Slow Burn (Buchanan-Renard 5) - Page 18

Kate’s brow wrinkled into a frown and she shook her head. “You know about the loan my mother took out using my company, among other things, as collateral.”

“Yes. And . . . ?” Dylan urged.

“It appears the accountant who managed my mother’s finances and his wife are planning to take over my company just as soon as the due date for the payment arrives.”

“What does this have to do with ribbon?” he asked.

Kate filled him in on her conversation with Haley, and after she was through, Dylan sat back in the booth and fell silent for a few minutes. He was deep in thought and Kate could tell he was analyzing all the facts of her situation.

“I think we have a lot more to look into,” he said finally. He stood, took her hands, and pulled her to her feet. Before leaving the restaurant he got directions to the nearest filling station.

While he filled the gas tank, Kate used her cell phone to try to get hold of Jordan, but the answering machine picked up yet again. Kate left her a message to please call.

Once he was back in the car, Dylan looked at the map for about thirty seconds and said, “Okay, let’s go.”

“Did you have a destination in mind?”

“How about I surprise you?”

“As long as the rooms are clean, I’ll be happy.”

“Not rooms,” he said. “One room. You’re staying with me.”

She didn’t argue. “Will I have my own bed?”

“If that’s what you want.”

But what if I don’t know what I want? she wondered. What then? She thought about the silly that-was-then-this-is-now speech she’d given him and wished she’d kept her mouth shut.

“If you want to make any phone calls, do it now because once we leave Bucyrus I don’t want you calling anyone on your cell phone.”

“Why can’t I use my cell phone?”

“Better to be cautious.”

It wasn’t much of an explanation. “I should call Kiera and Isabel. I’ve put it off long enough. Hopefully their answering machines are on. Otherwise, I’ll have to go into detail, and I’d rather not do that now.”

Kate lucked out. She got voice mail right away. She left the same message for each of them. “The relatives are horrible,” she began. “And I’ve got a video to show you of the great-uncle we’ve been blessed not to know. I’ll explain everything tomorrow. I’m in a rush now and will be unavailable. If you need me, leave me a message.”

“How come you didn’t tell them about the inheritance?”

She shrugged. “It wasn’t important.” She noticed his smile and asked, “Why is that amusing?”

“Not amusing . . . just reflective.”

“Reflective of what?”

“You.”

A sudden worry turned her attention. “What about Kiera and Isabel? They’re safe, aren’t they? Their inheritance has already been transferred to them. Still . . .”

“Anderson assured us they aren’t in line to inherit the fortune. But I already talked to Nate about your sisters, and he’s going to make sure they’re covered. Hopefully, neither one of them will notice she has a shadow. You don’t need to worry about them. All right?”

“Yes,” she said. “Thank you.”

“Any other phone calls you want to make, make them now,” he said.

Kate quickly called Haley and once again missed her. She left a long message explaining that she still owned the company, and everything would be straightened out soon. In the meantime, she asked her not to say anything to the Simmons woman.

“Please don’t let her know we’ve talked. I’m working on a surprise for her and her husband. I’ll explain everything soon,” she promised.

She disconnected the line, then tried once again to get hold of Jordan. She left another message before turning her phone off.

“I’ve been trying to reach your sister, and she hasn’t returned my calls. That’s not like her,” she said.

“You haven’t been able to get in touch with her since I showed up at your front door, right?”

“Now that I think about it, yes, that’s right.”

“She’s probably just giving you time to cool down. I’m sure she thinks you’re angry with her for interfering.”

“By sending you to me?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll admit for a little while I was irritated. I didn’t like the idea of any man coming to save the day, and I found it a bit galling that Jordan, who is beyond a liberated woman, would send her brother to take care of me. I know—she sent you because you’re a detective who knows how to handle this sort of thing, but I still want to give her a piece of my mind. Making you come all this way . . .”

“Jordan can’t make me do anything I don’t want to do.”

Ha. Of course she could, but Kate wasn’t going to burst his bubble and tell him so. Jordan, like her sister, Sydney, could get all of her brothers to do anything she wanted. When begging didn’t work, she used guilt. She’d perfected various other techniques as well; however, guilt had always worked best.

Kate was thankful Dylan was with her. Oh, she knew that Nate and the other detectives in Charleston were capable men, but she was . . . comfortable with Dylan. There was also the trust issue. Hers was absolute.

Dylan’s phone rang. The second he read the caller ID he started smiling. One of his women was on the line, no doubt. It was a reasonable conclusion. The man was grinning like an idiot.

Kate couldn’t believe how disgruntled she became. What did she care about his love life?

Apparently far more than she wanted to, she admitted.

“Hey, sweetie. What’s going on?” he said into the phone.

Sweetie? He called her sweetie? Kate felt like grabbing the phone from him and tossing it out the window. She wondered how sweetie would like that.

She folded her arms and pretended not to be listening as she looked out the side window. The woman on the phone was doing most of the talking, but every once in a while Dylan would interject a word or two of encouragement or praise.

