14 Valentine Place (11 page)

She tried, but even with two hands she was no match for his strength. She finally conceded defeat and with a sound of frustration let go of the handle. She knew her muscles were no match for his, but she figured her words might be.

“Dylan, you’ve just had surgery. You’re not supposed to be using that arm. If you tear open those sutures you’re going to be sorry,” she said in a pleading tone.

“I’m not using my right arm, so I won’t rip any stitches. I can shovel with my left hand,” he said with an annoying twinkle in his eyes.

“It takes two hands to shovel snow,” she declared sternly.

“No, it doesn’t,” he boasted, showing her once more how easy it was to push the snow away from the walk.

“You don’t need to be doing this. Krystal and I take turns clearing the snow. It’s in our rental agreement,” she informed him.

“I don’t care what your rental agreement says. As long as I’m here, I’ll take care of it.”

Maddie could feel her patience slipping away. “Leonie said you were a lot of things but she never mentioned bullheaded.”

Instead of getting angry, he grinned at her. “I’m sure I could fill you in on a whole lot of stuff my mother hasn’t told you about me.”

The provocative statement sent a tiny shiver of ex
citement through her. “You know the doctor said no lifting.”

“I’m not lifting anything, just pushing it to the side.”

“Dylan, please stop.”

He paid no attention but kept working.

“Do you realize how ridiculous you look? You have your arm in a sling and you’re trying to shovel snow.”

He paused then, holding her eyes with his. “I’m not worried about how I look, Maddie.”

She realized he didn’t need to be, because he didn’t look ridiculous. He looked incredibly sexy.

Disturbed by the direction her thoughts were taking, she was tempted to go inside and leave him be. If he was foolish enough to risk injuring his shoulder, why should she care?

The problem was, she couldn’t in good conscience leave him to do the job alone. She went to the garage and got another shovel and started at the opposite end of the walk.

She didn’t look at him, but worked steadily until they met in the middle. She expected him to make some sarcastic comment, but he didn’t. He simply said, “Thanks. At the rate it’s coming down, it’s almost too much for one person to clear.”

She could see the sweat on his brow. It had cost him a lot to shovel the small section of walk and already a thin layer of freshly fallen snow hid his efforts.

She glanced up at the sky as huge, fluffy flakes continued to fall. “We could be here the rest of the day. I say we stop.”

He, too, looked up at the clouds. “For now, anyway.”

When he grimaced she asked, “Are you sure you’re all right? Maybe I should put the shovels away.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted, but this time he didn’t protest when she took his shovel from him. He climbed the front steps, then leaned against the door as if trying to muster enough energy to open it.

After returning the shovels to the garage, Maddie could have easily gone in the side entrance and avoided seeing Dylan.

She could have, but she didn’t. Concern for him had her using the front entry.

She kicked off her boots, then hung her jacket and scarf on the coat tree next to his. On any other day she would have taken off the warm-up suit she wore over her leotard, but the thought of Dylan seeing her in her dance attire made her uneasy.

Which was ridiculous. It practically covered her from neck to toe and she’d danced on stage wearing far less. She started to unzip the nylon jacket only to zip it back up again.

“Dylan?” she called out tentatively as she wandered down the hallway.

“In here.” The sound came from the kitchen. She poked her head inside and saw him next to the stove. “I thought I’d have some hot chocolate. Want to join me?”

Chocolate.
If he’d said a cup of coffee, she wouldn’t have had any trouble saying no, but chocolate…it was a temptation she couldn’t resist.

So was he. With his cheeks rosy from the cold and
his hair mussed from the hat he’d worn, he had a boyish appeal that Maddie found hard to ignore.

“You need someone to make it for you, is that it?” she asked with a lift of one eyebrow.

“No, that’s not it. Come inside and see for yourself.” He smiled and crooked a finger in her direction.

She walked over to him and saw that he’d already put the milk on the stove to warm. “Not bad for a one-armed guy,” she noted.

“Piece of cake compared to shoveling,” he said, his eyes meeting hers in a look that said they shared a secret.

