“You don’t want to mess with Mason Fletcher,” Lucy quoted softly.
“Right. Just so you know, the Colfaxes as a clan are said to have been both horrified and furious when they found out that Mary left her shares to Sara and that those shares are now in your hands. You do know there’s a major merger or acquisition deal in the works, don’t you?”
“I’ve heard that,” Lucy said. “I think I like the twilight dress. I’ll need a wrap to go with it, and shoes, of course.”
“Maybe you should accessorize with a pistol and a holster,” Teresa said. “You and Mason might as well be walking to the gunfight at the O.K. Corral.”
“Not to worry, I’ll be wearing wine-country casual.”
13
This isn’t a date.
Mason stood at the foot of the inn’s staircase and watched Lucy come down to meet him. Silently, he repeated the litany he had been saying to himself all day. This isn’t a date. You’re taking her to the reception because you can’t talk her out of going and you can’t let her walk into that gladiator ring alone. This isn’t a date.
But it sure as hell felt like a date, the second one he’d had with Lucy. A prowling anticipation had heated his blood all day. Night could not come too soon. And now it was here and he was here, waiting for Lucy.
She seemed to float down the stairs in a little dress that stopped just above her knees. The neckline was modest. The very short sleeves showed off her nicely rounded arms. A narrow belt defined her small waist. She wore cute little wedge sandals and a tiny cross-body purse that looked barely large enough to hold a cell phone and a credit card. Her jewelry consisted of a pair of dainty gold earrings and a small bracelet composed of gold links. She carried a white shawl over her arm. There was nothing flashy or showy about the outfit, but somehow it all went together to give her an aura of cool, feminine confidence.
“Yeah, that works,” Mason said. He smiled.
“Thanks.” Lucy did a little pirouette. “I had help from Teresa Vega at Teresa’s Closet. She used to be Teresa Alvarez. Remember her?”
“Sure. Nice kid. Glasses. Always wore weird clothes like work boots and long black dresses.”
“That was her Goth phase. She’s over that now.”
“Probably just as well. Hard to picture a combination of Goth and wine-country casual.”
Lucy laughed and started briskly toward the door. “We can take my car.” She reached into the tiny purse and produced her keys.
He caught up with her, managed to wrap his fingers around her arm and deliberately applied the brakes, forcing her to stop in the middle of the lobby.
“Thanks for the offer,” he said. “But since I’ll be driving, we’ll take my vehicle.”
She blinked, but she did not argue. He opened the door and steered her out into the summer evening. The anticipation that had been riding him hard all day was suddenly infused with a deep knowing. This was exactly where he wanted to be tonight—with this woman.
He popped the locks on the sleek black car sitting in front of the entrance.
Lucy looked at him, not bothering to conceal her amusement.
“You mean we’re not taking the truck?” she asked.
“Not tonight. Some other time, maybe.”
“Nice car,” she said. Genuine appreciation edged the words. “Security consulting must pay well.”
“One thing about the crime business—it’s steady.”
“This isn’t a rental, and Fletcher Consulting is located back in D.C. Don’t tell me you drove all the way across the country.”
“You’re good at this detecting thing. Yes, I drove across the country. I wanted some downtime to do some thinking. Those long stretches on the interstate are a good place for that.”
She shot him a quick, curious glance, but she did not ask any more questions.
He opened the door on the passenger side and watched her slip into the front seat. Everything inside him stirred. What was it about women in little summer dresses? Scratch that. What was it about Lucy in a summer dress?
What was it about Lucy?
Oh, shit. I’ve got it bad.
And he didn’t give a damn, he realized. A man did not get a lot of evenings like this one in his lifetime. It was a real shame that he was going to have to waste a chunk of it at a party watching over Lucy while she played detective. Unfortunately, she was playing with fire.
So was he.
He made an effort to tamp down the heat and closed the door very firmly. He walked around to the driver’s side and got behind the wheel.
“What did you think about during your long drive from D.C.?” she asked.
“Stuff.” He fired up the engine and reversed out of the parking slot.
He heard Lucy’s phone chirp. He breathed a small sigh of relief, grateful for the interruption. He had a feeling that once Lucy got on a man’s case and started asking questions she wouldn’t let go easily.
She took the device out of the tiny purse and checked the screen. She inserted the phone back into the small bag.
“It’s just the agency,” she said.
“Brookhouse Research?”
“No, the online matchmaking agency. They notify me whenever their computers kick out a possible match.”
Suddenly, he was no longer feeling so grateful for the interruption.
“Is that so?” He realized he was speaking between set teeth. “Get a lot of notifications?”
“That’s my second one today.”
He willed himself to remain calm.
“No luck?” he asked.
“So far nothing has clicked.”
“Oh, yeah, the commitment-issues thing.”
“Yes. But my profile looks good. Single, reasonably well educated, never married, no kids to support, good job, excellent health. The good job has been a big asset for me, by the way.”
“Is that so?”
“They say that women prefer men who make a lot of money. But it turns out the reverse is true, too. You’d be amazed by the number of men who are looking for wives who make high salaries.”
Time to change the subject.
“Do we have a plan for this evening?” he asked.
“Not exactly.” Lucy glanced at him. “I consider this party to be an intelligence-gathering mission.”
“Intelligence is not the first word that comes to my mind. By all accounts, the Colfaxes bear a striking resemblance to a nest of snakes. If we had any sense we would steer clear.”
“Look at it this way,” Lucy said. “It’s an opportunity to gather additional information on the family dynamics of the Colfax clan.”