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“This is the shop,” he said, motioning to a small box he’d made on the napkin. “The route to the house looks complicated, but once you’re on the road it’s pretty easy. Most of the time there’s only one way to turn.”
He explained the intricacies, then pulled his key chain out of his pants pocket and took one key off the ring.
“This is it,” he said, handing it to her. “I’m trusting you not to run off with the family silver.”
She closed her hand around the small bit of metal. It was still warm from his body. “I appreciate this, Dylan,” she said. “Both your willingness to come with me and the trust. I won’t let you down.”
He shrugged. “If I thought you were going to, I wouldn’t give you the chance. Besides, I saw that little car you drive. I could hunt you down in a heartbeat.”
“I’m sure you could.”
She studied his broad shoulders, which nearly stretched out the seams of his dress shirt. He was powerfully built. What would it be like to be so strong that you never had to worry about being physically afraid? It was, she decided, something men took for granted.
“You ready to go?” he said, preparing to slide out of the booth.
She frowned. “We haven’t paid the check.”
“They automatically put it on my tab. I pay it monthly.”
“What happened to splitting all expenses equally?”
He paused. “Young lady, you have a point. You also owe me ten bucks.”
She laughed. “That’s better.” She extracted the bill from her wallet and handed it to him.
Outside, the sky was clear. When she drove through L.A., it had been hazy, with a combination of low clouds and smog. Beyond the restaurant, there were only open areas. The city of Riverside was a sprawling, mostly rural town, while the county itself stretched all the way to Arizona. She felt as if she were a thousand miles from home, instead of only seventy miles away.
“We’ll go back to the office so you can collect your car,” he said as he opened the passenger door of his Mercedes. “Then you can head up to the house and relax for the afternoon. If you’re a typical female, we’re going to have a talk about packing.”
“I resent the implication,” she said, trying not to think about the huge suitcase filling her trunk.
“I’m going to give you one duffel bag and that’s all you get.”
“You’re not turning into a tyrant on me, are you?” she asked, not sure where he was going with this. Why on earth would it matter how many suitcases she brought and why would he want her to use one of his?
“I’m being practical.” He touched the tip of her nose and grinned. “We’re not taking a car on our adventure. We’ll be riding on one of my bikes.”
Her brain instantly provided a picture of a bicycle and she opened her mouth to protest. What on earth was he thinking? Then she remembered...this was Dylan. All bad boy and black leather on a motorcycle.
Her eyes got wide, and the image was so powerful she couldn’t speak. Then all she could do was laugh in sheer delight.
* * *
Dylan watched Molly drive away, then he turned back toward his building. As the sound of her car faded, he told himself to go inside, that a thousand things needed doing. Yet he stood there, staring at the brown hills and dry desert land.
He couldn’t believe he’d given a strange woman the key to his house and blithely let her go there on her own. Even Molly had been surprised by his blind trust. What had he been thinking?
The truth was, he hadn’t been thinking at all. His gut had said it was okay to trust Molly, and so he had. Weird, considering he never trusted anyone. What was it about her? Their past? Or maybe it was the vulnerability in her eyes. Something that called to him, begging for protection or comfort.
Slow down, guy, he told himself. He knew better than to create fantasies about women. They were only out for what they could get from a man, be it a good time in bed or a lifetime of financial support. Life had taught him that lesson well.
Which made his reasons for trusting Molly even more suspect. Except that he didn’t believe she wanted anything from him. He couldn’t say how or why this was true, but he’d acted as if it was. Maybe old age was making him senile. Reality was everybody wanted something, even Molly.
His admittedly cynical philosophy firmly back in place, he walked inside the building. Evie sat at her desk, her dark eyes wide with curiosity.
“Well?” she asked, making no pretense at being subtle. “Who is she and what did she want?”
Dylan leaned against her desk. “An old friend. I knew her years ago. I dated her older sister.”
“Oh, that explains it.” Evie wrinkled her nose. “I’m sure she’s a nice person and all, but she’s not your type. I mean the hair is curly and she’s probably pretty when it’s down, but she’s real ordinary looking.”
Dylan straightened. “She’s not ordinary,” he said, irritation adding strength to his voice. “Janet was always the pretty one in the family, but Molly has a lot of nice features.” He drew his eyebrows together and waited for Evie to contradict him. He didn’t want to even think about why he felt the need to defend Molly. Maybe because she was one of those people who were good on the inside. So what if she wasn’t traditionally beautiful—she had other qualities he admired.
“My mistake,” Evie said, raising her hands in a gesture of surrender. “I was just a little surprised—that’s all. You usually go for the model type. I think it’s great you’re looking for substance rather than flash.”
“I’m not looking for anything,” he growled. “We’re friends. Nothing more.”
“I knew that,” Evie said. She shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry if I said something I shouldn’t have.”
