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“What did it mean?”
He took a step back before he replied. “Trouble,” he said quietly. “It was definitely trouble.”
* * *
Trouble? Gina echoed to herself after Rafe had wisely walked away. It wasn’t just trouble. It was a disaster. If he’d asked, she would have followed him straight to the nearest bed without giving it a second thought. She would have slept with a man who wanted to put her in jail.
Okay, maybe he was beginning to cut her a little slack, but he definitely didn’t trust her, not the way a man ought to trust a woman he was making love to. Of course, that kiss had been all about lust, not love. Gina supposed a man—or a woman—could have spectacular sex with somebody without worrying too much about such niceties as trust. Personally, she’d never tried it. She’d had one serious relationship in Italy, but since coming back to the United States, she’d barely had time to date, much less get involved with a man deeply enough to think about letting him into her bed. And her relationship with Carlo had taught her all about the dangers of dating a suspicious man. His lack of trust, his constant accusations that she was deceiving him had destroyed them.
Now, in just a few short days, Rafe had stirred her hormones to such a fever pitch that she was willing to toss aside everything she valued for a quick romp with yet another man who didn’t believe in her.
“I saw what Rose Ellen meant,” Gina’s mother said quietly, slipping up beside Gina and putting an arm around her waist.
“You saw?”
“Oh, yes. So did your father.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t go for his shotgun.”
“I think he might have, if you’d shown even the tiniest hint of displeasure.”
Gina regarded her mother with a wry look. “Well, that certainly didn’t happen, did it?”
Her mother chuckled. “No, which begs the question, what is your relationship with Rafe O’Donnell?”
“I wish I knew,” Gina said plaintively. “It’s...it’s confusing.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She shook her head. “Not yet, Mom, but I’ll tell you everything when I get it sorted out. I promise.”
“If you want your father to run him off, he will, you know.”
Gina grinned. “I know, and believe me, the thought holds a certain appeal.” She uttered a sigh of resignation. “But Rafe would just come back again.”
“Your father was a persistent man, too,” Jane said, looking nostalgic.
“Did you ever try to shake him?”
“For a while,” she said, then grinned. “But my heart was never in it. Is your heart really in getting rid of Rafe once and for all?”
“Apparently not,” Gina said. In fact, she was beginning to look forward to having him pop up when she least expected it. As for those devastating kisses, she was pretty sure she was becoming addicted.
5 (#ulink_70f13e20-89a8-576f-b0a3-5b8843e17336)
Rafe had expected to be back in New York by Monday. Unfortunately, Gina showed every sign of sticking to her guns and staying in Winding River for a full two weeks. He’d hoped that his pestering would eventually wear her down, but she was clearly stubborn. Maybe that trait was also the reason she hadn’t given in to the inevitable and shuttered Café Tuscany already.
He had been true to his word on Sunday. He’d steered clear of her, though he hadn’t been able to resist taking a stroll through the park where the reunion attendees were gathered for their picnic. Gina had been playing baseball at the time, looking more carefree than she had since arriving in Wyoming. He regretted being the one responsible for putting a perpetual frown on her face, the worry lines between her eyes, but he had a job to do, whether he liked it or not.
Since it looked like he was stuck here, he had no choice but to call his office and have his appointments shifted to other partners or postponed until his return.
Even as he dialed, he was dreading the third degree he was likely to get from his meddlesome secretary.
“Have you made contact yet?” Lydia asked in an undertone, as if he were on some sort of secret mission.
“Yes, I have ‘made contact,’” Rafe said impatiently. “How are things on that end? Any word from the investigator on Rinaldi’s whereabouts?”
“Nothing. Charlie Flynn says the man has vanished. He’s probably basking in the sun on a beach in the Cayman Islands by now.”
“Entirely possible,” Rafe agreed. “What’s the deal on the restaurant? Have you been by there?”
“It was operating at full capacity last night. I checked it myself. Gina’s assistant has everything running smoothly. The veal piccata was as superb as ever.”
“Did I pay for your dinner?”
“No, but now that you mention it, that’s a very good idea. After all, it seems I was spying for you.”
“If that’s what you were doing, you must not be very good at it. You’re not giving me anything I can use, Lydia.”
