Body Heat (Vintage Category Romance) (18 page)

“
Since I decided to take some control of my life.” He shifted his massive weight from one foot to another and turned slightly away from her.

“
Well, that’s a switch,” she countered.

“
What do you mean by that?”

“
I mean that it took you long enough to figure that out, didn’t it?”

“
It’s taken me long enough to realize that I’m looking at a woman who seduces men for money.”

Blaire bristled.
Why was he believing this bull? “I told you, that was a lie.”

“
Prove it.” He leaned his body into hers.

“
What?” Blaire stepped closer, practically nose to nose with him, her fists firmly planted on her hips.

“
I said prove it.”

“
I can’t. She’s lying. It’s your Aunt Reva, Darian. Remember?” She threw up her hands. “You’re just going to have to believe me. That’s not the way it happened.”

“
And why should I?”

“
Why shouldn’t you? I’ve never done anything to hurt you before.”

Darian paused and stared at her.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“
I haven’t done anything to hurt you Darian. If anything, you were the one doling out the hurt. If I recall,
you
were the one who gave me the brush off the morning after…the morning after we….” She glanced at Reva, smirking a few feet away from her, and then lowered her voice. “You know what I’m talking about. You were mean and hateful. Then you left me. All alone. Didn’t you think that hurt? Don’t you dare try to turn this thing around to make me the bad guy. I haven’t done anything wrong!”

She
pushed past him and headed for the entryway, determined to get the hell away from there before she actually did explode.

“
Blaire! Come back,” Darian shouted.

“
Go screw yourself!” As she brushed past the hired help who had escorted her into the room earlier, and pulled on the front door knob, she tried to stifle a sob.

“
Blaire! I want an answer,” he shouted. “Was it me? Or was it my money?”

Blaire stopped in her tracks.
Why was he acting this way? Where was the man who so tenderly took away her virginity? Her
virginity.

She angrily spun.
“Yes, Darian,” she hurled. “It was your goddamn money I was after.
Your money.
I was after your goddamn money!” The hell with it, she thought. Let him believe whatever he wants to believe.
I’m done.

She
turned and jerked open the door and left, slamming the solid piece of oak as she did.

****

Darian followed, but by the time he made it out the door, she had started the ignition and spun passed the covered porch. He watched her wind down the drive. His breathing deepened, his chest expanded and deflated in rapid succession; his fists clenched and unclenched as they hung at his sides. When his aunt joined him, he simply looked at her with an unfeeling, non-revealing, calculating look that he could tell startled her.

At least that was the look he hoped he was projecting.

Then he turned and stalked away leaving her standing in the cold.

Damn her
,
he chided himself as he entered the house.
Damn Blaire Kincaid for complicating my life.

****

Blaire pounded the steering wheel with her fist as she descended the mountain, her vision blurred by a thick veil of tears. When she reached the bottom and the gates slowly drew back, she exited the MacGlenary estate and smashed her foot onto the brake so hard that the car skidded out into the road, and her body flew forward against the steering wheel. She came to an abrupt stop. Lowering her head against her knuckles, she finally, blessedly, let herself cry.

She
’d wondered for weeks what she’d do if she ever saw him again. Wondered how she’d feel, how she’d handle it. Well, now she knew.

She handled it just like she handled
everything else in her life. Very badly. Squeezing her eyes shut against the hot tears that spilled over onto her cheeks, against her clammy skin, she wanted to give up. Just give it all up. But then what?

She didn
’t know.

So, she just sobbed.

For the night they’d made love, for the morning he left her alone, for his pain at having lost his child, and for her pain at having lost him… But never for the fact that she had given him her virginity. She didn’t regret that at all. Although it obviously wasn’t important to him.

She
’d wanted to touch him. She’d wanted him to rush forward and fold herself into his warm, barrel-chested body. She wanted to finally feel that moment of acceptance, that final surrender, when he held her and she melted against him in an embrace that could only last a lifetime. And she wanted to hear him say he missed her, that he’d come back for her, that he loved her.

Loved
her.

She had wanted all that.
Even though she tried to deny any of those feelings over the past few weeks, she couldn’t deny them when she saw him. She loved him. And now, now as her chest felt ripped wide open, exposing every nerve in her heart to the cold, brutal world, she knew she’d never rid herself of her feelings for Darian. She would always love him. Always.

There was simply nothing to be done about it
, however. He would never return that love.

****

Snow fell for three days after that and as Darian stood at the huge bay window facing out over the mountain, he thought of Kentucky. Reminded of the few days he and Blaire spent together at the cabin, snowbound, he recalled how those days were like an oasis in the midst of a lifelong dessert. Hating to admit it even to himself, she had come to him like an angel, at a time when he felt most desperate, and gave him hope—however brief.

Until he drove her away.

And now he was here. Back in Vermont. And everything had changed.

As angry as
he’d been earlier in the week, she had looked so beautiful standing there in the den, the fire in the fireplace backlighting her. And she had returned that anger. Her eyes had flashed surprise and then blue-fire fury, as she’d turned from Reva to him. At the moment of recognition—at that point when she’d realized that it was him standing before her—he had witnessed the longing and the passion stirring behind her eyes. She couldn’t hide it any more than he. That’s why he had turned to anger her; that’s why he’d grasped at anything to get the passion out of her eyes. Why he’d indicated that he believed Reva.

And it nearly killed him.
As it had done when he watched her leave him three weeks earlier.

