“Damn it!” she cursed as she inspected her scratches. Duke and Dolores sat on their haunches, wagging their stubby tails and waiting for her to finish. “Come!” she commanded. They lowered their heads in submission, but as soon as she took a step, they jumped up and took off. “Get back here!” She considered letting them go, but then she remembered the Truly Charitable Society meeting at her mother’s house. Chasing stupid dogs through the forest suddenly sounded like a good time.
She followed them up a small hill and paused beneath a pine tree to catch her breath. Her brows lowered as she gazed at the meadow in front of her, subdivided and cleared of trees. A bulldozer and a front-end loader sat idle next to a huge dump truck. Neon orange paint marked the ground in several spots beside big sewer trenches, and Nick Allegrezza stood in the midst of the chaos next to a black Jeep Wrangler, Duke and Dolores at his feet.
Delaney’s heart jumped to her throat. Nick was the one person she’d hoped to avoid during her short visit. He was the source of the single most humiliating experience of her life. She fought to suppress the urge to turn and go back the way she’d come. Nick had seen her and there was no way she was going to run. She had to force herself to walk calmly down the incline toward him.
He was dressed the same as he had been yesterday at Henry’s funeral. White T-shirt, worn Levi’s, gold earring, but he’d shaved today and his hair was pulled back in a ponytail. He looked like he belonged on a billboard wearing nothing but his Calvin’s.
“Hello,” she called out. He didn’t say anything, just stood there, one of his big hands leisurely scratching the top of Duke’s head as his gray eyes watched her. She fought the apprehension weighing the pit of her stomach as she came to stand several feet before him. “I’m walking Henry’s dogs,” she said, and was again treated with silence and his steady, unfathomable gaze. He was taller than she remembered. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder. His chest was broader. His muscles bigger. The last time she’d stood this close, he’d turned her life inside out and changed it forever. She’d thought he was a knight in shining armor, driving a slightly battered Mustang. But she’d been wrong.
He’d been forbidden to her all her life, and she’d been drawn to him like an insect to a bug light. She’d been a good girl longing to be set free, and all he’d had to do was crook his finger at her and utter four words. Four provocative words from his bad-boy lips. “Come here, wild thing,” he’d said, and her soul had responded with a resounding yes. It had been as if he’d looked deep inside her, past the facade, to the real Delaney. She’d been eighteen and horribly naive. She’d never been allowed to spread her wings, to breathe on her own, and Nick had been like pure oxygen that went straight to her head. But she’d paid for it.
“They’re not as well behaved as Clark and Clara were,” she continued, refusing to feel intimidated by his silence.
When he finally did speak, it wasn’t what she expected. “What did you do to your hair?” he asked.
She touched her fingers to the soft red curls. “I like it.”
“You look better as a blond.”
Delaney’s hand fell to her side, and she lowered her gaze to the dogs at Nick’s feet. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”
“You should sue.”
She really did like her hair, but even if she didn’t, she couldn’t very well sue herself. “What are you doing up here?” she asked as she leaned forward and snapped the leash on Duke’s collar. “Looting?”
“No.” He rocked back on his heels. “I never plunder on the Lord’s day. You’re safe.”
She looked into his dark face. “But funerals are fair game, right?”
A frown creased his forehead. “What are you talking about?”
“That blond yesterday. You treated Henry’s funeral like a pick-up bar. That was disrespectful and gauche, Nick. Even for you.”
The frown disappeared, chased away by a licentious smile. “Jealous?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Want the details?”
She rolled her eyes. “Spare me.”
“You sure? It’s pretty juicy stuff?”
“I think I’ll live.” She pushed one side of her hair behind her ear, then reached for Dolores.
Before she touched the dog, Nick reached out and grabbed her wrist. “What happened here?” he asked and cupped the back of her hand. His palm was big and warm and callused, and he lightly brushed his thumb across the scratch on her own palm. A surprising little tingle tickled her fingertips, then swept up her arm.
“It’s nothing.” She pulled away. “I scraped it climbing over a blowdown.”
He looked into her face. “You climbed over a blowdown in those shoes?”
For the second time in less than an hour, her favorite shoes were being maligned. “There’s nothing wrong with them.”
“Not if you’re a dominatrix.” His gaze slid down her body, then slowly climbed back up. “Are you?”
“Dream on.” She reached for Dolores again, and this time successfully clipped the leash on the dog’s collar. “Whips and chains aren’t my idea of a good time.”
“That’s a shame.” He folded his arms across his chest and leaned his butt against the tire well of the Jeep. “The closest thing Truly has to an experienced dominatrix is Wendy Weston, 1990 state champion calf roper and barrel racer.”
“Can you afford two women spanking your bum?”
“You could steal me away,” he said through a grin. “You’re better looking than Wendy, and you have the right shoes.”
“Gee thanks. Too bad I’m leaving tomorrow afternoon.”
He looked a little surprised by her answer. “Short trip.”
Delaney shrugged and pulled the dogs toward her. “I never intended to stay long.” She would probably never see him again, and she let her gaze roam the sensual line of his dark face. He was too handsome for his own good, but maybe he wasn’t as bad as she remembered. He would never pass for a nice guy, but at least he hadn’t reminded her of the night she’d sat on the hood of his Mustang. It had been ten years; maybe he’d mellowed. “Good-bye, Nick,” she said and took a step backward.
He touched two fingers to his brow in a mock salute, and she turned and headed back the way she’d come, dragging the dogs along with her.
At the top of the small hill, she glanced over her shoulder one last time. Nick stood just as she’d left him beside his Jeep, arms folded across his chest, watching her. As she stepped into the shifting forest shadows, she remembered the blond he’d picked up at Henry’s funeral. Maybe he’d mellowed, but she’d bet pure testosterone, not blood, ran through his veins.
Duke and Dolores tugged at their leashes and Delaney tightened her grasp. She thought about Henry and about Nick and wondered once again if Henry had included his son in his will. She wondered if they’d ever tried to reconcile, and she wondered what Henry had bequeathed her. For a few brief moments, she let herself imagine a gift of money. She let herself imagine what she could do with a chunk of cash. First, she’d pay off her car, then she’d buy a pair of shoes from some place like Bergdorf Goodman. She’d never owned an eight-hundred-dollar pair of shoes, but she wanted to.
And if Henry had left her a huge chunk a cash?
She’d open her own salon. Without a doubt. A modern salon with lots of mirrors, and marble, and stainless steel. She’d dreamed of her own business for quite a while now, but two things stood in her way. One, she hadn’t found a city where she wanted live for more than a couple of years. And two, she didn’t have the capital or the collateral to get the capital.