she too could get into the
bathroom she climbed back onto the bed, sitting cross-legged in the middle with
the sheet pulled over her legs as she waited for Christian to finish. He took
his time, oblivious to her increasingly hard to ignore physical needs and didn’t
emerge until nearly a half-hour later. His dark hair lay damp against his
temples and he had a short towel wrapped loosely around his firm flanks,
presenting Whitney with a fine view of powerfully muscled legs. With a mocking
bow in her direction as he caught sight of her looking at him he made his way
to his luggage and pulled out a pair of khaki pants and a dark indigo denim
shirt.

Knowing she was watching, he took great delight in pulling
out a pair of men’s silk boxers. Twirling them around his index finger a few
times he jokingly called to her, “Here sweet, would you mind holding my towel
while I get into these.”

Whitney only had a moment to squeeze her eyes shut before
the damp towel landed in her lap. Well, two could play this game she decided
grimly. Slowly unfolding her long legs she rose from the bed, well aware that
she was anything but well covered by the sheer material of her nightgown.

Tossing the wet towel back to him she made her way slowly to
the bathroom without a backward glance in Christian’s direction, knowing that
his piercing black eyes were riveted to her. When she had safely closed the
door between them she removed her own clothes then cracked the door open a few
inches and dangled the wisp of a gown up and down for a moment before dropping
it to the floor. It was closely followed by her lacy panties.

“Just what I’d expect from a lady with such high virtue,”
she heard Christian say harshly from the other side of the door. But this time
it was her turn to laugh. She knew she had called his bluff.

Hearing no further comments Whitney set about finishing her
morning routine. When she was dressed she opened the door to find Christian
gone so she descended the stairs and made her way into the dining room. The
guests had already eaten as it was well after ten a.m. but she found donuts and
juice still sitting on the antique serving buffet and helped herself. She was
desperate to see Stephan. She had to tell him that Christian had returned and
was making unreasonable demands regarding her place at the inn. It went without
saying that the nature of those demands would have to remain a secret. She
could already picture the wounded look that would appear in Stephan’s soft blue
eyes if he were to find out that she had slept in the same bed with Christian.

Then there was Christian who needed to be dealt with. She
couldn’t allow him to blackmail his way into her bed again. First things first
though.

Checking with both Bette and Hannah to go over the day’s
business before heading to town, Whitney kept a wary eye out for Christian,
hoping she wouldn’t run into him. It was going to be hard enough to tell
Stephan that the man responsible for breaking her heart was back. He didn’t
need to know that he was up to his old tricks again.

In no time she pulled into town and parked in front of
Stephan’s centrally located office on Main Street. A cold wind followed her
through the front door, making her shiver beneath the warmth of her hooded
coat. Pushing the hood back she shook her hair free and asked Stephan’s new
secretary if he was busy. The matronly woman smiled knowingly and picked up the
telephone to inform her employer that a very pretty young lady was waiting to
see him if he had a free moment.

The door to Stephan’s office opened almost immediately and
the handsome lawyer crossed swiftly to Whitney, placing a gentle kiss on her
brow in greeting.

“I was just about to call you, hon. Something’s come up that
we need to discuss so why don’t you let me help you get that coat off and we’ll
go talk in my office?”

“Okay. I have some things to discuss with you too.”

Whitney slipped her arms out of the sleeves of the coat as
Stephan held it for her and made her way into the adjoining room, trying hard
not to compare the nonthreatening pressure of Stephan’s hand against the small
of her back to Christian’s fiery, demanding touch. It was impossible. Christian’s
presence was still too vivid in her mind. She tried to block out last night’s
stirring memories as she settled herself across from Stephan and tried to
concentrate instead on what he had to tell her.

“Whitney, we’ve uncovered a problem with the sale of the
inn,” Stephan began, leaning across the desk and letting his arms rest in front
of him.

Turning worried eyes to his, Whitney asked, “What are you
talking about? Everything went smoothly last March, you told me so yourself.”

“Well, I have to admit that I didn’t notice it at the time
but it seems you signed the paperwork incorrectly.” He elaborated to ease the
question registered on her face. “You didn’t use your own name. Was there some
reason you used the name Lane McLaughlin? Who is she?”

Oh my God! Whitney stared horrified at the piece of paper
Stephan had produced and placed before her. There, in her own handwriting was
the signature she was so accustomed to producing. Autographs, billings, checks,
everything required that she sign as Lane McLaughlin and out of habit she had
signed the most important document of her life the same way. The evidence
jumped out at her from the bottom edge of the paper and there, boldly scrawled
next to it, was Christian’s name.

But Christian had accused her of purchasing the inn out of
spite. If he had seen Lane McLaughlin’s name on the sales contract why wasn’t
he angry at her instead? Whitney could understand that given the way he felt
about her profession. But he wasn’t. He blamed Whitney for keeping what was
his. She pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to sort out the macabre
implications of her mistake. Nothing made any sense and her mind was in a whirl
trying to sort it all out.

“What does this mean?” she faltered, afraid she already knew
the answer to the question.

“It means that the sale isn’t legally binding. And you still
haven’t told me who Lane McLaughlin is. I saw ‘Lane’ on the signature line and
assumed that you had signed it correctly. The signature resembled the name on
the mortgage although it was hard to distinguish anything other than the word
Lane. Since we had notarized the document the county registrar went ahead and
processed it. My secretary caught the error by chance yesterday when she
noticed that the name on the mortgage and the name you signed were not the
same.” Stephan leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs and waited patiently
for an answer.

“I’ve worked for her for some time but I’ve been out of
touch lately,” Whitney replied evasively, hoping he wouldn’t ask why someone
with her capital would need to work at all. “I had cause to sign papers for her
in her absence in the past and I guess I was so excited about finalizing the
sale that I didn’t realize I had reverted to old habits. Can we fix it without
bothering Mr. Dade?”

Please, God, let Stephan say yes!

“Actually, no.” Whitney’s heart sank, knowing that word of
this would give Christian all the ammunition he needed to send her packing. If
Stephan and Christian were to meet her fate would be sealed. “We’ll need to
have the paperwork redone and obtain correct signatures on the new documents,
both yours and his.”

At her crestfallen look Stephan got up and came around to
her. He stood behind the chair and laid his hands on her shoulders, kneading
the stress-tightened muscles in an attempt to reassure her.

“There’s no hurry. I received word that I need to leave
immediately, today as a matter-of-fact, for a quick trip home to Missouri to
see to a family emergency. I won’t be back for about two weeks and that should
still leave us time to contact Christian and get this all straightened out
before the anniversary of the sale on the fifteenth. We want to make sure all
our t’s are crossed and i’s are dotted on this deal before we take the next
legal step. When the year is up Christian might contest the sale and we don’t
want any slip-ups.”

“Might?” Whitney repeated weakly, still trying to grasp just
how close she was to losing the only thing she had ever possessed of real
value. But Stephan had said he would contact Christian when he returned, hadn’t
he? That must mean that he didn’t know Christian had returned last night. Whitney
felt a surge of hope. If she could just keep the two of them apart until
Stephan left town she would have two weeks to form some sort of strategy.