Twisted By Love, Reincarnation Tales, Book 1 (5 page)

Was she afraid of the man or attracted to
him? Honestly, it was a bit of both.

Potential danger could be a huge turn-on,
especially when the likelihood of anything really bad was small.
The potential for hot sizzle with him was somewhere closer to
popping the mercury out of the top of her thermometer.

Of course, if she’d had the evening to
herself with a glass of wine and a steaming bubble bath, she might
have been able to figure it all out. But Toni wanted to talk. And
talk. It was difficult to work out her own problems when Toni’s
were so much more important and dramatic. The conversation had
ended close to midnight when Toni decided that she shouldn’t have
spent the night at Livie’s because the
once-again-wonderful-but-terribly-misguided Reese was probably
camped out on her doorstep prostrate with the need to beg her
forgiveness for having hurt her so badly.

Livie didn’t have the heart to say that he
could have called Toni’s cell to find out where she was, or that
after a relationship that had lasted less than a month, he most
likely wasn’t prostrate with anything but relief. She chided
herself for the bitchy thought.

Leaving for work this morning had saved her
from yet another hour of Toni’s ponderings. Two sisters trying to
get ready in one bathroom was, in a word,
hell
. The only
thing she’d been grateful for was that Toni hadn’t asked why, for
the second day in a row, Livie was wearing a dress instead of a
suit.

On the drive in, Livie reached a few
conclusions of her own.

She wouldn’t ignore what had happened with
Burn in the garage last night. She wanted to learn more about him.
She wanted that drink after work. And she needed to thank him for
paying the homeless man and allowing her to escape the awkward
situation. Between her ten o’clock and her ten-thirty meetings, she
checked the Internet, found the contact number for Daniels
Associates, and called. He wasn’t in, but she’d been forwarded to
his voice mail. Mooning like a schoolgirl over the sound of his
voice, she almost missed the beep to start her message. Name, rank,
and serial number, call me. Short, sweet, and to the point, yet her
heart was beating ridiculously fast by the time she hung up, and
her palms were sweaty.

When he called back, she’d apologize for her
bizarre behavior, then she’d accept his invitation for a drink.

Unfortunately, he didn’t call back before her
ten-thirty meeting.

There was still no message when she returned
from lunch. Not a big deal. The whole afternoon lay ahead, and she
wouldn’t overdramatize. She was
not
like her sister.

* * * * *

She’d worked up her nerve, yet after all the
interest he’d shown, Burn didn’t call back. He. Didn’t. Call. Back.
What did it mean? Was he angry? Maybe he’d decided she was a
whacko, and he didn’t want to get involved. But he was the one
doing all the following. Why didn’t he call back?

Livie went down to the garage at four, having
left some important paperwork in the car. Or at least she assumed
it must have fallen out of her poorly clasped briefcase—like the
pamphlet she’d dropped last night—but no, it wasn’t there.

Down in the garage, she happened to notice
that Burn’s black Lexus was in the same parking spot as before.
Back in her office, she found that pesky memo she’d been looking
for right on the corner of her desk.

Five o’clock rolled around, and she hadn’t
finished approving the month-end credit memos. Also, it was Friday
and traffic was a bitch on Fridays so staying a bit later would
only lessen her commute time.

And if Burn did have an all-day meeting, he
could still call, and they could still nip over to the bar across
the street for that drink.

To leave or not to leave.

Six o’clock, Julia stopped in before going
home. “Shopping, Sunday, don’t forget.”

They’d met in new employee orientation and
had been friends ever since. Ten years. Julia worked in website
design, was easy to be around, and not prone to melodrama even if
she did run her life according to her horoscope and had recently
developed a fascination with reading tea leaves. She also maxed out
her credit cards once a year at the Nordstrom’s anniversary sale,
buying bright colors that didn’t clash with her red hair and spiked
heels that brought her to the mighty height of five feet four.
Julia favored tight clothing that emphasized her hourglass
figure.

“I’ll be there.” Livie smiled broadly.

“Can’t wait.”

Livie pursed her lips, then decided to go for
it. “I’ve got a deep question for you.”

