Sweet Anger Page 13
“Breckenridge!” Hunter recalled exclaiming. He had expected Tahiti, or Tibet, not someplace as close as Breckenridge. He’d been a basket case for almost three months and she had been only seventy miles away.
“Please don’t be angry that I tracked you down,” he said.
She looked at him directly, staring straight into the gray-green depths of his eyes. “I’m not angry.” Her lips barely moved and the words were whispered. “Not anymore.”
He had been accused of many things, but being dense wasn’t one of them. She didn’t have to spell it out for him to get the message. He’d been forgiven.
A tightness inside his chest gave way and he began to breathe normally for the first time in a long while. He’d had a knot in his chest ever since the day he knew what destruction his actions were going to bring into her world, a world that had already fallen apart. He felt like laughing.
Instead he raised his glass. When she did the same, he clinked them together, toasting the truce they had tacitly made. They watched each other over the rims of their glasses as they drank.
It took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to lean over and kiss her wine-glossed lips. He longed to bury his fingers in the wealth of her hair. His mouth wanted to chart the satin smoothness of her throat and beyond, into the V of her sweater.
She was noticing what beautiful hands he had. They were tapered and lean and strong, with a sprinkling of dark hair on the knuckles. His wrist wasn’t too thick. It was encircled by a gold watch. Suddenly she wanted to pick up his hand and study it in minute detail.
They ate each course of their meal unhurriedly. The restaurant wasn’t crowded. The staff was attentive, but they were content to let their diners set a lingering pace.
The lettuce salads were cold and crisp. The baked potatoes were hot and fluffy and dripping with high-caloric garnishings. The trout was aromatic with herbs and grilled to perfection.
But Kari nearly choked on a succulent mouthful when Hunter asked, “How long have Pinkie and Bonnie been living together?”
The bite of food finally went down the right tube. She chased it with a swallow of wine and blotted her watering eyes with her napkin. “The Pinkie and Bonnie I know are living together?”
He shrugged. “I assume they are. They leave the parking lot of the television station together. The other day I heard her reminding him that ‘they’ were out of milk and should stop and get some on the way home. That sounds rather domestic, doesn’t it?”
“Milk?” Kari squeaked. Flopping back against the padded booth, she laughed. “That low-down sneak! He didn’t tell me when I talked to him. He didn’t want to hear me say ‘I told you so.’ ”
Hunter pushed his plate aside and relaxed with her against the back of the booth. “I take it their affair is a project you’ve been working on for some time.”
“For almost two years. I knew they would be perfect for each other. She’s crazy about him and desperately needs someone to fuss over. If anyone ever needed fussing over, it’s Pinkie. He was just being pigheaded.”
Hunter studied her as she smiled. “You like him very much, don’t you?”
Her eyes came to rest on his. He was close. His hard thigh was only an inch from hers on the seat. She couldn’t exactly feel it, but she knew it was there. “Very much. He’s the friend everyone should have.” She sipped at her wine. “Sometimes it’s painful to have a friend like that.”
“How so?”
“They tell you the truth when others would tell you what you want to hear.” She sighed and closed her eyes. “You see, I counted on Pinkie to bail me out of the mess I got myself into. He made me take my punishment like a good little soldier.”
“Kari.” Her eyes drifted open. “I’m sorry I was the cause of your suspension. Please believe that I had nothing to do with it.”
“I know.” Her voice was as soft and quiet as the hand she laid reassuringly on his arm. She was as surprised as he that she had touched him voluntarily. She gazed down at her hand, but couldn’t find a good reason to remove it from the hard strength of his forearm. “None of this was your fault, Hunter. I apologize for what I said that day in the restaurant.”
“You apologized in your note.”
“My stilted and formal note,” she said and he shrugged slightly. “I was embarrassed by the scene I’d caused and didn’t know what to write.” Her eyes shone with tears and her voice was tremulous. “You should have punched me out.”
“Kari, don’t let it upset you again. It doesn’t matter anymore.” He covered her hand with his own.
“Dessert tonight?”
Kari was grateful to the waiter for intruding. Her head was buzzing, and it had nothing to do with the wine she had drunk. Things were moving too fast. They had to slow down. She was just coming to grips with Thomas’s death, his infidelities, her career, her whole future.
Did she need another emotional upheaval now? She seized the opportunity to prolong the dinner, because she didn’t know what would happen when it was over.
“Please. I’d like to see a dessert menu,” she said quickly. “It must be the mountain air, but since I’ve been here, I’ve been eating like a horse.” She tried to sound frivolous and gay, but didn’t think Hunter fell for it. He was studying her closely with a half-formed smile on his lips, as though he knew her craving for dessert was a delaying tactic.
They perused the menu together. “New York cheese-cake,” Hunter commented.
“That sounds good,” Kari said. “With strawberries, maybe?” The waiter nodded.
“What’s the difference between New York cheese-cake and plain cheesecake?” Hunter asked him.
“Seventy-five cents,” he quipped.
They both laughed. “I buy only the best. One New York cheesecake with strawberries for the lady and I’ll have apple pie. Two coffees.”