For nearly a week he had waited at the cabin to see if she would return, but she didn
’t. Then after the third week alone, he couldn’t stand it anymore. The tranquil existence that he once cherished was now driving him crazy. He had no choice but to leave. Not to find her, just to leave.

Figure out what his grandfather had done. Where his life was going next.

Thinking back to the morning she left, he still felt the cold dampness that had settled into his body and tightened his muscles as sat high on the ridge waiting for her to open the door and leave. He knew she would. He knew he’d win—if that were what you would call it. And when she’d finally stepped out onto the porch, her gear thrown over her shoulder, and he’d watched her struggle down the path to the creek and then back up the holler back to her car—without a backward glance—he’d felt as if his heart had been torn from his chest and was leaving with her.

No, not his heart, but his very soul.

Now, he examined the tiny ice crystals forming in the windowsill as the fat, fluffy flakes drifted lazily on top of each other. He was mesmerized, picturing the Appalachians as he closed his eyes. For four winters he’d lived there, surviving. On his own. The quiet beauty was unsurpassed anywhere and he longed to be there—but couldn’t bear it without her. And that would never be. Now that Christmas was drawing near, he thought often about what it might have been like to share Christmas Eve with Blaire.

Then he shook his head and opened his eyes to the stark, cold truth.
No gift, no holiday, could ever measure up to what she had given him that night. And although he cared for her deeply, loved her deeply, he would not saddle her with the burden of his problems. Not ever. No matter how much he wanted her. No matter how much he loved her.

So why are you here?
Why did you come back to the one place you swore you’d never come again? Why did you come to the one place you knew she’d be?

He turned his back on the picture-perfect snow scene behind him, suddenly realizing it had lost its beauty.
He hadn’t a clue why he’d come back. He just knew he couldn’t stay in that empty cabin one moment longer.

****

Blaire scribbled across the yellow legal pad, the phone tucked between her ear and her right shoulder, and stretched across the length of her desk with her left hand to dig into an open file drawer. She was trying to retrieve a photograph of Charlie Hawkins helping his brother-in-law move a piano out of his front door and into the back of a pick-up truck. The man on the other end of the receiver squawked back at her.

“
I’ve got it, Mr. Devanthal. Pictures, signed affidavits from witnesses—I’ll have my report to you first thing Monday morning.” She scribbled more onto the yellow pad and listened intently. “Sure. It’s a wrap. There’s no way he can weasel out of this. If he’s got a bad back, then I’m Shirley Temple.” She listened and wrote some more, shifting the phone from right ear to left. “Yes, sir. Monday morning. Right.” Then she hung up.

With her thoughts intent on the case at hand, she continued to record sketchy notes of the conversation and a couple of other tidbits she wanted to add to her report.
She smiled. When she got through with Charlie Hawkins, he wouldn’t be drawing disability insurance any longer. Not with the evidence she’d dug up on him. Even though it wasn’t exactly the type of investigative work she preferred, it was lucrative enough. Insurance companies paid big, especially if it’s going to save them money in the long run.

Blaire looked up and out the window as she chewed on the end of her pencil.
Well, it wasn’t the stuff of Magnum PI, but it was a start and if she could continue this type of thing here, when she relocated, she….

She listened as the door to her office creaked and fell open.
There had been no knock; Blaire was sure. When she turned fully toward the noise, she fell still—although her heart nearly jumped out of her chest.

He walked determinedly toward her.
“We need to talk.”

Darian strode across her office toward
her; expensive overcoat keeping out the chill, matched with shoes, pants, shirt, tie and sweater that probably came from the same expensive department store in New York. He certainly didn’t look like Darian. And she wanted nothing to do with him at the moment, despite her blood racing hot through her body at the sight of him.

Dropping the pencil into a drawer, Blaire focused her attention on the documents on her desk, organizing them into a neat pile
and then slipping them into a folder. She didn’t look up. “We have nothing to talk about, Darian.”

He reached over to still her hands fluttering across her desk.
She stared at them then, so large and tan, even in the middle of winter, as they pinned hers to the desk. Then as if her eyes had a mind of their own, she lifted her gaze to look him square in the face. He’d let his beard grow out for the last several days. She chuckled inwardly. He couldn’t totally take the man out of the woods either, she mused.

“
Let me take you to lunch.”

Mesmerized by his lips,
Blaire felt herself lean toward him. Catching herself, she jerked back and up off her seat, pulling her hands away from his, burying them into the pockets of her cardigan sweater.

“
I’m busy. I’ve got a client coming in here in about twenty minutes. I’ve got a report to write up,” she watched his face with intent, “and I can’t take time to indulge myself in a leisurely lunch. Besides, why would you want to do that anyway?”

She watched his eyes close;
she much preferred them open. The smoky gray which turned flint-like when he was making love to her were more expressive than he probably knew. She liked looking into his eyes, but she wasn’t sure exactly what they were telling her today. He sighed and opened them again, leaning over the desk, his palms still supporting his upper body.

“
Okay, then. Can I take those twenty minutes? There are some things we need to discuss.”

For several long seconds Blaire watched him
; then she motioned to the chair beside the desk and he sat down. “Okay. Twenty minutes.” She looked at her watch. “What do you want?”

Blaire
smiled inward at the irony. That it was that he who sat across the desk from her. Darian MacGlenary. The missing heir. Disappeared eighteen years ago. She’d heard of him since she was a child. And now, here he was. The man she had fallen in love with. A stabbing pain penetrated her chest.