Sold to the Highest Bidder (13 page)

Or maybe that was the light, fresh scent of her perfume teasing his senses. He swallowed.

“Are you standing there all day or coming in?” She stood back, holding the door open.

“In,” he replied, stepping inside the room. He looked around at the antique furniture, the unique style of historical blended with the opulent. Despite having lived around Durango all his life, he’d never been inside one of these rooms. It had been a particular dream of theirs to spend a night here and instead he’d invested in his own vacation properties and the Animas Resort.

But as Ella went to the dining table and lit a candle, his body experienced a familiar tensing. Perhaps tonight they’d have their night.

Chapter Eight

Ella lit the candles on the table, using the opportunity to present her back to Devin and catch her breath. Lord, he looked handsome. Sexy. Even a little…dangerous. It was the glint in his eye. The curve of his lips. It was also the powerful memory of making love with him in his office this morning. It was potent enough to make a woman stop and think.

But she had to keep her eye on the prize. Relax. Get him talking. She had to put their personal relationship to one side for the present. She needed to know why he’d paid for Betty’s bills with no obvious benefit to himself. Her boss had sensed there was a story and she got the same feeling. Finding it meant she would be one step closer to a better job and a new life. Devin was a prominent businessman these days, and people loved reading about one of their own. The fact that Devin was persistently keeping it hidden had to mean it was significant. Why else wouldn’t he just tell her?

The ability to focus on work was almost a relief, to be honest. She shook the match, extinguishing it, and exhaled. Putting off their other issues until another time lightened the weight on her shoulders. At least this interview was something she could control.

“I thought we could dine in,” she said softly, pasting a smile to her face. Not too bright, not suggestive. Friendly. Trying to make him comfortable and ask the questions she needed to ask while sitting in a restaurant seemed counterproductive. She needed him to let his guard down. “That way we can talk without being overheard.”

Devin came farther inside the room, slowly, taking his time as he went past a high table adorned with fresh flowers. She watched with fascination as he trailed his finger over the petal of a bronze chrysanthemum. A finger that had just this morning slid up the tender skin of her thigh…

“Just talk?” he asked finally, and she suddenly felt bereft of oxygen at the subtle taunting hidden in the words. She reminded herself to breathe. That she was sexually attracted to Dev was indisputable. She always had been, ever since puberty hit and she’d finally understood the fuss about the differences between boys and girls. Of course, in those days desire took the form of learning to kiss and holding hands while her heartbeat quickened. These days it was hotter, faster and more dangerous.

But it wasn’t enough anymore. As she stared at him in his suit, she compared him to the jeans-and-boots man she’d encountered all those weeks ago. That man was comfortable in the battered pickup truck. The Devin she’d encountered this morning dressed in tailored suits and drove the SUV she’d seen parked in front of his offices. While the successful businessman before her still seemed capable of ringing her bell, she realized she did not know who he was any longer. He’d changed. He had a harder edge to him that made her uncomfortable. Despite his generosity towards Betty, there was a part of him that seemed willing to do whatever it took to get what he wanted. Tearing up the papers today was a prime example.

How far would he go once he found out about the baby? Her fingers lightly touched her still-flat stomach. Could he really be ruthless? If he knew about the baby, the divorce would be a non-issue. He’d been clear about wanting children from the beginning, when the time was right. If he found out she was carrying his child he’d never let her go. It wouldn’t matter where she lived. She’d never be free to live her own life.

What had happened this morning had been borne out of lust and perhaps flavored with memories. But it hadn’t been about Devin and Ella
now
.

So answering, “Yes, just talk,” came easier than she would have expected. She gestured with a hand, desperately trying to erase her thoughts about their personal relationship and keep things business. “Please, sit down and have a look at the menu. You must be hungry.”

