Wrapped Up in a Beau (5 page)

“I'm sorry,” he murmured as he came to the door. “I didn't mean to interrogate you like that. I don't need to know about where you're from or who you're related to. I get inquisitive when I like someone. It's not every day I meet a woman who has seen more of the world than I have.” When she raised her eyes to his, he gently added, “I don't want to go.”

She leaned against the jamb, hand gripping the knob, studying him. “I know you were just making conversation.” Brown eyes shifted to a point past his shoulder. “You're lucky, Mason, that you have what you have. Your whole family is here. No matter where you go, you have some place to come back to. It's something to be cherished.”

His smile was wan. “So is freedom.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “It's easy for someone like you to take what you have for granted. I can tell you've never been without.”

This time he was the one who tensed. “My family may be financially wealthy, but I still had to earn what I have.”

She rolled her eyes. “You can't make me feel sorry for you.”

“Greta, I'm not trying to.”

By the wry look on her face, she wasn't buying it, and when she began to turn the doorknob, he put his hand over hers. A current rocketed up his arm, shocking his system. Greta gasped, and it pleased him to know he wasn't the only one who felt it.

“Do you really want me to leave?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because—”

“Because I've pissed you off?”

“No. I—”

“Because I was blunt?”

“No.”

“Because you think I'm a jerk for wanting to get to know you?”

“No!” she cried. “Because—” She yanked her hand out from under his and swiveled on her heel. “Because I'm done with this conversation. Simple as that. You're arrogant, cynical and pushy.”

He followed her to the kitchen. “You don't know anything about me, yet you're as judgmental as the next woman who thinks because she's seen a few things, she knows it all.”

Greta swung around. “I'm nothing like that.”

“Well now you know what it feels to be called something you're not. You know what?” Mason raised his palms, shaking his head. “I don't know why we're even arguing! You were the one who got sensitive when I asked an innocent question about family. You don't want me to try to get close to you, even though I know you feel as lonely as I do.”

She threw up her hands. “More arrogance! You're presuming what I think and feel.”

Damn, this woman was infuriating. “Well, I won't apologize for it.” Mason wasn't sure how they went from a polite conversation in the living room to raising their voices in the kitchen. God, this woman drove him crazy! She was sexy, bewitching, complex and…and…hell with it. “Come here.” He clamped a hand on the back of her neck and kissed her, catching them both by surprise. Her lips were warm, soft, tasted like hazelnut. He groaned, pressing harder, wanting more, and though she resisted at first, she melted into it as his firm kiss turned tender. Moving his lips over hers, testing their velvety texture, he felt a thrill course through his body. Triumphant. Exclaiming a victory. He'd known she'd taste like this. Though his blood roared, and his hands itched to wander, he only let his tongue trace inside her warm mouth before he made himself break away.

Finding himself a little short of breath, he took a step back. Heart pounding, mouth tingling, he sought to tamper down these base reactions. His voice came out rough as he told her, “I won't apologize for that, either.”

She said nothing as he walked out the door.

Chapter Five

After Mason left, Greta let out a shaky breath, and touched trembling fingers to her mouth. What was
that
?

Her head swam as if she'd spun around in a circle a dozen times. She sat down in a stool, waiting for her heartbeat to steady.

A simple kiss. Such a reaction over something so insignificant.

As their conversation replayed itself in her mind, guilt sank in. She'd started the argument, true, by becoming defensive when he asked about family. In hindsight, she should've been prepared to answer questions about her background. She'd answered the same ones a thousand times! What did it matter that Mason Renclair asked them? It was as if she was a little embarrassed she didn't come from a normal family like he did. As if it would've turned him off.

But Mason had been right. She was lonely. Why else would she impose herself on another family's Christmas? Though she had many friends all over the world who would've happily welcomed her during the holidays, she didn't want to be taken in out of sympathy again.

Poor Greta. Single. No family. No place to call home.

Though her friends would never say so out loud, she knew they probably thought along those lines to some degree.

All except Sophie. In her letters, she hailed Greta's carefree lifestyle, by turns describing her “ordinary” life in Swan's Crossing with her colorful family. The cantankerous grandfather, the controlling mother, the indifferent father and the bachelor brother. They were far from the ideal family unit, but despite their differences, they were close. Especially Mason and Sophie.

They believed in keeping their family legacies alive. Greta envied siblings with such a relationship.

The next day, while she drove to Galore, Greta was determined to put Mason and his heart-stopping kiss out of her mind. She had plans to go shopping with Sophie and Anne, go out for dinner, then curl up by the fire with her journal and radio.

As she pushed in the door to the shop, she wiped her boots on the mat. No customers were inside. “Leo?” Stripping off her scarf, she walked toward the counter as the Italian came out, grinning.

“There's my Christmas angel! I have a feeling it's going to be extra busy today.”

“Perfect. The busier I am the better.”

His meaty hands rested on his hips. “Funny. That's what Renclair said.”

Greta stopped so sharply, her shoes made a loud squeak on the floor. “Who?”

