A Maverick's Christmas Homecoming. Teresa Southwick
Читать онлайн книгу.
plate. “After getting a business degree, I went to New York.”
“And?” He poured a little more wine in her glass. “What did you do there?”
“I opened a travel agency.”
“So, you took a bite out of the Big Apple.” Brave girl. He was impressed. His first business venture had been close to home in L.A. She jumped right into the big time. “Apparently I’m not the only one who’s been all over the world.”
She lifted her shoulder, a noncommittal gesture. “I was pretty busy getting the company off the ground.”
“It’s a lot of work, but incredibly exciting turning a dream into reality.”
“Speaking of reality,” she said, clearly intending to change the subject. “You certainly turned your appearance on that reality cooking show—If You Can’t Stand the Heat—into culinary success.”
“I was lucky.”
“Oh, please. If you call talent, charm, good looks and a clever way with a wooden spoon luck, then I’m the Duchess of Cambridge.”
He laughed. “So you think I’m not hard on the eyes?”
“Are you kidding? You’re gorgeous.” She looked a little surprised that the words had come out of her mouth. “But, for the record, really? That was your takeaway from what I just said?”
It was better than wondering where his looks had come from. “Beauty is as beauty does.”
“What does that even mean?”
“You got me. Do you have someone running the travel agency?” Which begged another question. “Why are you here in Thunder Canyon?”
“Personal reasons.” The sparkle disappeared from her eyes and she frowned before quickly adding, “I’m only here for a little while. Not much longer.”
Shane understood personal reasons and the reluctance to talk about them so he didn’t ask further. “Are you anxious to get back?”
“Who wouldn’t be?” She took the stem of her wineglass and turned it. “There’s a rumor that your contract here at The Gallatin Room is only six months.”
“Yeah.” He’d thought that would give him enough time to find out what he wanted to know, but he’d only found out half of it. Now the question was whether or not to keep going and what to do with the information he already had. “So it seems both of us have a time limit here in town.”
It was weird, probably part of the pathetic, poetic streak kicking in tonight, but talking to her had made him realize that since coming here he’d been a loner. And suddenly he was lonely. But the last thing he needed in his life was a long-term romantic complication. She was beautiful, funny and smart. He wanted to see her again and she wasn’t staying in town. That made her the perfect woman.
“I guess you could say I have a time limit here,” she agreed.
“Then we shouldn’t waste any time. Have dinner with me.”
She looked at his empty plate. “Didn’t we just do that?”
“Sassy.” He grinned and added that to her list of attributes. “I meant something away from work. Monday is the only day the restaurant is closed and every place within a twenty-mile radius is, too. How about I cook for you at my condo? It’s not far, here on the resort grounds.”
“I know. But—”
“It’s just a home-cooked meal. How does six-thirty sound?”
“I don’t know—” Her expression said she was struggling with an answer.
That’s when he gave her the grin that reality show enthusiasts had called his secret ingredient. “Doing double-duty tonight deserves a double thank-you.”
“When you put it that way … How can I say no?”
“Good. I look forward to it.”
Gianna had been looking forward to this evening since Shane Roarke had invited her to dinner. She took the elevator to the third floor of the building on Thunder Canyon Resort grounds where his condo was located. After five months of nursing a crush on him she could hardly believe he’d finally asked her out. Or in. It felt surreal, with a dash of guilt for good measure.
What she’d told him about herself in New York was a little sketchy. She hadn’t so much taken a bite out of the Big Apple as been chewed up and spit out by it. Apartments were small and expensive. The travel agency didn’t survive, a casualty of the internet, with more people looking online, eliminating the middle man. And the recession. And she’d seen no point in sharing with Shane that she kept falling into the trap of choosing men who had no intention of committing.
She hadn’t lied about personal reasons bringing her back to Thunder Canyon. It was the elaborating part she’d left out. Being unemployed and penniless were personal and her primary motivation in coming home. A job at The Gallatin Room was getting her back on her feet. She had a small apartment above the new store Real Vintage Cowboy and the only car she could afford was a fifteen-year-old clunker that she hoped would hold together because she couldn’t afford a new one. Sharing all of that with a sexy, sophisticated, successful man like Shane Roarke wasn’t high on her list of things to do.
After stepping out of the elevator she walked down the thick, soft carpeted hall to the corner apartment, the one with the best views.
“Here goes nothing,” she whispered, knocking on the door. Moments later Shane was there. “Hi.”
“You’re very punctual.” He stepped back and pulled the door wider. “Come in. Let me take your things.”
She slipped out of her long, black quilted coat and handed it to him along with her purse, then followed as he walked into the living room. It was stunning. The wood entryway opened to a plush beige carpet, white overstuffed sofa, glass tables and twelve-foot windows on two sides. High ceilings held recessed lighting and the expanse of warm, wheatcolored walls were covered with artwork that looked like it cost more than she made in a year.
“Wow.” Gianna had been nervous before but now her nerves got a shot of adrenaline. “This is beautiful.”
“I think so, too.” Shane’s gaze was firmly locked on her face.
Her heart stuttered and skidded. His eyes weren’t the color of sapphires or tanzanite, more like blue diamonds, an unusual shade for a stone that could cut glass. Or turn icy. Right this second his gaze was all heat and intensity.
“I’ve never seen you in a dress before. Green is your color,” he said. “It looks beautiful with your hair.”
Outside snow blanketed the ground; it was December in Montana, after all. But this moment had been worth the cold blast of air up her skirt during the walk from her clunker of a car. She’d given tonight’s outfit a lot of thought and decided he saw her in black pants most of the time. Tonight she wanted him to see her in something different, see her in a different way. The approval on his face as he glanced at her legs told her it was mission accomplished.
“’Tis the season for green.”
She’d never seen him out of work clothes, either. The blue shirt with long sleeves rolled up suited his dark hair and brought out his eyes, she thought. Designer jeans fit his long legs and spectacular butt as if made especially for him. For all she knew they might have been.
“Would you like some chardonnay?”
“Only if it pairs well with what you’re cooking,” she answered.
“It does.”
She followed him to the right and into the kitchen with state-of-the-art, stainless-steel refrigerator, dishwasher and cooktop. It was most likely top-of-the-line, not that she was an expert or anything. Ambience she knew something about and his table was set for two with matching silverware,