Dear Cupid (17 page)

“Well, look at the thing. It looks just like you.”

Kate’s gaze snapped toward the cupid. Not only did it resemble her, the animation was top-notch professional. “Mike,” she breathed in disbelief.

“Who?” Gwen asked. “Are you saying you know who did this?”

“No, not for sure, but I have a suspicion.”
And if it
’
s true, I
’
m going to kill him
. How dare he pull a stunt like this when her job hung by a thread?

“Well, find out, for God’s sake.”

“I will, I assure you.” She gave the cartoon one last look, her heart breaking at the thought that it had to go. “And I’ll tell him to take the cupid off immediately.”

“No!” Gwen shouted. “Tell your friend to stay the hell out of my Web site.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll tell him that.”
And a whole lot more.

A
volley of thunder shook the windows of Mike’s workroom. He glanced up briefly, distracted by the drama of black clouds hurling lightning and rain at the hills and lake. In the background, the radio he’d tuned in to the weather station offered a steady stream of alarming updates. He’d learned soon after moving to Texas that tornadoes could be as deadly and unpredictable as the earthquakes he’d left behind in L.A. With weather like this, he had a sinking feeling he wouldn’t see Kate, or anyone else that day.

He turned back to the computer screen and tried once more to concentrate on work. He’d finished creating the 3-D robot, and had begun the tedious task of assigning keystroke commands for every movement of the hands, arms, legs, and head. Though time-consuming, the process required little concentration, which allowed his mind too much freedom to wander.

For the hundredth time, his thoughts went back to the scene by the pool. He never should have let the kiss get out of hand. From the beginning, he’d known to approach Kate cautiously. She’d obviously been hurt, and badly, for her to act so skittish.

He remembered how she’d been in L.A., feisty, sexy, confident.
That
, he suspected, was the real Kate—the Kate he’d fallen in love with the moment he’d laid eyes on her. The question was, how to get past the wounded Kate to the real woman she kept so carefully guarded? Did he push harder, or back off?

Over the low hum of the radio, he thought he heard the doorbell ring. He cocked his head, wondering if he’d imagined the sound. Who in their right mind would venture out in the midst of a major thunderstorm? The sound came again, this time in a long insistent series of rings that demanded attention.

He hit the command to save his file and dashed up the stairs. He found Kate standing in the protection of the overhang with her arms wrapped around her middle, her body shivering. Rain poured off the roof like a gray curtain behind her while droplets glistened in her hair and darkened the shoulders of her tangerine-colored T-shirt-and-shorts set. Even so, the sight of her knocked the air from his lungs, as it always did.

“You idiot,” he said, pulling her inside. “What are you doing driving in this weather?”

“What am I doing? The question is, what are you doing?” She shook her head, scattering raindrops over him and the tile floor. “Are you trying to get me fired?”

“Do you realize there’s a tornado watch in effect?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Mike, it’s springtime in Texas. Of course there’s a tornado watch in effect. When they issue a tornado
warning
, then I’ll get worried. Now will you answer my question?”

“What question?”

“What did you think you were doing, putting that animation on my Web page?”

“Saw it, did you?” He grinned. Even though the animation was relatively simple, he’d spent an entire day and half the night creating it for her. It was his form of an apology, he supposed, a kind of peace offering.

“Yes, I saw it!” she snapped. “And so did Gwen, the woman who owns the e-zine that sponsors my site. Do you have any idea how furious she is?”

“Why?” He frowned. “Because I gave you a present that would normally cost a few grand?”

“A few ...
grand
?”  Her face paled for an instant, before anger had the color flooding back. “Are you crazy? I didn’t ask you to give me anything. Especially not something so, so—”

“Personal?”

“Outrageous!” Her hands flew, adding emphasis to every word. Her fire and energy completely enthralled him. “You broke into Gwen’s Web site. For all she knows you corrupted her files, stole data, planted a virus.”

“I didn’t break into her site,” he said defensively. “I broke into yours, and did some badly needed sprucing up. As for Gwen’s accusations, I hope you know me better than to think I’d steal or destroy anything.”

“Of course I do. But she doesn’t.” Kate placed a hand over her eyes as if to forestall a headache. “I can’t believe you did this to me. Do you realize I could get fired over something like this?”

“That’s nonsense. It’s your Web site.”

“No it’s not.” She dropped her hand. “I only write the articles. Gwen pays for the site. But even if it were my site, I resent your arrogant assumption that I would want you to go in and spruce it up, whether it needed it or not. God!” She strode away from him. “You’re no better than Edward, thinking I’m too stupid or inept to take care of my own business.”

“Wait a second.” He followed after her but stopped when she whirled on him.

“Well, I have news for you, Michael Cameron, I’m doing just fine on my own, and I don’t need any interference from you!”

“All right.” He held up his hands in surrender, even as his fingers itched to touch her. “Do you think we could sit down and discuss this rationally?”

“I don’t feel like being rational. I feel like throwing something!”

“I have some old dishes in the kitchen,” he offered. “Since they’re mismatched, you’ll probably want to throw them out anyway. So, what do you say? Wanna throw my plates in the fireplace? I’ll even help, if you like.”

She stared at him a moment, then shook her head as if amazed. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Make me so mad one minute, then make me want to laugh the next?”

“Family trait. Comes with the name. Now why don’t you sit down while I get you a towel?”

