High Stakes (6 page)

“Besides,” Liam added, “maybe you’ll find somebody. We still don’t know where you went after the wedding. Is there another lady on the horizon?” Dylan’s eyes flashed with something like hurt, female-caused hurt. Pat knew all about that and recognized it in his brother.

Scowling when his phone rang, Dylan checked the ID. “I have to take this.”

Both guys sat back. “Go ahead.”

With a quick shake of his head, Dylan stood and headed to the end of the bar. Liam watched him go. “Think that’s from her?”

“Her who?”

“The one he saw after the wedding.”

“I don’t know, but I wish he’d find somebody permanent. I worry about him.”

Liam socked Pat in the arm. “I worry about you worrying about all of us.”

“My New Year’s resolution was not to.”

“Yeah, big brother, how’s that going for you?”

Not good, he thought as he watched Dylan frown. Though he spoke in low tones, Pat could tell this wasn’t an easy conversation. Huh. Maybe it
was
a woman.

The indoor race car track on the outskirts of the city was small, well kept and, best of all, warm on this snowy February day. Dylan and Hogan stood on the edge of the track, before the festivities began. The familiar sounds of purring motors and the smell of gasoline filled the air.

Beside him, his son smiled broadly. Dressed like every other teenager here, in jeans, a sweater and light coat, Hogan was happy. “This is off the chain, Dad.”

“What?”

“You know, cool. We haven’t been here in a while.”

Dylan had raced in his twenties on a much smaller scale, though there were no indoor tracks then. He’d taken Hogan out to this one a half dozen times. His son had inherited the gene for cars and speed.

“I like the outdoor speedways better, but they do a good job here.” Though there had been some scandal associated with the track’s finances, new owners had taken the arena over, and to all appearances, it was now legit. Huh! Dylan wondered if Rachel Scott was doing some investigative reporting, too, not just covering the Kids’ Day she’d called him about yesterday.

“Who we meeting?”

“A reporter friend of mine. I’m working with her.” Translated,
I’m investigating her
.

“I’m glad she told you about today.”

It had been part of the deal, that she’d let him know what new projects she was working on. At first, he hadn’t been happy yesterday when she interrupted his time with his family.

“Do I really get to come down here”—he nodded to the track in front of them—”and sit in the cars, talk to the pit bosses?”

“After the race, you do.”

“Let’s get some good seats.”

“I think she’s saving them for us.”

I’ve got a private box. Room enough for you and your son.

Though he hadn’t planned to introduce Rachel to Hogan ever, this event was too good to pass up. Anything that put that sparkle in Hogan’s eyes was.

“It’s up those stairs to the left of the bleachers.” Hogan’s gaze tracked his gesture to the sky booths, though again they were on a smaller scale than larger tracks.

“Hell, Dad, she’s got a box?”

“Watch the language.” At fourteen, Hogan swore, he knew, and so did he and his brothers’ kids, but they’d agreed to contain it as long as they could.

“Yeah, okay.”

Hogan took off to the set of stairs, ahead of Dylan, who followed at a slower pace. Rachel had told him she was in the third booth over. He was smiling, too, as he climbed up and reached the box. When they were okayed to enter, he spotted Rachel right away. Jesus, did she have to wear those tight jeans, which gloved her ass? And that hair tumbled around her shoulders, curlier than usual. He scowled. Right now, she was head-to-head with a man who was tall, wide-shouldered, with dark blond hair. Did she prefer blondes? Bigger men? Dylan was six feet, with nice shoulders, but he was lean, like a runner.

Hogan nudged him. “Where is she, Dad?”

“Over by the window. Let’s go.” They crossed the room and came up behind the duo.

“Yes, I see that, Joe. The kids are going to love it. Thanks for the heads-up. And I’ll be sure to send in that donation.”

“Anything for you, babe.”

Babe
? Christ, was she sleeping with the guy? For the first time since the night of the wedding, Dylan entertained the fact that Rachel probably had other lovers. And he was chagrined at how much he didn’t like the notion.

“Rachel?” he said in a voice that came out gravelly.

She pivoted.

He was stunned by the expression on her face when she saw him. Her green eyes lit with pleasure, and her whole visage brightened. “Dylan, I’m so glad you could come.”