Julia loved deep questions as much as she
loved examining tea leaves, even if she wasn’t particularly good at
it yet. Her pretty violet eyes sparkled with a go-ahead.

“If a man doesn’t call you back after you’ve
left a message, how long should you wait before calling him
again?”

“How many messages?”

“One.”

“A woman should wait a day.”

“Thanks, Julia.” Gee, that was easy. At least
her friend hadn’t asked if she was fifteen years old instead of
thirty-five.

“Don’t work too late. Oh, and we’ll do a late
lunch at that little place in San Mateo. They use tea leaves, and
I’ll give you a reading.”

Livie groaned.

“I haven’t done a reading for you yet.” Julia
was practically begging now. “Please. Pretty please with sugar on
top?”

The Julia-twinkle got to Livie. “All right.
But if you see anything bad, I don’t want to hear about it.”

“Hmm, maybe we’ll see something about Mr.
Man-who-hasn’t-returned-your-call. Sunday. Be there or be square,”
she said as she left, then turned back for one last edict. “And
wear tennies.”

That’s what she liked about Julia. She didn’t
ask for too many intimate details and always remembered important
essentials like footwear.

Half an hour later, the credit memos done,
Livie popped her head out of her office. She was the last one.
Friday night was not a late night around Cumberland’s headquarters,
even on the last day of the quarter, and she had no further reason
to stick around. Burn had turned out to be Mr.
Man-who-
wasn’t
-going-to-call. So be it. She wouldn’t have a
Toni-style hissy fit. He’d call on Monday. Or he wouldn’t. She’d
call him again. Or she wouldn’t. She packed up her briefcase, shut
down her computer, and punched off the desk lamp.

Toni had texted after lunch to say she was
hitting the town with her friends. Livie could finally have that
long soak in the tub. She’d use the time to read
The
Fountainhead
since she’d gone to the expense of a hardback
copy.

Punching off the lights, she keyed in the
alarm code, and opened the front door.

Burn Daniels stood across the hall by the
elevators. “I knocked, but I guess you didn’t hear.”

The sight of him in a navy-blue suit and
striped tie curled her toes. “No, I didn’t hear.”

“I got your message, but I wasn’t able to
call back. I thought you would have left already, but then I saw
your car down in the garage.”

He’d seen her car and come all the way back
up. That was nice. She didn’t want to be a woman who read a myriad
of meanings into everything a man said or did. That was Toni’s
shtick. But returning to look for her, that had to mean real
interest.

Behind her, the alarm screeched. “Damn. I
didn’t shut the door.” There was a thirty-second delay. She rushed
back and punched in her code to stop the awful wailing.

Burn followed, the door closing with a snick
behind him. The quiet of the empty office fell over them.

They were alone. The security lights bathed
his face in a soft glow. She wasn’t afraid. Jittery and excited and
breathless, but not afraid.

“I thought we should start over. I’m Burn
Daniels.” He stuck out his hand.

She set her briefcase down. “Livie Scott.”
She shook his hand, his grip firm and warm, sending a shiver up her
arm.

“Livie. That’s short for...?”

“Olivia. But everyone calls me Livie.”

“I like it, both variations.”

Silence again. The clock ticked loudly on the
wall. Burn didn’t back off, though he did let go of her hand. He
smelled of fresh fall air and an indefinable male
something
.
His eyes pulled at her, demanded something from her. Jade was such
a soft color, yet his gaze was compelling.

“We got off on the wrong foot,” he went on.
“I want to apologize again for last night in the garage.”

“Apology accepted.”

“I want to be perfectly honest. I noticed you
a couple of weeks ago, and I haven’t stopped looking at you since.
I find you very attractive, and I’d liked to know you better.”

Livie took a deep breath. She’d intended to
clear the air of everything. “You found me attractive so you
followed me on my walk the other day?”

His eyes seemed to glitter in the dim
security lighting. “Yes.” She was taken aback that he admitted it
so easily. He went on. “But I figure that you’re feeling some of
the same attraction or you would have thrown me out by now.”

She sighed. “That’s true. When I’m not
wondering if you’re some sadistic night stalker targeting lone
women in empty underground parking garages.”

He didn’t smile, probably because she hadn’t.
“Sadistic night stalker, no, but I did feel a certain overwhelming
need to find out your name.”

