Seductively Yours (The Wild McBrides 1)

“So your lunch with him was strictly business?”

“You could say that,” she agreed coolly. “My business.”

She could almost hear him wince. “Look, Jamie, I didn’t mean to sound intrusive,” he said awkwardly. “It’s just—well, you haven’t been back in town very long and you probably aren’t aware of some of the things that go on around here.”

“Honoria hasn’t changed that much while I was away. And I know how to plug in to the gossip lines—if I had any interest in doing so.”

“I didn’t call to gossip.” He sounded annoyed by the implication.

“Then why did you call?” she challenged him.

“I want you to have dinner with me tomorrow night.”

Jamie nearly dropped her paintbrush. She had to call on her acting skills to respond with cool amusement to his tactless invitation. “Was that a request—or an order?”

“A request,” he replied, his tone a bit rueful. “I’m sorry if I sounded abrupt. I’m afraid I’m out of practice when it comes to this sort of thing. It’s been a few years since I asked a woman to dinner.”

A few years? Had he really not been on a date since his wife died? Not quite sure how she felt about that, Jamie considered the invitation.

Whatever his reason for asking, it was only dinner, she reminded herself. Her longtime fascination with Trevor made her want to accept—but also made her wary of doing so. She was just starting to feel comfortable in town again. She was hesitant to risk firing up the gossips with an experiment that would probably end up going nowhere.

She had told herself repeatedly that she’d come back to rest, to teach, to put painful old memories to rest, and to decide what to do with the rest of her life now that she had accepted that her acting career had gone about as far as she was willing to take it. She had tried to convince herself that it was only coincidence that she’d decided to take the teaching job only after hearing that Trevor McBride had moved back to Honoria. But she’d always been aware of a nagging urge to see him again, this man who’d haunted her dreams and her memories for so long. The man to whom other men had never quite measured up, no matter how hard she had tried not to compare them to him.

“We could drive into Atlanta for dinner,” Trevor said, correctly guessing a small part of the reason for her hesitation. “That way we wouldn’t have to worry about whatever Martha Godwin or any of the other local jaw-flappers around here might say about seeing us together.”

She was relieved by his suggestion. “That sounds nice,” she said.

There never had been any question, really, that she would turn him down. She had waited too long for this.

“Shall I pick you up at seven?”

“Pick me up?” She slid comfortably back into teasing, using it, as always, as a way to hide her real emotions. “Shouldn’t we meet in a dark alley somewhere?”

“No. But I’ll wear a disguise, if you like.”

His dry rejoinder pleased her. “How will I recognize you?”

“I’ll wear a pink rose on my lapel.”

“A pink rose?” She laughed. “That should serve as an effective disguise in itself, given your ultra-conservative-attorney image.”

“Then it will serve its purpose, won’t it? If anyone sees it, they’ll assume I’m one of your eccentric theater friends.”

“What makes you think my theater friends are eccentric?”

“Call it a wild guess. I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”

“I’ll be working on my own disguise,” she promised.

“I shudder to think what that might be.” But she thought she heard a smile in his voice. “Good night, Jamie.”

She hung up the phone and looked back at the painting. Might as well clean her brushes, she thought. She doubted that she would be able to concentrate any more tonight.

TREVOR WAS COMBATTING guilt when he turned into Jamie’s driveway Saturday evening. As much as the kids enjoyed staying with their grandparents, he still felt badly about leaving them on a weekend after spending so many hours away from them while he worked during the week. It hadn’t been easy for him to ask his mother to baby-sit, especially since he’d had to explain his reason for needing her. To her credit, Bobbie’s only reaction when he’d told her he was taking Jamie to dinner was to tell him to have a good time.

Whether she had said so or not, he knew his mother was pleased. She’d been urging him to get out more for the past five or six months. She’d said it “wasn’t natural” for a young man like him to spend so much time alone. When he’d reminded her that he had two young children to raise, she had replied that she thought he was a very good father, but he still needed a life of his own. Melanie, she had added as gently as possible for her, would not have wanted him to spend the rest of his life in mourning.

He wondered what she would have said if he’d told her he suspected Melanie might have taken great satisfaction from having him do exactly that. Trevor still hadn’t told