“That’s good to hear . . . now you’re thinking . . . yes, of course you can call me anytime . . . no, no, you’re doing great. I’ll talk to you real soon. You take care now . . .”

It was enough to make her want to throw up. How many women did he have dangling, waiting desperately for him to call? I’ll talk to you soon? How many times had he given that promise? Did he ever follow through? Did he call back? Probably not. It was just a kiss-off line.

She did notice that Dylan hadn’t used his flirty voice, that wonderful, sexy tone that melted her defenses. Just bet he’d melted a lot of other women, too . . .

Good God, she was jealous.

“Kate?”

“Yes?” She snapped the word out with bullet speed.

“Isabel says hello.”

“What?” If she’d been standing, she would have fallen over. “Isabel . . . what?”

“She said hello. What’s the matter with you? Why are you so jumpy?”

If he only knew. “Nothing’s wrong with me.”

“Your face is red.”

“What?”

“I said your face is red.”

“Why did Isabel call you?”

“She had my phone number,” he said. “And she wanted me to know she changed the dead bolt on her door.” He smiled as he added, “She said the lock didn’t work, so she went to a hardware store, got what she needed, and impressed her roommate by doing it all herself.”

“Oh. I thought . . .”

“What? What did you think?”

She wasn’t going to explain. “Why didn’t she call me? I just left her a message about meeting the relatives. Did she mention it?”

“Yes, she did. She wanted me to tell you she’s sorry they weren’t more hospitable.”

Kate laughed. “Hospitable? That’s something Isabel would say, all right. She probably thinks they would have been nicer if I’d offered them a beverage.”

&nb

sp; “Don’t sell her short, Kate. There’s a brain hiding inside that blond hair. I’ll tell you what. She’s going to break a lot of hearts.”

“I worry about her,” she admitted. “She’s too trusting.”

“You want her to be more cynical?”

“Like me?”

“You’re not cynical. You’re scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Me.”

“Ha.” Oh, that was an intelligent, well-thought-out response. “Why didn’t you tell me Isabel was on the phone?”

He grinned. “I didn’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“I was having too much fun watching you get all riled up.”

Had her body language been that easy to read?

Kate made the mistake of trying to bluff her way through the awkward conversation. “Why would I get riled up?”

“You thought I was talking to a girlfriend.”

Okay, trying to bluff had been a mistake, she realized. Better not to say anything.

“You’re not denying it?”

“Would you believe me if I were?”

“Nope.”

“Then I won’t.”

Determined to ignore him, she stared out the window and tried to be fascinated by the scenery. The tarred road they were on wound through a collage of colors. They passed an old, deserted fruit stand, and a few minutes later a black-water lake came into view.

“You know what I find real interesting?” he asked. “You keep insisting that our night together in Boston was a mistake.”

“That’s right, it was. And it cannot happen again. It was an unusual circumstance, but now that we’re back to normal—”

“This is normal?”

She had to wait for him to stop laughing before she could continue. “Apparently I need to explain my actions again.”

He groaned. “You’re not going to give me the that-was-then lecture again, are you?”

He was beginning to infuriate her. “Do I need to?”

“You seem to enjoy giving that speech,” he replied. And before she could interrupt, he added, “What I find interesting is that you don’t want me to touch you, but when you thought I was talking to a girl back home, you got all riled up. That’s a contradiction, isn’t it?”

She needed to stop being defensive and embarrassed. “You enjoy flirting,” she said. “And that’s fine with me. But you know as well as I do that a relationship with me would be a disaster. Eventually you’re going to go home, and you would feel terrible if you hurt me when you ended it, and I’d feel terrible if I hurt you by ending it, and it’s just not worth it.”

“You forgot to mention Jordan this time.”

Rattled, she said, “I what? What do you mean ‘this time’?”

“The last time you told me a relationship with you wouldn’t work, Jordan was at the top of your list of reasons.”

“I’ve said all of this before?”

“Pretty much.”

That took the wind out of her sails. “Then I shouldn’t have to go through it again, should I? I value Jordan’s friendship . . . did I mention that?”

“Sure did. You also told me you didn’t want it to be awkward.”

He was sounding slightly patronizing now. “So you were listening and you do understand.”

“Yes,” he said. “And I agree. Getting involved is a bad idea.”

She knew she should be relieved that he agreed with her, and yes, she was relieved, but did he have to agree so quickly?

She wasn’t being logical. The problem was, she didn’t know what to do about it.

Exhaustion and stress. Perfectly sound reasons for being so contradictory.

“I have every right.”

“Excuse me?”

Great. She was in worse condition than she’d realized. Now she was thinking out loud.

“I’m stressed, and I have every right to be stressed, and do you know why?” She continued before he could say a word. “Someone out there is trying to blow me up.”

“Katie . . .”

“I’m tired,” she said. “Since I came home from Boston, I’ve felt like a punching bag. I think it’s time for me to start punching back.”

He nodded approval. “That’s good to hear. As long as you know who to punch.”

“Oh, I’ve got a few people in mind.”