“Maybe you should have simply introduced
yourself.”

“Yeah.” This time he smiled slightly. “That
would have been a good idea.”

“I should have thanked you for helping me out
the other day by giving that guy twenty bucks. I should probably
pay it back to you.”

“Not necessary.” He moved his jaw from side
to side, obviously considering his next words. “I have to admit
that I thought about looking your company up online after I saw
that flyer. Just in case you were on the website.”

She should have found the idea scary. But
she’d never truly been frightened of him, not even before he’d
mentioned visiting his mom twice a month. “And what did you find
out?”

“Nothing. I didn’t actually do it.”

Interesting. “Why not?”

He shrugged. “Sense of right and wrong.”

“At least you have that. Some men don’t.”

He tipped his head, as if he were assessing
the expression on her face. “Forgive me for being an ass?”

The silence stretched. Finally she broke it.
“Only if you brought a picture of your sister’s dog. I want to make
sure you weren’t lying.”

“Damn. I forgot.” He held up his hands in
surrender just as he had the night before, and she suddenly
realized the space between them had shrunk. He could easily touch
her, cup her face. Or her breasts. Or lift her skirt the way he had
in her fantasies last night. She lost herself in his gaze, just as
she’d known she would.

A whisper lay unspoken on her lips.
Take
me. Burn me up. Please.

It was suddenly difficult to breathe, and she
could hear her own heart beating in her ears. “Then I guess you
better have your mother call me to vouch for you.”

“Right now?”

She nodded. “Right now.”

Chapter Five

If Bern had checked his messages earlier in
the day, they’d have been far beyond this awkward stage, but taking
the bull by the horns and calling him was the last thing he’d
expected his mystery woman to do. He’d gone from one meeting to
another and hadn’t listened to his voice mail until after six. Ten
of the fifteen messages had been from Antonia.

Of course Livie’s last name brought to mind
Antonia. Related? Nah. It couldn’t be. There was coincidence, and
then things entered the realm of a cosmic joke. Any higher power up
there couldn’t be that cruel.

He’d ignored Antonia’s increasingly irate
messages in favor of searching the building for Livie.

Now he’d found her.

Her chest rose and fell, and the pulse point
at her throat throbbed visibly. They were close enough that his arm
brushed her breast as he pulled his suit jacket aside to retrieve
his cell phone from the inside pocket. Her nipple was hard beneath
the silky fabric of her dress. She didn’t withdraw, and her eyes
deepened to the color of rich coffee.

He hadn’t told her the whole truth—that he
was completely obsessed with her—but he’d copped to the important
stuff—such as following her that day on the street and that he’d
thought about looking her company up on the Internet—and hopefully
eased that particular tension between them. In the process,
however, he’d ratcheted up another. His mind ran through several
scenarios to push the sexual tension even higher, but he didn’t
want to scare her by moving too quickly.

He started to punch in his mother’s speed
dial.

Livie rolled her eyes and stayed his hand.
The brief touch was electric. “I was kidding about calling your
mother.”

He would have done it. Whatever he had to do
for Livie. He wanted her at ease, even as his heart beat double
time. “Are you sure? I could call one of my brothers. Or my
sister.” He reminded her of his family-oriented upbringing. “Or the
dog.”

She smiled, as he’d wanted her to. “Your
sister’s dog talks?”

“He knows thirteen words, but he can’t
actually say anything. I’m sure she could get him to
whoof
into the phone.”

She laughed, a beautiful, musical sound. “I
think we can skip the doggie conference.”

Each smile he coaxed from her brought him
closer to her. He held up his cell. “If you’re sure...”

”I’m sure.”

Ah, exactly what he wanted her to feel. Sure
about him. He dropped his cell phone back into his pocket.

“Maybe you should get a dog yourself,” she
said.

He shook his head. “I’m gone too much. But I
enjoy taking Roark for a hike when I can.” Then, with a slight
shuffle of his feet, he was damn near chest-to-chest with her. Any
closer, she’d feel the effect she had on him. Her lips beckoned,
lightly colored yet plump and luscious. But the timing wasn’t
right. A few more moments, but not yet.