Silver Sparks Page 12

  He gave her time to step away and pretend the moment hadn’t happened. She tried to convince herself to do it. But when he slipped one arm around her waist, she stepped into his embrace as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He ran his hand beneath her hair, urging her closer, and she lifted her face to his.

  Maggie expected the same barely restrained hunger she’d felt in their first kiss. She quivered with anticipation, ready to respond in kind. Cal could be a control freak at times, but damn, the man could kiss. But instead of taking her mouth with the expected ravenous need, his lips met hers gently, almost cautiously. A caring but safe kiss.

  She repressed a twinge of disappointment. Safe was probably smart. And it was still a very nice kiss.

  Cal must have decided it was safe to do a little more, because he continued caressing and tasting, the tender kiss apparently having no end. Her pent-up energy eased into blissful enjoyment. She found herself savoring every slide of his lips, every touch of his tongue.

  She heard him groan and the kiss deepened further. She melted into him. Within seconds she was lost, aware only of Cal’s hands where they cradled her back and head, and his mouth, gentle yet insistent, loving hers.

  She felt caught in slow motion, liquid heat seeping through her body until she found it easier to simply mold herself to him. His hand on her back encouraged it, pressing her closer as his other hand explored her hair, her cheek, and the curve of her neck. It was a lover’s touch, languid and sensual. The effect was as powerful as a lightning bolt.

  Desire hit her so hard and fast she nearly shook with it. What had happened to safe? Part of her knew it was crazy to want a man who opposed her at every turn, and wanted to control her every action. Another part of her thought nothing mattered but what he was doing to her body, most especially the part that had been jolted out of dormancy and throbbed eagerly between her thighs.

  There was no doubt he felt the same way. The evidence pressed hard and hot against her abdomen. They were way beyond safe.

  Cal pulled away suddenly, eyes unfocused, breathing heavily. She blinked, staring at his shoulder and concentrating on clearing the fog from her mind.

  He cleared his throat. “Maggie.” It was almost a groan.

  She drew a deep breath. “We probably shouldn’t do that,” she whispered.

  “Right.”

  She took a step back. He didn’t let go of her. A muscle jumped in his jaw and she saw him dart an uncertain look toward the door to the back room.

  Oh, God. She hoped he had enough willpower to cancel that thought, because she knew she didn’t.

  As they stood there, a loud ring broke the silence. Startled, Maggie stepped back, and this time he let go of her. They both looked at his pants pocket.

  “Probably Rick,” Cal said. “He can leave a message.” He fastened his gaze on her, his gray eyes narrowing decisively.

  Her heart kicked into overdrive. Without taking his eyes off hers, he pulled his phone out and set it on the fossil case, where it continued to ring. Then he pulled her back into his arms.

  Damn. It would have been easier to end this if he weren’t touching her. But now he was sliding his hands up and down her arms, his dark gaze heating her blood and making it impossible to think.

  “Just tell me no, Maggie.” He growled it in her ear, his breath sending goose bumps skittering down her body.

  She should say it. His phone had gone silent, but her pulse thundered in her ears as she tried to remember why she didn’t like Cal. Was it simply because he didn’t like her? Because right now he looked like he liked her a lot. . . . .

  His phone began ringing again.

  “Shit! What’s so damn important?” He glanced down at the phone, then did a double take. Grabbing it, he stared at the display. “It’s Amber.”

  She recognized the name of Cal’s youngest sister. As she watched, his face went from puzzled to annoyed and back to puzzled again. “She hardly ever calls me.”

  His mind was not going to be able to let it go. “Answer it,” she said.

  He gave her an apologetic glance while keeping a tight hold on her hand. “Ten seconds,” he promised. “I’ll tell her I’ll call back later.” With the other hand he grabbed the phone. “Hi, Amber.”

  She could wait ten seconds. In fact, it might be a good idea to lock the front door and put up a closed sign. Just in case. She slipped her hand from his and started toward the door.

  “You’re where?”

