A Marriage Between Friends. Melinda Curtis

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СКАЧАТЬ family made a deal with yours. It’s been quite profitable.” Vince glared at Jill. They hadn’t signed a prenuptial agreement.

      “How dare you imply—”

      “How dare you leave me!” Vince lost the struggle with his temper. “You got what you wanted—a name to legitimize Teddy—and I’ve let you keep it all these years, no questions asked. Well, now you can damn well answer a few of them.”

      CHAPTER THREE

      “PLEASE DON’T YELL.” Jill felt Vince’s anger pulse over her. She hadn’t realized how much she’d hurt him back then.

      And yet she couldn’t tell him the real reason she’d left, because Vince was nothing like the memory of the man she’d carried with her all these years. He wasn’t patient. He wasn’t kind. He didn’t…

      He’d never understand, and she’d had enough dreams shattered for one day.

      Ignoring the way the cool air had her shivering, Jill turned her back on Vince and picked up Teddy’s paintbrush. There were two more boards to paint.

      “I’m sorry,” Vince said after several seconds sounding anything but. He sighed.

      Jill tried to ignore him. First thing tomorrow she’d spray-paint two powerful words on all of the signs. By the afternoon she’d have them up all over town and then she could make the guest beds, hang the linens and stock the rooms with toiletries in preparation for a new group of clients checking in Sunday afternoon.

      And Vince—both the real and her fantasy version—would most likely be gone.

      A pang of loneliness settled in her bones.

      Of course, it could have been the cold. It was quite nippy now.

      Vince’s Italian loafers moved closer as Jill splashed a curve of purple jerkily across the board. But Vince said nothing, and then his feet disappeared. A car door opened and closed.

      Jill’s shoulders sagged. The Vince she’d fashioned over the years wouldn’t have let the conversation end, wouldn’t have left. He’d have stayed and faced the situation head-on.

      “What kind of crazy stuff are they assigning school-kids nowadays?” Vince crouched next to Jill and picked up the other paintbrush. He’d taken off his expensive jacket and tucked his tie in the placket of his shirt.

      “It’s…um…crazy.” Jill repressed the urge to smile. If the man didn’t have enough sense to leave she wasn’t going to tell him he was helping the opposition. Smooth and graceful, his line of green more closely resembled Teddy’s style than hers. It was only guilt that made her admit, “You’re good with a brush.”

      Vince flashed her the smile he’d given the tribal council.

      “But this isn’t rocket science, so I’m not impressed.” Jill went back to her own stiff lines as the wind rustled through the branches above them. The storm that was supposed to pass through during the night was building. The road to Mokelumne was tricky enough in daylight. Add darkness and rain and it was dangerous. “You’re not Monet. You can paint faster.”

      “I don’t think Teddy would appreciate something just thrown together.”

      “You’d be surprised.”

      A faint roll of thunder sounded in the distance. The boards were on the east side of the garage sheltered by an overhang. They’d be protected tonight. If Vince didn’t leave soon, Jill wouldn’t be.

      “Switch brushes.” Jill dipped her brush in purple and handed the dripping mess to him.

      Vince was more meticulous in his pass-off. The green didn’t so much as dribble off the brush when he gave it to her, reminding Jill how graceful he was. She’d always struggled to be the polished sophisticate, while he could carry off class in worn jeans and a T-shirt. He was probably an accomplished lover, too.

      “You’re smearing the paint,” Vince pointed out. “You’ve got a big black blotch where the green and purple mix. Why don’t you turn that one over and start again?”

      It was on the tip of Jill’s tongue to tell Vince the blotches didn’t matter. By tomorrow there’d be something covering up her sloppy work. “This will do.”

      “Here. I’ll fix it.” Vince edged closer, reaching his arms in front of her so that he could pick up her board. Long arms, long fingers, long—

      “It’s fine.” That self-preservation kicked in again. No longer cold, Jill elbowed Vince back into his own space, sending a glob of green paint flying onto one of his fine Italian-leather shoes. She snatched up a scrap of newspaper and tried to wipe the goop off, but the paint had already soaked into the leather, leaving a dime-size mark.

      “I’m sorry. I’m always such a klutz.”

      “Some things never change.” Vince laughed, a rich sound that seeped into Jill’s system and made her want to relax until she looked in his dark eyes and saw the same lure of heat that had made her heart pound when she was a teenager. Now her heart nearly stopped. Was she destined to be simultaneously intimidated and drawn to Vince?

      As if sensing her confusion, Vince let his laughter fade away. His gaze trapped hers.

      Thunder grumbled in the distance.

      “You say that like it’s a good thing.” Turning away, Jill slapped paint on the last bare corners of her board. The wind had picked up, quivering the tree limbs overhead. “It’s getting late. You need to go before the storm comes.”

      WHAT HAPPENED HERE?

      One minute Vince was convinced Jill was out to fleece him and the next she had him eating out of her hand, only to send him away as if she hadn’t noticed the sparks between them. Which, considering their past, shouldn’t surprise him.

      Vince had driven out to Shady Oak for some answers and had come up empty. Jill had ignored his demands to know why she’d left and he’d forgotten—forgotten—to ask her why she wasn’t going to support the casino. Frustration burned beneath his skin, and the pent-up energy demanded release.

      Vince fired up the Porsche, toying with the idea of gunning it down the driveway as if he were a broken-hearted teenager. Maturity won out only because the gravel would pepper his fenders. Instead, Vince backed out quickly and took off with just a bit more gas than was wise.

      The sky ignited with lightning, and thunder bellowed so close it shook the car.

      His headlights picked up a smoking pink housecoat.

      Vince slammed on the brakes. He’d almost taken out an old woman in curlers walking her poofy, volleyball-size, white dog. And indulging in a pipe.

      The thunder faded away.

      Vince’s heart started beating again. He turned off the engine, left the lights on and hopped out into the windy night. “Sorry about that. Are you okay?”

      Silver curlers glinted in the car’s beams. The old woman drew the pipe slowly from her mouth. “I nearly peed my pants. Think Moonbeam piddled herself. How ’bout СКАЧАТЬ