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Authors: Debbi Rawlins

A Glimpse of Fire (14 page)

BOOK: A Glimpse of Fire
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“Always.” She smiled, freeing herself so she could stow the jacket on the couch without wrinkling it.

Eric followed her. “The hell with the driver. He can wait.”

She put up a restraining hand. “Down boy. Seriously. We need to get through this dinner first.”

His gaze narrowed. “That doesn’t sound encouraging. Is there something I should know about tonight?”

“Nothing, really.” Dallas sighed, wondering how much to say without spooking him. She’d already had a talk with her mother, warning her that playing old tapes would not be welcome. If the conversation went in the direction of her job or personal life, Dallas would promptly leave. “My parents can be a bit trying, though.”

“Trying,” he repeated warily.

“A couple of pains in the ass, actually.” She smiled. “But don’t worry. They’ll be on their best behavior with you.”

He frowned, looking worried, and she was sorry she’d said anything. “Define
pains,
” he said.

She took his hand and squeezed it. “You’ll probably find them quite charming. It’s me. We haven’t always seen eye to eye on things. And I haven’t been what you call a dutiful daughter.”

“Ah, I get it.” He seemed to relax. “Will I like your brother and sister?”

“Dakota will charm your socks off. Cody will talk business and about the stock market until your eyes glaze over. They’re both lawyers.”

“What about your parents?”

“Dad’s a judge and Mother is a biology professor.”

“Whoa.” Eric looked more than a little surprised. “Well-educated family.”

“Yep.” And then there was her, the black sheep of the family. The thorn in the otherwise perfect rose.

“You should be proud of them.”

“I am.”

He smiled, disbelief flickering in his eyes, but he wisely kept his own counsel.

The thing was she really was proud of them. They’d all made enormous contributions to society. Well, her father and Dakota particularly. Her sister tirelessly worked pro bono cases on behalf of battered women, and her father had been responsible for groundbreaking legislation protecting abused children.

Her mother and Cody were more mercenary and strived to make the society columns. Social status was important, and they didn’t stray from their ivory towers. But they were basically good people and did their jobs well. Dallas had no problem with their choices in life. None of her business, really. She just wished they stayed out of hers.

She sighed. “I know I’ve given you the wrong impression. I love my family.” She shrugged. “We’re just different. It’s hard to explain.”

A thoughtful frown drew his eyebrows together, and he looked at her as if he weren’t really seeing her. “I get it.” He blinked. “It’s the same with me and my family.”

She smiled, doubtful he truly understood, but that was okay.

The buzzer rang from the lobby, signaling that their driver had arrived. This was it. No turning back now. Within forty minutes they’d be in Tarrytown.

Dallas took a deep breath. “Okay. Showtime.”

14

E
RIC LAUGHED HUMORLESSLY TO
himself as they passed through the double white iron gates that allowed them onto the Shea property. Not considered an estate—at least not by Tarrytown standards—but damn close. About an acre of sloping green lawn, large old pine and oak trees and a curving driveway that led to a stately white Victorian that had to be a hundred years old. Nope, this wasn’t the same at all.

If Dallas were to see the place where he grew up, her jaw would hit the ground. His parents still lived there. In a small three-bedroom row house where if you sat on the porch, all you could see was thick black smoke rising from the steel mill where nearly everyone in town worked, including his father and brothers. God, was he glad to be away from there.

When his pop had retired last year, Eric had tried to get them to move, offered to subsidize the cost after they sold the house, but they wouldn’t hear of it. That was home. They were happy. Eric couldn’t understand that mentality. But he did respect it and had backed off.

He looked over at Dallas. She’d lain her head back
against the leather seat, and idly stared out the window. “You grew up here?”

“What?” She brought her head up. “Oh, yeah.”

“Nice. Very nice.”

“The house has been in the family for four generations. My father inherited it from my grandparents when I was about three. Before that we lived in the city.” She smiled. “Obviously I don’t remember. This has always been home to me.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen this much grass in two years. You must miss living out here.”

