A Wish For Love (Gates-Cameron 2)

Bailey resisted an impulse to fan her warm face with her free hand. “I wish you would tell me something about yourself.”

His smile faded. “There’s little to tell.”

“Somehow, I find that very hard to believe.”

“There are many things about me that you would probably find very hard to believe.”

It was enough to drive a sober woman to drink. Bailey took a calming gulp of her soda, then abruptly set the glass on the dresser. “You,” she said as calmly as she could manage, “are the most frustrating, uncooperative, secretive, annoying man I have ever met.”

He didn’t smile, though his eyes warmed with what looked like private amusement. He moved closer to her, his voice lowering to a sexy growl. “And you are the most inquisitive, most generous and most intriguing woman I have ever known,” he replied. “You also have the most beautiful legs I’ve ever seen.”

She promptly went scarlet. “You’re only trying to distract me,” she said, suddenly self-conscious of wearing her shorts.

“I’m being completely truthful,” he countered. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Not about my legs,” she protested.

“Would you prefer that I talk about your beautiful blue eyes? Or your lovely, warm smile? Or your musical voice or slender waist or full, soft—”

“No,” she said in a choked voice, holding up a hand to stop him. “I don’t think you need to mention any of those things.”

Even though she couldn’t help being flattered that he’d noticed.

“We were talking about you,” she reminded him somewhat desperately.

“No,” he said gently, his gaze focused on her hand, which hovered only an inch or so away from his chest. “You were talking about me. I find you much more interesting.”

She suddenly wanted to touch him. To be touched by him. It was foolish, but the urge was almost overwhelming. She lifted her hand toward his face. “Bran, I—”

He jerked out of her reach just as the telephone on the nightstand shattered the intimacy between them with a demanding ring.

Bailey stood with her hand suspended in midair, wondering why Bran had acted as though her touch would burn him. Why he was still looking at her as though she was dangerous.

The telephone rang again, insistently.

“You should answer that,” Bran said after a moment.

She nodded and moved to pick up the receiver. “Hello.”

“Hi, Bailey, it’s Dean. How are you?”

“Dean,” she repeated, her eyes still focused on Bran. “I’m fine. Are you and Anna enjoying your vacation?”

“Yes, we’re having a wonderful time. Anna sends her love.”

“Give my love to her.”

“I must go,” Bran murmured, just loudly enough for Bailey to hear. “Please don’t mention me.”

She nodded numbly, watching as he turned and disappeared through the bedroom door and into the other room.

“Bailey?” Dean urged.

She turned her attention back to the call, managing to carry on a reasonably coherent conversation with her brother. She kept her promise to Bran; she didn’t mention him to Dean. She wasn’t sure exactly what she would have said about him, anyway.

The call didn’t last long. Dean had simply wanted to check in with her, to ask if she was comfortable in the cottage, to make sure she was all right. When she hung up, she walked into the sitting room, only to find it empty. The front door was securely locked.

Bran had left as silently as he’d arrived.