He waited until she was seated at the small table before sitting himself, a courtesy she hadn’t expected. The Devin she’d known had lacked polish, simply because he’d never been in a position to learn it. But he seemed to slide into those good manners now as easily as he’d slid onto his couch for the ball game at the cabin. Her brow wrinkled slightly as she picked up the menu. Which one was the real Devin? Perhaps after tonight she’d know. She’d know why a man with only a passing acquaintance with Betty Tucker as a boy became a man who helped with her household chores and went so far as to spend tens of thousands of dollars on her medical care. How far would he go for a child he loved? She had a suspicion she already knew the answer. To the ends of the earth.

“Do you want to share a starter?” he asked quietly. She lifted her eyes over the rim of the menu and met his gaze. Why, after all that had transpired between them lately, did he suddenly feel like a complete stranger? Like she was on some kind of a blind date?

“Perhaps the grilled shrimp?” She’d looked at the appetizer menu and other than a salad, the shrimp was all that appealed. She’d never had that problem before. But as each day passed, she was realizing that pregnancy changed a lot of things—big and small. Appetite was the tip of the iceberg. And she had to eat. Another lightheaded spell and Dev would start noticing something was off.

“Sounds good. If you’re ready, I can call down…”

Ella stood, amazed when Dev made the move to do so as well. “It’s all right,” she said, waving a hand. “I invited you here, remember? I can order for us. Just tell me what you want.”

He did and she called in the order. But as she hung up the phone, she realized she should have preordered for them because now the minutes until their food came would tick away at a snail’s pace.

“Would you like a drink?” She held up a bottle of chilled sparkling water. “Or I can order up something a little stronger if you’d like.”

“The water is fine,” he replied. He pushed back his chair and came forward, his shoes making no sound on the carpeted floor. Her hand wobbled as she poured the liquid into a glass and held it out. The fact that there was a four-poster bed in the room hadn’t escaped her notice. But there would be no using it this evening. She was determined.

“Thank you.” He took the glass, sipped, peered into her face. “What’s got you so nervous, Ell? You’re jumpier than a frog at courtin’ time.” He smiled at her, the dimple in his cheek threatening to pop. Like he knew exactly what was making her nervous.

She sipped and concentrated on making her face relax. “Nothing,” she replied, raising an eyebrow. “I’m hungry though. I didn’t have much lunch.”

It was the wrong thing to say. He frowned, coming even closer so that she couldn’t escape the heady scent of his aftershave. “And you were pale this morning. Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

“I feel fine,” she replied, taking a deeper drink and bravely meeting his eyes. She had dutifully bought a turkey sandwich and carton of milk after leaving his office, knowing the queasiness that had recently appeared only got worse on an empty stomach. But that was long gone. She looked up into his eyes, unable to remain untouched by his concern. “I truly just need something to eat, and I’ll be right as rain,” she replied.

She needed to deflect the conversation from herself before Dev started asking more questions. “So until our food comes, why don’t you tell me why you paid Betty Tucker’s medical bills?”

Devin considered as he sipped the deplorable sparkling water. God, he hated this stuff. Bubbles were meant to have some flavor. Champagne would have been a better choice in his opinion. He wondered if she’d be surprised to learn he’d developed a taste for it.

Ella seemed determined to not talk about herself. She was wasting no time in getting to the heart of the matter. This was why she’d come to Durango. It said something that the story meant more to her than their divorce. And Ella was clearly in her get-the-story mode. She needn’t be. He was only putting her through the paces because he wanted to make her work for it. Ever since she’d reappeared he’d known this moment was coming. Tearing up the papers meant the time was coming soon. And in some ways he wanted her to finally know the truth.

But not this way. When he’d ripped up the papers today, he’d hoped her invitation was a good sign. After they’d made love again he’d said it straight out—he didn’t want a divorce. And she’d invited him to dinner in her hotel room. What was he supposed to think?

Clearly, the wrong thing. Because she wanted the truth, but for her story, not for herself or for their relationship. He was disappointed in her. And yet proud of her strength and focus.

“I paid Betty’s bills because she needed the treatment and there was no other way she was going to get it.”

The room seemed very small to him just now. The options were to stand, to sit at the dining table or sit on the bed. While his body responded to the last thought, he knew this wasn’t the time to answer the call of his libido. He fought against the confinement by releasing the button on his suit jacket.