Dylan shook his head. “No, it’s my fault. I’m—” What? What was wrong with him? Why did everything suddenly seem off? “I’ll be in my office,” he told her, and headed for the back of the building.
He was getting soft. That must be it. Good thing he was going away. He would use the time to clear his head.
As he settled down to work, he noticed a faint sensation low in his gut. After a few minutes, he was able to identify it as anticipation. He, who normally hated anything that pulled him away from work, was actually looking forward to taking time off.
Chapter Three (#ulink_d1512149-c4c6-5a5a-9bbf-10acec1c66a7)
There had been a mailbox with the house number at the bottom of the hill. As Molly shifted her car into first so it could climb the steep grade, she wondered if she’d made a mistake. Did Dylan really live up here?
When she rounded the last bend and saw the house sprawling in front of her, she became more convinced that she must have made a wrong turn somewhere. The structure was huge. All wood and glass. Its back end blended into the hill rising behind the house. The front overlooked the city and desert beyond. From where she’d stopped, she could see a four-car garage and what appeared to be part of a garden.
Molly sucked in a deep breath. This had to be the place. There had been only three other driveways on the street, and none of the numbers had even been close. She knew property was cheaper out here, but sheesh, she hadn’t expected a mansion. Looking at the impressive structure, she was glad she hadn’t known about it before. Otherwise, she never would have found the courage to approach him.
She pulled her car to the side, in front of one of the garage’s double doors, then turned off the engine. She decided to leave her suitcase in the trunk until she was absolutely sure this was the place. She moved up the walk and saw that the wide front door was decorated with a large, luxurious wreath. She paused. Dylan didn’t strike her as the wreath type. She extracted the key he’d given her. Here goes nothing, she thought.
The key turned easily. He’d told her there wasn’t an alarm to worry about, so she simply stepped inside.
The great room ceiling stretched up at least twenty feet. Huge windows brought in the light from outside, illuminating dark wood beams, white stucco walls and, near the hearth, the fanciest Christmas tree she’d ever seen. To get to it, she had to cross over a cobblestone bridge and indoor stream. A stream?
Molly blinked several times, but the flowing water didn’t go away. It continued to slide down a rock formation on her right, then under the bridge to a shallow pool on her left. Several fish swam through the clear pond.
What on earth had she gotten herself into?
As she approached the tree, what looked like millions of tiny white lights blinked to life. Motion detectors? On a Christmas tree?
Although the tree was beautiful, Molly thought, it struck her as a little formal. No colored lights, no homemade decorations. In fact, every decoration on the tree was white or gold, or some combination of the two. Porcelain angels frozen mid-song.
The furniture was oversized. Dark blue leather sofas, glass-topped tables and more windows. The view was spectacular. She turned in a slow circle, taking in the attractive floor lamps, the displayed artwork, the dining room beyond. She figured her entire condo would fit comfortably into the space occupied by these two rooms alone. And there was still plenty of house for her to see.
Nearly eleven years ago, when Janet had first thought about breaking up with Dylan, Molly remembered listening at the door as her sister had talked to their mother, trying to decide what to do. Janet had been concerned about their differences in lifestyle and expectations. Dylan had grown up on the poor side of town, in a single-wide trailer. All he’d seemed to care about was his bike and Janet. She’d wanted a man with ambition. At the time Molly had thought her sister was incredibly stupid. Ambition was all well and good, but they were talking about Dylan Black. He was worth ten lawyers or doctors.
As Molly continued to study the impressive room, she realized she’d been right. A smile pulled at her mouth. He’d come a long way from that ratty old trailer. Maybe, while they were away together, she could ask him to tell her the story of what had happened to bring him here.
She returned to her car and collected her suitcase, then went back inside. Dylan had described the basic layout of the house, telling her to make herself at home. By nature, she wasn’t much of a snoop, and even if she’d wanted to look around, this place was way too intimidating for her taste. So she didn’t poke her head in all the open doors along the hallway. Instead, she headed for the last door on the left, and found it led to a guest room, just as he’d promised.
The four-poster queen-sized bed was attractive, as was the plain pine furniture. The comforter was a floral print, with matching drapes at the windows. A few tasteful paintings decorated the cream-colored walls. Through a door on her left was a huge bathroom, complete with spa tub. Everything was perfectly clean. Dylan obviously had the use of a cleaning service. Or maybe someone came in a few days a week to tidy up.
She set her suitcase on the bed and opened it. Dylan had told her she would have to pack light for their adventure. After all, they were heading out on one of his motorcycles. A flicker of excitement tickled her tummy. She couldn’t believe she was actually going to do this. She, little Molly Anderson, was going away with Dylan Black. It was, she thought, a Christmas miracle of sorts. And lately miracles had been in short supply in her life.
She sorted through clothing, deciding that casual would be best. She settled on jeans, shirts and a few toiletries. An oversized cotton T-shirt would work as a nightgown.
