Surprise Partners Page 8

  “I could have handled him.”

  “I’m sure you could. Still, it was easier because I was there. Just as your presence with me at the ranch prevented Heather from bringing someone to meet me last weekend.”

  She rubbed her temples, suddenly weary. “At least it’s over now. Three parties in three weeks is enough. There’s nothing else on my social calendar for a while. I can get back to work.”

  “You really think Larissa will give up so easily?”

  “She has no choice. She knows my work comes first.”

  Scott made a sound she couldn’t quite interpret, then remained quiet as he turned the car into their parking lot. He didn’t speak again until he had parked in his usual space. “Next time we get together, let’s make it just us, shall we?”

  She quickly reminded herself of the times they’d gotten together before, just the two of them. “Yes, we’ll have to do that sometime. We’ve never had a chance to discuss that article about laboratory contamination.”

  “Actually, I didn’t…” He paused, then smiled a bit wryly. “Yeah, that would be great.”

  She didn’t even try to talk him out of walking her to her door this time since she knew she would be wasting her breath. Scott Pearson was a gentleman down to his manicured nails. And yet there was nothing gentlemanly about the way he looked at her when he turned to her at her door.

  She gulped and reached for the doorknob. “Well…good night.”

  He detained her with a hand on her arm. “It is customary to conclude a date with a good-night kiss.”

  “But this wasn’t a real date,” she reminded him.

  He lifted a hand to trace her jaw with his fingertips. “It felt pretty real to me.”

  “Scott…”

  “Am I complicating things again?”

  She couldn’t seem to stop staring at his mouth, which was so close to her own. “Yes.”

  “Want me to stop?”

  No, she almost said.

  “Yes,” she made herself say instead.

  “Liar,” he murmured with a soft laugh. And slid his hand behind her head to pull her mouth to his.

  Chapter Six

  Lydia had told herself this wasn’t going to happen again. She had promised herself that, if it did, she wouldn’t respond. She had made a solemn vow to herself not to get lost in this fantasy Scott had created for them.

  Even as her hands slid up his chest to clench at his shoulders, she told herself she had to stop this. Even as her lips softened and parted, she tried to find the strength to draw away. And even as he drew her closer until she was pressed snugly against him, she felt herself getting utterly lost….

  She wasn’t the one who brought the long, thorough kiss to an end. It was Scott who finally lifted his head, slowly, lingeringly, breaking the embrace. He drew a deep, unsteady breath, his eyes dark green as he gazed down at her. For once, there was no evidence of lazy amusement on his face.

  She stared up at him, unable to find the voice to speak even if she had known what to say.

  Larissa, she thought, would have handled this moment with poise, humor, confidence. She would have known what to say to break the awkwardness, to bring the interlude to an end…or, maybe, if she had desired, to carry it further. She wouldn’t have just stood there, staring stupidly up at him, feeling as if her head had been emptied of all coherent thought.

  This was one of the times when Lydia wished she was more like her sister.

  Scott cleared his throat. “So maybe we could get together tomorrow? For dinner or something, I mean. We could talk about that lab contamination article,” he added as if he’d just remembered it.

  Not a good idea, she thought, gradually finding her way back to reality. Finally regaining her voice, she spoke with a firmness that came with an effort. “Thank you, but I have a lot of work to do. I really should get back to it.”

  For just a moment, he looked as if he would have liked to argue, but then he nodded. “I understand. I’ve been neglecting my own work a bit lately. I suppose I’d better get back to the grind myself.”

  “We agreed that neither of us really has time to date right now,” she reminded him.

  “Right.” He ran a hand through his hair and, to her relief, took a step back from her. Somehow it seemed easier to breathe with a few more inches of space between them. “So,” he said, “I’ll call you sometime.”

  She nodded. “Please do.”

  Meaningless pleasantries, she thought. It was the first time she and Scott had resorted to them. It had been so much more comfortable between them before they’d messed everything up with dates and kisses. She should have remembered how often that had happened to her with other men who should never have tried to be more than friends with her.

