“That’s being a bit melodramatic.”
“So is that,” she replied softly, her eyes sliding upward to the purplish knot on his forehead, clearly visible just above the hairline.
He touched it, shrugged dismissively and leaned back in his chair with one arm resting on the tabletop. Summer recognized the position instantly; it was the one he’d adopted the day he’d interviewed her in his office. A position of relaxed and confident authority. “Well now,” he said in the quiet lawyer’s drawl she remembered, “maybe this is somethin’ we oughta discuss.”
A week ago, that calm tone had filled her with hope; now it prodded her temper and her fragile emotions like a tongue on a sore tooth. “There’s nothing to discuss,” she said flatly. I came so close yesterday…so close. What if it happens again? I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to resist you “We simply cannot impose on you this way. We can’t.”
She hadn’t even finished before Riley grimaced and made an irritable shooing gesture, as if waving off a tormenting insect “Didn’t we have this conversation? I thought we’d covered all this the other night, over at the FBI headquarters.”
Her body jerked involuntarily, almost a physical rejection. “I was in a state of shock! I should never have let you convince me. Look-this is insane. Look at the way you live-”
“What? I live a very simple life.”
“Oh, yeah, right-you came to pick us up in a tuxedo, for God’s sake!”
“Oh, well-”
“And all this-your home…”
He was peering around with exaggerated eagerness, as if looking for a hidden surprise. “What about it?”
Summer knew a stone wall when she saw it She sat for a moment, breathing quietly to dampen her frustration and restore her customary patience. She knew she was right; she just had to convince him, somehow. Slowly and patiently, she began, “It’s beautiful. It’s elegant, and classy, and rich-”
“It’s got six extra bedrooms…”
“Hush. I mean it It’s beautiful, Riley. You know it is-you’ve obviously spent considerable time, money and effort making it so. These things-your paintings, the furnishings-even that pool, with all the plants and flowers, are like a little piece of paradise.”
He grinned. “I’m glad you like it.”
She wanted to hit him. “Will you stop it? I’m serious. It’s obvious all this is important to you, as it should be, or else why do you protect it the way you do-all this security?” When he didn’t seem to have a flip answer to that, she took the moment to rein in her emotions, then continued in a calm, reasoning tone, “And it’s just as obvious that a woman with two kids, a dog, a cat and a parrot do not exactly fit into this picture, if you see what I mean. We just do not belong here.” We can’t ever belong here. And if I were foolish enough to fall in love with you…
He was silent for a long time, regarding her steadily and somehow unnervingly, almost as if he’d read her thoughts. His jaw was propped in a cradle made of the index and little fingers of one hand-another pose she remembered. Finally, in a voice utterly devoid of inflection, he said, “What is it about me that makes you think ‘all this’ would be of greater importance to me than the safety and well-being-the life-of my client?”
And it was she who was silenced. Suddenly and unmistakably he was her lawyer again, and she felt foolish and ridiculous to have imagined she might ever be anything else to him but a client Whatever in the world had made her think she could argue with him, anyway? He was the great Riley Grogan, the man who in court had reduced her to the role of brainless bimbo. Right now she felt just as bogged down and trapped as she had on that dreadful day, as he continued to subject her to his hard, unreadable stare. But with one difference. Now, for all his outward appearance of authority, she had the distinct impression that she’d touched a nerve in him. That in some unfathomable way she’d even hurt him.
Not yet ready to concede defeat, she looked away and said softly, “But you have a life. I know you must-or, anyway, you did before we came. Since then-”
He leaned forward suddenly, on the attack, cutting her off, startling her. “What do you know about my life?”
“I told you, I-”
“You checked me out before you hired me.” His smile was sardonic. “And tell me, what did you find out? All about my professional reputation and track record, I’m sure. Social gossip. I’m certain you were able to discover that I am unmarried, and that I make the rounds of various Charleston-area social functions, fulfilling my duties as one of the Low Country’s most reliable escorts. What else? The fact that I serve on the boards of several charitable organizations? That I am known to be law-abiding, upstanding and trustworthy? Those things would be of particular importance to you, I imagine.” He paused and leaned closer to her. “Now, tell me, Mrs. Robey, what do you know about me?”
She flinched away from his nearness, cheeks burning, dry mouthed, and could only mutter, “Obviously-”
He straightened and made a smacking sound with his lips, something else she’d seen him do, she fuzzily recalled, that day in court. “You keep using that word-obviously Now-how can something be obvious if you don’t know a person?”
But she wasn’t in court, Summer reminded herself, grasping at that like a drowning rat hauling itself aboard a floating twig. And she wasn’t a brainless bimbo. And she would not let herself be intimidated again-not even by Riley Grogan. She shook herself mentally and leveled a look at him. “You’re right. I don’t know you. All I know about you is what I’ve seen. What you’ve shown me. I’ve seen the lawyer-” she gave him a small, sardonic smile of her own “-you do that extremely well, thanks for reminding me. I’ve seen your clothes, your car, your home-”
He made an impatient movement that told her she’d landed another blow, however small. He sat back, frowning, though not at her, and after a moment said in a low, gravelly voice, “I had my reasons for acquiring…all that I’ve acquired. At one time I suppose it was important to me. Things change. Priorities change…” And he was silent, gazing at the thinning darkness beyond the windows.
Summer saw the deeper darkness reflected in his eyes and suddenly felt a sadness in him that she didn’t understand. Surely not, she thought. Riley Grogan? But he has everything.
Sorry now that she’d pushed so far and presumed so much, she said haltingly, “I think…people see you the way you want them to see you. Maybe, if I don’t know you it’s because… you really don’t want me to.”
“Oh, that’s not true.” But it was an automatic denial, and after a moment he shifted as if the chair had become uncomfortable to him. “If it is, it’s probably because I don’t-” he cleared his throat loudly “-I don’t quite know how.” And he looked at her, his smile askew. “Maintaining an image can get to be a habit. A hard one to break.” In a sudden change of mood, he clasped his hands together on the tabletop and leaned toward her. “Try me. What would you like to know? Go ahead-ask.”
The intensity of his gaze was like a physical force; bracing herself to meet it seemed to take all her strength. Faintly, she said, “You’d answer me truthfully?”
He nodded. “Or not at all.”
But she found that it was hard to think when he looked at her like that-as if, like Mowgli’s Kaa, his eyes had the power to mesmerize her. In another moment, she feared, he could if he wished take control of her completely…body, soul and mind.
“Your witness,” he prompted softly.
It took a great effort, but she managed to wrench herself away from him both physically and mentally, rise and walk to the windows, where with the safety of distance and her back to him, she cleared her throat and ventured, “Okay…family. Nobody seems to know anything about your family.”