She smiled. “How quickly you’ve forgotten our ride in Central Park.”

“Oh, no.” He squeezed her hand and their gazes met and held. “I haven’t forgotten.”

The car came to a stop. The driver had pulled into the circular drive that put them close to the front door. He got out, dressed in a white dress shirt, black slacks, his graying wavy hair slicked back, and opened Dallas’s door.

Totally juvenile, he knew, but Eric hoped her family was watching. First impressions were important. He didn’t want them to think their daughter had come with some bum from Pittsburgh.

After they both got out, the driver, in accented English, asked what time they wanted to be picked up. Eric looked at Dallas.

She shrugged. “Ten minutes?”

The driver frowned.

Eric laughed. “She’s joking.” He glanced at his watch. Stupid, since he knew what time it was. Maybe
he was a little nervous. “How about nine-thirty? Does that sound about right?”

Dallas nodded. “Fine.”

The driver got back in the car, and they started up the front steps. Before they got to the door, it opened. A short dark-haired woman of indeterminate age, dressed all in black, stood at the threshold smiling.

“Tilly.” Dallas took the last two steps at once and hugged the slight woman. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.”

“That’s because you don’t come to visit your parents often enough,” the woman scolded with gruff affection. She stepped back, holding Dallas by the shoulders to look at her. “You’ve gained some weight.”

“Uh, thanks for pointing that out.” Dallas glanced over at him, a touch of pink in her cheeks.

“It’s good. You were too thin.” The woman squeezed Dallas’s upper arm. “Give me another hug.”

Dallas obliged her and then turned to Eric. “This is Tilly. She’s been with us forever.”

Tilly extended her hand. Her palm was slightly rough. “I’m the Sheas’ housekeeper.”

“I’m Eric,” he said when it seemed Dallas had forgotten to finish the introduction.

“Sorry.” Dallas briefly covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a giggle. She sounded like a little girl.

Tilly apparently noticed, too, and snorted. “I used to be the children’s nanny, as well. Sometimes I think they haven’t grown up yet.”

“I haven’t.” Dallas tossed her hair back and shooed Tilly inside. “Where is everyone?”

“On the back patio having drinks and watching the sunset.”

Eric sighed. So much for the grand entrance complete with car and driver. He followed the two women through the large foyer, catching glimpses of the dining room on the right and the living room on the left. Lots of polished hardwood floors and Persian rugs, large vases of fresh flowers, an eclectic array of art pieces, no doubt expensive, in unexpected places.

They came to a sunroom, and beyond the French doors he saw them—three women and two men sitting around a glass table, looking casually chic with drinks in hand—and he suddenly wished like hell he hadn’t let Dallas talk him out of bringing a bottle of wine.

Dallas abruptly stopped. “Who is that?”

“Clair Sumner.” Tilly winked. “Your brother seems serious about this one.”

Dallas crossed her arms and briefly hugged herself. She seemed unduly annoyed. Almost panicked, which made no sense. “Mother didn’t tell me there would be someone else here besides family.”

Tilly’s brows came down in a perplexed frown. “Is that a problem?”

Dallas blinked at her and then darted a look at Eric. She turned back to Tilly with a forced smile. “No, of course not. It’s just— Oh, God, please tell me she’s not dull as dishwater.”

“Shush.” Tilly pinched her wrist. “Behave yourself, young lady.”

“Ouch.” She rubbed the assaulted area. “I’m not going to say anything.” She leaned close to Eric and rolled her eyes. “He’s had the most boring girlfriends you could possibly imagine.”

Something had clearly spooked her. She’d tried to cover up her alarm, but he knew the woman’s presence had somehow unnerved Dallas. Tilly seemed to know, as well.

An older woman with a remarkable resemblance to Dallas spotted them. She said something that made everyone turn around and watch him and Dallas go out the French doors. The two men stood.