“But why Betty?” Ella looked up at him over the rim of her glass. “There must be thousands of people like her. Ill and with no health benefits.”

“But Betty is here, and she’s one of us,” he replied. He went to the table and refilled his glass, drinking the despicable water just to keep his hands busy. She wasn’t asking the right questions, and that annoyed him. This wasn’t about Betty at all. He pretended to sip the liquid as he stared at her. She was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. Why couldn’t she see that he would never have given her up unless he’d had no choice?

“Does it really matter? She needed the help and I gave it.”

“If I’ve learned anything, it’s that people
always
have a motive. Altruism is never random. So why don’t you tell me about the rest? Besides the really big check you wrote?”

She stepped forward now, and he knew her senses had sharpened. She thought she was getting to the meat of the story, when it really went so much deeper than this.

“What rest?”

“She told me you delivered groceries, painted her porch, hired her a cleaning lady… All sorts of things. Why would you do that? You didn’t answer me the last time. I believe you tried to distract me instead.”

Devin looked away. Betty had been kind to him once. More than kind. He wanted Ella to know the truth, but he didn’t want to read about it in the press. He’d never wanted to capitalize on his misfortune. So before they went any further, he needed to know her intentions.

“What kind of story do you want to write, Ella?” He put down the glass. “What do you want with me? Do you want to expose the HMO? Do you want a human interest piece on me? Rags-to-riches story, poor boy who grows up to be a great philanthropist? Because that’s not me. That’s not who I am.”

He went to her and gripped her upper arms. “Think carefully before you answer.”

She bit down on her lip and his eyes followed the motion, seeing her even, white teeth worry at the soft, pink flesh.

“Can’t I do both?”

“You know you can’t.”

A knock at the door interrupted and he dropped his hands, stepping back. The rest of the evening depended on her answer. Her motives mattered.

“That will be room service.” She tucked a tiny piece of hair behind her ear and straightened her shoulders. He watched her walk to the door, all heels and shapely calves and appetizing curves. The doubt and confusion he’d seen in her eyes gave him hope. This wasn’t easy for her. Perhaps the soft, caring girl he’d fallen in love with was still there, inside. Had his part in their separation helped make her jaded? He wondered if he’d been able to fight for her all those years ago if it would have made any difference.

The meal was placed before them: sizzling shrimp, pepper steak, another bottle of sparkling water. Devin watched Ella as it was laid out on the table. She didn’t drink when working, he realized. Tonight, when a bottle from the restaurant’s extensive list would have been a perfect pairing, she was sticking to fancy water. He couldn’t help but respect it the smallest bit. It spoke to a professionalism he admired. In his business, he’d seen too many deals signed over a few drinks fall apart later.

But Ella wasn’t strictly business. She was still his wife. Even though the new Ella was different from the girl he’d married, his respect for her grew another notch. Whatever she did, she did with commitment. He couldn’t help but admire that quality, even if her professional attention was working against him.

Ella resumed her seat at the table and he followed as the wait staff faded away and out the door. Devin lifted his glass. “To a room at the Strater. We only had to wait a decade or so.”

Her cheeks colored, the pink flush very becoming next to her golden hair and the black fabric of her dress. “Devin,” she warned.

But he smiled in return, wanting to tease out all the good parts of Ella he’d glimpsed. They’d had hopes and dreams. And despite it being a backwards route, they were here nonetheless and in one of the finest rooms at that. “A simple observation, Ella, that’s all. Did you think I’d forgotten?”

And he held his glass out, waiting for her to accept the toast.

Ella lifted her glass and touched the rim to his. She could feel the blush in her cheeks, put there not only by Devin’s words but by his soft smile. Something had shifted in the last few minutes, though she didn’t know just what. But the edge, the protective layer she’d sensed around him was suddenly gone. She took a sip of water, grateful he hadn’t mentioned the lack of alcohol. Water, milk and apple juice seemed to be the big three for her now.