Briefly, he took in her black spandex beneath a dark green, quilted vest and swallowed hard. “Thanks for having us.” He angled his head. “This is my son, Hogan.”

Rachel focused all that magnetism on his kid. “Hi, Hogan. Glad you could come.”

When Dylan glanced at Hogan, he saw that the boy was speechless and his Adam’s apple bobbed. Finally he got out, “Me, too. Um, thanks.”

She put her hand on the other man’s arm. “This is Joe Mancusi. He works for the racetrack and is in charge of today.”

The guy was too good-looking. Classic features, deep brown eyes. Young! “Hi, Hogan.” Shifting his gaze, he said, “You must be Rach’s friend. Welcome.”

Dylan responded. “I am. We appreciate the invite.”

“I’m off. I have some details to check. Hogan, I’ll see you down in the pit. Dylan, nice to meet you.”

Turning, he kissed Rachel on the cheek. “Catch you later.”

When Joe left, Rachel smiled at Hogan. “There’s food here. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, sure. What is it?”

“Ribs, corn bread. Lots of sweets.”

Hogan looked to Dylan.

“Go ahead, son.”

“I’ll walk you over.” Rachel led Hogan across the room. Yep, those jeans were gonna antagonize him all day, that was for sure.

After a few minutes, she returned alone. Again, her expression was so pleased, he didn’t get it.

I did it because I wanted to. I knew that I’d never get another chance to be with you.

For the umpteenth time, he was embarrassed to admit, Dylan wondered if she had really made love, as she repeatedly told him.

“He’s a nice kid.”

“Blinded by your beauty, I think.”

“Wow.” Now those green eyes glowed like emeralds. “Another compliment?”

He beat back a smile. “Just a statement of fact. But, thanks for having him here.”

“And you. I want you to see what I’m doing that’s good.”

“I heard you say you gave a donation.”

“Hmm. I did. And I might do a segment on this. My cameraman’s here taking footage.”

Cocking his head, Dylan asked, “A puff piece?” Now her eyes narrowed. “I don’t do puff pieces anymore.”

“Then, are you here to get the scoop? This track has had trouble. Money wise, with the backers.”

She shook her head. “I know the new owners. They’re legitimate.”

“How well?”

“How well, what?”

“Do you know the owners? You looked cozy with Mancusi.”The corners of her mouth turned up. “Are you jealous, Dylan?”

“In your dreams.” He had to get out of this one. So he turned his attention to the track down below. “Tell me how this day came about.”

She hesitated, then drew in a breath. “All right. Joe said…”

As she explained the thinking behind Kids’ Day, Dylan realized that she’d never answered his question about how close she was to the other man.

They stood just outside the track, watching the lucky kids who got to participate in Kids’ Day. Shouts of pleasure and praise accompanied each one as they raced to the pit, but Rachel was piqued at herself. Seeing Dylan, who looked damned handsome in his cashmere heather-blue sports coat and silky shirt beneath, had taken her breath away at first, and she was afraid he’d caught her reaction.

“What tack will you take with a segment on all this?” he asked from beside her.

Trying to keep her eyes focused on the field, she said, “I’m not sure yet.”

“Didn’t you come to give him good publicity?”

She faced him now. The overhead lighting made his hair glisten, and his big shoulders seemed to dwarf her. “Yes. Since I covered the scandal out here when it happened, like most reporters did, so I sort of, I don’t know, thought maybe I’d do a piece that would show some redemption for the racetrack. Their attendance is still low.”

He didn’t take his eyes off her. “So you’re using your friend to make yourself look good for me.” He smirked. “Leopards don’t change their spots, I guess.”

Temper spiked inside her. “I’m not using Joe or trying to impress you.” She stepped a little closer, but the scent of him, a bit spicy, filled her head and made her weak. She ignored it. “And you’re not filling your part of the bargain. You’re trying to antagonize me. You said you’d be nice.”

His face lost some of its ice. “That I did. You bring out the worst in me, I guess.” But then he added, “I’m sorry.”

“Okay. I don’t want our differences to ruin the day for Hogan. He seems like a nice kid.”

“He is, but he’s had some trouble…” His voice faded off. “Never mind.”

“You can tell me, Dylan.” She touched his arm. “We signed the confidentiality agreement for personal stuff.”