“Because there’s nothing to pass along. All I can say is that it’s a shame that jerk’s actions might bankrupt the place.”
“Is the word out about Bobby skipping town?”
“It wasn’t in any of the society columns, and Deidre, that’s Gina’s assistant, acted as if everything were perfectly normal. If there was any buzz about their problems, I certainly didn’t hear it.” She hesitated, then said, “You know, if you just stopped bugging her, I think Gina could keep the place open and pay back all the money Bobby stole. Not that she should have to, if you ask me, but I suppose somebody is obligated to make good on the investors’ losses. Why not at least give her a chance?”
“If she’s guilty of conspiring with her partner—”
“She’s not,” Lydia retorted, cutting him off. “I wish you’d just use that supposedly stellar gut instinct of yours where she’s concerned. Have you spent a single minute with her? If you had, you’d know she’s no thief.”
Maybe not, Rafe thought, but he refused to give his know-it-all secretary the satisfaction of admitting that just yet. Then there was the very intriguing question of how Gina was keeping the place afloat on her own. Assuming she wasn’t involved in the scam—which he still considered to be a sizable leap—she had to be hurting financially.
Then again, Lauren Winters probably had very deep pockets. Even though Gina had insisted she wasn’t going to burden her friends with her problems, maybe she had lied. Maybe Lauren was quietly bailing her friend out of her financial difficulties. Rafe wondered if he owed the actress a warning about what a risky venture she’d be getting into. Unfortunately, based on past experience, he had a hunch she wouldn’t take the news well and that she’d manage to turn him into the bad guy.
“Lydia, cancel my appointments for the next two weeks. If that changes, I’ll let you know.”
“You’re staying?” she asked, sounding more pleased than shocked. “Why?”
“Because Gina is staying.”
“How are you and Gina getting along?”
“Let’s just say nobody’s likely to nominate us for couple of the year.” He tried to keep the regret out of his voice when he said it.
Apparently he’d succeeded, because Lydia sighed heavily. “Then you’re an even bigger fool than I thought you were,” she said. “Romantically speaking, of course.”
“Of course,” he said wryly. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“You’ve been doing it for seven years. I should be used to it,” she said with weary resignation. “But I keep holding out hope that one of these days you’ll come to your senses, find a woman who can put up with you and settle down.”
She paused, then added, “Now would be a good time, Rafe. You’re not getting any younger, and you could do a whole lot worse than Gina Petrillo.”
“So you’ve mentioned—more than once, as a matter of fact.”
“It bears repeating,” she said. “Bye, boss.”
“Goodbye, Lydia. Hopefully they’ll appreciate your humor in the unemployment line.”
“Your threats don’t bother me.”
“I know. I know. All those bodies,” he said and hung up. If only he could find a few of the skeletons in her closet. A woman as cheeky as Lydia was bound to have dozens of them.
* * *
If he was going to stay in Winding River, Rafe couldn’t keep wearing the same clothes, especially since the only dry cleaner in town seemed to have a quirky disregard for customer service. Whoever owned the business apparently opened when he felt like it. If he had regular hours, they weren’t posted, and Rafe had yet to see the lights on in the business.
The only clothing store in town offered Western wear. Rafe resigned himself to a new wardrobe of jeans he’d rarely have the opportunity to wear once he got back to New York. His closet was filled with practical suits and three tuxedos for all of the charity events he was duty-bound to attend because his partners’ wives served on the boards and the fund-raising committees.
He left the hotel, walked down Main Street and was about to go into the clothing store when he spotted Emma Rogers accompanied by a little girl, who looked as if she might be about six. Emma frowned when she saw him.
“Still here, Mr. O’Donnell?” Emma asked, her tone not especially friendly. “I thought you’d be long gone by now.”
“I’m afraid my business is taking longer than I’d hoped.”
Her gaze narrowed. “What exactly is your business?”
Before he could respond, Gina came darting out of the café across the street and pointedly got between them. Ignoring the two adults, she hunkered down to give the little girl a hug.
“Caitlyn Rogers, you are getting so big I hardly recognized you. How old are you now? Ten?”
The child giggled. “No, Aunt Gina, I’m only six.”