Leo didn't have to repeat the name as Mason stepped out from the back, all fresh and handsome as ever in a casual button-up. “Hi, Greta.”

You sly devil.

“Sophie told me you'd asked for more help. Since she couldn't be here, and I had some time on my hands, I volunteered in her place.”

Greta pasted on a polite smile. “How thoughtful of her to enlist you.”

Leo beamed. “Now I can give my customers even better service. I've already showed him a few things. The man catches on quick! Hardly surprising since he runs a corporation, no?” He leaned in, cupping a hand to the side of his mouth. “Plus he's doing it for free. I'm a blessed man this Christmas.” A customer walked in. “Mrs. Vickers!” He turned to greet the elderly woman.

Greta crooked her finger at Mason, and walked past him into a tiny office. He followed her with a knowing smile. When she turned to give him a piece of her mind, she found herself a little too flustered to speak. Even with his sleeves rolled up, black hair slightly disheveled and chocolate on his chin, he was more attractive than ever. Her heart was still thumping at the sight, the nearness. How dare he spoil her innocent day with his sexiness?

She lightly pushed at him with one hand. “If you're feeling charitable, you should spread your holiday spirit elsewhere. Your mother is the head of several committees. There must be a dozen places where you can volunteer.”

“This is one of them. Is it so bad I showed up?” He took a step closer to her, and though she wanted to move back, she didn't. “I can't stop thinking about you,” he murmured. “And trust me, I've tried.”

Ditto. She lost the ability to breathe for a second, and swallowed. “You're no different from any other man I've known, Mason. You just like the chase.”

His brow furrowed and he appeared offended. “No, I like you. If you ended the chase right now, and agreed to go out with me, I'd like you even more.”

“I said I would think about it, and I did. The answer is no.”

“Why? Give me a reason I can understand.”

“I already did. You're Sophie's brother, and I don't date the locals.”
And a few other, private, reasons why.
She sensed once their match was lit, a whole blaze would start. Though she'd taken part in a brief affair or two in the past, it wouldn't be very wise right now. Her attitude had changed; she wanted to go back to England, meet someone special, perhaps start a family. Giving in to Renclair would be a giant step back to her old ways. She couldn't tell him that, however. “I didn't come to Swan's Crossing to be seduced by Sophie's brother. She's like a sister to me, and no matter how much I—” She caught herself. She was about to say “no matter how much I want you” and that would've been a mistake. “I mean, no matter how flattered I am, it'd be crossing a line. And even a woman like me has boundaries.”

“What about that kiss last night?” he asked, closing the space even more, cocking his head.

Greta shrugged, feigning nonchalance. Her lips tickled in remembrance, betraying her. “It was nothing. Just a kiss. In fact, I'd already forgotten it happened.” Somewhere in the back of her mind she heard laughter. She'd done everything except forget it. She'd replayed it, fantasized about it, ached for it, but forgotten it? Ha.

“I see.” He moved back with a slightly wounded expression, and for a wild second she had the instinct to recant her lie. To heal his pride and confess her desire. But as a smug smile came across his mouth, she rejected the impulse.

“I guess next time,” he drawled, “I'll have to kiss you a little longer.”

“Mason! Could you come out here?” Leo called. “Mrs. Vickers needs help taking some bags out to the car.”

Hands on hips, he asked, “So can I stay?”

Heaven help her, he was winning. “Fine.”

He grinned. “Leo! I'm on my way.”

Greta dumped her purse, coat and scarf in a chair and grabbed an apron hanging on a hook. As she jerked the tie around her waist, she cursed at her weakness. To think she'd felt guilty for hurting his pride. As if it was possible! “Kiss you a little longer?” she repeated in a whisper. What made him think he'd get the chance to do it twice?

Tying her hair up in a quick bun, she marched to the front counter where Leo was setting out more samples of fudge.

“I hope I didn't hurt your feelings by letting Renclair come aboard,” he said.

“Don't be silly,” she dismissed, forcing her irritation aside. “I know I can't keep you all to myself.” She winked at him and grabbed a rag to wipe down the tables.

He laughed with gusto, shaking his head. “Oh, if only I was twenty years younger. You'd be in trouble, young lady.”

She laughed as she wiped the crumbs from a table, and straightened the chairs. Mason stood outside by Mrs. Vickers's car, gently setting down her bag in the passenger seat. The old woman clapped her hands as if he'd performed a magic trick, and Greta marveled at how he gallantly escorted the woman to the driver's side, making her grin from ear to ear.

This was the second time she'd had to witness his unfailing charm with another woman. No one else repelled it except her. And even she was beginning to wonder how much longer she could keep up
le resistance
.

Leo turned up the volume on the stereo. “I love this song. Reminds me of the times I would take Raquel dancing. When we were on the floor, everyone watched. I used to tell her it was because I was such a magnificent partner, but I knew it was all her.”

Greta's heart warmed at the devotion in Leo's tone. He was clearly still in love with his wife even though she'd passed away almost a decade ago. Since he hadn't remarried, she sensed no woman would ever live up to Raquel Rossi.