“His mother and I have been divorced for a decade. She was all about her career—she runs lingerie boutiques all over the country, and now has a place in Paris. Either she ignores my boy, or when she’s with him, she treats him like she treated me.”

“How?”

“I don’t want to get into that. He just got back from a visit. He’s a little rocky.”

“I’m sorry.”

Facing her, he said, “Now it’s your turn. Ever married?”

“No.”

“You’re what, thirty-five?”

“Close enough.”

“Why?”

“My sister Rebecca says it’s because I’m too…” She blushed.

“Too pretty? Too confident? Too intimidating?”

Trying to bluff her way through this, she flirted. “You think I’m all those things?

“Of course, doll. And you know you are.”

Not true. Her confidence had been bruised by how she grew up, but she wasn’t about to share that with him. She believed Dylan would honor the agreement, but she was vulnerable to her secrets. So she said flippantly, “You’re right about that.”

“Any guys in the picture now?” he asked.

From behind, she heard Hogan yell, “Hey, Dad, look what I got!”

Turning away from him, Rachel was glad for the interruption. Hogan carried an orange jersey. “All the pit guys signed this. Some of the kids got the drivers’ one, but I like these guys better.”

Rachel smiled at him. “You know, I do, too.”

“Thanks a ton for asking us, Ms. Scott. It’s been awesome!”

She was surprisingly happy to have given the experience to him. “You’re very welcome.”

Feeling too drawn to the O’Neil men, she checked her watch. “I’m afraid I have to go. My train leaves in a half hour.”

“Didn’t you drive?” Hogan asked.

“No, I don’t have a car.”

“You have a town car that carts you around.” Dylan’s brow had furrowed. “This was work.”

“My driver has a family thing today.”

“What about your cameraman.”

“Already gone.”

“We can drive you back, can’t we dad?”

“Um…”

“No, that’s okay.” She didn’t need to be with them any longer.

“You can sit in the front seat with Dad. I’ll take the little backseat. He always says we should be polite and kind to… What do you call women, Dad?”

“The fairer sex. And yes, I do say that. Ms. Scott, wanna ride with us?”

She had no choice but to accept. Damn it to hell!

Dylan pulled up to Rachel’s condo building and felt a thud in his heart as he remembered the other time he’d been here. For the entire drive, Rachel had entertained Hogan with tales of famous people she’d met and he’d responded with a zillion questions about his favorite stars. So Dylan had a lot of time to think about that night with her, to let her perfume surround him, to let himself be lulled by the sultry sway of her voice.

Maybe that was why, after he dropped Hogan off for a sleepover with Cleary and pulled in front of her condo, he shut off the engine. She didn’t get out right away. “Thanks for the ride, even if you didn’t want to give it to me.”

“That’s not true,” he lied. “I meant what I said to my son about respecting women. Taking care of them.”

“Dylan.” Her voice was a purr off her lips. “You didn’t want to give me a ride any more than I wanted to take one.”

Facing her in the small front seat of his Fiat, he watched her, backlit by streetlights. “What do you mean?”

With a disgusted look on her face, she shook her head and reached for the door handle. He clicked the security locks. When she turned back around, her eyes flashed with anger…or was that excitement? The kind he’d seen when he was at her house before.

“Tell me why.” His words were a coaxing whisper. And the air got heavy in the car.

“It’s hell sitting next to you, being so close, when I can’t touch you.”

Defenses lowered by her honesty, he gripped the steering wheel. “It’s the same for me.”

She waited a long time. Then asked, “What are we going to do about it? I’m not sure I can be with you for as long as this takes without wanting you.”

Jesus Christ, just mentioning that she wanted him made him hard in seconds. “I don’t know. I guess we could call the whole thing off. Forget about each other and the second column.”

“You know my boss won’t give me the foreign reporter’s job while the entire O’Neil family’s against me.”

He could say he didn’t give a shit. He could say that was her problem, not his, but instead, he lifted his arm, slid it across the back of her seat and snagged a lock of her hair. A curl wound around his finger. Wrong move! All over again, he felt the heavy mass spread across his stomach, like it had been their one night together. “So soft,” he murmured. “So thick and lovely.”

“Oh, God, Dylan. Don’t.” She breathed out words he could tell she didn’t mean.

He tightened his hold on her hair and tugged, causing her to lean in closer. “What are you doing?” she asked hoarsely.