Foxfire (7 page)

“No. Say whatever you came to say. Then
leave.”

Connor's eyes narrowed. A muscle jumped along
his jaw. Finally, he relaxed his stance and backed toward the car.
He leaned against the door, his feet crossed at the ankles. His
lustful gaze swept her from head to toe.

Why had she thought she could marry this
egotistical clod? She knew he'd never loved her. And, God help her,
at one time she'd been willing to settle. She'd wanted the dream
more than anything.

“You're as beautiful as ever, Grace. I miss
you.”

“Too little, too late.”

“Admit it, honey. You miss me, too. We had a
good thing going. It doesn't have to end, you know. I have a
proposition.” He waved his hand in the direction of the cabin. “We
don't have to part ways completely. We can meet here where no one
will see us. What do you say?”

Grace gritted her teeth to keep her tongue
from spitting out every curse word she'd ever learned. Connor
seemed to take her silence as a positive sign.

“I'll make it worth your while.”

That did it. “You know what, Connor? You can
take your sleazy proposal elsewhere. I'm not interested in anything
you have to offer.”

“Given your past, you should be glad I'm
still interested.”

She wanted to drive her fist into his
sneering face. Tiffany tugged, straining to break free. Connor
smiled his toothy lawyer smile and Grace was tempted to let go. She
took a step toward him with a smile pasted on her face.

Connor straightened and held out his
arms.

Good grief, he actually expected her to throw
herself into his embrace. “I'm not for sale, Connor. You've got to
the count of three to get in your car and leave. Otherwise, I turn
my dog loose.”

Tiffany lunged, and Grace's arm jerked. “Good
girl,” she said.

“You never used to be so particular.”

Fury ignited her. “You know nothing. Your
mind is a cesspool. One.”

“All right. I'm going.” Red anger suffused
his face. Connor wasn't a graceful loser, neither in nor out of the
courtroom. “But you better think over the offer. I doubt you'll
find another as generous.”

“Two.”

“And don't talk to the press. About anything!
Your little fiasco at the police station shows just how off-balance
you are. I think the media will sympathize with me when I tell them
how devastated I was to learn you're a drug addict.”

“Tell them anything you want. Your threats
can't hurt me.”

He sneered. “You don't know how powerful I
am.”

“Three.” Grace released her hold on Tiffany's
collar.

If she hadn't been so angry, she'd have
laughed at Connor's scrambling slide into the sports car. He bumped
his head against the roof. Tiffany reached the car just as the door
slammed shut. She jumped, paws clicking loudly against the window.
Then she dropped, clawing the rich paint as she slid to the
ground.

Connor revved the engine and rolled down the
window.

“I’ll make you pay for that,” he yelled.

With a growl Tiffany lunged, and the window
quickly closed. The dog trotted back to Grace, tail wagging
proudly.

Grace looked with satisfaction at the deep
scratches in the Jaguar's perfect paint job. Tires spun in the
gravel. Connor turned the car around and sped away.

When his car was out of sight, Grace laughed.
She felt victorious.

Tiffany sped off into the woods, turned and
ran back.

Grace grabbed the dog's face and leaned down
to stare into Tiffany's eyes. “Good girl. That deserves a
treat.”

Walking to the house, she fought the desire
to look over her shoulder. The hairs prickled on the back of her
neck, making her feel certain someone was watching her. Spider legs
crawled her spine, until she could stand it no longer. She spun
around.

Adam stood on the path, a solitary figure
between two overshadowing pine trees. Only the grim set of his lips
were visible beneath the lowered ball cap. The air changed as if a
huge cloud hovered above. She forced a smile.

“Hi, Adam.”

“If that man gives you any more trouble, you
just let me know.”

She stared at his shadowed face.
“Thanks.”

“We take care of our own around here.” His
lips turned up in a brief smile before he trudged up the hill
toward his house.

Grace mounted the steps and came to an abrupt
halt.

A single red rose lay on the welcome mat.

She stared at the perfect red bud, round and
plump and clinging to the end of a green thorny stem. It looked out
of place on the rough weave of the mat. She turned to look for Adam
but he was already out of sight.