“With cheese or vanilla ice cream?” the waiter asked, noting down their order on his pad.
Hunter turned to her. “Do you take cheese or vanilla ice cream in your coffee?”
“No,” she said seriously.
“I meant on the apple pie,” the waiter said with forbearance.
“Oh, on the pie! Vanilla ice cream.”
The waiter went away shaking his head and they burst out laughing. Kari even went so far as to press her fore-head against his shoulder as she giggled. She rather imagined she was tipsy, but it felt so good she didn’t care. When she lifted her eyes to his, they melted together:
“The only other time I’ve seen you laugh was one day in court when your photographer said something to you. I like the sound of it,” he said softly.
“I’ve never seen you laugh.”
“This is a night for firsts, isn’t it?”
His husky whisper found its way into her body. Once inside, it scattered to every erogenous spot and brought on a riot. Battling so many bonfires was futile, so she let them burn slowly and deliciously.
“It’s a shame to waste that last bite, but if I eat it, I’m going to pop,” she said a few minutes later.
“We can ask for a doggie bag. You could have it for breakfast.”
“No, but thank you. Remember that fifteen pounds the television camera adds?”
“I remember everything you said that day.”
She remembered it, too. She had walked into his office, curious but confident, having no inkling of the impact he was going to have on her life. And it wasn’t over yet. She felt that the influence he had already had on her future was mild compared to what was coming.
Was she being naive? Were they truly on the brink of something exciting? Or was the wine making her feel and think recklessly and irresponsibly?
“Where are your glasses?” she asked suddenly.
“In the pocket of my jacket. I only need them to see.” She laughed. “Actually,” he explained, “I can see up to about four feet away without them.”
“And you didn’t think we’d be sitting farther apart than that?”
Nervously and shyly, her eyes flitted away from his. He cursed himself. Go slow. Be her friend first. “Shall we go?”
She murmured her consent and they moved out of the booth. Before he could help her, she settled her jacket around her shoulders. She also reached for the tab. He yanked it from her fingers.
“I intend to pay my part.”
“My treat,” he said succinctly, forestalling any further discussion. “What was that?” he asked when she mumbled something he didn’t quite catch.
“I said you’re bossy.” He threw back his head and laughed.
Outside on the sidewalk he asked, “Do you feel like walking back or would you rather I drive you?”
So, he knew she had walked to the restaurant. She shouldn’t be surprised. If he had been determined to come after her, he wouldn’t have left finding her to chance.
“You don’t have to do either.”
He stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and gazed at the dark silhouette of the mountains for a slow count of ten. “Surely we aren’t going to start playing games with each other. Not after what we’ve come through already.”
She’d almost bungled it again, first with the check, now with this. Don’t be so damned defensive. “It’s quite a walk,” she said in a teasing manner, hoping to make a concession.
He smiled. “I think I can handle it.” He took her arm as they crossed the street. Without even asking, he guided them up the hill in the direction of the house.
He matched his stride to hers. They walked in companionable silence. The night was still and quiet. Finally she asked what was uppermost in her mind. “Hunter, why did you come here?”
“I’m on vacation.” This time his attempt at humor fell flat.
“You just happened to choose Breckenridge?”
“No, it wasn’t a random choice.” He stopped. They stood facing each other in the middle of the street. The street was deserted but it wouldn’t have mattered. To them, they were the only people on earth at the moment.
“Pinkie told me you were here and I immediately notified my office that I was taking this week off. I came here with the sole purpose of seeing you. This afternoon as soon as I arrived, I located the house you’re staying in. I drove past it several times and spotted you when you came out. I didn’t plan to call you until tomorrow morning but couldn’t wait. I followed you into the restaurant.”
He took a step nearer and spoke more softly. “I know it’s been a year since your husband’s death. From what I’ve read that’s the last hurdle. Now you should be ready to start again.” He capped her shoulders with his palms. “I wanted to see you, talk with you, spend time with you.”
“Why, Hunter?”
He probed the depths of her eyes. “You know why.”
Her eyes met his steadily. She answered as honestly as she could. “There’s always been something between us. I don’t know what it is. At first I thought it was hatred, at least on my part. Now I’m not sure. Every time I’ve seen you it’s been upsetting and unsettling. I’ve always been uncomfortable with you until—” She broke off and looked away.
“Until when?”
“Until tonight.” Her head was bowed and she spoke into her collar. He tilted her chin up with his index finger until she was looking at him again.
“So, you don’t think you’ll mind having me around for a few days?”
“I don’t know,” she said with soft earnestness. “Don’t expect too much. Don’t expect anything. My feelings for you have always been ambivalent. They still are.”
His grin was rueful. “I can’t ask you to be more honest than that.” He pressed her hands between both of his. “Tell me this. When you saw me walking toward you tonight, what was your initial reaction?”
She let her eyes fence with his for a moment while the knot of emotion in her throat tried to work itself out. “I was glad to see you.”
She expected a reaction. She was disappointed. His face gave none of his thoughts away. She had expected him to smile, or maybe duck his head and kiss her cheek, or embrace her and kiss her passionately.
