Chapter 2
Regina figured that if she had to smile and pose for one more cosmetic, she was going to kill herself, or listen to that pompous ass of a director tell her what to do, she would very well slit her wrists with a dull razor.
“You’re late.”
“Why don’t you kiss my very shapely ass.”
Dylan tucked his tongue in his cheek and waited for her to plop down across from him.
“Seeing as I’m your brother, I don’t think that would be appropriate. You do realize that my time is precious, don’t you?”
“So’s mine.”
He watched her mood change in the usual lightning swift way as the besotted waiter came hurrying forward.
“Ms. Graham,” the man simply gushed. “Are you having the usual?”
“Darling, you know me so well. Add a little more rum to it, will you? I’m in a foul mood.”
The man practically bowed, his face flushed as she flashed him a smile. “And a basket of your favorite breadsticks.”
“Darling, you’re too good to me.”
“You deserve it.” Hardly sparing Dylan a glance, he rushed off to do her bidding.
“I’m surprised he did not melt into a puddle at your feet. Why the hell do you do that crap?”
“What crap?” Stealing his drink, she took a sip and grimaced.
“The flirting.”
“It comes naturally,” she told him with a smile.
Shaking his head, Dylan studied her outrageously beautiful face. She wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup.
He knew she had come straight from a photoshoot and had taken the time to cream off her skin. Her cocoa brown complexion was smooth and flawless.
Her face was narrow, the chin stubborn, the mahogany eyes large and heavily lashed. Her locks were neat and loose around her shoulders, almost reaching her waist, the ends dipped in gold.
They were siblings who shared the same father and different mothers. Despite that, or perhaps because of it, they were very close and had both inherited their father’s stunning good looks.
He was thirty-five and she was twenty-eight. The resentment at having a stepmother thrust on him when he was just a child had disappeared when he became a big brother.
He was protective of her and that never changed over the years. He was always looking out for her.
“You look tired.”
She cast him a glance and waited until the waiter had placed her order in front of her.
“The linguine is delicious,” the man told her, hovering at the table, his dark eyes worshipful.
“Then that’s what we’re having.”
“The shrimp for me,” Dylan said curtly, dismissing the man with a wave of his hand.
“That was very rude.”
“He was being a nuisance.”
“You’re just jealous because I was getting all the attention.”
“Yeah.” He nodded.
“That’s what it was.”
“I quit modeling.”
He moved his shoulders in a shrug. “I’ve heard that before.”
“This time I mean it.” She sipped her pina colada and appreciated how Andre had seen to it about the extra rum.
“I feel as if I’m dying.”
His concern came immediately. Reaching for her hand, he linked their fingers.
“You’re still bent on opening that modeling agency.”
She nodded.
“The bank is being diplomatic and taking me through the hoops. God! I hate bankers. They say a lot of things without saying anything at all.”
“I told you I have some money saved up-”
“Which I’m not going to accept,” she told him firmly. He had offered it before and she had been tempted.
But she knew he wanted to retire from the police force when he turned fifty. She had no intention of ruining that for him.
“I’ll find a way out. I’ll meet a wealthy man who wants to lavish me with several million dollars.”
“What about that... that trust-fund idiot?”
“Wayne?” She nibbled on a breadstick and smiled.
“He turned out to be a mama’s boy. Pity, he would have suited me just fine. But then he had to get approval from her for everything, and she took an instant dislike to me. She said I was too loud and had no class.”
“Imagine that.” He grinned at the dirty look she aimed at him.
“You’re better off without him. I didn’t like him at all. Too eager to please.”
“You’re right of course.” She sighed.
Picking up her drink, she took an appreciative sip. “Something will work out.”
“I believe that it will.” He paused, waiting for their food to be placed in front of them.
This time the waiter took one look at Dylan and scurried away.
“You do that so well.”
“I’ve been practicing,” he told her easily. He saw no other way and just plunged right in.
“Dad called me.”
She tensed and braced for the worst.
“What kind of trouble is he in now?”
“He’s getting married again.”
“What number is it now? Five?”
“Six.” Dylan’s lips tightened.
The man had messed them up so much, he wondered if they were ever going to have faith in the institution of marriage. Here he was, thirty-five and still single.
The last relationship he had ended just months ago. And he knew it was mostly his fault.
Sherry had accused him of being emotionally unavailable, and he had to agree with her. As bad as he had it, Regina had it even worse.