“I can’t believe it.” She leaned closer. “I think Stella has your pancakes on the griddle. Do you want to run on over there so you can get them while they’re hot?”
Caitlyn looked up at her mother. “Is it okay?”
Emma regarded Gina with amusement, then turned her attention to her daughter. “Go,” she said. When the little girl would have darted straight across the street, Emma reached out and caught her. “Hey, what do we do before crossing the street, even here in Winding River?”
Caitlyn regarded her guiltily. “Look both ways,” she said, then dutifully did just that.
“Okay then, now you can go.”
All three of them watched the child’s progress, then Gina beamed at Emma. “We should join her.”
“In a minute,” Emma said. “Rafe was just about to explain why he’s still in town.”
Gina gave him a sharp look. “Was he really?”
He grinned. “Emma was certainly hopeful that I might. In all honesty, I was heading for the store to buy some clothes.”
“You don’t look like a man who wears a lot of jeans,” Emma said. “In fact, if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say you usually wear thousand-dollar suits. I recognize the type. I go up against them in court every day. In fact, again if I were guessing, I’d say you’re either a lawyer or a stockbroker, Mr. O’Donnell. Which is it? Or are my instincts totally wrong?”
Rafe looked to Gina for some sense of what she expected him to do under the circumstances. She sighed.
“Oh, for heaven’s sakes, he’s a lawyer,” she said with no attempt to hide her exasperation. “Now that we know you have razor-sharp instincts, Emma, can we please go get some breakfast? I’m starved.”
“Not until we clear up one more thing,” Emma said, her gaze locked with Rafe’s. “Why are you hassling Gina?”
“Maybe I’m just a suitor who won’t take no for an answer,” he said, enjoying the flash of indignation in Gina’s eyes. Apparently she liked that explanation even less than the truth.
Emma’s gaze turned to Gina. “Is he?”
“He’s the most annoying man I know,” Gina said with heartfelt sincerity. “And that is all I intend to say on the subject.” She latched on to Emma’s arm. “Let’s go.”
This time her friend allowed herself to be led away, but not before pointedly meeting Rafe’s gaze. “I’m keeping an eye on you,” she warned.
Emma and half the rest of the people in Winding River, Rafe thought with resignation. Would a thief inspire that kind of protectiveness and loyalty? He needed to ask more questions about Gina, but doing so would stir up a real hornet’s nest. She might never forgive him for unfairly dragging her friends and family into this, and for reasons he didn’t care to examine too closely, that bothered him way more than it should.
* * *
“So, I was telling Mommy that I think we should live here forever and ever,” Caitlyn told Gina, her eyes shining. “Grandpa has already gotten me my own horse.”
“Grandpa ought to know better,” Emma grumbled under her breath, then smiled at her daughter. “Darling, we live in Denver. You’d miss all your friends if we moved here.”
“No, I wouldn’t,” Caitlyn insisted. “I already have a lot of friends here.” Her expression brightened. “And I have cousins here. I don’t have any cousins in Denver.”
“She’s got you there,” Gina said, grinning.
“Oh, stay out of it,” Emma snapped. “I don’t see you moving back to Winding River.”
“You never know,” Gina said. Of course, if Rafe was successful in his attempts to make her part of Bobby’s scam, she might be in jail instead, but it was seeming more and more likely that she was going to have to leave New York once this mess was straightened out. Customers could be fickle. If Café Tuscany’s reputation was tarnished, they would stay away in droves. Any chance she might have of paying off the old debts would vanish.
She sighed, then realized that Emma was staring at her with a shocked expression. “What?” she asked.
“You aren’t seriously considering coming back here to live, are you?” Emma asked. “I thought you had your dream job in your dream city.”
“I do, but things could change.”
“Does this have something to do with Rafe?”
Gina nodded. “Let it alone, though, Emma. You have enough on your plate without me dumping my worries on you.”
“Hey, we’re friends. Friends can always share their troubles with each other.”
“Then why don’t you tell me why you’re wound tighter than a string on Pete Sampras’s tennis racket?”
“Too much work, too little time,” Emma said succinctly.
“Mommy is never, ever home,” Caitlyn said. “She works really, really hard.”
