One Hit Wonderful (22 page)

“I never said that.”

“You implied it.”

He shook his head, a baffled look on his face. “What’s wrong with my trying to make you a little safer?”

“Nothing, except I don’t need you to. You’re overreacting to this break-in.”

“You’re under-reacting to it,” he countered, and sat up. “It was probably a random home invasion, but why take the chance? If they broke in once, they might do it again, and any sensible person would take reasonable precautions against that.”

“See?” She pointed a finger at him. “You just said I wasn’t sensible.”

He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t say that. I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn about this.”

“Stubborn?” She drew a deep breath and tried to slow her racing heart. “I’m stubborn?”

“Stubborn,” he confirmed. “All I’m trying to do is take a few simple precautions, and you’re flying off the handle.”

“I don’t want your precautions!”

“Tough,” he said, and folded his arms across his chest. He narrowed his eyes at her. “Let me ask you a question.”

“What?” she ground out.

“If this had happened to anyone else, would you think that adding a simple home alarm system would be overreacting?”

She opened her mouth, a retort ready to spill out, then bit it back. “Probably not.”

“Okay then. Why is it overreacting when I want to do it?”

She didn’t say anything, trapped by her own deception. She couldn’t say,
Because I already know who broke in and why
, because then he’d want to know who. Which would lead to a much larger degree of protectiveness on his part since he already had his suspicions about Max. And the truth was, a security system wasn’t an overreaction to a simple home invasion, but she was overreacting to his protective urges.

She sighed, her gaze down on the blanket. “It’s not. I just don’t like the idea of living in fear.”
There, that sounds credible.

“It’s not living in fear, it’s taking appropriate safety precautions,” he told her.

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered. “I still don’t like it.”

“At the risk of repeating myself—tough.” He softened the words with a smile. “I’m the landlord, and if I want to put in a security system—”

“You’ll put in a security system,” she finished, a grin tickling her lips in spite of herself.

“You’re cute when you’re mad,” he told her, and the rest of her anger washed away with the laughter.

“You’re a jackass,” she told him, and flopped back to lie on the blanket.

“But charming, right?” he said, leaning over her.

“Maybe mildly charming,” she allowed, and had to fight back the laugh at the affronted look on his face.

“Mildly? Mildly? You stay here,” he told her, and got to his feet. He pointed a finger at her. “Stay right here, I’ll be right back.”

She watched him stalk away, tall and strong and willing to put himself between her and danger. She sighed and turned her gaze to the sky. The stars were just beginning to wink to life, sparkling in the darkened sky like jewels.

She frowned as the thought of diamonds made her think of her earrings that hadn’t been stolen, and guilt swamped her again.

She shook it off deliberately. She wasn’t being deceitful, she reasoned, by not sharing her suspicions about Max with Nate. They were just suspicions at this point, there was nothing concrete to link Max to the break-in at her house. If she told him, it wouldn’t help anything, and it would just make his protective instincts kick into high gear.

“And they’re already in as high a gear as they need to be,” she muttered.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to him about it. It had been on the tip of her lips half a dozen times during the meal, ready to spill out, but she always pulled it back. She wanted to be sure, wanted to have something solid to link Max to the break-in before mentioning it to him.

She was a little surprised by how much she actually wanted to share it with him. She was used to doing for herself, handling all the problems and situations that cropped up in her life on her own without input from anyone else. Oh sure, her friends weighed in with their opinions just as she did when one of them had problems, but they didn’t actually have a vote. Ultimately what she did was her decision alone, and she wasn’t used to sharing that with someone.

She frowned, uncomfortable with the idea that she was so set in her ways that she couldn’t make room for anyone else. It was hard, sure, but she could do it. She was pretty sure she was falling in love with Nate, and knew she’d have to get used to sharing with him. Love was nothing without honesty, it couldn’t survive with secrets. And she would tell him her suspicions about Max, as soon as she had something besides gut instinct to go on.

The irony of that wasn’t lost on her, but before she could explore it further, Nate was back, dropping onto the blanket next to her with a triumphant look on his face. And a guitar in his hands.

She blinked. “What’s that for?”

“Mildly charming, huh?” He shot her a look as he settled cross-legged on the blanket, the acoustic instrument across his knees. “I’ll show you charming.”

Amused, Lily turned on her side and propped her head on her fist so she could watch him. He gave the strings a couple of testing strokes, frowned and gave the tuners a half turn then strummed the strings again.

Apparently satisfied, he cleared his throat and shot her a look. “Get a load of this,” he said, and started to play.

The laugh that had risen up in her throat at his arrogance faded away as the music streamed out from his fingertips. She didn’t recognize the piece but was immediately caught up in it. The haunting melody washed over her like a caress, soothing and inciting at the same time so that by the time the last strains faded away on the night air, she was well and truly seduced.

“Play something else,” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. She felt warm and soft inside, as though the music had snuck in through her pores and worked its magic.

“What would you like to hear?” he murmured, his fierce eyes a direct contrast to the mellow quiet of his voice.

“Something with words,” she said, and lay down so her head pillowed on her bent arm. “Sing to me.”

He smiled, warm and knowing, and began playing again.

She recognized the Eric Clapton song right away, and part of her wanted to scoff at the cliché. A man singing to a woman about how wonderful she looked, how trite was that? But his eyes were dark and serious, without a hint of the laughter that would have kept the moment light and comic, and his voice when he added it to the guitar’s melodic tones was sure and strong.

