Intimate Enemy. Marilyn Pappano

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СКАЧАТЬ jeans, also spattered. A snug-fitting T-shirt with a coat of chalky dust overlaying its crimson hue.

      And a world-class scowl.

      The muscles in her neck knotted and her jaw clamped together hard. This wasn’t fair. No more surprise sightings. No more sightings at all if he was going to look at her as if she were something nasty in need of squishing.

      Russ rested one hand on the back of her chair and bent closer. “I thought I saw blood oozing from the brick.” Uninvited, he sat down in the chair to her left.

      She forced a smile. “Watch it, or I might turn the sky dark, too.”

      Coincidentally, the sun disappeared behind a cloud, shadow falling over the garden. She resisted the urge to laugh at the timing. He clearly felt no such urge.

      “Have you dragged my brother into something he can’t handle?”

      Jamie kept her gaze even, unflinching. Russ didn’t even make the list of people Robbie might have discussed her admirer-stalker with. He and Jamie occupied distinctly separate areas of Robbie’s life. If he’d tattled to anyone, it would have been Tommy Maricci or his cop brothers.

      “Offhand, I can’t think of anything Robbie can’t handle.” Then she slyly asked, “We are talking about Robbie, aren’t we? You’re not accusing me of impropriety with Rick or Mitch, are you?”

      His response was a snort, but it said enough. His older brothers wouldn’t be interested. She wasn’t pretty enough, sexy enough, to tempt them away from their wives, but no woman was. Fidelity might not have meant much to all Calloways—J. D. Stinson came to mind—but it was important to these four brothers.

      And Melinda had taken such pleasure in publicly airing all the dirty details of her extramarital affairs. A broken heart, wounded pride and a bruised ego—Russ had hit the trifecta.

      “What’s going on?” His voice was deep, tautly controlled, a lot like Robbie’s, except she could count the number of times she’d heard anger in Robbie’s voice on one hand. It was all she’d heard from Russ for three years.

      “Maybe you should ask him.”

      “I did. All he would say was that someone he knows is in trouble.”

      “And you automatically assume it’s me?”

      “Who else is as deserving?”

      Her first inclination was to ignore the tiny ache in her chest. As her number was called over the intercom, she decided to go with her second. Rising, she put one hand on the back of his chair, leaned close enough to smell sunshine, sweat and dust and softly said, “Bite me, Russ.”

      She made it halfway to the hall that led to the main dining room before he caught up with her. “If something’s going on, leave Robbie the hell out of it.”

      She didn’t slow her pace. “Robbie’s a big boy. He can make decisions for himself.”

      “I’m not kidding.”

      She gave the girl behind the counter a tight smile as she claimed the trays that held her and Lys’s lunches, then faced him again. “Give it up, Russ. I’ve been threatened by people way scarier than you. If you have enough energy to worry about someone’s life, make it your own. You’re way more screwed up than Robbie will ever be.”

      “You don’t know what the hell—”

      The bell over the door dinged, announcing a new arrival. Russ looked that way, and so did Jamie. Lys’s gaze locked on them, and she charged forward like an overprotective bulldog in puppy’s clothing.

      Jamie shoved Lys’s tray into her hands, then bared her teeth at Russ in a parody of a smile. “It’s been fun talking to you. What do you say we wait another three years to do it again?”

      Color stained his dark skin crimson, and his gaze turned stormy. She didn’t wait to hear what he might say, but took Lys’s arm and steered her toward the back. It wasn’t until they’d turned the corner into the glassed-in porch that Lys spoke.

      “Good show. Now would you please let go of my arm so the blood can start flowing again?”

      Contritely Jamie did so. “I’m sorry. It’s just…”

      “I know. It’s just Russ.”

      He’d been the reason for a lot of emotions in her life—happiness, giddiness, need, desire, lust, satisfaction, affection, love, anger, betrayal, headache, heartache and every other kind of ache. He’d been the best part of her life for a time, and the worst.

      One of these days, he wasn’t going to be any part. She promised herself that.

      Just as soon as she figured out how to perform magic.

       Chapter 3

      In less than a day and a half, three people had offered criticism of Russ’s life. He hadn’t asked for advice, hadn’t given a clue that he was open to suggestions, so why the hell couldn’t they keep their opinions to themselves?

      And after three years of pretty decent avoidance, why the hell did he have to keep running into Jamie?

      “Because God doesn’t like you,” he muttered as he walked into the kitchen.

      It was after eight o’clock. The sun had set, darkness had settled in, and he was still on the job. The day had turned into the day from hell—too many appointments, too much work, too little time—and his run-in with Jamie at lunch had only made it worse. He’d walked out of the deli with a pounding headache, and the aspirin tablets he’d taken were eating a hole in his stomach. He should have gotten something to eat before the last dose, but anything he ate right now would just aggravate the burning in his gut.

      But this Walton Way job was his last stop, and then he was heading home. A night’s sleep would make everything better—and no matter what else was going on in his life, he always slept like a baby. He was lucky that way.

      The work on this remodel was slow going. The house was old, and they kept running into unforeseen problems, like wiring that wasn’t up to code and pipes that had to be replaced. Another few weeks, and he could scratch this one off his list.

      Another few weeks, and he wouldn’t have to come back into Jamie’s neighborhood until someone else hired him.

      He shouldn’t have spoken to her at the deli. He should have just walked past as if she were a total stranger. She was right: Robbie was grown. He didn’t always make the smartest decisions—his continued friendship with Jamie proved that—but he was old enough to face the consequences.

      The next time Russ saw her, he would ignore her. He didn’t want anything to do with her; she didn’t want anything to do with him. Simple solution. They would act like strangers, and before long they would really be strangers.

      He finished his walk-through of the house, then let himself out the front door, yawning as he locked the deadbolt. The homeowners were staying with the husband’s parents during the remodel, and the wife called every other day wanting to know when she could move home again. Russ, his secretary, his subs and everyone on his crew who’d СКАЧАТЬ