“Before you start getting all chatty, tell me what you’d like to drink,” Tilly said.

Eric glanced at the drinks on the table.

“We have just about everything,” she said softly, her kind dark eyes putting him at ease.

“Scotch?”

She nodded.

“Thanks.”

“He likes it neat,” Dallas said. “And I’ll have—”

“I know what you want.” Laughing, Tilly shook her head and closed the doors.

Dallas cleared her throat and moved toward the others. “Hi, everyone, I’d like you to meet Eric Harmon.”

Lean and tall and looking remarkably fit, the older man, who had to be Dallas’s father, gave him a warm smile and a firm handshake. His hair was almost entirely
white, yet he didn’t even look sixty. “Harrison Shea,” he said. Dallas’s father, of course.

“Pleased to meet you, sir,” Eric said, and was mildly amused that the man didn’t object to the
sir
part.

“That’s my mother, Andrea.” Dallas gestured with her hand, and the woman nodded, her smile not as warm as her husband’s, her gaze definitely speculative.

“That’s Dakota.”

No doubt they were sisters. The same high cheekbones and heart-shaped face, but her hair was a darker blond and her eyes were more gray than blue. And like Dallas, she had a great smile.

“And this is my brother, Cody.”

The man nodded, his lips barely moving. Eric didn’t take it personally. This was the kind of guy who wasn’t comfortable smiling. Dallas had warned him her brother was conservative. No kidding. One look said it all—the short haircut, the preppy white oxford shirt and khaki slacks, the serious gray eyes, no laugh lines there.

She looked at the woman next to him and smiled. “I understand you’re Clair.”

The brunette nodded and stood, petite, maybe five-two, a Lilliputian in a land of giants. Not a single Shea could be under five-eight.

They shook hands all the way around, Andrea the only one not getting to her feet. Which didn’t bother him. Feeling like one of her biology experiments being viewed under a microscope did. She was someone he didn’t want to end up alone with at any time this evening. She’d be too curious. No telling what she was liable to ask him.

She had to be in her late fifties yet looked more like Dallas and Dakota’s sister. And like her two daughters, she was truly beautiful. She sure as hell didn’t come off as a biology professor.

Tilly brought out their drinks and then took orders from the others for refills. No one demurred, which suited Eric fine. The more relaxed they all were, the better the evening was likely to go.

While Andrea instructed Tilly on dinner, he checked out the three Shea women. Any one of them easily could have enjoyed a lucrative modeling career. They had that look that brought ad campaigns to life. Horn had seen it in Dallas. That’s why he wanted her.

He couldn’t think about Horn right now. Or his demands. Later tonight would be soon enough. When they were alone, back at Eric’s place. He’d lay the whole thing out for Dallas. The offer was good. She could make a lot of money, and with a three-year contract there’d be security, as well.

He glanced from Dallas to Dakota to Andrea and realized his confidence had slipped the minute he’d seen the three women together. They all looked like models, yet they’d chosen traditional careers rather than trading on their beauty. Maybe modeling was taboo. Too frivolous.

Of course, he still didn’t know what Dallas did, which irked the hell out of him. All he knew is that she’d modeled once. Maybe she was trying to get into acting and was embarrassed to admit it. That would work in his favor. As Horn’s spokesperson, she’d be seen all over the tristate area.

“So, Eric, tell us what you do,” Andrea said, and Eric had to quickly regroup.

All eyes on him, he smiled. “Advertising. I work for Webber and Thornton.”

“Oh.” Andrea’s lips lifted in approval. “Where?”

“Manhattan.”

“What exactly do you do for them?”

“I’m an ad exec. I devise slogans, print ads, commercials, billboards—anything that sells the product.”

“How nice. Sounds productive.” She slanted Dallas a brief look that made her stiffen. “Have you two known each other long?”

“A few weeks,” Dallas said quickly and then stared pointedly out at the pool. “Did you have it tiled again?”