  Before things could get even more awkward and uncomfortable, she opened her door and slipped inside, closing it quietly but firmly between them.

  As she turned on the overhead light, a stack of paperwork piled on her coffee table caught her eye, reminding her of the responsibilities always waiting for her. “Playtime’s over,” she murmured. “It’s back to work for you now.”

  But it had been rather nice while it had lasted, she thought wistfully.

  Lydia didn’t hear from Scott—nor did she expect to—for the remainder of the weekend. She was surprised to receive a delivery of flowers at her office on Monday afternoon, a beautiful bouquet of white roses in a pretty, cut-glass vase. She dug through the blossoms looking for a note, but the only card she found bore only her name and delivery address.

  She frowned at the arrangement in mingled pleasure and bemusement. Why hadn’t Scott enclosed a card? Had he been so confident she would know who sent it? What message had he been trying to send?

  Or had he sent it? But if not Scott, then who?

  She groaned and rubbed her temples with the tips of her fingers. She hadn’t had much sleep during the past two nights, having spent too many hours staring at the ceiling and seeing there an imaginary replay of that kiss outside her door. While she had indulged in secret fantasies of kissing Scott before, they had been pleasant, comfortable daydreams that seemed safe enough. But there had been nothing safe about the real thing. Nothing in the least comfortable about the feelings it aroused in her.

  Someone hesitated in her open doorway. “Ms. McKinley?”

  Pulling her gaze from the flowers to the young woman who’d spoken, Lydia thrust thoughts of Scott to the back of her mind. “Hello, Jessica. Can I help you?”

  “It’s about the assignment you gave in class this morning. I’m not really sure what you want our focus to be.”

  Lydia had explained the assignment in detail. Twice. And she had noticed even while doing so that Jessica had been paying more attention to the broad-shouldered young athlete in the seat beside her than to what Lydia was saying.

  Drawing on her strained patience, she waved toward the chair on the other side of her desk. “I have five minutes before my next class. I’ll go over it once quickly, but that’s all I can give you. And it might help you in class if you chose a seat a bit farther from Mr. Sherman.”

  The young woman blushed rosily. “Thank you, Ms. McKinley. I’ll try to pay closer attention from now on.”

  Since her own concentration had been adversely affected by a man that day, Lydia didn’t feel as though she had much right to criticize Jessica.

  “Scott? Were you actually going to play those cards or just sit and contemplate them for a while?”

  Scott blinked, then frowned at Cameron, who sat across the table impatiently drumming his fingers. “I’m thinking.”

  “Yeah, but are you thinking about poker?”

  “Leave the guy alone, Cam,” Shane drawled, glancing up from his own hand. “As badly as he’s playing tonight, the rest of us are benefiting from his inattention. I’ve already made twenty bucks off him.”

  “I always like playing poker with a lovesick dude,” Michael agreed cheerfully, admiring the tidy stack of plastic chips
in front of him. “It’s hard for a guy to think with his head and his groin all at the same time.”

  “All right, that’s enough,” Scott growled, finding little amusement in their teasing. “As it happens, I’ve been distracted by a new case at work.”

  It was a lie, of course. A probably futile attempt to save face in front of his friends. He hated to admit he had spent the past week moping over Lydia like an infatuated teenager.

  He didn’t know why he couldn’t seem to get her out of his mind lately. He’d known her for months without becoming obsessed with her before. He’d always admired her, had always found her attractive, had always enjoyed spending time with her. But it had been easy before. Comfortable. Casual. Why had that changed just because they’d shared a couple of kisses?

  Was it simply ego? Had it stung his pride that Lydia didn’t seem to be as deeply affected as he had been? That she had so coolly turned him down while his head was still spinning from a kiss that had shaken him to his boots?

  A gusty sigh sounded from the other side of the table. “Call or fold, Pearson.”

