After the Dawn (14 page)

“Hey, Mama, we're here,” Dillon greeted.

Marlene turned from standing in front of a large outdoor grill. She was a striking woman wearing a floral sundress that bared her smooth shoulders and made his hands itch to touch them. Roman felt the punch twenty feet away, felt the unwanted desire clutch at him. But there was something else he hadn't felt in years: the need to protect as much as possess.

“Good evening, Ms. Montgomery,” Samantha greeted.

“It's Marlene, remember?” She gave Samantha a hug and stepped back. “Welcome again.”

Roman was sure his welcome wouldn't be as friendly. “Hello, Ms. Montgomery.”

“Hello, Mr. Santiago,” Marlene greeted with an enthusiasm that surprised him. She glanced between him and Dillon. “You two must be starved. We're having taco hamburgers.”

“My favorite.” Dillon opened the grill, then looked back at his mother. “Isn't this too much food?”

“I told the crew I was grilling.” She lifted her delicate shoulders.

“You're a softy, like somebody else I know,” Dillon quipped.

Samantha arched a brow. “It's a good thing or else she would have said no to working all day and then preparing food for us
and
her crew.”

Dillon picked up a tong and tested a sizzling two-inch beef patty. “Mama, Sam and I have this. You go take a seat.”

“Thanks,” Marlene said. “I thought we'd eat out here. I'll go bring out the other dishes.”

“Can I help?” Roman asked, finally noting that she never quite looked at him.

“You're a guest.” She gestured to a round patio table already set with colorful napkins and plates. “I'll be right out.”

“I think that one is ready to turn,” Samantha said.

“Who has the tongs?” Dillon said, but he quickly turned over the sizzling beef patty.

“I think I'll go check and see if your mother needs help,” Roman said.

“Thanks,” Dillon said, placing the meat on the platter Samantha held.

Roman watched them for a moment longer, wondering if they would keep circling around each other and ignore the sexual attraction or act on it. For himself, he'd decided he was going to act.

The back door led right into the kitchen. Marlene looked up immediately. Her eyes widened, and her lips tightened with annoyance.

“I came to see if I could help.”

“You can take the potato salad out.” She turned back to chopping what appeared to be cabbage and carrots.

He picked up the potato salad. She was two feet away and as wary as a doe.

“Was there something else?” Her eyes and voice clearly said, “Back off.”

“Yes, but it will wait.” He left. The woman had a knife in her hand and she was very annoyed with him.

*   *   *

Dillon was enjoying himself. It might be a business meeting, but he found he liked teasing Sam. She no longer teared up or got that wounded expression. He was still attracted to her, but he could handle it. He bit into his second taco burger, which was pilled four inches high with guacamole, salsa, sour cream, tortilla chips, lettuce, and cheddar.

“Anything so far, Roman?” he asked when he'd swallowed, noting Roman was on his second burger as well, while his mother and Sam weren't even finished with one. Probably because they were talking and the men were eating.

“Getting there.” Roman placed his burger on his plate. “With the help of the other two accountants, we're almost finished scanning in all of the invoices.”

“I hope they remember to keep the real reason you're there quiet,” Dillon said.

“I believe they will. They certainly took to the computer and scanner you had delivered to help me.” Roman picked up his fork. “They said they'd wanted one for some time, but Abe had been against it.”

“He liked being able to see things at will,” Marlene said. “He was also afraid of what would happen if the computer went down.”

“Which can happen,” Sam put in. “It happened more than once to me before I started backing up files.”

“Why didn't you do it originally?” Dillon asked, digging into his coleslaw.

“Overconfident that it wouldn't happen to me, I guess,” Sam answered. “Or maybe like Grandfather, I don't like change.”

Marlene smiled. “He was set in his ways, but he was a wonderful man.”

Roman thought of the rumor he'd overheard. The two assistants had been whispering that Abe was Dillon's father. It was the only reason any of the employees could think of that Dillon was a “consultant.” What would they say if they knew he was a full partner?