“Is that her?” she asked, gesturing to a black-and-white framed photo hanging on the wall behind him.

He nodded with pride and she joined him to get a better view of the picture. Raquel had kind, almond-shaped eyes and high cheekbones. Her wavy hair hung over her shoulder, and her warm smile glowed.

“Hard to believe she gave a chump like me a chance, isn't it?” Leo asked, crossing his arms.

“Chump? Leo, don't be ridiculous.”

“Now, now, you don't have to pump old Leo's ego. I know I'm not much to look at. I'm short, I'm chubby. I have a lot of hair where it shouldn't be. But!” He raised a finger. “I
can
dance. That's how I got her, you know. All those idiots were trying to impress her with their money and flash. But me? I took her to tango. We'd dance for hours. Time would,” he swept his hand through the air, “fly by. I never wanted to take her home. I knew I wanted to marry her that first night. Believe it.”

“You knew that quickly?”

“Baby girl, when it's right, it's
right away
.” His eyes misted and he cleared his throat then stared at the photo once again.

Greta's heart went out to Leo. It was truly heartbreaking Mrs. Rossi had been taken from him. Greta didn't know what it was like to be loved like this. Once, when she'd first started her nanny job, she thought she was in love with a boy from Scotland. He was so passionate, so energetic, a total charmer. Oh the rush of a first love. He'd wanted to marry her and start a family, but Greta hadn't been ready. She'd just begun her nanny position and craved to see the world. Their relationship ended, leaving her heartbroken for months. Two years later, she'd gone to Scotland and passed through his town, found him married with a child on the way. From how he'd gazed at his wife, Greta knew she and her first love were never meant to be, and everything had turned out for the best. Still, she hadn't loved anyone since. She never allowed herself to get attached. It hurt too much when she had to leave. Best to keep things casual and fun. Even so, her heart longed for someone to love her as Leo loved his Raquel. “Do you think your wife would mind if I asked you to dance with me?”

Leo brightened. “Of course not. I might be a little rusty though. Not as, uh, limber as I used to be.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her to the middle of the store. “Quick. Before the rush starts.”

“Right now?” Greta smiled, placing her hand on his right shoulder while he put his at her waist. They began to dance, and with every misstep, every stumble, she and Leo laughed.

“You dance a lot like my daughter,” he announced. “You won't let me lead!”

Leo's daughter was yet another female Greta envied. If Greta had a father like him, she would never let a Christmas go by without visiting him, no matter how far away she lived.

Leo glanced out the window. “If Mason spends as much time with every customer as he does Mrs. Vickers, I'll never close today.”

Greta turned her attention to Mason, watching the woman prattle on and on while he appeared to hang onto her every word.

“I'm not a blind man, you know,” Leo declared, and Greta blinked with confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“You and the rich stud. There's something going on, isn't there? I saw your face when he came out. Your eyes went…” He demonstrated a comical, wide-eyed expression.

Greta gave a nervous laugh. “I was surprised to see him. He doesn't come off as a man who will get his hands dirty with hard work. Not the kind you and I know about. He's pen and paper, checks and suits.”

“No, no. I've met those types. They would never volunteer their free time to help out some old fart in a café.” He snorted. “No matter how much they want a woman.” When she opened her mouth to protest, Leo cut her off. “I know he's mainly here because of you and I don't blame him one bit. It only took me a couple of seconds to sense something's going on between the two of you. When he heard your voice, the man lit up like a Christmas tree. Doesn't even try to act macho and hide it!”

“Regardless, I…I can't get involved with my friend's brother. Even if I wanted to, what would be the point? I'm only here for a week.”

“Take him while you can, doll! Okay, I'll stop being a nosy old goat, but I think you should throw the poor guy a bone.”

“Did he ask you to vouch for him, Leo?”

“Nope. I swear, doll,” he added at her skeptical look. “He reminds me of myself when I was his age.” He lifted his arm and made her turn. “Except he's got a handsome face and money.”

Greta laughed.

Mason came through the door, rubbing his hands together for warmth. “What's so funny?”

Leo spun Greta around one more time and grinned. “My terrible dancing.”

Greta stumbled into a chair and took her breath. “He's lying. Leo is a superb partner. Thank you, handsome. That was fun.”

“Anytime.”

Leo disappeared in the back and Mason helped her up. Her hand practically sizzled from the contact, and she rubbed it on her apron.

He stared at her for longer than she liked. “I wish you looked that happy when I was around.”

“Jealous, Mr. Renclair?” she teased.

“Only a little,” he admitted in a low tone.

Leo handed him a broom and a dustpan and without hesitation, Mason began sweeping the floor with focus and diligence. One would never know he came from a home of privilege.

The lunch rush started shortly after that, and all three of them were too busy to make much conversation above the cheerful ruckus.

Even though they were little harried from the mountain of orders that came in all at once, they worked very well as a team. Greta took charge at the register, making small talk with the customers. Leo whipped up the caffè lattes and smoothly sailed them down the counter while Mason caught them, placing the to-go cups in carriers.