He left her long enough to duck into the master bathroom. As he rummaged through the cabinet for a clean towel, he muttered to himself. “Great Cameron, just great. Do you think you could possibly do anything else to screw up your chances here?”

When he returned to the living room, he found her seated in the armchair rather than on the sofa, which denied him the chance to sit beside her. Not to be daunted, he knelt before her. “Here,” he said, dabbing her cheek with the towel. “You’re all wet.”

“Mike,” she complained, stilling his hand with her own. “Would you stop? I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can.” He relinquished the towel, but remained where he was, just to be near her.

“It’s important to me, you know. Taking care of myself.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I spent too many years letting my parents and then my husband do things for me. Do you realize, I’d never even balanced a checkbook until two years ago?”

“There’s more important things in life than balancing a checkbook.”

“Not to me there isn’t.” She dried her forehead. “Which is why what you did really ticks me off. Being Dear Cupid is the only thing I’ve ever done on my own. Even if other people don’t take it seriously, it’s important to me. It’s everything to me. If I lose it—If Gwen cancels me—”

“What do you mean? Do you really think she’d cancel your column because of what I did?”

“No, it’s not you. It’s ...”

“What?” He took her hands in his to get her attention. “Talk to me, Kate.”

She hesitated a long moment, then heaved a sigh. “Ever since I started having trouble with my marriage, I’ve found it difficult to be upbeat in my advice to others. That’s something I’m working on, though, and the main reason I—”

“The main reason you what?” He ducked his head to meet her gaze.

“Flirted with you in L.A.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Mike ...” Pulling her hands free, she slicked her hair back, only to have it spring forward again in rebellious wet curls. “You have to understand, flirting is just something I do—something I learned when I was still knee-high. It was the natural, look-at-me ploy of a kid who could never get enough attention.”

He rocked back on his heels to study her from an objective distance. He could picture her clearly as a child, with round cheeks and lively green eyes. “I can’t imagine you having to work to get attention.”

“When you’re the baby of the family, and your older sister and brother are scholastic wonders and social overachievers, trust me, you have to work to remind people you’re even there.” She rose to pace before the windows. “The problem is ... I haven’t been very good at it lately.”

“What do you mean?” He rose as well.

She wrapped her arms about herself and stared out at the lightning and rain. “Since the day I realized my marriage was over, I’ve, well, been a little down on men.”

“Understandable.” He nodded.

“Yes. And entirely acceptable, if I weren’t Dear Cupid.” She sighed. “That day in LA., when we met, I had just come from a meeting with Gwen.”

“And?”

“She threatened to cancel my column if I didn’t turn my attitude around and become my old flirtatious self.”

“I see.” Some of the pieces began to fall together, and he wasn’t sure he liked the picture they formed.

“So you went to the airport, saw me, and decided to refresh your flirting skills.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder as thunder rumbled over the house. “I just wanted to see if I still knew how to do it.”

“Oh, yes. Trust me Kate, you definitely still know how to do it.” He felt like a fool; something she seemed to make him feel on a regular basis. While he’d been blindsided by an instant attraction to an incredibly sexy woman, he’d been nothing more to her than an experiment. “Let me ask you this.” He nailed her with a look. “Would any man have done?”

“No,” she said, but the embarrassed flush of color in her cheeks made him wonder. “I was attracted to you, Mike. Still am, obviously.”

“Are you?”

“Can you doubt that after what happened the other night?”

“Ah, yes. The other night.”

“Speaking of ...” She looked away again. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since then.”

“And?”

“And ...” She took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. “I can’t work for you anymore.”

“What?” His heart jolted and he moved around the sofa, started to reach for her, but stopped when she tensed. “What do you mean you can’t work for me?”

“Well, don’t you think it would be just a tiny bit awkward since you hired me to help you find a wife? After what happened ... after we ...” She made a helpless gesture but refused to look at him.

“Kissed?”

“Yes, I think it would be awkward.”

“Why?” With his pulse racing, he laid his hand on her shoulder and tried to turn her. “Talk to me, Kate.”

She turned enough to address the front of his Hawaiian shirt. “Because if we keep spending time together we both know what will happen. And that would be a huge mistake.”

“How could something we both want be a mistake?”

“Because,” she all but growled at him, “we’re looking for entirely different things. You want something serious, something permanent, and all I want is—” She shut her mouth abruptly.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

 “Would you please look at me?” He cupped her neck and urged her chin up with his thumb. “Tell me, Kate, what do you want?” When her eyes lifted he finally saw what she’d been trying to hide: not mild attraction, but all-out desire. Strong enough and hot enough to match his own. But he also saw fear: felt both in the rapid pulse against his palm. “You don’t have to be afraid, Kate. Just tell me what you want.”

She shook her head in denial. “I don’t want anything.”

“Liar.” He lowered his head, testing to see which would win, desire or fear. “You want this, don’t you? As much as I do.”

His lips brushed hers. She stiffened, but didn’t pull away. He deepened the contact, testing, tasting. Her body relaxed a fraction, began to lean into him. With a murmur of defeat, she surged against him. He nearly shouted in triumph as they came together in a clash as volatile as the storm outside. Their tongues tangled, giving and taking with equal abandon.

“Yes,” she sighed as her fingers slipped up along his chest. Her head dropped back as he kissed her neck. “I mean, no.” He vaguely realized her touch had changed, that she pushed at his chest rather than clung. “I can’t do this.”

When he didn’t immediately let go, she struggled to break free.