Raising the Stakes

“You’re not home sick. You’re not an oil spot on the road. I mean, that’s what I figured. That you were doubled over with some bug you picked up at dinner, or that I’d been an idiot to let you drive home alone…” He stopped, dragged in a breath and told himself to take it easy. “Where were you this morning? Did you forget you were meeting me?”

“I didn’t forget.” She folded her arms, though it looked more like she was wrapping them around herself. “And I apologize. I should have phoned, I know.”

“You know.” Gray’s mouth thinned. “What is it with you? Do you get a kick out of letting men think you’re interested and then standing them up?”

Her spine stiffened. “You have no right to say that.”

“I have every right. This is twice you’ve done this, lady. How many chances does a guy usually give you to make an ass out of him?”

Anger flashed in her eyes. “I don’t have to listen to this.”

He caught hold of her arm. “Yes, you do.”

“Gray.” She sank her teeth into her bottom lip and spoke quietly. “Please, don’t make a scene.”

“Yeah. I’ll bet that’s what you count on.” He let go of her and dug both hands into the pockets of his chinos. “You give a man that `don’t hurt me’ look and you figure he’ll just walk away with his tail between his legs.”

It was a cruel thing to say, knowing what he did about her husband. He hated himself for it as soon as the words were out of his mouth but it was too late to call them back and besides, when had she given a damn about him? He stood his ground, teeth clenched, as she started to walk away and then he cursed, went after her and stepped out in her path. She tried to dodge around him but he wouldn’t let her.

“Okay. Maybe that was pushing it, but—”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Dammit, it does matter. Look, I’m sorry I said that, okay?”

Instead of trying to move past him, she stood still and put her hand on his arm. “People are watching,” she said, and somehow it only made him angry, that the very first time she’d touched him it was in defense.

“Let them,” he said gruffly. “I don’t care.”

“But I do. My job…” She drew a ragged breath. “Look. I owe you an apology.”

Just that quickly, he felt his temper dissipate. He smiled, moved closer to her. “No. I owe you one. If you couldn’t meet me—”

“Not about that. I mean, I should apologize for not telling you, to your face, that I was calling things off.” She licked her lips nervously. “I can’t see you anymore, Gray. That’s why I didn’t keep our date this morning.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

“It’s the same thing.” She took her hand from his arm and stepped back. “And I’m working, so—”

“Dawn.” He snatched her wrist as she began turning away. “What the hell’s going on here? One minute you want to be with me. The next, you don’t. “

“Nothing’s going on.” Her eyes flew to his. “I should have told you last night. I don’t want to see you ag—”

“Miss Carter? Is there a problem?”

Gray swung around. A face-off with Keir O’Connell was the last thing he wanted right now, but it wasn’t Keir who had come up behind him, it was a man in a dark suit with salt and pepper hair, a ruddy face and a smile that didn’t come close to concealing the threat in his blue eyes.

“Mr. Coyle.” Dawn breathed the name as if it were a prayer. “No. No problem. This gentleman—Mr. Baron—was just—he was just asking me some questions about the hotel.”

“Mr. Baron.” Dan nodded. “I’m Dan Coyle. Head of security at the Desert Song. Perhaps I can assist you.”

“I don’t need assistance,” Gray said brusquely. “I was just on my way out.”

“Ah.” Coyle smiled, though his gaze remained icy. “In that case, sir, I won’t keep you…but please remember that I’m always ready to offer whatever aid you might need.”

Gray smiled thinly. The message was clear. He’d been warned to watch his step.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Coyle, but it’s not necessary. I assure you, I’ve had enough of this place and its people.”