  “Uh…call.” Scott threw some chips on the table. Minutes later, he scowled when Shane scooped them up. “Oh, man. I’d better quit while I’m behind.”

  “Definitely not your night for poker, pal.” Shane stacked his chips and grinned lazily at Scott. “Something on your mind?”

  “Someone, you mean,” Michael murmured. “The pretty professor, perhaps?”

  “Any of those brownies left?” Scott pushed his chair from Michael’s kitchen table where they’d gathered to play poker while Kelly and Judy attended a baby shower for Shane’s cousin, Brynn D’Alessandro.

  “Ah. He’s avoiding the subject.” Michael nodded smugly. “The boy’s got a case.”

  “Don’t be an ass,” Scott snapped, snatching one of the brownies Judy had made for them and plopping back into his seat. “Lydia and I are just friends.”

  “I, for one, am glad to hear that,” Cameron murmured, reaching for his beer.

  Scott frowned, trying to remember how many beers Cameron had had that evening. For the past year or so—ever since the inevitable but painful breakup with Amber—Cameron had been drinking harder, taking more risks, caring about little beyond his newspaper work and his small circle of longtime friends.

  Estranged from his family, he was spending more and more time alone. When he did go out, he seemed to deliberately date women he didn’t even particularly like. Scott suspected that Cameron was trying to keep anyone else from being hurt by his inability to commit to a permanent relationship. The whole gang was worried about Cameron, but he kept assuring them he was fine and didn’t need their concern.

  “Why are you glad to hear that Lydia and I are just friends?” Scott asked curiously.

  Cameron’s smile had a wicked edge to it. “If you’re just friends, then you won’t mind if I spend time with her. For research purposes, of course.”

  Scott had thought it might be a good idea for Cameron to spend time with a nice woman. He hadn’t meant Lydia.

  Refusing to let himself take Cameron’s bait—as tempting as it was to do so—Scott took a bite of the brownie and mumbled around it, “That’s between you and Lydia.”

  “I’ve got to admit, I’ve never seen a scientist with legs like hers,” Cameron said.

  “Sexist remark,” Shane commented, shuffling cards. “Kelly would bite your head off if she heard you.”

  With a smile that looked more like the “old” Cam, he shrugged. “You’re right. And I suppose I would deserve it. But Lydia does have great legs. Don’t you think so, Scott?”

  Scott had no intention of discussing Lydia’s legs—great as they were—with these clowns. “Are we going to gossip or play poker?”

  “Gossip works for me,” Michael answered cheerfully. “How come you and Lydia are only friends, Scott? She seems perfect for you.”

  “Now you sound like my matchmaking sister. Except that she would rather fix me up with someone else.”

  “Heather doesn’t like Lydia?” Shane looked surprised. “How come?”

  “Beats the hell out of me. She said something about Lydia reminding her of Paula. Which is ridiculous, of course.”

  Michael shook his head. “Lydia’s nothing like Paula.”

  “Other than the fact that they’re both attractive, strong-willed, independent women with minds and lives of their own, they’re nothing at all alike,” Cam murmured.

  Scott shook his head. “Take it from someone who knows them both—they’re very different.”

  While Scott liked both women very much, he thought of them as almost complete opposites. Forty-year-old Paula had been married and divorced three times and was always on the lookout for her next rich husband. She was independent and self-sufficient, but her idea of taking care of herself was to marry well. She had confided to Scott that, contrary to what most people thought of her, she didn’t go into the marriages with the intention of divorcing for alimony. She had even signed prenuptial agreements for her last two marriages, taking very little away with her after her divorces. Could she help it, she had asked ruefully with self-deprecating humor, if men—even her ex-husbands—insisted on giving her money and gifts?

  Not that he was in a league with her wealthy exes, but Scott had always rather enjoyed giving Paula gifts himself. She always seemed so utterly delighted with them. He knew she was self-centered and materialistic and terminally restless when it came to staying too long in one place or with one man. But he’d had a great time with her while it lasted.

