Deception. Donna Hill

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СКАЧАТЬ temper rolled to the surface as she stood on the windy corner to hail a taxi. She waved her hand at an oncoming cab. As it approached, the cab’s dome light flashed the off-duty sign.

      Terri went livid, wanting to scream and cry all at the same time. That was the final insult of the day. She really didn’t know how much more she could—

      “You weren’t going to wait?”

      Clint’s voice seemed to massage her spine and unlock the tension that had gripped her. She turned toward the sound of his voice and looked up at him, the anxiety and frustration of the day brimming in her brown eyes. How easy it would be to just walk into his arms and let him soothe the aches away.

      She remained immobile.

      Something in the way she looked at him touched a hidden corner of his heart. He reached out and placed his large hands on her shoulders. “Terri, what’s wrong?” Concern softened his voice. “You look like you’ve been crying.”

      Terri blinked and swallowed back the lump in her throat. “It’s just the wind,” she answered with a calmness that surprised her.

      “I got stuck in traffic,” he said by way of apology.

      “Oh.”

      Why did he suddenly feel like a little boy having to explain his misbehavior? The awkward feeling left him unnerved. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “Can I at least give you a lift?”

      She gave him a half smile and shrugged her right shoulder. “You could drop me off at my apartment. If you don’t mind.”

      “No problem. My car is over—” He looked across the busy intersection to see a traffic cop sticking a ticket on his windshield.

      “Hey!” he yelled as he immediately darted through traffic to the other side of the street. He snatched the ticket from the window, intent on making the offender eat it.

      Clint strode over to the “brownie,” as they were dubbed by New Yorkers for their brown uniforms, and shook the ticket in his face.

      “Listen, buddy,” Clint hissed, interrupting the officer from writing another ticket. “I was there for only a minute. What’s the deal with this ticket?” He checked his watch. “It’s five after seven. I can legally park here.”

      “Not by my watch,” the brownie said, dismissing Clint.

      “Your watch is wrong!” Clint stalked the officer as he moved to the next car.

      “If you think so, then take it to court.”

      The officer walked away, leaving Clint to throw daggers at his back.

      Terri gingerly eased alongside of an irate Clint, fighting hard to stifle the giggles that bubbled in her throat. This was the first time that she had truly seen the cool, controlled Clint totally bent out of shape. Her only regret was that she didn’t have a camera.

      “How much is it?” she asked in a tiny voice.

      “Fifty damn dollars!” he spat, slamming his palm against the hood of the Benz. He looked at the ticket in disbelief, then across at Terri, whose face was contorting in silent hilarity.

      “Go ahead—laugh,” he said, his own anger giving way to the ridiculousness of it all. A reluctant grin lifted one side of his mouth.

      Finally, through tears and giggles, she pointed a finger at him, the laughter still bubbling over. “You should have seen the look on your face,” she said.

      “You think this is all very amusing, don’t you?” he said, trying to sound threatening.

      Terri wiped her eyes and took several deep breaths. “Actually I do. I mean, let’s face it, you can afford it.”

      “Now that makes me feel a helluva lot better.”

      “Well,” Terri offered, pulling herself together, “I guess the least I could do is treat you to dinner. After all, if you hadn’t come to see me, none of this—” she covered her budding smile with a gloved hand “—would have happened.”

      “You know what?” He looked at her hard and braced her shoulders. “I’m gonna take you up on your offer.”

      After a delicious meal in Chinatown, punctuated by con genial conversation, Clint drove Terri to her apartment building. The plush luxury of the Benz was like a soothing balm to her tense body. Slowly she began to relax, her voice a mere whisper when she spoke.

      “I’ve always wanted to learn to drive a stick shift,” she said dreamily, “but it’s such a hassle with the stop-and-go Manhattan traffic.”

      “I know what you mean.” He switched into Second gear. “But after living in England and driving on the open road, it became second nature to me. I love the feel of power,” he added, tossing her a searing look as he held on to the stick.

      “I didn’t know you lived in England.”

      “Yeah, for a while,” he said, wishing that he’d never mentioned that part of his life. Just the idea of her saying she wanted to learn to drive a standard drove the knife of guilt through his gut, painfully reminding him of his daughter, whom he’d left behind in the care of his sister-in-law, because he’d caused her mother’s—his wife’s—death.

      “You’ll have to tell me about it sometime.”

      “Hmm.”

      Terri looked at him from the corner of her eye, in time to see the hard, dark expression that passed across his face. She decided not to probe and leaned back against the leather cushion of the headrest. Maybe some other time.

      Where had all of the tension gone? As much as she was reluctant to admit it, she enjoyed being in Clint’s company. He made her laugh, he lightened her spirit. He was intelligent and witty, and he was undeniably sexy. Clint made her feel things that she hadn’t felt in so long. Only this time it was more powerful, more compelling. And she wanted it.

      “What are you thinking about?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts as he made the turn onto her street.

      If she could have turned red, she would have been crimson. She felt certain that he could read her thoughts, and she felt suddenly exposed.

      “Oh, just about some things at the office.”

      “You never did tell me what was bothering you.” He pulled up in front of her door.

      She looked at him, her voice softening. “It doesn’t really matter now.”

      “If it affects you, Terri, then it matters.”

      She fumbled with her purse. “It’s getting late. I—”

      He reached for her, turning her to face him. “You keep running from me.”

      His voice wrapped around her.

      “Every time we get close, you run from me like a scared little girl.”

      He gently stroked her face.

      She СКАЧАТЬ