Grace picked up the flower and carried it
inside and filled a glass with water. She put the lonely bloom into
its depth. Adam must have left the rose. It was too much of a
coincidence that he'd been present for the scene with Connor. Poor
Adam. He must have waited for her to return and find his gift. She
sensed his loneliness and could even empathize. Maybe she should
have dinner with him. She'd have to make him understand they could
only be friends, though. He was much too old for her, nearly old
enough to be her father, and he certainly didn't seem the romantic
type.

If Tyler gave her a rose, it would be
romantic, but coming from Adam it just seemed sad.

Grace sighed. She wanted a man who'd take
control in a wild, wonderful way. Someone who'd make her knees
knock, and fireworks explode when they kissed. She wanted a strong
man, one who was sure of himself, one not afraid to admit his love.
She wanted a man like the ones in her romance novels, one with a
broad chest, muscled arms, and a to-die-for wicked smile. She
wanted a man who'd protect her, yet respect her strength, and not
hold her past against her.

Reluctantly, she acknowledged that Tyler
looked the part. Broad shoulders, gorgeous green eyes, even if they
might not be real. But she wouldn't let him get under her skin. Not
even if he could model for the cover of one of the romance novels
she loved.

No way would she settle again. She'd rather
live the rest of her life single. She'd made a home here in Foxfire
with Brad, Harri, and Tiffany. Her family.

She didn't need a man. Grace reached for her
key ring. She would rid herself of any further contact with Connor.
With a muttered curse, she left the house and started her car.
She'd hand off the key and be finished with him forever.

Twenty minutes later, she entered his office.
Sarah, the receptionist, gaped open-mouthed at her. “Grace. I
thought…” She paused.

Grace knew Sarah had the hots for Connor.
She'd be making a play for him soon, if she hadn't already. As far
as Grace was concerned, she was welcome to him.

“Don't panic, I'm not coming back to work.”
Grace handed her the key. “Just give this to Connor.”

Sarah accepted it, a frown line appearing
between her brows.

“And tell him where I go and who I talk to is
none of his business anymore.”

Grace pushed through the door. She rounded
the corner and plowed into a man's hard chest. His hands closed
around her arms, steadying her.

“Whoa,” he said.

“I'm sorry.” She pulled free and met his
gaze. A prickle of unease skittered up her spine when she stared
into his deep-set sable eyes. The skin pulled taught on his angular
face giving it the look of an actor who'd had too many face-lifts.
The suit he wore looked expensive. Grace felt a prickle of
unfounded fear. Where had she seen this guy before? Something about
his voice and his eyes seemed vaguely familiar.

“Sorry,” she muttered, pulling free from his
grasp.

His lips turned upward in a friendly gesture,
though his eyes remained cold and hard.

It took every ounce of guts she had to step
around him and push the elevator button. The doors opened and she
stepped inside. Only after she pressed the lobby button did she
risk a glance between the closing doors. The man gave a slow wink.
Sweat beaded her forehead. She stepped aside, breathing deeply of
the suddenly stagnant air. Relief coursed through her when the
elevator began its descent.

****

Grace was sitting on the porch enjoying the
view when Tyler walked into the clearing. His polo shirt hugged his
broad shoulders, the deep green enhancing those emerald sparks in
his eyes. Much to her surprise, he wore the dirty tennis shoes he'd
had on the first night she met him.

He followed her gaze down to his feet, then
gave her a big grin. “Hey, they're comfortable and perfect for
hiking.”

“Hiking? Why didn't you drive?”

“Drive?” He looked puzzled, and then suddenly
his face lit with understanding. “I should have made myself clear.
I'm cooking steaks on the grill.” He shrugged. “I bought the
biggest rib-eyes I could find. And my homemade marinade can't be
beat.”

Oh, Lord. Trouble. Having dinner in a
restaurant was one thing, but how would she manage an entire
evening alone with him? “Oh.”

He laughed. “Don't sound so skeptical. I
promise not to poison you.”

There went that wicked smile sending
fireflies swarming through her stomach. Tyler gripped her hand and
pulled her to her feet. They walked toward the clinic. “Things are
different here, but I like the slow pace of living,” he said.

