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According to Aunt Betty, not too many women followed Georgie around Portland. Obviously he still had trouble in that department. Too bad his reserved nature hadn’t expanded along with his muscles.
“Is this your car?” she exclaimed, as he unlocked the trunk of a sleek blue Lexus. “Wow, I’m impressed.”
“Thank you.”
He opened the door for her and she slid onto the soft, smooth seat. The inside smelled faintly masculine—a mixture of leather and spicy cologne.
“Nice car,” she commented, hoping to get some reaction out of him. “Must have cost a bomb.”
“It did.” George patted the steering wheel with a proprietary air. “It was worth every penny.”
Well, it was obvious where his priorities lay. “Super!” she said, and sat back to enjoy the ride.
George sat by her side, his back as straight and stiff as a telephone pole as he maneuvered the car through the intricate maze of downtown streets. Amy kept up a stream of chatter, hoping to break through his faintly disapproving air.
She watched, fascinated, as they passed by tall high-rises, neat city parks, fancy hotels, quaint sidewalk cafés and interesting-looking stores. She just couldn’t wait to explore her new home, and bombarded George with questions about the city.
After a long period of receiving little more than noncommittal grunts in response to her comments, she glanced sideways at her host. He seemed upset by something. “I hope I’m not stopping you from doing something important,” she said tentatively. “I’m sure you’d rather be with your girlfriend.”
He sent her a startled glance. “What? Oh, no. I don’t have a girlfriend.”
She already knew that. George’s lack of women friends seemed to be Aunt Betty’s greatest disappointment in life. Still, she’d succeeded in getting his attention. “Why don’t you?”
His jaw clenched slightly. “Why don’t I what?”
“Have a girlfriend.”
She waited quite a while for his answer.
“Not that it’s any of your business, of course, but since my mother immediately jumps to the wrong conclusion on the subject, I’ll satisfy your inappropriate curiosity enough to say that I don’t have a girlfriend at this present time. I believe the expression is that I’m between relationships.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “You don’t have to be so defensive about it. I was just wondering, that’s all.”
“You were wondering if I’m gay.”
The idea hadn’t even occurred to her. She was awfully happy to know he wasn’t, though. “Not at all. I was just wondering why someone like you didn’t have hordes of women panting after you.”
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
She rather liked the way one of his eyebrows twitched. “Take it how you like.” Deciding it was time she changed the subject she leaned back in her seat. “Tell me all about River Park West. What’s it like there? Are there lots of singles? Do they have a rec room?”
“Fine, yes and yes.” He pulled up at yet another stoplight.
She watched his hands on the wheel—capable hands, with strong, square-cut nails. Everything about him seemed capable. And too controlled. She wondered just what it would take to penetrate those formidable defenses. “Swimming pool?” she prompted.
“There’s a swimming pool, yes.”
Just when she thought he wasn’t going to say anything else, he added, “And a gym.” The light turned green and he pulled forward.
“Ah!” Amy exclaimed. “So that’s where you get those muscles.”
His head jerked around as if he’d been stung. “Huh?”
She grinned at him. “You handled those cases like a WWF wrestler.”
He looked back at the road, but she could tell by his profile that she’d unsettled him. Terrific. It would do him good to get rattled now and again. No wonder he didn’t have girlfriends. He needed to lighten up if he wanted to get some fun out of life.
She tried to imagine the kind of woman Georgie would be interested in. Someone dark and mysterious, and at least four inches taller than her five-foot-four. Her complete opposite, in other words. Which was just as well, under the circumstances. Someone who looked like George Bentley, Jr., could make her forget the reason she’d left Willow Falls. And that would be a big mistake. For both of them.
Chapter Two
George’s feeling of impending disaster intensified when he discovered that the apartment his mother had rented for Amy was directly opposite his own. The suspicion that had been hovering in the back of his mind leapt to the forefront. His mother was obviously trying to match him up with the brat. She had to be out of her mind. Well, this was one game she wasn’t going to win.
Scowling, he waited while Amy excitedly unlocked the door to her new home. Trust his mother to put her nose in where it wasn’t wanted. All those warnings about being a gentleman. Hah! If she was using some kind of reverse psychology to provoke him into trying something just to rebel, she’d underestimated his intelligence.
