Remember the Dreams (9 page)

Toni's jaw tightened. "The guys are gone, Kyle," she stated tersely, turning to open the car door. "So you can drop the macho act. If you're hurt, tell me. And give me your keys."

"I said, I'm fine. And I'll drive."

Toni raised her eyes heavenward and blinked back the raindrops that landed on her face. "Don't be ridiculous, Donovan. You are hurt and I'm perfectly capable of driving. Now, can you get in the car by yourself? Or do you plan on riding home on the fender?"

Kyle frowned at the edge in her voice and pushed himself away from the car. It was apparent enough that he was just as puzzled by her tone as she was.

Toni had no idea why she was acting like this. She was so afraid that Kyle might really be injured, yet something was preventing her from showing that worry. So what if he'd ignored her a few minutes ago? It was stupid to be miffed because she'd been excluded from the convivial group of men.

The irony of the situation struck her as she watched Kyle carefully lower himself into the passenger seat. He had reacted in much the same way when she'd been talking with Todd and Jerry when they'd first arrived at the park. Was her behavior as revealing as his had been?

She slid behind the wheel and, after starting the engine, turned on the heater. Her eyes were still on the temperature switch when she quietly said, "Take off your shirt."

Kyle's eyes darted to her. "What?"

"You heard me." Her lips curved mischievously as she pushed a damp strand of hair from her face. If it hadn't been for the fact that Kyle was in pain, the situation could have presented some interesting possibilities. "It's soaking wet and" —she motioned to where his muddy sleeve had brushed against the seat—"you're getting the car dirty. Besides, I can't see what you did to yourself unless you ..."

"I didn't do anything to myself," he interrupted, staring down at the hole in the knee of his jeans.

"Then why haven't you let go of your side?"

"Because I'm cold?" he ventured.

"All the more reason to take off that wet shirt."

He clearly didn't want to comply. "Well, if you won't buy that excuse, how about ..."

It occurred to her then that maybe he couldn't take it off. "Can you lift your arms?" she cut in.

The slight tightening of his jaw told her nothing.

For a moment, Toni had been entertaining the idea of using this opportunity to provoke some kind of response from him. But the dullness in his eyes and the way he seemed to wince whenever he moved told her that now was not the time to play temptress.

His jersey was partially loosened from the waistband of his jeans. Telling herself that the only reason she was doing this was to see how badly he was hurt—maybe he did need an x-ray —she reached over and lifted his hand from where he was clutching his left side.

The instant her warm hand folded over his cooler one, she felt him stiffen. He said nothing though, and with her heart beating in her throat, she pulled his shirt free of his pants and started to lift up the soggy fabric.

"Gee, Collins," Kyle said, trying to chuckle but apparently deciding that it wasn't worth the effort, or the pain, "I didn't know you cared."

"Well, I do." Could he hear any deeper meaning in her voice? "So, help me peel this thing off, will you? Lift your arm."

He did, slowly testing the motion to see how much pain was going to be involved, then managed a relieved smile when it didn't cause too much additional discomfort.

The material clung damply, and as Toni pushed it up she could see a faint, but distinctly football-shaped, patch of red covering his ribs.

Instinct drew her fingers to that sore-looking outline, and she gently traced over it. She tried not to think about how good it felt to touch him, or how badly she wanted to run her fingers through the dark hairs curling over his broad chest. His muscles grew rigid beneath her hand, and she saw his chest expand with his quick, quietly drawn breath. A fine blanket of goose bumps sprang up on his skin.

His voice sounded husky. "I think you're right about getting out of this thing. Get my jacket, will you? It's behind the seat."

Reluctantly Toni pulled back and, pulling herself to her knees, reached between the seats. She heard a hiss of air being drawn through his teeth and felt, rather than saw, him leaning toward the dashboard.

"Hold it a minute," she sighed, bumping his shoulder and streaking mud down the front of her sweater as she settled back on her side. Sportscars were so blasted small! "What are you trying to do?"

"I'm trying to turn on the defroster."

It had begun raining in earnest now. Cold, fat drops pelted the roof, and the warmth of their breath had fogged up the windows.

Toni nipped the lever he'd been trying to reach and dropped his jacket between them. She grasped the edge of his sleeve. "Pull your arm out."

Between the two of them they managed to get the jersey off—a fair amount of mud now clinging to Toni—and she started to zip him into his running jacket. Though he kept insisting that nothing was broken, he finally did admit to being a little sore.

He had been muttering something about not being totally helpless—a clearly debatable issue at the moment—when she raised her eyes to meet the smile in his.

She was draped over the console, and his hand was resting by her hip. His head was only inches away, and as she saw that smile fading, her fingers stilled in the middle of his chest.

Suddenly, it seemed very quiet. And that silence seemed to take on the same intensity she was now seeing in his smoldering gray eyes. Toni's heart felt it had just stopped, then jerked back to life in frantic double-time.

Kyle's gaze slowly caressed her face, becoming more heated as it lingered on her softly parted mouth. She felt his hand brush against her corduroy-covered thigh.

All she would have to do is lean forward a little and . . .

"Toni," Kyle whispered thickly, his breath fanning her cheek. "I need ..."

