The Honeymoon That Wasn't Page 12

  She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “Thanks.”

  He left, and she sat there numb and drained. How could she have forgotten about the Draper case? She still had time, even though it meant working later than usual. What troubled her was that she’d been capable of forgetting.

  The problem went back to Tony. He consumed her thoughts too often. The six days since she’d seen him had been dull. And she’d become inordinately restless. Her concentration level was probably a step above that of a puppy going from one toy to the next at lightning speed.

  Suddenly paranoid, she quickly flipped through her calendar to make sure there were no other surprises coming her way. Fortunately there were none. She leaned her head back against her black leather chair and applied pressure to her temples, hoping to prevent the headache that threatened.

  Tony’s cell phone number was still in her purse. She should call him. Just see what he was up to. She didn’t have to actually see him. But would hearing his voice be enough? Or would it whet her appetite and make her more miserable? She’d only been asking herself the same questions again and again. It was no wonder she couldn’t focus. But then of course, if she did call…

  God, she couldn’t stand being this indecisive.

  She took a deep breath and reached into the drawer for her purse. She had no choice. She had to call him. If only in self-defense.

  “SON OF A BITCH!” Dropping the hammer on the workbench, Tony vigorously shook out his hand, hoping the thumb he’d just creamed would quit throbbing.

  Yesterday it had been the saw he let slip. Twice in two days he’d been distracted and ended up hurting himself. He was always so careful. He’d had a perfect record, both while working for Capshaw Construction and now himself, until this week.

  Damn that Dakota. Why hadn’t she called? He knew she was busy with work. But would one quick phone call kill her? Probably lost his number by now. Or had thrown it away.

  He went to the refrigerator and got some ice from the door dispenser. If he didn’t ice down his thumb and curb the swelling, he was gonna have a hell of a time finishing this job.

  He could call her if he wanted. Even though she hadn’t given him her home number he knew the firm’s name where she worked. But he wasn’t gonna call. No way. Making the first move was hers. Hadn’t she gotten all weirded out about how things would go when they got back to the city? One day at a time, he’d told her. And just for today, no way in hell he was gonna call.

  Good. He’d made up his mind. He didn’t have to think about it anymore. He looked at the clock. Five-fifteen. He wasn’t going to get any more work done today, not with his thumb feeling as if someone had lit a match to it.

  Yawning, he stretched out his aching back. He’d been putting in too many long hours. Getting to be as bad as Dakota. Her again. Sneaking her way into his brain. He had a stiff back. Nothing to do with her. Too many long hours tearing apart the bathroom.

  Sleep hadn’t come easy since they’d gotten back a week ago. Sometimes he lay awake all night thinking about her smile, about the weight of her breasts on his belly and chest as she crawled up his body to kiss him. To taunt him. To make him insane. He’d picture her that last evening they were on the island, lounging on the balcony at sunset, her eyes closed, her lips curved in the barest of smiles, the look of sheer contentment on her face.

  That was the problem with working alone every day. Too much time to think. At least when he’d worked for Capshaw there were distractions. Joking with the guys, lunch with Dallas every day until she’d quit last year. He’d left shortly after that when his hobby of buying and refurbishing brownstones not only became more fun and challenging, but lucrative enough that he didn’t need company benefits.

  The sloppy wrap he’d made for his thumb slipped. He checked the injury and decided a few more minutes of icing would help. He got to the refrigerator but before he remade the ice pack he looked in the fridge for a beer. None. What did he expect? He hadn’t been shopping since he’d gotten back. Yeah, Dakota had been right. Where was Otis when Tony needed him?

  Tony muttered a curse.

  He backed away from the refrigerator as if it had bitten him. That wasn’t the only time she’d mentioned Otis. Tony couldn’t recall the time or details, but no way should she have remembered the guy. Not his name, not his spiel about keeping the fridge stocked. Otis had only been in the suite that one time—when Dakota was half-asleep and totally wasted.