If Bettina thought, for one minute, he could ever be interested in a naive, tactless chatterbox like Amelia Richard, then she had bigger problems than he’d realized. It was bad enough he’d agreed to act as watchdog for a while. He’d be damned if he’d show the tiniest little bit of personal interest in Ben Richard’s daughter. There was a limit to the lengths he’d go to repay a debt.
Not that he disliked Amy, of course. In fact, there had been an occasion or two in the car when he’d been momentarily charmed by her candid comments. She was so appreciative of everything, so refreshingly excited about seeing Portland for the first time.
Most women he met weren’t that open. It was hard to tell when they were being sincere. He had never enjoyed playing those kinds of mind games, which was probably why he wasn’t in a relationship right now. Not that he wanted to be, of course.
The door swung open and Amy beamed at him. “Aren’t you going to carry me over the threshold?”
Taken aback, he stared at her, while his mind groped for a suitable answer.
Her laughter pealed out, echoing down the hallway. “Don’t look so horrified, Georgie, I was only teasing.”
He finally found his tongue. “I asked you not to call me by that name,” he said forcefully, but she’d already darted into the apartment. Gritting his teeth, he picked up the cases and followed her inside.
The living room matched his own, except it was back to front, though the furnishings made it look different. The tweed couch and armchair looked comfortable enough, and a small dinette set sat in the tiny dining area. A washed-out seascape hung on the wall, and beige drapes hung at the window. Color, George thought absently. That’s what the place needed. And a television. He couldn’t imagine being without a television. He wondered if Amy was having one delivered with the rest of her belongings.
She seemed thrilled with the drab-looking room, however. She flung out her arms and whirled around in a full circle. “Just look at this! Isn’t it super? I just love it. And it’s all mine.”
“As long as you pay the rent, anyway.” George dropped the bags in the middle of the beige carpet. “Where do you want these?”
“In the bedroom.” Amy danced across the room to the hallway. “Come on, it’s probably down here.”
The last place on earth George wanted to be right then was in a bedroom with Amy. Nevertheless, he hauled the cases down the hallway, pausing outside the open bedroom door to dump the cases just inside.
“Thank you, Georgie. You’re a sweetie.” Amy bounced up and down on a bare mattress. “Come and try this out. It feels so comfy. I’ll sleep as sound as a rock tonight.”
George cleared his throat. “Amy, I have to insist. My name is not Georgie. I hate Georgie. You have to call me George.”
She pursed her lips, and something stirred way down in his gut. “Well, I don’t like George, either. It sounds so pompous and stuffy.”
She studied him while he stood there feeling a little like a giraffe on display in the zoo. Then she flicked her fingers at him. “I know! You’re a junior, aren’t you? I’ll call you J.R. It gives you a sort of sinister air, like the J.R. in Dallas. Real exciting.”
She had an irritating way of tying his tongue up in knots. He untangled his thoughts. “You can’t be old enough to have watched Dallas.”
“Of course I am! It was my favorite show.” She sent him that dazzling smile of hers.
He caught a glimpse of small, very white, even teeth and the stirring in his belly struck again. “I imagine you’re tired after your long trip,” he said hopefully. “You must be ready to put your feet up.”
Amy shook her head. He watched, fascinated, as her shiny auburn hair swung against her cheek. “Nope, I’m not tired. I’m too excited to be tired. I can’t wait to explore Portland!”
Remembering his promise to Bettina, George almost groaned out loud. There went his relaxing weekends. Mountains, desert, gorge, beach, wineries—maybe if he crammed them all into one weekend and got it over with, that would be enough to satisfy his mother. Right now, though, he needed some time to prepare himself for the ordeal.
“Well, I have some errands to run.” He deliberately stared at his watch. “I’ll leave you to unpack and get acquainted with your new home.”
“No, wait!” She leapt to her feet. “Can I come with you? I have to buy groceries and bedding and kitchen stuff, and I don’t have a car.”