His hand, still lying lightly against her thigh, pressed more firmly. It felt like he had just made a fist.

"What do you need, Kyle?" Her voice was quiet, and heavy with anticipation.

The desire so evident in his eyes disappeared abruptly, and he put his other hand on her shoulder, nudging her down to her seat. "I need a shower," he muttered, scowling down at the mud drying on his jeans. Running his index finger across his knee, he glanced sideways at Toni, then turned to run his finger down her nose. She caught a glimpse of his familiar, teasing grin.

Slanting him a peevish glance—one that could have been interpreted as either disappointment at what hadn't happened, or annoyance at what he'd just done—she started to wipe the mud from her nose.

"Leave it," he chuckled, grabbing her wrist and placing her hand on the wheel. "There's something about seeing a princess with a little dirt on her face that's sort of appealing."

Her mouth twisted wryly as she wiped the mud off anyway. "You have a very perverted sense of. . ."

"Beauty?" he offered.

No, she corrected mentally, backing the car out of the parking space. Timing!

They were half way home before Kyle convinced Toni that he didn't need to see a doctor, and the subject of his bruised ribs was abandoned. "Do you have a date with Greg tonight?" Kyle asked with credible casualness.

The rain demanded that she pay attention to the wet streets, so she couldn't do much more than glance at him. He was looking out his window. "I don't have any plans for the evening. Why?"

"Just curious. When do you plan on starting the great seduction?"

Somehow his last two words sounded like they should begin with capital letters.

"What makes you think it's Greg I'm ... ah . . . interested in?"

"You mean you're seeing someone else, too?"

The car behind them pulled out to pass, so Toni could only imagine Kyle's apoplectic expression. "Yes, I am. I see him quite a bit actually. And since you brought it up, maybe you could help me. ..."

"Listen," he interjected quickly. "I've got to be in Portland the first part of next week, so would you mind checking with Madeline when she comes in on Wednesday to make sure every-thing'll be ready for next Saturday night? I won't be getting home until late Friday and ..."

Kyle wasn't acting like Kyle at all. Never had he refused to discuss a subject with her, and his abrupt turn in the conversation was glaringly obvious.

It was also apparent that he didn't know that he was the subject that had just been dropped so quickly.

". . . So you won't mind taking care of things for me?" he concluded when she pulled the car into the drive.

Toni cut the engine and turned deceivingly cool blue eyes to him. She'd always been quite good at hiding her feelings, but she had the feeling that her mask had developed a few cracks. She didn't want to hide anything from Kyle now anyway. "Don't worry about the party," she smiled. "I'm sure Madeline's got everything under control. Now, stay put for a minute and I'll help you out."

Surprisingly enough, Kyle didn't argue. And when he eased himself out of the car and she slid her arm around his waist, she could have sworn that his lips brushed the top of her head. His right arm was draped over her shoulder, but when she glanced up there was nothing in his expression to indicate that anything of the sort had happened at all. Did she want him so much that she was beginning to imagine things? Just as she was imagining that his fingers were lightly caressing her arm as they ascended the stairs and stopped in front of the door?

"Your hair's wet," Kyle scolded, patting her on the head as if she were a child. "And you must be freezing. Your sweater's damp, too." He made a tsking sound with his tongue. "Not to mention dirty."

The teasing affection in his voice sounded more brotherly than anything else, and her more wild imaginings rapidly vanished.

"I'm not cold," she retorted, sliding her key into the lock.

His arm was still supporting part of his weight by resting on her shoulder. The warmth of his body permeated her sweater and the side of her pants where his hip pressed against her.

He drew her closer. "If you're not cold, then how come you're shivering?"

Another shudder ran through her. It had nothing to do with temperature extremes. External ones, anyway.

When she didn't respond, or make any attempt to move, Kyle pushed the door open with his foot. "Come on, princess. I know what you need to warm you up."

Toni told herself not to get her hopes up, but she couldn't deny the tiny thrill of excitement racing through her when his arm tightened and he guided her into the entryway. She was so caught up in that sudden rush of expectancy that she didn't even notice how easily Kyle was moving.

At least she didn't notice it until he walked over to the wet bar in the living room and reached for a bottle of brandy.

"Here," he said, handing her a snifter of deep amber liquid. "This should help. A hot shower probably wouldn't hurt either." Anticipation sank to deflation as he tapped the end of her nose. "You did get a little muddy, you know?"

His hand was clutching his side again as he headed down the hall to his room.

Toni, with a slightly frustrated shrug, took a sip of the brandy and headed straight for her closet.

K
yle peeled his clothes off and dropped them on the black tiles of his bathroom floor. Glancing at his naked reflection in the mirror, he tentatively felt the oval bruise on his ribs. When he touched it, it just hurt. But when Toni's fingers had so gently traced over his skin, he hadn't even been aware of the pain. Just like he'd forgotten about it when she'd helped him into the house. He hadn't needed her assistance. But it was such a perfect excuse to feel her against him again that he couldn't pass it up.

Turning the shower on full blast, he stepped under the steamy spray. Toni had been right. The combined weight of Les, Todd and Gary had felt like a Mack truck. With a groan, he reached for the shampoo and dumped a liberal amount on his head—thinking that, right after he washed it, he should probably have it examined.

