A Maverick's Christmas Homecoming. Teresa Southwick
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“Yeah. I do love it. Especially on a night like this.”
She looked up at the moon and stars. “I don’t know what’s more beautiful, the sky above or valley below.”
“Maybe it isn’t either one.”
There was a raspy quality in his voice that made her look at him. Their gazes locked and his sparked with heat and intensity. His shoulders were wide, his arms strong. Suddenly she was filled with an ache to feel them around her. She wanted to be dessert.
As if Shane could read her thoughts, his mouth inched toward hers and again time stood still.
Until it didn’t.
One second passed with him just standing there, then two before he backed away even though the expression in his eyes hadn’t changed. “It’s getting late. I should probably see you to your car.”
Gianna blinked up at him wondering what just happened. She wasn’t so out of practice that she didn’t know when a man was going to kiss her, and Shane had been about to do that. Something had changed his mind, but darned if she knew what it was. But clearly she’d been dismissed for unknown reasons.
“It is getting late. I’ll just get my coat.”
Shane got her things, and if the atmosphere at the restaurant was as awkward as the walk down to where she’d parked her wreck of a car, work was going to be even less fun than being one waitress short while feeding the Swiss delegation.
Chapter Two
Three days later Gianna was stewing in The Gallatin Room kitchen, which was ironically appropriate. It had been three nights since Shane had made dinner for her at his place. Three nights of seeing him at the restaurant where they both worked and he hadn’t said a word to her—not about work, not even about things other than work. Even a hello, how are you, wasn’t in his repertoire. In fact he was going out of his way to ignore her and she didn’t understand why.
She also didn’t have time to think about it. Waitresses were hurrying in and out of the kitchen with orders and busboys handled trays of dirty dishes, utensils and glassware. It was busy and noisy and she was putting together a basket of bread for the order she’d just taken. Shane stood by the stove concentrating on sautéing seafood over a hot flame. She stared at his back and felt like a lovelorn idiot, but she couldn’t help it. When he was in a room her gaze automatically searched him out.
He, on the other hand, didn’t even look at her when he wasn’t cooking. Disappointment trickled through her and she felt incredibly stupid. Maybe she’d been hoping the third time was the charm—or third day post dinner he would finally break his silence.
No such luck.
Bonnie Reid pushed through the swinging doors separating the kitchen areas from the dining room. Her friend did break the silence.
“Wow, it’s busy in there tonight, G.”
“Tell me about it.”
Gianna rested her hip against the stainless-steel worktable. She’d become good friends with the other waitress, a petite brunette with a pixie haircut and big brown eyes. They’d both been hired at about the same time and bonded over the good, the bad and the awe of their celebrity boss. The other night she’d thought he actually was awesome, but now? Not so much.
“I’m very glad you’re over your cold and back to work.” Gianna dragged her gaze away from Shane and looked at her friend.
There was sympathy in those brown eyes. “If I hadn’t been too sick to crawl out of bed, I’d have been here. It must have been awful by yourself, serving that big party of Swiss businessmen.”
“I managed.” And now she heard Shane’s voice in her head, telling her she always did. The words still made her glow, but she was doing her best to get over it.
“I hated leaving you shorthanded. You must have run your legs off.”
Gianna looked down. “Nope. Still there. Cellulite, the extra two and a half pounds on each thigh and all.”
“Yeah. Right.” Bonnie grinned. “You’re fit and fine, my friend.”
“Not that anyone would notice.” She glanced at Shane who still had his back to her.
“Did something happen while I was out sick?” Bonnie’s tone was sharp with curiosity, but fortunately their boss was too far away to hear in the noisy kitchen. “What did I miss?”
“Nothing.” That was the very sad truth, Gianna thought.
“I’m getting a vibe, G.” Her friend glanced at Shane, then back. “Did Roarke the magnificent do something? Say something?”
“Said something, did absolutely nothing.” Darn him. Gianna picked up the silver basket in which she’d artfully arranged a variety of herb-covered rolls and cheese cracker bread, then started to walk back to the dining room.
“Uh-uh. Not so fast.” Bonnie shook her head. “You can’t drop a cryptic comment like that and not elaborate. It violates every rule of friendship and is just wrong on so many levels.”
“Really, nothing happened. I guess I just got the signals wrong. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“You’re trying to deflect me. Even if this is about all the time you wasted on too many men who have an allergy to commitment, it’s not going to work. Did Roarke make a move on you?” Bonnie’s eyes filled with indignant anger and she looked a little dangerous.
“Nothing like that.” Gianna pulled her farther around the corner to make sure they couldn’t be overheard even with the sizzle of cooking and banging of utensils. “We had a moment.”
“What kind of moment?”
“When you called in sick I missed the staff dinner then did double duty and was starved at the end of my shift. I thought everyone had left and came in here to grab something to eat. Shane wasn’t gone.”
“You were alone with him? Did he try something?”
If only … “No. He made me food and gave me wine.”
“To lower your resistance? I’ll take him apart—”
“Stand down.” Gianna couldn’t help smiling at the thought of her tiny friend taking on tall, muscular, masculine Shane Roarke. “He asked me to dinner on Monday, at his place.”
“How was it? His place, I mean. I’ve got more questions, but first things first.”
“All I can say is rich people really are different.”
“That good, huh?”
“The artwork. Furniture. Spacious floor plan and high ceilings. The lighting.” She sighed at the memory. “And don’t even get me started on the view.”
“So he caught you in his web, or lair, or whatever, then pounced?” The fierce look was back.
“That’s just it. He took me out on the balcony to show me the view of the mountains, the valley getting ready for Christmas. There was a moon and stars and lights stretching across said valley.”
“Romantic with a capital R.”
“Romantic with every letter capitalized and the whole word italicized.” She sighed. “I was sure he was leaning in for a kiss and then—”
“What?”
“Nothing. He all but told me to go home, except he did it in his Roarke-like way. ‘I’ll see you to your car,’“ she quoted.
“Bastard.” Bonnie shook her head. “Gentleman bastard.”
“I know.” Gianna peeked at him again, busily sautéing something. “That was Monday night and he hasn’t acknowledged me here at work