George kept his gaze on his watch. The book on financial security was waiting invitingly on his coffee table. He was hot and he was tired. What’s more, he was afraid that if he hung around her for too much longer, he’d forget why it was so imperative to stay immune to all that bounce and fervor. “I’m really short on time,” he said, not really expecting her to take no for an answer.
He was right. When he looked up again she was standing directly in front of him, her toes almost touching his. She smelled of roses after a spring rain. He caught his breath, wondering when in the heck he’d last smelled wet roses.
She tilted her head back and looked up at him, her eyes mossy green beneath extraordinary thick lashes. That damn squirming in his belly was getting worse.
“Please, J.R.,” she said softly. “I really do need your help.”
Okay, so she was right about the initials. He kind of liked the sound of them. They had an executive ring. The voice of authority. Not bad. Still, an afternoon with her at the mall shopping for bedding…
Amy tilted her head to one side and smiled hopefully at him.
George wavered.
“I don’t have anyone else I can ask,” Amy said earnestly, “except your mother, of course. I really don’t want to disturb her.”
At the mention of his mother, red flags started flapping madly in his brain. He could just see Bettina now—eyes gleaming while she bombarded Amy with questions and misconstrued every answer. “I’ll take you,” he said shortly. “But you’ll have to make some snap decisions.”
Amy nodded, her face solemn. “I’ll be just as snappy as you want.”
He eyed her, suspecting she was teasing him again, but her lovely eyes gazed at him with pure innocence. Once more he had to gather his thoughts. “All right. The mall is about ten minutes away. Do you know what you need?”
“I have a list. It’s in my bag out there.”
He stepped back to let her pass, then followed her down the hallway to the living room. He waited while she emptied an amazing assortment of items from the shoulder bag, then slung it over her shoulder.
“I’m ready.” Once more she flashed him that devastating grin. “Let’s go.”
He led the way to the car, trying to work out how many miles per day he could cover on his whirlwind tour of the countryside.
“So where are you working now, J.R.?” Amy asked as they pulled out of the parking lot.
“I’m an advisor in a pretty important financial consulting company,” George said, his mind still on miles per hour.
“Isn’t that awfully dull?”
George forgot about mountains and desert. This was his favorite subject. “Dull? It’s the most fascinating and rewarding profession as far as I’m concerned. There’s a tremendous responsibility in managing someone’s money. It’s like a sacred trust. These people are trusting in you to secure their future. The thrill I get when a client’s investments go through the roof is indescribable. Not that there’s been a lot of that lately, with the downturn in the economy. The challenge now is to make sure there are no heavy losses. One has to be conservative in this climate.…”
Carried away by his enthusiasm, he failed to notice Amy’s expression until she said clearly, “J.R., you really need to get a life.”
Offended, he risked a glance at her. She looked perfectly serious. Indignant now, he said stiffly, “I beg your pardon?”
She uttered a noisy sigh. “Any man whose biggest thrill is watching someone else’s money accumulate definitely needs a life. There is so much more out there to get excited about besides the almighty dollar.”
George tightened his mouth. She was attacking his very existence. “I’d like to see people manage without money.”
“A lot of people get by on very little, and a lot of them are perfectly happy. Money doesn’t buy happiness, Georgie. You should know that.”
Wondering what had happened to J.R., George squared his shoulders. “It’s not a matter of what money buys. It’s a matter of helping people manage what they’ve got.”
“And most of your clients have a lot of it, right?”
“I suppose so.”
“Well, there you are then.”
Confused, he sensed he’d lost some kind of battle. He just wished he knew what the conflict had been about. It was time he changed the subject, he decided. “My mother said you were looking for work in Portland. What kind of work?”
“Computer graphics. I have a degree in commercial arts, and I want to work in advertising. I don’t suppose you can help?” Her tone had suggested she didn’t have much hope of him being any help at all.
He turned into the busy parking lot of the mall and nosed the car into a space before answering. Remembering his enormous debt to her father, he said cautiously, “I might be able to help. A couple of my clients are execs in big corporations. I could sound them out for you, but I can’t make any promises, of course.”
“Of course,” Amy said solemnly.
He cut the engine and looked at her. She smiled at him, unsettling his belly again. “Thank you, J.R.,” she said softly. “I owe you one.”