“Would you like more lemonade?” Marlene asked, a smile on her face, annoyance in her eyes. She'd caught him staring.

He held up his half-full glass. “Please.”

Dillon poured since the pitcher was closest to him. “Nobody makes lemonade this good.”

“I agree.” Roman took a sip, looking over the rim of his glass at Marlene.

“Have you discovered anything to help my son and Samantha?” Marlene asked.

“Not yet, but with the last six months scanned in, I should be able to soon.” He turned to Dillon. “I do know that there are a lot of sales receipts, so I'm with you that the company shouldn't be losing money.”

Samantha shook her head. “I don't want to think of anyone stealing.”

“It happens.” Dillon handed his mother a folder. “Mama, can you decipher Abe's writing? Evan was the account manager, but the company stopped buying from Collins.”

She peered at it a moment, brought the papers closer.

“You can look at it later,” Dillon said.

Her head came up. She sent him a grateful smile. “I'll go get my glasses. They're in the kitchen.”

So Marlene didn't like wearing her eyeglasses. Roman wouldn't have thought her vain. He'd long since given up the fight against wearing his while he worked.

Wearing black-framed glasses, Marlene came back in seconds, took her seat, and picked up the file. “Just words and partial sentences. ‘Shoddy. Can't believe this. Evan knows better. Trouble coming.'”

“I wonder how long he knew the company was failing and worried about it?” Samantha said softly. “I should have been here.”

Marlene touched her arm. “You're here now. He was confident you and Dillon could turn the company around. I've told you before, so do I.”

Samantha's smile trembled and she looked across the table at Dillon. “We're going to meet the client tomorrow night for dinner and try to get him to come back to Collins.”

“At the Mansion.” Dillon reared back in his chair. “Sam hit it out of the park with that suggestion. It appears the man and his wife like going there. My wallet will also take a hit.”

Samantha's eyes rounded in distress. “I was just teasing. It's a business expense. Of course I plan to pay half. I still have my trust fund.”

“Mama would disown me if I let you pay.” Dillon stood, picking up his empty plate and his mother's. “Tell you what. You can buy lunch tomorrow for us.”

“Deal.” Sam stood and picked up her plate. “Can I take your plate, Roman?”

“You're a guest. I can do it.” Marlene started to rise.

“No, you can't. Grab it, Sam,” Dillon ordered. “Sam and I can bring out the dessert and coffee too. Cooking was enough.”

Sam picked up Roman's plate. “You're not as clueless and as chauvinistic as I thought.”

Dillon grunted and started inside. Laughing, Samantha followed.

*   *   *

Marlene sat across from Roman, looking beautiful and as untouchable as the distant stars overhead. He smelled the fragrance of the flowers, felt the faint wind on his face. “It's beautiful here,” he ventured.

“Thank you.” She picked up her lemonade, no doubt to end the conversation.

“The meal was the best I've had since you cooked breakfast for me.”

“I did it for Dillon.” There was enough frost in her voice to ensure that most men shut up and made a quick exit.

“Dillon is a man I'm proud to call a friend as well as a business associate.”

“Thank you. That's very kind of you to say so.”

Her words were precise, very formal, and they didn't invite conversation. With Dillon and Samantha, she was loving and supportive. Roman braced both arms on the table and leaned forward.

“Forgive me, but I believe in being frank. Have I offended you in some way?”

She lowered the glass. “I just met you.”

“And sidestepped the question.”

She placed the glass on the table and leaned forward just as he had. “Since you believe in frankness, let me be just as frank. You're a business associate of my son's, and that's all you'll ever be. I'm too old for affairs and wouldn't get married if my life depended on it.” She stood and picked up the serving dishes. “Excuse me. I'll see if they need help in the kitchen.”

Roman stared after her until she disappeared, then leaned back in his chair and sipped his lemonade. Well, she'd certainly put him in his place. And intrigued him. An intriguing dichotomy.

He didn't want to get married either. Just the thought made him shudder. No woman was going to deceive him again. But he wasn't a monk, and no matter how he fought against it, he'd like to kiss Marlene until he melted that frosty reserve and found the passionate woman he was sure lay beneath.