Douglas Graham had been charming and distant and never had time for his only daughter. The man had his son to prove his manhood and carry on his name; a daughter had been an inconvenience.
Dylan had been heartbroken when he left Regina’s mother after sticking around for five years.
“How young is this one?” Regina told herself she had gotten over the fact that her father had not wanted her.
Her mother had loved her enough for her to be confident in that affection. But there had been times when she was growing up when his rejection had scarred her to the bone.
Now she accepted it and had moved on with her life. He never called her and she afforded him the same courtesy, by not calling him either.
“Thirty,” Dylan told her grimly.
“Well.” She drank her pina colada and studied the couple two tables over.
The man was very attentive, touching his companion’s hand frequently. The woman was basking in all that attention.
She found herself wondering briefly what it was like to have that kind of attachment. Mentally shrugging the feeling away, she dug into her pasta.
“At least she’s a bit older than me.”
“And younger than me.”
“There’s that.” She glanced at him curiously.
“Will you be attending?”
“I stopped doing so after the fourth one.” Reaching across the table, he touched her smooth cheek in shared sympathy.
“He’s not capable of loving anyone.”
Regina nodded. “I told myself that a long time ago.”
She shrugged slim shoulders. “It doesn’t make it easier to hear.”
“No, it doesn’t,” he concurred.
*****
To say she was surprised to get the call would be putting it mildly. Craig Muldoon was a blast from the past.
It had been tumultuous, what one would call a fiery, passionate interlude that had burned itself out after a few months. She could look back on that time with some regret because she had really cared about him.
But she had been unable to make a commitment then and he had wanted one.
She was scoping out the building she was bent on acquiring when she got the call. It was still available and she had the feeling it was waiting on her.
She was hopeful enough to believe it.
“Hello?” she answered as soon as she dug the phone out of her oversized purse.
“Hi.”
The deep voice sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place it.
“Hi, yourself. Who’s this?”
“Should I be offended?” The amusement was there and the recognition came instantly.
“Craig Muldoon! As I live and breathe.”
Sitting on the stone wall of the sprouting fountain in the middle of the town center, she eased off her sandals and simply relaxed her toes. She had been walking for what seemed like ages, just walking and thinking about her future and what the hell to do about it.
“How’re you?”
“I’ve been better.” He could just visualize her spectacular body encased in some scandalous outfit.
“What about you?”
“On top of the world,” she told him with a quick laugh. Lifting her face, she squinted at the sun and absorbed its rays.
It was going to be another simmering day.
“Are you back in the states? Last I heard you were in Mexico or Morocco or something like that.”
“Keeping tabs on me?” The amusement deepened.
“I love the gossip rags as much as anyone else. What’s up?”
His tone changed abruptly. He had thought long and hard and told himself this was not going away, and he had a deadline.
“Can you meet me for lunch?”
Her tapered brows lifted. “When?”
“Tomorrow. I know it’s short notice and you have things to do-”
“Tomorrow is fine. Maisel. It’s a charming-”
“I know the place. Say noon?”
“Fine.”
“All right. I’ll see you then.”
On his end, Craig hung up the phone and brooded over his coffee. He was in his suite and had refused to go down to breakfast.
He wasn’t in the mood to play nice with the old man. Millicent had, of course, brought him up a meal.
Rising, he went to the window, coffee cup in hand and a brooding expression on his face. His suite faced the east side of the estate, where flowers rioted, a vivid splash of colors against the natural rocks that sprouted water into the pool.
He had yet to relax enough to take a dip. From where he stood, he could see the barns housing the horses and the tennis court.
A pergola, faded with age, overlooked the stream where he had played as a child. Rolling hills, eye-searingly green despite the intense heat, were a pleasure to the eyes.
He had explored the several hundred acres when he lived there and found niches and crevices where a boy could pretend to play cowboys and Indians. Taking a sip of his now lukewarm coffee, he contemplated the best approach to use on her.
Regina was outrageously blunt and unfailingly materialistic. His mouth twisted cynically as he recalled their brief affair.
She had told him frankly that she wasn’t looking for permanency. She wanted a fun time and all the gifts he could heap on her.
When he told her he had walked away from his inheritance, the passion had cooled. It had ended when he asked her to move in with him.
She had just laughed and patted his cheek.
“Not a chance in hell.”
Now he was looking to ask her to do him the biggest favor. But it involved money and he was almost certain she would go for it.