To cover his confusion he said a little too sharply, “Don’t thank me yet. Nothing may come of it.” He opened the door and climbed out, beginning to wish he hadn’t made the offer. She was bound to be disappointed with him when it didn’t work out.
Amy was already out of the car when he rounded the trunk to the other side. She stood gazing at the medley of stores, her eyes wide. “Wow, this is a big mall.”
“You should find what you need here.” He gestured at the department store straight ahead. “I know this one has some fairly decent prices. I’d try there first. I’ll meet you back at the car in an hour, okay?” He glanced at his watch.
“Oh, but I thought you were coming with me!” Her green eyes mesmerized him again. “I need someone to give me opinions on colors and patterns and stuff.”
“I don’t know anything about colors and patterns and…” He cleared his throat again. “Get one of the salespeople to help you. After all, that’s what they’re there for.”
“They’re too prejudiced. Besides, they’ll suggest the most expensive stuff.” To his dismay she linked her arm in his. “Come on, J.R., I promise it won’t take long.”
Without waiting for his answer, she dragged him toward the store. Short of digging in his heels and snatching his arm away, he was obliged to go with her.
Once inside the store, Amy dashed from department to department, holding up sheets and towels for his inspection.
Plagued by visions of her wrapped in a fuzzy yellow bath towel and snuggling under green striped sheets in that “comfy” bed, George’s mouth felt dry as he nodded at almost everything she held up. If someone had asked him afterward, he wouldn’t have remembered one thing that she bought. All he could think about was how soon he could get out of there.
Much as he hated to admit it, he felt manipulated again. Damn his mother for getting him into this. But as long as he was committed, at least for a while, he would make sure that Amy understood that this time around, he called the shots. This was his town, and his life, and if she wanted him to help her settle in, she’d have to let him lead. He was in charge.
The idea cheered him up immensely. He’d get a great deal of satisfaction in letting Amelia Richard know that he was no longer the shy, ineffectual, clumsy oaf, perpetually tongue-tied whenever she showed up. Events had come full circle, and now it was his turn to be in command of the situation. And he’d be a lot kinder about it than she had been.
Loaded down with packages, he staggered after Amy as she headed for the doors of the store which led out into the enclosed mall. “The car’s the other way,” he said, trying not to pant as she paused in front of him.
“I have one more really quick stop,” she said, looking apologetic for once. “You don’t mind, do you, J.R.?”
When she gazed at him like that and called him J.R., it was difficult to deny her anything. He hauled the packages higher and did his best to make them seem featherweight. “All right, as long as it’s just one more. I really do have to get home.”
Her smile seemed to take a few pounds off his burden. “You’re an angel. It’s just down here. I saw it on the directory.” She sprinted off again and disappeared into the depths of a small shop tucked between a shoe store and one selling sporting goods.
He paused at the display of sporting goods in the window, his mind busily working out a schedule for Amy’s tour. Absorbed in his thoughts, he moved on to the entrance of the shop, only to freeze in the doorway when he realized he was about to enter Victoria’s Secret.
Before he could back out again Amy caught sight of him. She waved something at him, calling out loud enough for everyone to hear, “Hey, J.R., what do you think of these?”
Blood rushed to his cheeks when he saw the scrap of purple lace dangling from her fingers. He noticed faces turning his way and cursed himself for not paying attention to where he was going. He stumbled backward out of the doorway and waited outside the sporting goods store, furious at himself, his mother and Amy. Especially Amy. She’d made him feel like that gauche, awkward teenager again. If she’d been anyone else but Ben Richard’s daughter, he’d tell his mother to find someone else to watch over her precious Amelia.
Inside the lingerie store Amy hurriedly made her purchases. After seeing the look on Georgie’s face, she felt bad about embarrassing him. She certainly hadn’t meant to make him uncomfortable. She just had to remember that not all men were as lecherous as her four brothers.
His face still appeared stern and unapproachable when she joined him outside the store. Ignoring the frosty gleam in his dark eyes, she said brightly, “I’m all done. You can take me home now.”
He flicked his gaze across her face, then away. “What about your groceries?”