Harrison sighed with a hint of disgust. “Your mother didn’t like the dark-blue-and-green combination.”

“But you just had it done last year.”

Andrea sniffed and picked up her glass. Two lone ice cubes clinked together.

“Touchy subject.” Cody gave Dallas a warning look. “Let’s drop it.” His hair was darker than the rest of the family’s, and his eyes were closer to Dakota’s color. Good-looking guy but too serious for the camera.

“Got it.” Dallas picked up her wine and sipped.

Eric turned to Andrea, almost as if he’d sensed her stare.

She smiled. “What else should we know about you, Eric? Where are you from? Where did you meet our Dallas? Not at work, I’m sure.”

“Mother.”

“I’m just making conversation, dear.” She met Dallas’s gaze and held it. “Not to worry.”

“Yes, after all, Clair already has gotten the third degree,” Harrison said. “I think your mother should have been the one who went to law school.”

Eric smiled. No one else did. Apparently Harrison wasn’t just teasing, given the tense looks exchanged by his two daughters.

Tilly showed up with a tray, and as everyone busied themselves with claiming their respective drinks and sampling the crab-stuffed mushrooms, the tension quickly passed. Before she left, Tilly informed them that dinner would be served in half an hour.

“Excuse us for a moment, would you?” Dallas said as she rose from the table. “I’d like to show Eric Mother’s garden before the sun sets completely.”

Eric got up just as Andrea said, “Really, Dallas, we just met the man. Must you drag him away?”

“Good idea. Check out the roses,” Dakota said quickly. “The salmon-colored ones are awesome.”

“The garden lights will come on at any moment. You can go for a stroll later.” Andrea waved a hand as if the matter were closed.

“We won’t be long.” Dallas took his hand. With her other one she grabbed her glass of wine. Even after their short acquaintance he recognized the stubborn set of her jaw and didn’t argue.

He did give the others an apologetic shrug of his shoulders as he was led away. Not that he wouldn’t rather be alone with Dallas, but he didn’t want to piss
off Andrea either. The woman obviously could be a real pain, but she was Dallas’s mother and he preferred she be on his side.

Frankly he wasn’t sorry Dallas had chosen that moment to liberate them. He hated the eventual turn Andrea’s question would take. Hated admitting he was from Pittsburgh. That his family was a bunch of steel-workers. Hated even more that he felt that way.

As soon as they got past the white gazebo on the other side of the pool, Dallas mumbled under her breath, “God, why did I come here? I should have known better.”

“Hey, come on. It’s not so bad.”

She looked at him with miserable blue eyes. “Plus, I drag you here to suffer, too.”

“Fair is fair. I dragged you to Horn’s party.” He squeezed her hand. “Seriously everything’s been fine. I feel totally comfortable.”

“Right.” She withdrew her hand and sipped her wine, staring out over a sea of yellow and pink roses sheltered by an ivy-covered brick wall separating their property from their neighbor’s.

“Look, I don’t understand your family dynamics. Obviously there’s an undercurrent I don’t get. But I am sorry you’re annoyed.” He decided not to tell her that he thought she was overreacting.

“No, I assure you, you don’t get it. Hell, I don’t totally get it.” She bit her lower lip. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.”

He remained silent for several moments, not sure what to say. He really didn’t know this woman. Not the way he wanted to. All he could do was change the subject.
“This garden is something. It’s been so damn hot the last couple of weeks, I’m surprised these roses held up.”

She smiled as if she knew he had no idea what he was talking about. Maybe roses liked the heat. What the hell did he know about flowers or gardens? Not a Pittsburgh boy like him.

Dallas leaned against him, and they looked out over the mass of roses and ivy and some other little white flowers he didn’t recognize—miniature roses maybe. Clinging to a vine, they climbed over the top layer of a white flagstone fountain nestled in the corner.

BOOK: A Glimpse of Fire
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