They rode along for several minutes in silence, and she asked, “Why can’t I use my cell phone?”

“I’m probably being overly cautious, but when I heard that Jackman could be involved and probably is, I didn’t want to take any chances. A cell phone is easy to pinpoint, and calls, just like regular phones, can be traced if you’ve got the right equipment.”

“You told me Jackman was a loan shark. Would he have that kind of capability?”

“He’s a whole lot more than a loan shark, and if he doesn’t have the capability, he knows people he can lean on who do.”

The man sounded like a monster. A chill ran down her spine. “Have you told anyone where we’ll be spending the night?”

“No, not a soul. I thought we’d head to Charleston. I’ll find a hotel there, maybe on the outskirts.”

“The closer we get to Silver Springs, the happier I’ll be.”

“We’re going to have to figure out what to do about tomorrow. We can’t go back to Savannah.”

“No, we can’t,” she agreed. “But until I sign those papers . . .”

Chapter Twenty-eight

The hotel was packed, yet Dylan managed to get them a lovely room—all without showing any identification, as far as Kate could see. She waited across the lobby and watched the master at work. The person behind the counter was a young woman, and Dylan was Mr. Charismatic. It took him less than five minutes to get her to blush and hand him the key. Kate thought she might have handed him her phone number, too.

The room was well appointed and spacious and had a breathtaking view of the ocean. There were two queen-size beds which the maids had already turned down for the night.

As soon as the bellman left, she asked Dylan, “What did you have to promise that woman to get this wonderful room?”

“I can’t give away trade secrets,” he said. He unzipped his garment bag and hung his clothes in the walk-in closet.

She grinned. “You just can’t help it, can you?”

She thought he hadn’t heard her. He went into the bathroom, put his shaving kit on the marble counter, and called out, “This place is huge. I can’t help what?”

He had been listening. “It’s second nature to you. I think you were born with this . . . talent. Now that I think about it, all of the Buchanan brothers have it. It must be in the genes,” she added as she considered the possibility.

He stood in the doorway watching her. “I’ve got lots of talents, Pickle.”

“Yes, you do.”

“What was I born with?”

She really wished she hadn’t started this conversation because he wasn’t going to let it go. “A tiger can’t help having stripes, and you can’t help flirting. It’s okay,” she hastened to add. “You make every woman you meet feel special. It’s a gift.”

“A gift, huh?”

She couldn’t tell if he was pleased by her observation or irritated. “Yes, that’s right. Which bed do you want?” she asked, hoping to change the subject.

“The one by the door. You sound like you approve of this gift.”

Approve? She wouldn’t go that far. “I understand,” she said. “And it doesn’t faze me.”

“So if I were to come on to you, or hit on you, or flirt, or whatever it is you think I do . . .”

“It wouldn’t bother me at all. I’m immune now, Dylan.”

Ah, man, was he going to have some fun with her. “Good to know,” he drawled.

Desperate to change the subject, she picked up her makeup bag and her pajamas and robe. “I’d like to take a shower and go to bed.”

“No problem,” he said.

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She glanced at the clock on the bedside table and was shocked by how late it was. They’d stopped for dinner and must have lingered longer than she realized.

She was walking past him when she remarked, “It’s been a long day.” She thought he had said something and turned around. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah, okay.”

She tilted her head. “What . . .”

He moved fast. His hand cupped the back of her neck and his mouth captured hers.

She didn’t even think about pushing him away or stepping back. She might have sighed into his mouth, though. When his tongue swept inside to stroke hers, her body tingled all the way down to her toes.

She was about to put her arms around his neck when he pulled back. Her heart was racing, and she couldn’t catch her breath, but Dylan looked unaffected. He reached behind her and pushed the bathroom door open. She didn’t budge.

“Why did you do that?”

“Kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t ask me to?” His eyes sparkled with devilment.

“No, of course I didn’t.”

He gave her a little push to get her to move. “I could have sworn you did. My mistake.”

She caught a glimpse of his grin as he walked away.

She shut the door, locked it, and dropped her makeup bag on the counter. There were two sinks. She took the one closest to the wall and tried not to think about the kiss as she took out her toothbrush and toiletries.

She glanced at herself in the mirror and cringed. She looked horrible. Her hair was hanging limply around her face, and the shadows under her eyes had gotten darker. And he’d kissed her. Goes to show you, she thought. Dylan either had very low standards, or he would hit on any woman no matter how bad she looked.

A hot shower made her feel almost human again. She hadn’t realized how tense she was or how much the muscles in her neck and shoulders ached until the hot water loosened them.

She worried about Dylan’s shoulder. He hadn’t had therapy in a while. Were his muscles tightening up? Was he in pain? If he weren’t so sensitive and macho about his injury, she would have asked.

She washed her hair and dried it, brushed her teeth, and put on moisturizer. Then she cleaned the bathroom. She knew how much Dylan hated clutter. He liked everything neat and in its place. When she was finished she checked herself in the mirror one last time and opened the door.


Tags: Julie Garwood Buchanan-Renard Romance
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