Instead he only said “You’re shivering.”
“I’m cold.”
“Here.” He lifted her jacket from her shoulders and helped her guide her arms into the sleeves.
“Thank you,” she said politely and started to turn away.
“Wait.” He pulled her back in front of him, bent his knees to put him on a more even level with her and reached for the two sides of her jacket. In the dark, it was difficult, but he managed to link the components together. As he slowly straightened his legs, he dragged the zipper up the front of her body. It was an intensely sexual motion.
Somehow he managed to draw close without actually moving. He just inclined toward her until there was barely room to navigate the zipper between their bodies without touching her. His hands passed her waist and hovered above her stomach. When it inched over her breasts, it left behind a heat that spilled over her skin like an ink stain. She wondered what she would do if he dropped the zipper and slipped his hands inside her jacket to cover her breasts.
She knew what she would do. She would lean into his hands, for her breasts were aching with the need to be caressed.
His breath was hot on her face as he pulled the zipper all the way up to her chin and whispered, “There. That should feel better.”
She didn’t know if it did or not. Every nerve in her body felt like it had been singed. She had never felt so disoriented and confused in her life. She yearned for the feel of his body against hers. She wanted to see him naked, to run her hands over him.
“I’d better get you inside.”
His quiet words were all that saved her from swaying against him and begging him to hold her. How fool-hardy that would have been. Because if the workings of her mind were erotic, she could imagine what his were. She had barely confessed to enjoying his company, while he had made no bones about coming here specifically to see her and spend time alone with her. From the rigid set of his facial muscles, it was clear he was struggling to restrain his arousal.
Was she ready for intimacy with a man other than Thomas?
Tonight, tomorrow night, soon, in the distant future, ever? God, she didn’t know. One minute she was burning, the next she was quaking with apprehension and fear of making another commitment. And sex for her would always be a commitment.
What if he tried to kiss her good night?
But she needn’t have fretted about that tonight. At her door, Hunter outlined the shape of her chin with his thumb. “That was one of the most enjoyable dinners I’ve ever had. Thank you and sleep well.”
Then he began walking back the way they’d come, toward the sleeping town.
The first thing she did the following morning was the first thing she’d been doing every morning during her stay. She rolled out of bed, went to the window with the eastern exposure, and reached for the drape cord.
She had slept later than usual. Sunlight struck her full in the face. She yawned and stretched and shook out her hair. It was only when her eyes came fully open that she saw Hunter leaning against the fire hydrant at the curb. He was watching her with evident delight.
A squealing sound escaped her as she reached for a robe and held it against her. It was a ridiculous attempt at modesty since he’d already seen her in her sleeping attire, a Denver Broncos T-shirt. It was the most comfortable thing she had to sleep in, being soft and faded from innumerable washings. It only reached the top of her thighs, a fact she was embarrassingly reminded of as Hunter waved jauntily and started jogging toward her door.
“Oh, my God,” she groaned as she raced through the bedroom and caught a haphazard glimpse of herself in the mirror. She pulled on the robe just as his knock sounded.
“Good morning,” he said as she opened the door.
“Good morning.” She rested one bare foot
on top of the other as the cool mountain air hit her toes. “How long have you been out there?”
“Long enough for the coffee to get cold and to give the neighbors something to talk about.”
“There are no neighbors this time of year.”
He smiled. “Good. Then you won’t have any reservations about inviting me in.”
She gave him an exasperated look and stepped aside. “Is that how you finagle a jury?” It was asked without malice.
“Practice makes perfect.” He had carried a paper sack in with him and began unloading it on the dining table. “I have tepid coffee and moderately fresh donuts.”
“Sounds wonderful,” she said in a dubious tone. But she picked up one of the gooey donuts and bit into it. “Hey, these are good. I love this chocolate icing,” she said, licking her fingers.
“I thought you would.” He wadded up the now-empty sack and with a perfect arc, lobbed it into the trash can. When he turned around, he was mesmerized by the nimbleness of Kari’s tongue as it flicked over the tips of her fingers. What he wished that tongue were doing to him was still illegal in some states.
He hadn’t recovered yet from seeing her stretching in the sunlight. That ridiculous T-shirt was sexier than any negligee. Did she have any idea at all what a tantalizing picture she made when she arched her back and stretched with feline laziness? Not only could he see the silk and lace confection of her panties, but the cotton T-shirt had stretched over her breasts and made them a present for his eyes.
He loudly cleared his throat. “Should I heat this coffee up or do you want to make a fresh pot?”
“I’m out of coffee. You can heat that up in the microwave oven on the counter.”
They demolished the donuts in record time. As they sipped the reheated coffee, Hunter surveyed the room. It had a tall cathedral ceiling, warm wood paneling, and a parquet floor dotted with braided rugs. The furniture was tasteful and expensive but not ostentatious. A stone fireplace took up one wall. From this central room, he could see into a dining alcove; the small kitchen and a hallway he presumed led into the bedroom, or bed-rooms. It was small, but the vistas its wide windows afforded gave it a feeling of spaciousness.