She was proving once again that she was the exception to the rule of no women while working.

*   *   *

Friday evening, Samantha opened the front door of Collins mansion. Dillon groaned, his body hardened. Sam was doing it again. He really wanted a taste of her. Sam had a body made for a man's pleasure. He'd like nothing more than to pull the little one-shoulder black dress slowly from her body and lick every delectable inch of her.

She gulped. Licked her lips.

He saw the desire in her eyes even in the shadows. She wanted him.

“We, er, better get to it,” she said.

Too bad she wasn't talking about undressing and doing wicked, delicious things to each other's naked bodies. He stepped back. “Yeah.”

She stepped over the threshold, closed the door and started down the wide steps. Beside her, Dillon didn't touch her. No sense tempting fate. He'd never been hot and bothered enough to try to make love to a woman in his Ferrari, but tonight he wouldn't bet on it.

“Nice car. I can see why you wanted to drive.”

Her voice sounded breathy. She was trying to act normal. He'd give her points for that.

Wordlessly, he opened the door. She sat and her dress rose to midthigh. He wanted nothing more than to drop to his knees and slide it up even farther.

“Please close the door.”

His gaze moved slowly from her incredible legs to her bared shoulder to her quivering lips. She knew what he wanted.

“It isn't polite to be late.”

He closed the door and went around and got in the low-slung car. The motor rumbled. Tension coiled in him.

He'd like nothing better than to let it all out. The sheriff would never catch him. Since Dillon was the only one in town who owned a Ferrari, he'd know it was him but wouldn't dare call in to the next town. He'd be too proud to admit that Dillon had outrun and outsmarted him. There also remained the lie about Abe being Dillon's father. Abe might be gone, but he was still respected.

“Dillon, we need to go.”

He looked at Sam. She looked incredibly beautiful and neat. Not a hair out of place. He'd like to muss her up in a wide bed with silken sheets.

She licked her lips. “Would you like for me to drive?”

The thought was so outrageous, it snapped him out of his lusty haze. “Not even my mother has driven this baby.” He put the car in gear and took off.

“But you'd let her if she asked,” Sam said with complete assurance.

“You're not my mother.” He shifted into second.

“Thank goodness,” she whispered, but he heard her.

Tonight was going to test him to the limits, and he'd always been a man to push the limits as far as he could.

*   *   *

Roman pulled off his eyeglasses, shut off the scanner/printer, and powered down his laptop. Standing, he stretched his long arms over his head, twisted his neck. He'd been working steadily since a quick lunch around one. All of the invoices were in, now the real job of tediously working though them could begin.

He glanced at his watch. Six thirty-three. He was probably the last person working. Samantha and Dillon would have been there as well if they weren't heading to Dallas for the business dinner.

He picked up the laptop, headed for the parking lot and found it as empty as he'd expected. He placed the laptop on the front seat, exited the plant, waving as he passed the security checkpoint. The wave wasn't returned.

Waiting for a couple of cars to pass, Roman clicked on his signal to turn left toward Dallas, a long hot shower, and a good meal. The cars passed, but Roman sat there.

He wanted something entirely different.

The strident blast of a truck's horn behind him had him glancing in the rearview mirror. The security guard. Apparently, he knew exactly where he wanted to go.

Roman flicked the signal to the right and headed into Elms Fork.

And Marlene.

 

Eight

The last customer had picked up his car from the garage. The tools were cleaned and stored and the bay doors shut. All but one of the workers had left. It was peaceful and quiet. She liked this time best. With no interruptions, she could catch up on the never-ending paperwork.

Tonight she'd work on the payroll, and once that was finished, she planned to order supplies. She didn't have to go home and cook for Dillon, though she never minded. She relished those days he was home.

She paused, removing her eyeglasses. She'd give anything if he decided to move back to Elms Fork permanently. She'd never ask him, of course. He loved the life he had carved out for himself. With his successful business ventures, he didn't have to worry about money.