  So what the hell?

  Dumbfounded at the sudden realization, he sat on one of the bar stools he’d had delivered yesterday. He rested his injured hand on the new brown-and-tan granite countertop he’d recently put in.

  She hadn’t been drunk that night. She’d known what was happening all along.

  What a damn fool he was. Baffled, he replayed some of the events the night of the wedding. She’d had a few, he knew that, but why pretend she was drunk?

  He stared out the window at his courtyard garden, withered and bare from the first frost they’d had last night. He just didn’t get it. He didn’t know if he should be angry because she’d used the pretense to shun responsibility if they were found out, or be flattered and glad that she’d gone to the extreme in order to have those few days with him.

  Just when he thought he was beginning to understand her, she turned out to be a puzzle. Not that it mattered. She hadn’t called. Probably wouldn’t. And he wasn’t sure he would either…if he could help it.

  He got up and went in search of some tomato juice he thought he’d spotted earlier, when his cell phone rang. Normally he kept it clipped to his belt, but he’d put it down somewhere. He frantically looked around, locating the cell by the fourth ring.

  As soon as he flipped it open, a second before he answered, he saw the unfamiliar local number and knew it was Dakota.

  “Tony?”

  “Hey.”

  “Busy?”

  “Not for you.” Amazing how any annoyance he’d felt just minutes ago dissolved at the sound of her voice.

  She sighed. “I’m looking out of my office window at some really dark clouds. Looks like it might snow.”

  “I heard it would rain.”

  “I’m not sure which is worse.”

  Tony rubbed the back of his neck. “How come we’re talking about the weather?”

  She hesitated. “I don’t know.”

  He knew, because he felt the awkwardness, too. No reason for it to be there. Not after everything they’d shared. But there it was. “Well, how ya doing? Working hard?”

  “My eyes are crossed and I have an in-box stacked to the ceiling, but other than that everything is great.”

  “Sounds like you need a little R & R.” Man, did he have the perfect thing in mind.

  “I’ll be lucky to have a whole weekend to myself from now until next summer.”

  “I hope you’re exaggerating, Dakota.”

  “Not by much.”

  “That sucks.”

  She laughed. “That’s an understatement. But it’s not all bad. At least it’s interesting work. I’m working as cocounsel on a big high-profile case.”

  “How big?”

  “Really big. Huge.”

  “Would I recognize the name of your client?”

  “Hmm, most likely.”

  “Can you tell me who?”

  “Not really.”

  “Okay, then who’s your cocounsel?”

  “My brother. Why?”

  No surprise there. “Just curious.” Three years out of law school and already being pushed into a high-profile case. Shoved right into the limelight by Cody. At least the Sheas looked out for their own.

  “I don’t want to talk about work. I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

  Tony shook his head. It looked like he had to make the next move. “What are you doing tomorrow night? You like Italian food?”

  “I’ve got to work, Tony.”

  “My grandmother taught me how to make a mean lasagna.”


  “Wow, a man who can cook.”

  “Don’t get excited. I can make only five things and lasagna’s the best of the bunch.”

  “Anything sounds better than the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I’ve been eating.”

  “So we’re on?”

  “What time?”

  “Your call.”

  “Eight-thirty too late?”

  “Any time that’s good for you. The lasagna can keep.”

  “Wait, let me find my pen. I’ve got to get your address.”

  He paced the kitchen and living room, checking out the mess he’d have to tackle before tomorrow night. His housekeeper wouldn’t be back until next week. Maybe he could bribe her to come tomorrow for just a couple of hours.

  “Okay, I’m ready.”

  He gave her the address, it turned out they lived only ten blocks apart. They hung up after that. Dakota was anxious to get her work done, and he was anxious to find his grandmother’s lasagna recipe. He had no idea what the hell he’d done with it. He hadn’t even finished unpacking yet. There was never any rush because he hadn’t accumulated too much stuff since he moved every year or so.