Grace smiled up at him. “That's why I moved
here. I wanted to get away from the hustle and bustle of the
city.”

“What city?”

Uh-oh. She had to watch her words. Working
with Tyler was going to pose more problems than her attraction to
him. “A not-so-nice suburb of St. Louis, Missouri. I had to learn
early how to protect myself.”

Tyler squeezed her upper arm, grinning
mischievously. “You've got a set of muscles all right.”

“Trust me, it takes more than physical
strength to survive the streets. You've got to be mentally tough
and not show any sign of fear. Otherwise, they'll chew you up.”

“They?”

“The streets.”

“Do your parents still live in Missouri?”

“I don't have a clue where my Dad is. He left
before I was born.”

“And your mother?”

“She's dead.”

“I'm sorry.” Tyler gazed compassionately down
at her.

“Don't be. She's been gone a long time.”

They finished the walk in silence and Tyler
led her up a flight of stairs to a wooden deck where heat emanated
from the gas grill beside sliding doors opening to his kitchen.

He retrieved a platter and placed the meat on
the grill. “I figured we could share with Tiffany.”

Grace laughed. “I fed her before we came. I
don't give her table scraps. You're a vet. Don't you recommend
high-priced dog food, and give lectures on the perils of people
food?”

“Nope. I believe in spoiling.”

They chatted about the proper way to raise
pets while Tyler tended the steaks.

He hadn't exaggerated. They were
mouth-wateringly perfect. Baked potatoes, salad and wine completed
the meal. When they'd cleared the dishes, they sat in chairs on the
deck. Gas torches flickered giving a romantic glow to the growing
dusk.

“How long have you lived here?” Tyler
asked.

“Three years.”

Tyler put his feet on the railing. “I think
I'm going to like it. When I was a kid, we lived in a small town
where everybody knew everybody else's business. Back then I hated
it. Couldn't wait to get away. Then after college I couldn't wait
to get back.”

“Then why did you leave? What brought you to
Foxfire?”

He winked at her. “The scenery, what else?”
He stood and leaned his elbows on the railing, gazing out into the
trees. “Even at night, it's beautiful.”

That was the second time he'd avoided
revealing the reason he'd moved to Foxfire. Harri's words came back
to her that Tyler was hiding something. But Grace shrugged it off.
Nothing about Tyler seemed threatening. Besides, everyone had
secrets to guard.

Tiffany yawned loudly.

Grace mirrored Tyler's stance, leaning over
the railing. “Did you know that sometimes you can see foxfire
glowing along the ground?”

“I thought that was a legend. It's true then?
Have you ever seen it?”

She nodded. “It's beautiful and haunting at
the same time.” His shoulder brushed hers. A shiver crawled up her
spine.

He draped an arm around her shoulders and
pulled her closer. “Are you cold? Do you want to go inside for a
while?”

His hand caressed her arm. Goosebumps arose
that had nothing at all to do with being chilled.

“I'm not cold. I love being outside. We have
one thing in common. I moved here for the mountain scenery and
serenity, too.”

He turned her to face him. “And we both love
animals. We seem to have a lot in common.” His thumbs caressed her
cheeks.

Her heart tripped faster. His nostrils did
that little flare thing again, which she found totally
sensuous.

“That's true.” Her voice came out an octave
higher than usual. She cleared her throat.

He lifted her and sat her on the railing
facing him. She placed her hands on his shoulders for balance. Her
whole body felt as if it were melting. Like the witch in The Wizard
of Oz, soon she'd be nothing but a puddle at his feet.

“So when do we see this foxfire?” he
asked.

Small talk, she told herself. Focus on the
small talk, not on his face. Not on the way the torches add
highlights to his dark hair. Not on the fact that his arms
surrounded her, resting on either side of her hips.

“Only when the moon is full and the night is
bright.”

“Ah, unlike tonight.” He gazed up at the sky
where clouds hid most of the stars.

She stared at the expanse of his neck and the
dark hairs that had escaped the neckline of his shirt. “Too
overcast,” she said.

He lowered his head and stared at her. Not
just stared but stared. The message in his eyes tapped on her
heart.