Fifteen minutes later she’d stacked the clothes she was taking neatly on the dresser and had secured the rest of her things in her suitcase. She stared at the ring Dylan had given back to her. She felt strange taking it with her, but she wasn’t about to leave it behind, either. She shrugged, then grabbed a tissue from a ceramic container in the bathroom, wrapped the ring and tucked it in an inner pocket of her toiletry bag.
Molly glanced at her watch. She had a few hours before Dylan would be home. He’d told her about a library at the other end of the house. A good book would be a great distraction, but first she had to make a few phone calls. She pulled out her cell phone, settled on the bed, and checked to see if she had any messages.
None.
It was really too soon to expect an answer, she told herself silently, willing away the disappointment. But it was so hard not to hope. So hard not to want a miracle—just one more. Was that asking too much?
She dialed another number. The phone was picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Hi, it’s me.”
“Molly!” Janet’s voice was warm and welcoming. “How are you? Or should I ask, where are you? You’ve left already, haven’t you?”
“Uh-huh. I’m—” Molly stared at the beautiful guest room and grinned. “You’ll never guess where I am.”
Her sister chuckled. “I hate playing guessing games. I’m lousy at them. You know that. Okay. Christmas shopping in New York City.”
“Nope. One more try, then I’ll tell you. But I’ll give you a hint. It’s warm and there’s a terrific view.”
“Oh, that’s easy. Hawaii. How great!” She hummed a few bars about a Hawaiian Christmas.
Molly laughed. “Sorry, Janet, you’re not even close. I’m in Dylan Black’s guest room.”
There was dead silence on the phone. Molly could picture her sister’s mouth dropping open. She would form words without sound for at least thirty seconds.
A sputtering came over the phone, followed by a squawk. “You’re where?”
“I know, I know. It’s too strange. But remember the ring I was talking about?”
“Of course. It was actually my ring.”
“You dumped him,” Molly reminded her. “When I found it, I remembered what he’d said about promising me an adventure. I couldn’t figure out where else to go, so here I am.”
“Honey, are you all right?” Janet’s voice was low with concern. “I know you had a crush on him and all, but this is very strange. It’s been years. You don’t know the man anymore. Are you sure this is safe?”
Molly thought about that for a second. “You’re not saying anything I haven’t already told myself. I know this sounds strange, and in a way it is. But I didn’t know what to do. If nothing else, Dylan is a fabulous distraction. And I need that right now.”
“He’s not a serial killer, is he? Not that he would tell you if he was.”
Molly glanced around the room. “I don’t think killing pays this well,” she told her sister. “His business is very successful. The house is great. Big and on the top of a hill.” A thought occurred to her. “Janet, are you mad because I’m here? Does it bother you?”
“If you’re asking whether I’m over Dylan, please don’t concern yourself. I’ve been over him for years. You know I love Thomas. It’s been fourteen years, and the thrill is still there for us. Dylan was my first serious boyfriend and I’ll always have fond memories of him, but it wouldn’t have worked. We both knew that.” Janet drew in a breath. “I’m sure he’s doing well, but he hasn’t changed, Molly. He’s still a dangerous kind of man. I don’t think he’s ever married. Maybe he’s not capable of that kind of commitment.”
Molly stared at the phone. “We’re taking an adventure, not getting involved.”
“Things happen. I just want you to take care of yourself. You’re in a vulnerable place right now. I don’t want him to hurt you.”
“You don’t have to worry. He would have to be slightly interested in me to hurt me and we both know that’s not going to happen.”
“Don’t,” Janet pleaded. “You’re adorable. Any man would be lucky to have you.”
Molly tugged at her jeans, pulling the fabric away from her generous thighs. “Uh-huh. I do have that problem with all those men lining up outside the condo. It was so difficult to get away this morning, but I try to be gentle when I reject them.”
“You’re a brat.”
“Just a minute ago you said I was adorable.”
Janet laughed. “Molly, you make me crazy. Were there any messages?”
Molly’s humor faded instantly. “No.”
“It’s really too soon to have heard.”
“I know.”
“Everything is fine.”
“I know that, too.” She knew it, but she didn’t believe it.
“So where are you two off to?”
“I have no idea,” Molly said. “Dylan is picking our destination.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“I’m not sure about anything, Janet. But if you’re asking me if I’m sure I want to go with Dylan, the answer is yes. There’s nothing I want more. I need to escape and he’s the perfect way to do that. So please try not to worry.”
“I won’t worry if you promise to stay in touch.”
“I will. I swear.”
Her sister sighed. “I love you, kid. Take care of yourself.”
“I love you, too. Give Thomas and the girls a kiss for me. Bye.”
She hung up the receiver. Without Janet’s support, she wouldn’t have gotten through the past week and a half. It was nice to have someone to worry about her. However, for the next few days she wasn’t going to think about that, or about anything but having a wonderful time on her adventure.
