Seeking Single Male (21 page)

He moaned denial, relieved that she hadn't bolted from his room. Anticipation coursed through him. He held an exquisite gift,

which he intended to unwrap with infinite care. He eased his suit jacket from her shoulders, lowering one strap, then the other

to make way for his tongue. Gathering her into his arms, he lowered his mouth to nuzzle just above the low neckline of her

gown, gratified when she arched into him, and that her movement tugged the dress down so far that the hard peaks of her

breasts popped into view. Greg accepted her subtle invitation with fervor, laving the pearled tips while a delicate citrus scent

lurking in the valley between her breasts teased his senses higher.

His control was slipping badly. He buried his face against her skin, marveling how he could feel so safe and so anxious at

the same time. As alarms sounded in his brain, another sensation registered. A distant noise—a voice. He stiffened at the sound

of his name being called from the first floor.

"Gregory?"

Greg hesitated, then lifted his head. "It's Will." Remorse knifed through him. How could he make sure his brother wasn't…

doing
this
if he was in his bedroom with Lana…doing
this?
He heaved a sigh and sat up, ignoring the ache in his loins. "I'm

sorry. I can't do this while Will is around. I feel like I need to set an example."

She pushed into a sitting position with her back to him, adjusting the bodice of her dress. "I understand."

Her voice was strained and shaky. Was she upset at being interrupted, or relieved?

"Gregory?"

Frustration clawed at him as he stood and shrugged into his jacket. "Let's go back to your place," he suggested, reaching out

but stopping short of touching her shoulder, "or get a room."

"No," she said quietly, then stood abruptly, smoothing her hand over the skirt of her gown as she retrieved her purse. "I'd

better be leaving."

"Gregory? Are you here?"

Greg pulled his hand down over his face. He wanted to throw caution and responsibilities to the wind, then throw Lana on

the bed and ravish her. Instead, he inhaled deeply and did what he always did—the right thing. "I'll take you home," he

conceded. He'd probably be thanking Will tomorrow for the timely interruption, but he still had tonight to get through.

Her wrap had fallen to the floor at the corner of the bed. Greg bent to pick up the silky length of fabric, and extended it to her

in the semidarkness. She reached for it, her eyes averted, but he held on, engaging in a slight tug-of-war until she looked up.

"I'm sorry. My life isn't always my own. I have responsibilities." Even as the words left his mouth, he recognized their meaning

in a larger context.
If things were different…

But things weren't different. Lana's eyes were luminous in the low lighting. Her pale hair glowed, the ends curling around her

slender neck. "You don't owe me anything, Greg."

At her detached tone, he released the wrap. She draped it over her arm carefully, then walked to the door, just as if nothing

had transpired between them.

He clenched his jaw to the point of pain. Then again, in her opinion, maybe nothing had.

20

LANA WAS IN THE THROES
of a full-body yawn when the telltale sound of Annette's double ring at the back door

reverberated through the empty shop. Thanks to last night's encounter with Greg, Lana had become acquainted with every

square inch of her lumpy mattress after she'd gotten home and crawled into bed.

She walked toward the back door, steeling for Annette's certain barrage. When they had emerged from Greg's room last

night, Annette's eyes had been full of questions. Will had been more direct.

"What were you all doing, Gregory?"

"Looking at the stars, pal."

"Gregory has a big telescope," Will had informed Annette, whose eyebrows seemed to have frozen high on her forehead as

she studied Lana. Thank goodness Will had then announced that Annette was Coffee Girl, and the four had laughed over the

mix-up.

Annette didn't get the chance to drill Lana afterward because Greg drove and Will rode along to take them both home. Lana's

apartment was closer, and after a tense ride during which she and Greg exchanged only a dozen words, she'd practically

vaulted from the car.

Now, forcing a cheerful smile, she undid the latch. "Good morning."

"Yes, it is," Annette sang , blowing in on an early morning chill, carrying warm delicacies covered with fogged-up wax

paper.

Lana ignored the obvious invitation to discussion. "Smells de-lish."

"I was inspired." More singing.

She sighed and took the tray, conceding defeat. "Let's see…you're in love?"

"How can you tell?"

"Wild guess."

Annette grinned. "Isn't Will the kindest, handsomest man you've ever seen?"

"Yes." At least the "handsome" part ran in the family.

"He's all I think about, Lana. It's like we were meant to be. Imagine, if you and Greg weren't working together on this

rezoning thing, Will and I would never have met."

"You would have met sooner if Greg hadn't interfered," Lana pointed out.

The redhead shrugged. "Things happen for a reason."

Did they? Lana wondered. She had always thought so, but what good could possibly come of meeting Greg Healey? Even if

he decided to spare her business, what about her heart?

"You like him, don't you?"

Lana snapped back to the present. "Will? I think he's a great guy."

"No, I mean Greg."

"Oh. Greg and I are…opposites," she said lamely.

"I think he likes you, too."

"But I don't—"

"Lana, did Will and I interrupt something last night?"

"Don't you have more trays to carry in? I suspect today will be hopping with all the last-minute shoppers."

Annette angled her head, but finally nodded. "You're right—I'll get the rest. Oh, are you definitely going to be closed

tomorrow?"

She nodded. "I'm going to deliver the gifts for the children in the morning, then do some last-minute decorating, and make a

big Christmas Eve dinner before my mother arrives."

"Will invited me to have dinner with him and Greg and Yvonne."

If she hadn't had her own plans, Lana might have been envious. But the Healey brothers couldn't be more different. Will was

looking for someone to include in his life. Greg was looking for someone to include in his bed…But only when no one else

was in the house, she thought wryly.

"That's nice," she said. "But are you sure you aren't moving too fast, Annette?"

