She slid one finger beneath her hair and tucked it behind her right ear, gripping the strap of her purse tightly with her other hand. “Good morning.”
He studied her. “You didn’t sleep. You need to rest, Suzanne. You’re worn out.”
Why was it he could make her temper kick up so easily? “I’m perfectly fine. You needn’t worry about me.” She subjected him to the same perusal. “How did you sleep?”
The broad shoulders shrugged. “I slept great. Overslept, in fact.”
Damn him. He did look rested, at least more so than she felt.
A long pause ensued.
Michael broke it. “Have you had breakfast?”
She shook her head. “I’m not much on eating first thing in the morning.”
“Well, I’m starved. I only had an apple after my run.” He held out a hand. “Come have breakfast with me and we’ll make plans.”
Carefully, she avoided touching him. Taking his hand last night was where the problem started. “I’m not really hungry, but I suppose we do need to talk.”
Michael’s smile was too perceptive. He walked beside her down the hall and leaned closer. “So you’re not chickening out?”
Suzanne turned to look at him. “Are you?”
He hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. “No. Not if it’s still what you want.”
What she wanted? Did she want this? She wanted her son, yes, but if there were any other way…
“Calculating your options?”
She saw his knowing smile. Why did he have to be so big, so thoroughly male? Feeling the heat of his big body beside her, she was thrown back into last night, into how safe she’d felt tucked against him.
Safety was seductive, a luxury she couldn’t afford. The last time she’d felt safe, she’d been fifteen and wildly in love. It had been her last fling with innocence, with wholehearted abandon. The price had been high. Too high.
She settled for honesty. “I wish I could see an option, but I can’t. Only giving up Bobby, and I won’t do that again. What about you? Surely you’ve come to your senses and know how insane this is.”
“I gave you my word, Suzanne. I don’t welsh on commitments.” Her hair had swung out from behind her ear as she turned. With one long finger, he tucked it back.
Her breathing deepened. Everything stood still.
Then someone opened the door beside them. With a jolt, she blinked as if awakening from a dream.
Michael broke the contact, putting out one hand to hold the door open for her.
Suzanne brushed past him, very, very careful not to touch.
They were back in Ruby’s. Back in the same booth. But not the same people they were last night.
Michael sipped his coffee and studied the woman across from him. She was no longer in despair, but she was nervous. Really nervous. Her napkin was twisted and shredded on the ends.
“Suzanne, you don’t have to be afraid of me. I promise I’m not an ogre.”
Her head jerked upward. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“Look, we don’t have to do this, you know. It’s going to be tough enough if we cooperate. Being at odds will only make things harder.”
She dropped her napkin and exhaled. “I know. I’m sorry. I just—” She stopped, stared behind him. Her face underwent a major change into horror, and she leaned forward, whispering. “Oh, no. Here comes Homer Wentworth’s wife.”
Michael leaned toward her. “Then I’d say we’d better put on a good show for the town gossip if we want to sell that we were overcome by passion and couldn’t wait.” He picked up her hand and kissed her fingertips. When she sucked in a quick breath, he reminded himself that this was all for show.
“Is she still looking?”
“Hmm?” Suzanne stiffened and looked behind him. “Oh. Yes.”
“Then you might want to smile as though you like it.”
“Right.” Quickly she treated him to a blinding smile.
He squeezed her hand and tried to ignore the jolt that accompanied every time he touched her. “That’s good. Maybe a little contrived, but—”
Suddenly she leaned across the table and put her mouth on his.
Just as quickly, she sat back on her seat, her violet eyes wide and a little too bright.
He knew how she felt. Maybe if they kissed a lot, it would get ordinary.
Yeah, right.
She arched one raven eyebrow. “Was that more convincing?”
Michael had to chuckle. Damned if he’d let her know that the punch landed straight to the gut. Whimpering might have been tempting, but it wouldn’t do for the mayor to howl at the moon. Especially on a bright Wednesday morning. “Yeah.” He exhaled forcefully. “That should work.”
“So,” she said with the faintest quiver in her voice. “How shall we do this?”
“I think Tahoe is our best bet. This weekend. We spend the rest of the week showing people that the sparks they’ve seen flying at council meetings have turned to something new, so it seems in character. Scales falling from the eyes, that sort of thing. We got under each other’s skin and one day we realized why.”
Her eyes were huge and uncertain as she studied him, but after a moment she nodded and looked down at her coffee cup. “I suppose that’s the best angle, some sort of physical reaction that got out of control. We can pretend that it’s true, that we got swept away. Then when it’s over, we’ll just say that we were too hasty. Didn’t take enough time to know the other as a person.”
Pretend that it’s true? There was too much truth in it for comfort. She was lying to herself if she said otherwise. The body doesn’t lie, and he’d felt her respond to him. She couldn’t have missed his response to her.
But let her lie to herself all she wanted. It would make it easier for him to keep his hands to himself except in public.
“Yeah.” He nodded sagely and resisted a smile. “So how about if I make arrangements in Tahoe for Saturday? We can leave that morning and be back that afternoon.”
“It’s close to a five hour drive. We’d need to leave early.”
“We’ll be there in less than an hour. We’ll take my plane.”
She blinked, then her eyes widened. “You have your own plane?”
He shrugged. “It has its uses.”
Her voice cooled noticeably. “Right. Useful.”
“What?” He didn’t like her look.
“Nothing.” She glanced away.
“What, Suzanne? Remember Mrs. Wentworth behind us. It doesn’t look good for you to be scowling at me. That’s the old routine, remember?”
She glanced past him and pasted on a smile.
“That’s better. Now tell me what the problem is. Are you afraid to fly?”
She shook her head.
“Afraid to fly with me? I’m a good pilot. Not one accident, and I’ve been flying since I was sixteen. I’ll take good care of you, I promise.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it? What’s the problem?”