He had come so close to repeating the same mistake he'd made the other night. While Toni had been helping him out of his jersey and into his jacket, all he could think about was how wonderful it would feel to bury his hands in her hair and draw that gorgeous mouth to his. It had taken a moment for the message in her darkening eyes to register, but when it had, thankfully, he'd regained his senses. She had been concerned about him. That was all. And it was only the type of concern one friend feels for another. He'd noticed her acting a little strangely lately—wary maybe?—but he was sure that it was only because she didn't want to risk a repeat of his performance the other night. She was so clearly going out of her way not to mention it. And she was making it very evident that she was interested in someone else.

❧

Toni pulled open her closet doors and looked down at the floor. There, just as Madeline had promised, was a box. She could hear Kyle's shower running across the hall, and deciding that her own shower could wait, she knelt down and pulled the box toward her.

Her eyebrows knitted together as she lifted the lid and picked up the note lying on top of the books.

I picked out the ones that I thought would be most helpful, and by the time you finish reading these, I'm sure you'll have come up with a plan that's guaranteed to sabotage his defenses. Let me know if you need more. Good luck with your research, and with him.

Love,

Madeline,

P.S. Don't worry, I won't breathe a word.

"You won't have to, Madeline." Toni smiled, picking up one of the books. "Not if you waltz around here humming the 'Wedding March.'"

Flipping through the pages, Toni drew in a deep breath and pushed the carton to the back of her closet. She'd get started on her "research" right after she got cleaned up. It was a good thing she was a fast reader. There had to be at least three dozen romance novels in that box!

Three hours later, Toni lay sprawled across her bed. After a quick shower, she'd pulled on a pair of soft chamois slacks and a huge raglan-sleeve sweater. Her hair floated across her back in a gossamer veil, and shoving back the long tresses that kept falling over her shoulder, she propped herself up on her elbow and turned another page.

Her mind was already analyzing some of the scenes she'd read, paring them down to fit into the plan that was already formulating. Seducing Kyle looked like it might be fun—if she could just get up her nerve.

Nerves seemed to be in abundant supply at the moment. Thinking about Kyle in some of those scenes was playing absolute havoc with her nervous system. Whew! she thought, with an audible sigh. The hero certainly fits Kyle's description. But I'm lacking in a few pertinent areas.

Toni wasn't going to dwell on insignificant details at the moment. The overall picture was what was important. The erotic scene she'd just read had taken place on a bearskin rug in front of a roaring fire. The heroine had been drenched to the skin after falling into an ice-encrusted lake, and the hero had taken her into his cabin to warm her.

With an ironic chuckle, Toni closed the book and propped her chin on her crossed arms. When she and Kyle had gotten home, she'd been cold— nothing like the woman in the book, but definitely chilly. If she'd been on her toes, she might have maneuvered Kyle into the living room where they could have built a fire and . . . "He would have handed me a glass of brandy and disappeared," she mumbled, completing her thought.

Angled as she was across her bed, she could see her door being opened slightly and Kyle's frame shadowing the two-inch space. Just as she jerked her head up, the door swung wide and Kyle leaned against the doorjamb. His shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a good portion of the chest she'd envisioned in the mythical firelight. Her throat felt very, very dry.

"I would have knocked, but I didn't want to disturb you. Just wanted to see if you were asleep."

"I was reading." Somehow she forced her eyes away from where they'd wandered to the swirl of dark hair above the waistband of his cords. "You look like you just woke up."

Kyle watched as she swung her legs around to sit on the edge of the bed. "I did. And you look about sixteen years old with your hair down like that."

"I know." Gathering a handful of hair between her fingers and thumb, she began twisting it into a coil. "That's why I wear it up. Image, you know."

"I like it down. You hungry?"

His comment was made quite absently, but Toni let her hair fall back down around her shoulders. "A little. Did you want me to fix lunch?"

A lazy smile creased his sleepy features. "Since it's almost five-thirty, I think dinner might be more appropriate. But it's my turn to cook, and since that's the last thing I feel like doing, I'll just go get us some hamburgers. Want one?"

Toni's eyes shifted back to his open shirt. Though the fabric covered most of it, she could see the edge of a very angry looking bruise. "How are you feeling?"

"Stiff."

"I'm not surprised. And you're in no shape to go anywhere." Lifting herself from the bed, she pulled the hem of her sweater over her hips and started toward the door. "I'll fix dinner."

Kyle must have still been groggy from his nap. There was an unfamiliar vulnerability in his expression, and Toni was certain that he didn't even know it was there.

"You're an angel," he sighed when she stepped in front of him to turn out the light.

Her heart raced like a triphammer as she reached up to push away the lock of hair that lay over his forehead. "Thanks, Kyle." She smiled, gratified by the way his whole body had just seemed to tense—and adding to herself that he probably wouldn't think she was much of an angel if he knew what she was up to.

The second she had touched him, that vulnerability had vanished. As she walked away, she could feel his cool, questioning eyes on her back.
Plan I: The Subtle Approach
had just been put into action.