Astonishment widened her friend's features. "Lana, life is short. When love finds you, you shouldn't waste time. I'll be back

with the cranberry truffles."

Such a simple concept, Lana thought as she watched her friend walk away, her every step punctuated with a happy bounce.

When love finds you, you shouldn't waste time. But did love find everyone? And what if your every waking thought was

occupied by a person who you knew didn't feel the same? And what if that person held your future in their hands?

Holy heartbreak.

"ALL NEXT WEEK OFF
, sir—I mean, Mr. Healey? For everyone in the company?"

Greg nodded his approval at Peg's more casual address. "Yes. Do you think you can contact everyone at home?" It was, after

all, Saturday morning. He and Peg were the only two in the office. He'd showered, but hadn't bothered to shave since the party

last night. Hadn't bothered to sleep, either.

"Sure, Mr. Healey. I'll use the calling tree we have in place in case we close due to bad weather."

"Then I'll leave the matter in your capable hands. Merry Christmas."

She blinked, then smiled. "Merry Christmas, Mr. Healey."

At a rap on the door, they both looked up. Art Payton stood in the doorway.

"Got a minute?"

"Sure," Greg said, waving him in. Peg slipped out and closed the door behind her.

Art dropped his considerable bulk into a chair. "I got a call this morning from Mitch Ryder, the largest developer who's

shown interest in the Hyde Parkland project."

Dread curled in his stomach, but Greg nodded. "Go on."

"Well, seems as though a couple of big apartment buildings are available in Frankfort. Ryder thinks he can convert them to

condos. Trouble is, he can't handle both jobs at once, so it's either the Hyde parcel or the Frankfort parcel."

"And he needs to know right away," Greg said.

"As soon as possible. He'd rather do business here."

"And if we make changes to the plans at this point?"

"We'll lose Ryder."

"But we can find another developer."

"In time. But why risk it? You can have a home run when this rezoning goes through by sticking to your original plan. Or you

can give in to the merchants, and settle for a lot less money coming in over a longer period of time."

"Either way we won't go bankrupt."

"But with Ryder, you can retire. Buy a sailboat. Cruise the South Seas."

Greg respected Art's candor—the man worked on salary, so he was speaking from an unbiased viewpoint. "The rezoning

vote will take place the second week of January."

"I can hold Ryder off until then," Art promised, "but no longer." He pushed himself to his feet and headed for the door.

"Greg?"

Greg looked up.

"This is no time to start being Mr. Nice Guy." Art lifted his hand in a wave, then swaggered out the door.

Greg tossed down his pen, then scooted his chair back with a frustrated sigh. Hell, if he could convince Lana to go along

with the rezoning, they'd have enough money to do whatever they wanted. She'd never miss the coffee shop. He frowned.
They?

A dry laugh escaped him. He knew Lana Martina well enough to know that the way to her heart was not through money

derived at the expense of things she held dear. His frown deepened.
The way to her heart.
Where had that come from?

Besides, Lana had told him she wasn't interested in a relationship. How could he possibly walk away from the chance of a

lifetime in return for—what? A few weeks of torrid lovemaking? And who's to say she even wanted to have an affair?

The phone rang, and he answered since Peg was probably busy spreading Christmas cheer to the employees. "Greg Healey."

"Greg, it's Charlie Andrews."

Greg grinned when he heard the voice of a buddy from law school he'd run into last week while playing hooky at the

courthouse. "Hey, Charlie."

"Only you would be working on the Saturday before Christmas."

Greg laughed. "What about you?"

"And me. Listen, I've been thinking about our conversation last week, and you hinting at making a move into the courtroom."

His pulse picked up. "And?"

"And I have a proposition for you. The DA's office is recovering from some political infighting. To make a long story short,

they're looking for a few good men."

Greg sat forward in his chair, barely able to contain his excitement. "But Charlie, I have no courtroom experience."

"I know, but the money is barely enough to live on, so it evens out. In fact, I'm sure you'll be up to speed long before your

salary is. The office has some big cases coming up in the next six months. Could be career makers for a guy with the right stuff

who's willing to work on the cheap."

"I don't know what to say, Charlie." Every muscle in his body screamed yes.

"Say you'll think about it over the holidays. I'll catch up with you after the New Year."

"Great. And thanks."

"Merry Christmas, man."

"To you, too."

Greg returned the receiver slowly, pleasure pooling in his stomach. A chance to work in the DA's office, doing what he'd

always wanted to do.

But for pauper's pay. He sighed, then pushed himself to his feet and walked over to the garland-decorated window to stare at

the courthouse roof. If the rezoning proposal went through, he'd be a rich man. A rich man who could prosecute landmark cases

without worrying about providing for himself and for Will—and, now with a girlfriend in the picture, perhaps Will's offspring.

His brother couldn't raise a family on the minimum wage he earned.

And then there was Lana. And her violet eyes. And her bleeding heart.

He groaned as Art's parting words came back to him. After all these years, what a bad time to have grown a conscience.

21

LANA WOKE ON
Christmas Eve morning with little-girl anticipation at seeing her mother again. She smiled wide as she

stretched, then jumped into the shower, humming Christmas tunes under her breath. Janet already would have left for the eight-

hour trip north. She'd told Lana the last time they'd spoken on the phone to expect her around four in the afternoon, which gave

Lana plenty of time to deliver the gifts to the children's center where a breakfast for the kids was being held.

She still marveled at Greg's generosity. Alex had teased her that he was simply trying to butter her up, but she liked to think

that his heart had truly gone out to the children.

She had to make two trips with a huge bag of gifts strapped to her moped, but it was more than worth it to see the looks on

the faces of the children. Her own problems—real and perceived—seemed petty next to the trials that other people