“I noticed a convenience store a couple of blocks from the apartments. I’ll walk over there later.” She took one of the packages from him. “I’ll just order in a pizza or something for dinner.”
He marched along by her side without speaking until they were out in the parking lot. Just before they reached the car he said quietly, “You shouldn’t be eating alone in your apartment your first night in town. It will take you a while to settle in. I’ll take you out to dinner, if you like.”
Surprised by this unexpected gesture she smiled up at him. “Really? That would be wonderful! I’d love that!”
He nodded, and she was relieved to see the harsh lines of his face softening. He really was a good-looking man when he wasn’t scowling. And so sweet and thoughtful, too. It was really too bad he hadn’t stayed in Willow Falls. Maybe if he had, she wouldn’t be in the mess she was in now.
“There’s a good seafood restaurant over there,” George said, as they pulled off the freeway headed for home. “They do an excellent crab dinner.”
Amy shuddered. “Sorry, I don’t like crab.”
He looked at her in amazement. “Everyone likes crab.”
“Not when it makes you erupt in ugly red blotches all over your body.”
Something flickered in his eyes and his voice sounded a little husky when he said, “They serve other foods as well.” He took a hand off the wheel to gesture at the window. “There’s a really good steak house if you prefer steak.”
“I try to stay away from red meat.” Aware she was sounding picky, she added hurriedly, “I like chicken and fish, though.”
“Except crab.”
She gave him a weak smile. “Sorry.”
“Chinese?”
She shrugged. “Not really.”
His breath came out a little forcefully. “All right, I’ll take you to an excellent downtown restaurant. They have an extremely varied menu and a great wine cellar. I’m sure you’ll find something you like there.”
“It sounds great. Thanks, J.R. It really is nice of you to go to all this trouble.”
She was rewarded with a tight smile. “My pleasure.”
A few minutes later they arrived back at the apartments, and George helped carry her purchases inside.
“Just dump them on the couch,” she said, as he stood, looking a little unsure of himself, in the middle of her living room.
“Won’t you need this stuff in the…er…bedroom?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to suggest he help her make up the bed, but she stopped herself just in time. “Thanks, but I’ll take care of it later. I’ll let you get back to your errands.”
He flashed her a quick glance. “Oh, well, it was nothing important.” He dropped the heavy packages on the couch. “Sure you can manage?”
“Sure. Thanks a heap for taking me shopping.”
“Anytime. Though you will have to see about a car eventually. Our transportation services are pretty good, but if you want to get around outside the city you’ll need a car.”
“Oh, I plan to get one. I sold mine before I left Willow Falls. It was falling apart anyway.” She gazed up at him. “I could really use some good advice on buying a car.”
George coughed. “Well, I’m no expert, but I guess I could give you some pointers.”
“Super. We’ll check out some used cars.” She moved over to the door and opened it. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later?”
“Later?”
“For dinner?”
“Oh, right!” He hurried over to the door. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“I’ll be ready.” She beamed at him.
He bumped his shoulder as he went through the door. He didn’t seem to notice.
She closed the door behind him and leaned against it for a moment as her smile faded. George was a challenge and she’d enjoyed rattling his cage. For a little while life had been fun again. For a little while she’d forgotten why she’d left home to start life all over again in a strange town. For a little while she’d even managed to keep Luke’s face out of her mind, and the cruel words he’d flung at her that last day just before he’d roared off in a hot cloud of dust.
The pain was still there, and it hurt just as much now as it had then. But she was learning to deal with it. And soon she’d face her problem and do something about it. But not now. Not yet. Not until she couldn’t avoid it any longer.
Chapter Three
George arrived promptly at seven that evening, as Amy had known he would. Guessing that he was a stickler for punctuality, she’d made an effort to be ready for him. After a great deal of thought she’d settled on a short, sleeveless sheath in pale apple-green and covered it with a navy linen jacket. His expression, when she opened the door to him, was hard to judge.
“Nice,” he commented, as he stepped through the doorway. Since his gaze was focused on the couch at bright orange pillows that she’d bought that afternoon, she couldn’t be sure if he was complimenting those or her.