She forced herself to look away, turning her attention to the cupboard, where she reached for two mugs. “Come on. Admit it. You’re tired, aren’t you?” She cast a glance in his direction and was rewarded with another smile. This one had her breath catching in her throat.

“Invigorated, is more like it. A little work never hurt anyone.”

“I beg to differ. In your case, it could have hurt you,” she chastised him, glad to focus her attention on finding the cocoa in the cupboard.

“That little bit of time I spent outdoors did more for my healing process than two days of rest,” he told her. “I was going stir-crazy sitting around here. I’m not used to lying around and doing nothing all day.”

“There are things you could do.”

“What? Read or watch TV?” He made a derisive sound. “Do you realize what kind of programs are on during the day?”

She did actually, but she didn’t comment. “Some people call that entertainment.”

“And it is…for some.”

“But not for you.”

He shook his head. “I need a little more action.”

“Like parasailing over the Caribbean?”

He grimaced. “I can see Mom’s been talking about me.”

“In a nice way. I’m sure life is much more exciting in Saint Martin than it is in Minnesota.”

“I haven’t ruled out having excitement here,” he said in a tone of voice that intimated she could be the reason for his excitement.

Annoyingly, heat rushed through her. “With your arm in that sling you’ll probably have to postpone the speed skating and downhill racing for a while,” she said dryly, trying to make light of his remarks.

“That wasn’t exactly the kind of excitement I was hoping to have,” he admitted.

Maddie didn’t think it would be wise to ask what exactly he had in mind. She reached for the cocoa and stirred a generous portion into the milk, sniffing appreciatively. “Marshmallows or whipped cream?”

“Whipped cream,” he answered.

“Good choice.” She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a can of compressed whipped cream, adding a generous squirt to each of the mugs. Then she carried them over to the table, where she noticed the weekend entertainment section of the newspaper was open. Several items had been circled in red.

“Are you planning to go out?” she asked him.

“If it ever stops snowing,” he answered. “I don’t suppose it’s easy to get a cab in this weather.”

“Most people stay home during a snowstorm,” she told him, wondering where he planned to go and if he were planning to go with anyone.

“Some do, some don’t.”

“Why do I get the feeling you don’t?” she asked.

“Maybe because you know I like a challenge.” The words held a double meaning, as evidenced by the look in his eyes. He slid the newspaper in her direction. “So tell me. What do you recommend for excitement?”

She shrugged, then lifted the mug to her lips, licking the whipped cream from the surface of the chocolate. “Depends on what your interests are.”

“What about you? What do you do besides go to lectures on Shakespearean sonnets and play chess?”

She stared at him over the rim of her cup. “I’m afraid my life is boring compared to yours.”

“Maddie, if there’s one label I would never pin on you, it would be boring. You were always doing something out of the ordinary the summer you stayed with us. Putting on a puppet show for Jason, enlisting Garret’s help to learn Russian, making paper mobiles to hang all over the house.” His eyes were wistful with the memories. “Are you still like that?”

“Like what?”

“Full of curiosity. Always looking for something new to try?”

She was, and it was the reason she’d changed her major so often in college and had worked so many different jobs. Her father had said she was like a but
terfly, flitting from idea to idea, always searching for something but never quite finding it.

“I’ve given up trying to teach myself foreign languages,” she said with a grin, not wanting to admit that she hadn’t changed all that much from the fourteen-year-old he’d known.

“What about reading the encyclopedia?”

He knew about that, too? She inwardly groaned. “I guess I was quite the nerd, wasn’t I?”

He tilted his head to one side, as if seeing her in a different light. “Knowing what I know now, I’d say that wasn’t a bad thing.”

Before she could ask him what he meant, the phone rang. “That’s probably your mom calling to say she arrived. Do you want me to get it?” she asked. When he nodded, she walked over to the counter where the cordless rested on its base.

Except it wasn’t Leonie’s voice on the other end. It was a woman asking for Dylan and Maddie promptly handed him the phone. “For you.”