  Cal’s startled voice pulled her up short, and she turned toward him.

  His brows puckered as his gaze locked on hers. Still speaking into the phone, he said, “How in the hell did you get . . .”

  He was obviously getting a complicated explanation. She watched his expression go from stunned to angry to confused. She wondered if Amber always put him through an emotional workout. He finally settled on exasperated. “I’ll be there soon. And don’t go anywhere!”

  She knew she didn’t need to lock the door even before he took her hands in his. “My sister is at the Days Inn.”

  “The Barringer’s Pass Days Inn?” She barely kept her voice from squeaking. “I thought she lived in L.A.”

  “She does. But it seems my featherbrained mother took off with some new guy. She put Amber on a train to stay with me for two weeks.”

  Maggie frowned. “There aren’t any trains to Barringer’s Pass.”

  “I know.” Cal looked pained. “When she got to Denver she talked her way into the sympathies of a group of senior citizens on a bus tour to Salt Lake City. Naturally, they fell for her poor-me routine. They let her hitch a ride into the mountains and dropped her off at the Days Inn.” He pulled his keys out of his pocket. “I have to go pick her up and try not to strangle her.” He added the last part so low she barely heard it. His gaze lingered on hers. “I’m sorry, Maggie.”

  She nodded. What else could she do, say forget your sister, we’re in the middle of something here? As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t let a sixteen-year-old girl cool her heels in a snowstorm while she . . . She wasn’t going to think about what they might have done in the back room.

  “You should still lock up while I’m gone.”

  “No, I’m open for business.”

  He didn’t look happy, but he didn’t bother arguing. “If Rafe or one of his Neanderthals walks in, you call the police. Promise.”

  She nodded. He waited, not satisfied, and she sighed. “I promise. Here, take the key to the back door.”

  “Back in twenty.” He grimaced. “With Amber.”

  Maggie already disliked the kid.

  Cal knew he had a lot to learn about being part of a family, especially one as dysfunctional as his. When Julie had been killed, he’d resolved to establish a relationship with his one remaining sister. At first it had looked simple—find one sister’s killer and get to know the stranger who was his other sister. That seemed like enough for someone who’d lived without family ties most of his life. No one told him it might mean putting his love life on hold to take in a temporarily homeless teenager.

  He wouldn’t bail on her, but this family thing was getting more complicated than he’d expected.

  He needed four-wheel drive for the slick road up the ridge where the motel overlooked the highway. He pulled up to the front door, stopping in the pool of yellow light spilling from the bright lobby. No one was waiting near the door. Leaving the truck running, he went inside.

  She was easy to spot. Near the registration desk a girl with long mostly dark hair laughed flirtatiously with a young man in a dark green blazer. Three weeks ago, at Julie’s funeral, Amber’s dark hair had been streaked with strands of shocking pink. Now the streaks were bright blue. The young man stood with one elbow propped on the tall counter in a pose of casual ownership as he grinned at whatever the girl had been saying.

  “Amber.”

  She turned. “Oh, hey, Cal,” she said, as if they’d last seen each other yesterday and not for the first time in
three years at Julie’s funeral. Something winked on her left nostril and he realized she’d gotten her nose pierced. She turned back to the young man, who clearly belonged on the business side of the desk. Cal raked him with one long glance. He looked too young to be in charge of anything, but too old to be flirting with a sixteen-year-old girl. “That’s my ride,” she told him, jerking a thumb at Cal.

  She picked up a backpack and slipped it over her shoulders, the straps pulling at her top until it strained across her breasts. She adjusted it with a little shimmy. The desk clerk followed the move appreciatively, then grabbed a Styrofoam container off the desk. “Don’t forget this.”

  “Thanks.” She beamed at him. “See you around, Ryan.”

  “Remember, Fridays at the Black Diamond.”

  She walked across the lobby in a loose, rhythmic stride that made Cal wonder how a five-foot-three girl could make her legs look so long. “Ready,” she told him.