The knot forming under her heart made her want to close her eyes, to hide from the knowledge and feeling she read in his. But she couldn’t make herself shut him out. She felt as though she were drowning, caught in the romance of the moment in spite of herself, and his eyes were the only thing keeping her from going under.

She forgot to listen to the words, forgot to think or question or do anything other than feel. And by the time the last note had faded away, she was sure. She was in love with him.

Swamped by it, unable to speak, she simply held out her arms. He was already setting the guitar aside and easing down beside her, sliding into her arms as though he’d been doing it for years.

“What?” he murmured, and brushed a tear from her cheek she hadn’t even been aware of shedding.

She shook her head, unable to speak, and pressed her mouth to his.

She poured everything she had for him, everything she felt but couldn’t say, into the kiss. He seemed to know that she needed slow and gentle rather than frantic, and he sank into her.

They sank into each other, clothes melting away under stroking hands until they were naked under the darkening sky. Sighs were whisked away on the summer breeze, moans blending with the rustle of leaves in the trees that shielded the yard from prying eyes and cocooned them in a private, wooded paradise.

They came together slowly, fluid and easy but with no less heat. Instead of a burst of fireworks, the explosion when it came was quiet and intense.

Later, he carried her up to her apartment and drew her a bath. He climbed in the tub behind her, washing away the dirt and the grass and the sticky residue of sweat and their lovemaking. Then he made the bed with her new sheets—after going all the way down to the car to get them—and slid in beside her to wrap his arms around her.

* * * * *

The next morning at work Lily walked around with a smile on her face and a song in her heart. She was in such a good mood that even having three washing machines explode and water all over the basement couldn’t dampen her spirits.

She supervised the cleanup, informed the guests whose turn-down service would be affected by the flooding that they would receive coupons for complimentary massages in the hotel spa, and then settled down in her office to catch up on paperwork.

“Come in,” she called out at the knock on her door, and looked up with a smile. “Jason. What can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to tell you, Ms. Michaels, the repairman says he’s got the machines working again.”

“Excellent. Was he able to find out what happened?”

Jason shrugged, tall and handsome in his uniform. “He said it looked like the drain lines had gotten clogged. He said the only reason they all didn’t go is that the other machines weren’t in the spin cycle at the same time as the others.”

“Thank God for small miracles,” she quipped, and nodded at the slip of paper in his hand. “Is that the bill?”

He shook his head. “Someone left it at the front desk for you,” he said. “It’s marked personal, so I didn’t open it.”

She took the note. “Thanks. Is there anything else?”

“No.”

“Okay. Julia’s working in reservations today since we’re short staffed there, so if you need a hand at the desk just buzz me.”

He nodded and closed the office door behind him, and she turned the note over in her hand. Her name was typed across the front of the envelope, and she frowned. If Nate were leaving her love notes, she doubted he’d take the time to type out her name.

Doubly curious now, she slid a finger under the flap and tore the envelope. She drew out the single sheet of stationary—from the hotel, she realized, the kind available in all the rooms for the guests to use for correspondence—and unfolded it.

“‘Your friend has something of mine’,” she read aloud, “‘and I want it back. Convince her to give it to me, or you’ll both be sorry.’”

Well, that killed her leftover romantic buzz, she mused. Envelope and letter still in hand, pushed out of the chair to dash out of the office.

Jason was speaking to a couple of guests when she emerged from the office, so she waited impatiently for him to finish. She noted halfheartedly that Jason was getting to be very good with the guests, helpful and friendly as he gave them directions to a local restaurant, suggesting a few local activities they might enjoy trying. She really ought to see if he wanted to do more on the event planning side of things, he’d probably be good at it.

She waited until he’d sent the couple on their way before stepping forward. “Jason.”

He looked up. “Ms. Michaels.” He frowned. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes, fine. Jason, did you see who left this note?”

He shook his head. “It was here when I came on shift. Kenny’s on second shift this week, he was probably here when it came in. I can call him if you like.” He reached for the phone.

“No, it’s okay. It’s only nine thirty, I’m sure he’s still asleep. I’ll ask him tonight when he comes back on shift.”

“Okay. Are you sure everything’s okay, Ms. Michaels?”

He was watching her with concerned eyes, so she worked up a smile. “I’m fine. Isn’t it about time for your break?”

“Yeah, but…it can wait. I can take it later, when Julia gets free of reservations.”

She waved that away. “Don’t be silly, I can cover for you. Go ahead and take it now.”

He looked doubtful. “Are you sure?”

She shot him a look. “Jason, I’ve been working the desk since you were in junior high. I think I can handle it.”

He flushed. “Yes’m,” he mumbled, and hurried toward the employee lounge.

Lily winced. She hadn’t meant to embarrass him. She’d make it up to him, she decided with a sigh.

To give herself something to do, she pulled up the day’s reservations list and began checking the list of assigned rooms. She was halfway through the alphabetical list when someone walked up to the desk.

“Welcome to the Pavillion, may I help you?” She spoke automatically before she’d even looked up, and when she did she had to blink twice to make sure she wasn’t seeing things.

Oh my
, she thought,
that is a handsome man.

He finished his approach and grinned at her as though he knew what she was thinking. And he probably did. Tall and muscular, he had the kind of body that Madison Avenue used to sell everything from underwear to cologne, broad shouldered and lean hipped with a loose-limbed walk that Lily was sure made women of any age drool and sigh.