Instead of sitting back down at the table, she picked up her mug, drained the remains of her chocolate and took it over to the sink, not wanting to listen in on his conversation. Not that she needed to worry about that. He left the room with the phone close to his ear. The only words Maddie heard were, “I didn’t expect you to call me here,” before he disappeared out of sight.

As hard as she tried not to be, Maddie found herself curious as to who it was he hadn’t expected to call. The voice on the phone had sounded sultry and kittenish, and immediately Maddie imagined a beautiful woman decked out in a sleek-fitting sheath with an
enormous wide-brimmed hat pulled low over her sensuous eyes.

She shook her head. What did it matter who was calling him? It was nothing to her. She should be grateful the woman had called so she could go upstairs and leave him alone. But the phone call was brief and, before she could get out of the kitchen, Dylan was back.

“Your girlfriend?” she found herself asking, much to her own surprise.

“I’m not currently seeing anyone,” he answered, his eyes sending her a message that clearly said he was free if she was.

She didn’t want to be asking him questions about his personal life and knew the sooner she was away from him, the better it would be. “I should go upstairs.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay down here?” he asked in a tone of voice she thought could have melted the snow off the roof.

“I have work to do,” she said weakly.

“You can’t do work on a day like today,” he argued. “Remember when we were kids and we’d get a snow day? We didn’t go home and clean our rooms. We played.”

The way he said the word
played
sent a shiver of anticipation through her. “And what would we play if I stayed?” She could hardly believe she’d asked the question.

“What about chess?”

She folded her arms across her chest. “You must
be desperate for company if you’re willing to let me beat you in chess.”

“You’re awfully confident that you can beat me, aren’t you? How do you know I haven’t become a member of the Saint Martin chess club and been playing three times a week?”

“Have you?”

“No.” His mouth spread into a grin. “That doesn’t mean I can’t beat you.”

“You couldn’t fourteen years ago,” she reminded him.

“We only played once.”

Ah yes, how well she remembered that game. She’d nearly drooled all over the chess pieces just having him so close to her. It had been hard to remember everything her coach had taught her about keeping her mind sharp to battle her opponent, especially when he’d smelled of some delicious aroma that made her want to swoon.

And she nearly had swooned. He’d looked at her with those eyes and smiled at her with that charming smile and her heart had banged against her chest. But she’d known that she was never going to wow Dylan with her looks. The only chance she had of impressing him was with her wit and it was for that reason she’d been able to focus on the game.

She’d come a long way since then, definitely beyond the stage when a man’s presence could cause her to lose her concentration.

“You lost,” she reminded him, feeling a bit smug at the memory.

“Then I ought to have a chance for revenge, shouldn’t I?”

There was a challenge in his eye. She should have walked away from it, but she’d never been able to turn down the opportunity to beat a man at chess. “All right. One game.”

Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes. “Great. Mom should have a chess set around here somewhere.”

“In the living room in the cabinet under the television,” she told him. “When Shane and Jennifer went to Mexico last year they brought her back an onyx set. I’ll get it.”

He followed her into the living room, saying, “Why not play in here? We can sit in front of the fire.”

Maddie thought it was a bit too cozy a setting for a competition of the kind she intended, but she didn’t object. She sat down on the floor next to the coffee table and put the chess set between them.

“What are we playing for?” he asked as he lowered himself to the carpet.

She arched one eyebrow. “Your pride?”

“That’s a given,” he said with an easy grin. “We need to have something else at stake. What about dinner?”

“If I lose I cook you dinner?” She shook her head. “I already promised your mom I’d do that.”

“I’m not talking about you cooking for me.”

“Oh,
you’re
going to cook for
me
if I lose?” she said on a note of amusement.

“I didn’t say that.”

She shot him a puzzled look.

“If you lose, you have dinner with me—not here, but at a restaurant,” he suggested.

“You don’t like my cooking?”

“This isn’t about cooking, Maddie. It’s about me wanting to take you to dinner,” he said in a velvety smooth voice.

He was looking at her the way a man looks at a woman he’s interested in getting to know better and she found it exciting. Yet she knew not to regard it as anything but flirting on his part, shrugging off the comment as if she hadn’t understood the message in his eyes.