  Before each place was finished, he bought another one to renovate. They always sold quickly then and for more money than he’d ever pay for one. Rich people sure liked their conveniences. They wanted to be able to move in, not have to do so much as change the carpet.

  He started gathering up his tools, cringing at the amount of dust he’d created changing out the dining room floor. That was the only reason he had a woman come in to clean once a week. He liked to make the mess, not clean it. But for tomorrow night he would. The kitchen was already finished and fortunately the living room didn’t need that much work. He’d spruce up the downstairs bathroom and the rest of the house would have to be off-limits.

  His thumb started to throb again and he went to look for his ice pack. He still couldn’t believe she’d called, or that she was coming over tomorrow. Why the sudden change of heart, he wondered. Did she miss him? Or was meeting him in private kind of like being on the island. It didn’t count.

  DAKOTA SHUDDERED. What had she been thinking calling Tony? She didn’t have time to see him. She had more work than she could handle and now she’d probably given him the wrong message and…

  “Do you need anything before I leave?”

  At the sound of Sara’s voice, Dakota started.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Sara said, standing in the doorway.

  “I didn’t know you were still here. You should’ve gone home already.”

  “It’s okay. I had a few things to finish up and I’m in no hurry.” Sara shrugged. “Besides, I’ve only been in the city a month. I don’t have any friends here yet.”

  “Manhattan’s a big change from Georgia. Are you sorry you came?”

  “Oh, no. I love it here. So much to see and do.”

  Dakota smiled. “That’s why you’re working late?”

  Sara laughed, flashing a cute dimple. “When I meet some people, I’ll start getting out more.”

  Dakota nodded, a little sad for Sara. Meeting people in the city, nice people anyway, wasn’t so easy.

  “May I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.”

  Sara moved in closer and lowered her voice. “Is Cody, um, I mean, Mr. Shea married?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “Dating anyone?”

  “No one seriously that I know of.” Oh, God, she should lie. Tell the poor girl he’s engaged. But she’d find out otherwise.

  “Good.”

  “He’s not married for a good reason.” She motioned for Sara to come closer. This woman would be crushed if she went after Cody. He liked his women much more sophisticated, and with a noteworthy surname. “He’s my brother and I love him, but he’s high maintenance, and tends to be a bit arrogant as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

  “Oh, yes.” Sara grinned, as if she thought that flaw was cute, her blue eyes sparkling with the thrill of the hunt. “I know.”

  “Okay.” Dakota sat back. The woman was on her own. “Just thought I’d give you a friendly warning.”

  “Thanks.” Sara smiled and took a couple of steps back, then tucked her hair behind her ear. Dakota couldn’t help but notice the woman’s watch. It looked like a Rolex, but had to be a knockoff. Much too pricey for a temp’s salary.

  “Need anything before I leave?” Sara asked again.

  “No, thank you. Go home. Salvage the evening.” Dakota acknowledged her wave with a nod, and then stared at the empty doorway. Sara seemed like a nice woman, but maybe she was the type who chased after rich guys. Cody wasn’t rich, but for someone like that he’d be worth the catch.

  But that was his problem. Dakota had enough of her own. Tomorrow night she’d see Tony again. The thought both excited her and scared her to death. Her gaze was drawn to her laptop sitting on the credenza.

  To her shame, she hadn’t checked in with the girls at Eve’s Apple since she’d been back. They were all great about sharing accounts of their dates. Not that she would be specific, but she’d at least let them know she’d gone for it.

  She grabbed the laptop and brought it to her desk, placing it on top of the mess of papers she should’ve been working on. Instead, she flipped it open, powered up and then briefly checked her personal e-mail account. Nothing important. Nothing that couldn’t wait, anyway. She switched to Create Mail and started to type.