  Despite Heather’s fears about the woman she despised at first sight, Scott had never entertained thoughts of a longtime involvement with Paula. She had been what he needed at the time—an ego boost after a painful disaster of a relationship—and maybe he’d served the same purpose for her. They’d ended the affair quite congenially, and he wished her well with her new adventures.

  He wasn’t sure it would be possible to have such a pleasantly uncomplicated relationship with Lydia.

  Lydia was more serious than Paula, more focused, less social. Her sense of humor was dryer, her sexuality more subtle. Lydia, Scott thought, was a woman who could almost make a man forget that he didn’t have the time or inclination for a full-blown relationship. Not that it would do the guy any good. She’d made it clear enough that her own work came first with her.

  “You going to let Heather keep you from seeing Lydia?” Michael wanted to know.

  Scott shook his head. “I make my own decisions. But seriously, guys, there’s nothing going on between Lydia and me. We’re just friends.”

  “That’s what I said about Kelly,” Shane observed. “Right up until the day I proposed to her in front of my entire family.”

  Scott frowned repressively at him. “That isn’t the case here.”

  He noted that none of his friends seemed convinced by his disclaimer.

  A week and a half after Larissa’s housewarming party, Lydia met her sister and their friend Cheyenne for lunch at a tearoom near the university. It was Cheyenne’s last day in Dallas for a while, and she’d expressed a wish for one quiet visit with the McKinley sisters.

  “We hardly had a chance to talk at the party,” she said as they settled behind the various salads they had ordered for lunch.

  “I always find it difficult to have conversations at parties,” Lydia agreed. “I prefer more intimate get-togethers like this.”

  Larissa raised an eyebrow. “I happen to think that was a great party.”

  “Of course it was.” Cheyenne smiled and patted Larissa’s arm. “A truly great party. But this is nice, too, just the three of us.”

  Appeased, Larissa nodded and stuck her fork into her pasta salad.

  Cheyenne turned then to Lydia. “I was so surprised when you came to the party with Scott Pearson. Have the two of you been seeing each other long?”

  “We live in the same apartment building,” Lydia hedged, aware of Larissa’s sudden frown. “We’v
e only been out together a few times.”

  “How long have you known him, Cheyenne?” Larissa inquired.

  “I met him more than a year ago. He was involved then with a woman I know through my parents’ country club. He and Paula were quite an item for a while.”

  “I’ve told Lydia that I’m not sure he’s right for her,” Larissa confided. “He’s just so…smooth. Polished. I wouldn’t be at all surprised to hear that he has political aspirations.”

  “I wouldn’t know about that. I really didn’t know him all that well. I just saw him at a few parties with Paula. He always seemed nice enough, if rather…”

  “Rather what?” Larissa demanded when Cheyenne gave Lydia a glance and allowed her voice to trail off.

  “Well…I suppose you said it best, Larissa. The guy’s smooth. I always wondered if there was anything at all real beneath his pretty surface.”

  Larissa pounced on Cheyenne’s words with alacrity. “There you go, Lyddie. Cheyenne agrees with me—and you’ve always said Chey was a good judge of people, right?”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “I bet this guy broke your friend’s heart, Cheyenne. And now he’s moved on to my sister.”

  Lydia rolled her eyes and started to protest, but Cheyenne spoke first with a little laugh. “I doubt very seriously that any hearts were broken between Scott and Paula. Their relationship wasn’t that serious. Paula’s probably ten years older than Scott. Everyone knew they were just having a good time until something better came along. They were together for sex and laughs, and neither of them pretended to want anything more from each other. It was a relationship of convenience, not commitment.”

  Convenience, Lydia thought with a sudden hollow feeling. The same type of arrangement Scott had proposed to her, though the subject of sex hadn’t actually come up. Was that where he’d been headed with those kisses? Had he been auditioning her to be his next “convenient” friend? It didn’t sound as though she had much in common with Paula, but she’d made it clear to Scott that she wasn’t looking for a serious relationship right now. Had that been her chief attraction for him?