  He frowned at her thin scoop-neck sweater that looked like it covered nothing more than an equally thin tank top. “Don’t you have a coat?”

  She gave him a look that asked if he’d gotten stupid since she’d last seen him. “It was eighty-five when I left home.”

  He ground his teeth. “Here, put this on.” He started removing his jacket.

  “No thanks.” She gave him another look that seriously questioned his intelligence, or at least his fashion sense. “You have heat in that truck, don’t you?”

  He didn’t argue. He tossed the bulging backpack on the backseat, went around to his side, and waited while she buckled herself in. A rich, meaty aroma filled the truck. He glanced at the Styrofoam container. “What’s in there?”

  “Beef stroganoff. Ryan had the kitchen fix me something to eat. He’s really sweet.”

  He doubted Ryan would have done the same for him. “I could have taken you somewhere,” he grumbled, irritated that he felt he had to compete with Ryan. They both knew somewhere was probably McDonald’s. The stroganoff smelled better.

  Cal drove carefully through what already looked like three inches of snow. He’d listened to the radio on the way over; the forecast was for six to eight inches. The weatherman had been joyous. Cal imagined you had to be a skier to understand.

  Amber gazed in horror at the snowy landscape and cranked the heat up higher.

  “So what’s the deal with Mom?” he asked.

  “She got married again and went to Hawaii for her honeymoon.” She sounded as resentful as he felt.

  Three weeks after her daughter’s funeral. He wasn’t even surprised. “At least this one must have some money, if he can afford that.”

  She sneered. “He’s old. Probably has buckets full of it.”

  He didn’t bother telling her that money didn’t automatically come with age. But if his mother had married an old man, Amber was right—the guy had money. Enough for his mother to stick her daughter on the first train to Denver.

  “I can’t believe you found a bus driving into the mountains in this weather.” The thought of a bus full of senior citizens slipping off a sheer rocky cliff brought on an involuntary shudder.

  “Well, of course not. They got through the pass before the snow started.”

  He took his eyes off the road long enough to give her a sharp glance. “When did you get here?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know, around ten or eleven this morning.”

  “This morning! Why didn’t you call me right away?”

  “What’s the hurry? I was hanging with Ryan and Carrie. That’s the girl who worked the desk earlier. They’re pretty cool. Carrie’s in college.”

  That was another thing. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

  “I’m only missing three days, then we’re out for the summer.” She scrunched her brow with concern. “Dude, are you always this stressed? Just chill.”

  It was possible he’d never chill again. He started to rub the ache that was beginning in his temple, then thought better about taking his hands off the wheel.

  “I didn’t ask to be here, you know. You want me to take off, just say so.”

  Jesus. Take off where? “I want you to stay.” Sort of.

  Amber peered through the snowy twilight at downtown Barringer’s Pass. Hundred-year-old brick buildings blended seamlessly with newer architecture built to match the old style. “Cute town,” she said grudgingly. “Do they have a mall?”

  “No.”

  “No?” Apparently it was difficult to comprehend. “Where are we going?”

  “To a store called Fortune’s Folly. A friend of mine owns it.”

  He thought she might object, but she looked interested. “A store, huh? Like a boutique? Do they have clothes?”

  He snorted a laugh. “I didn’t see any.”

  Ahead, some poor schmuck in a Mustang spun and slid as he tried to negotiate the slight hill. Cal idled at a safe distance, watching for a minute, then sighed. The guy was never going to make it without a push. Turning up his collar, he opened the door. “Be right back,” he told Amber.

  She was already digging into the stroganoff and didn’t look up.

  Maggie turned as the front door opened. Finally, a customer! The man stomped and brushed snow from his long wool coat, then looked up.

  Her face fell. “Mr. Jameson.”

  The De Lucas’ lawyer smiled as if they were old friends. “Miss Larkin.” He looked pointedly at the yellow blotches on her window and motioned with his head. “It appears someone is unhappy with you.”

  “Kids.” She shrugged. “What can you do?”