  To: The Gang at Eve’s Apple

  From: LegallyNuts@EvesApple.com

  Subject: Mission accomplished

  Hi, Everyone,

  Just checking in to tell you I did it. Bit the bullet. Had a fabulous weekend at a fabulous resort with the most fabulous guy! All of you who told me to go for it, you were absolutely right. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. It was exactly what I needed. I’m only sorry the weekend’s over. It went way too fast. And reality just isn’t quite as fun. :)

  But I’m back to work, and God knows I have enough to keep me busy. Won’t have time to miss him or the great sex, or anything else. That’s the good news. Bad news is…okay…I’ll admit it. I miss him!!!

  But I’m okay. Really. No worries. Hope all is well with the rest of you.

  Your sister in arms,

  D

  12

  DAKOTA PAID THE CABBIE and climbed out in front of the address Tony had given her. The number she’d written down belonged to a three-story brownstone. Like her own apartment, the brownstone had probably been converted into three flats and rented out separately. She searched for a directory or sign indicating which flat was Tony’s, but there was only one address etched into the eye-level bronze plaque beside the beautiful beveled glass door, circa early nineteen hundreds, if she weren’t mistaken.

  She pressed the buzzer and Tony answered the door. He wore faded jeans and a long-sleeved navy shirt that was too loose to give her a good view of that great chest she’d missed all week.

  “Hey, good. You’re early.” He stepped aside, letting her in.

  “I guess I should have called to warn you.”

  “Nah, the lasagna’s been ready since seven-thirty, and me…” He winked. “I’ve been ready for a week.”

  She smiled, amazed at the warmth and contentment she felt simply being in the same room with him. He led her into the foyer, from which she could see the living room where a cozy fire was blazing in the fireplace.

  “Here, I’ll take your coat.”

  She shrugged out of her tan cashmere with him helping. His fingers brushed the side of her neck, absurdly making her heart flutter. “I take it you have the first floor?”

  “Actually, I have every floor, but this is the only one that’s livable.” He hung her coat in a nearby closet. “What about your blazer?”

  She hesitated, and then got out of her suit jacket, leaving her in the matching gray skirt and a tailored white blouse.

  He put the jacket with her coat, and then turned to her with one of th
ose sexy grins that would have had a wiser woman running for the door. When his gaze flickered to her breasts, she realized that, even through her sensible bra and staid white blouse, her nipples were protruding.

  His gaze abruptly met hers. “I have both white and red wine. Which would you like?”

  “White,” she murmured, backing up to give him room to pass.

  The delicious smell of lasagna drifted under her nose and her stomach growled loudly. Embarrassed, she flattened a palm against the sound. It didn’t help.

  The noise didn’t seem to faze Tony, he simply said, “I hope that sucker tastes as good as it smells.”

  She laughed. “You look skeptical. I thought you made a mean lasagna.”

  “I did. Once.”

  “Ah.” She pressed her lips together. He looked so earnest. She didn’t care how it tasted. It would be the best lasagna she ever had.

  “Come in.” He led her farther inside, and she followed, her gaze staying on his butt.

  She hadn’t seen him in jeans before. Well, once, the first time she’d met him a year ago at the job site where he and Dallas worked, but he’d been sitting down so it didn’t count. But she sure was feasting on him now. She’d seen him naked so of course she knew he’d look good in jeans, but my, oh, my.

  He turned and gave her an odd look, and she prayed she hadn’t inadvertently said anything out loud. She cleared her throat. “This is nice.” The room had high ceilings, a beige marble fireplace trimmed with ornate brass, lots of polished wood and a large Oriental rug in front of the sofa. “Really nice.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Do you own or rent?” Silly question, really. A place like this would cost a fortune.

  “I bought it a couple of months ago.”

  “No kidding.”

  “A foreclosure. I got a deal.” He grinned. “I wouldn’t say it needs a lot of work but a tetanus shot is required to go upstairs.”

  She laughed. “I think I’ll stay down here with the lasagna.”

  “You ready to eat? I just have to toss the salad and stick the garlic bread in the oven.”

  “For just the two of us?”