  He nodded, not looking especially sympathetic. “It’s fortunate nothing was broken.”

  “Yes, isn’t it?” She watched nervously as he began wandering around the store. “Can I help you with something?”

  “Nice place.” With hands in pockets and head cocked, he studied the slabs of fossilized sea creatures on the back wall. “You sell many of those?”

  She suspected he knew the answer to that. “Not lately.”

  He made a disappointed sound. “Pity.”

  “Retail is like that. Sales will bounce back.”

  “One can only hope.” He made a point of scanning each quiet corner of the shop. “I don’t see any customers. I guess that means you’ve had some time on your hands. I wonder if you’ve had a chance to rethink the De Lucas’ generous offer?”

  “Yes, I have.” She took a few seconds to enjoy his confident look. “I’ve decided it’s even more repulsive than I initially thought.” Before he could react, she added, “But don’t you think the offer has become irrelevant?”

  His eyebrows drew together. “Why is that?”

  “Because after all the mud that’s been slung in the press, who is going to believe that Rafe and I simply had a lovers’ quarrel? It looks more like a nasty, prolonged breakup at this point, one that’s lasting longer than the so-called relationship. Which, I remind you, never existed.”

  He nodded once. “I see your point. Perhaps all that is necessary is that you and your boyfriend call an end to your open hostilities against the De Lucas and allow us to handle the explanations.”

  “My boyfriend’s not involved,” she corrected. “And that would mean not defending myself against accusations already made. I can’t do that.”

  After a moment of confusion, his face cleared. “Ah, I see the problem. It’s your provincial attitude about the press.” His condescending smile made her itch to hit something. Like him.

  “Let me explain,” he said, oblivious to her anger. “The public forgets, Miss Larkin. In the world of tabloid journalism, you are but a flash in the pan. Here today, gone tomorrow. Rafael, on the other hand, was famous before he came here and will be famous after he leaves. And in his world, reputation equals money. Therefore it is my job to refute irresponsible, negative stories like yours. This public dispute with the De Lucas is merely your fifteen minutes of fame. Should it disappear today, I guarantee your name will be forgotten tomorrow.”


  She stared. He really thought that solved everything. It was too bad he wouldn’t understand her anger, because he was about to get a big dose of it.

  She folded her arms so she wouldn’t punch him in the nose. “Now let me explain something to you, Mr. Jameson. Here in my provincial little town, the things said in the press will not be forgotten tomorrow. Or next month, or next year. So, naturally, I feel a need to defend myself against false accusations. A minor detail in the De Lucas’ lives, but a major one in mine. Unless Rafe or the De Luca family cares to retract statements made about me—”

  “They didn’t make those statements. The press did.”

  She smiled without a drop of sincerity. “Of course. Unless they care to make a statement defending me, and to tell the press to back the hell off, I will continue to do whatever I can to protect my reputation.”

  “Your solution seems unlikely.”

  “Then so does yours.”

  He shook his head. “I confess I’m disappointed, Miss Larkin.”

  Since he really meant fuck you, his formal language irritated her like nails on a blackboard. “Life is full of disappointments, Mr. Jameson.”

  She was hoping to at least make a dent in his professional calm, but he nodded serenely. “Yes, life has disappointments.” To her surprise, he savored it like a precious nugget of wisdom. “I understand your morning was also rather disappointing. Or perhaps frightening is a better word?”

  Anger flashed, bright and hot, helping her ignore the twinge of fear beneath it. “Perhaps harassment would be a better word. Where was your client this morning?”

  “I’m sure his whereabouts can be accounted for by several witnesses.”

  “I’m sure.” She’d had about enough of this. Starting toward the door, she said, “If there’s nothing else, I think you should leave.”

  “How’s your sister?”

  She froze. “Excuse me?”

  “The youngest one. Sophia, isn’t it?” He didn’t even raise his head as he fingered a box of ancient bivalves. “I heard she was home from school.”

  She gave him a long, cold look. “I don’t think it’s any concern of yours.”