Not that he was any sort of playboy, but he was used to women being eager to see him. He seldom had time for even half the women who called asking him to accompany them to social functions. He had a hunch it would be a cold day in hell before Gina asked him to dance again, much less to join her for dinner. That made her a challenge, and as she had already guessed, he loved a challenge.
The smart thing would be to speak to a local judge, arrange a quick deposition—first thing tomorrow morning, if possible—and then hightail it out of town before he lost sight of his professional ethics.
The only problem with that was that it would leave Gina Petrillo on her own in Wyoming. She’d be able to sneak off to who-knew-where the minute his back was turned. And she was his best link to Roberto Rinaldi. The deposition was only half of what he wanted from her. He also wanted her to lead him to that sleazebag partner of hers. Sooner or later she was going to make contact with the man, if only to strangle him herself…or to get her share of the cash he’d stolen.
No, he concluded, he was here to stay. At least until Gina went back to New York, which she’d insisted would be in two weeks.
Two endless weeks, he thought despondently. Lydia would be elated.
He listened to the annoying whine of a fiddle as the band tuned up for yet another round of country songs, and shuddered. Why couldn’t the woman have run off to Italy? Or Paris? Or anyplace civilized where the music tended to be classical?
“Care to dance, Mr. O’Donnell?”
He gazed down into Lauren’s crystal-blue eyes and wondered why he wasn’t the least bit tempted by the superstar. Because the only eyes on his mind were black as onyx and belonged to a woman who was off-limits, he made himself nod.
“I’d be honored,” he told her. If nothing else, it would be a story to tell when he got back home. Maybe even to repeat to his children, if he ever got around to marrying.
They had taken only a few awkward steps to the unfamiliar rhythm when Lauren came to a stop and dropped any pretense of friendliness. “You don’t know much about the Texas two-step, do you, Mr. O’Donnell?”
“Can’t say that I do,” he admitted. “Tonight is the first time I’ve tried it.”
“Do you consider yourself a quick learner?” she asked.
He regarded her warily. “Under most circumstances.”
“Okay, then, here’s another lesson,” she said. “You don’t know any more about Gina than you do about the two-step. She won’t tell me why you’re here, but your presence is clearly upsetting her, and I don’t like that. She’s a terrific person and she’s among friends, Mr. O’Donnell. You tangle with her, you tangle with all of us.”
He grinned at the feisty defense and the warning. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I’m not saying that for your amusement,” she snapped. “I mean it. People who underestimate me live to regret it.”
He managed a more somber expression. “I’m aware of that, Ms. Winters. You’ve made your point.”
She studied him intently, then nodded, evidently satisfied. “See that you don’t forget it.”
He watched as she went back to a cluster of three women, Gina among them. Lauren gave her friend a fierce hug, a public demonstration of support meant for his benefit, no doubt. He admired the show of loyalty, but it didn’t change his mind about Gina.
Whether Gina was a thief or not remained to be seen, but her partner was, and that made her guilty of very bad judgment if nothing else. Nothing she’d said or done tonight had persuaded him of her innocence. In fact, quite the opposite.
The way he saw it, Gina was even more dangerous than he’d anticipated. She was savvy and unpredictable. She had a smart mouth. With her restaurant under siege, she just might get it into her head that she had nothing to lose. She could decide to run. And she was surrounded by people who evidently would do just about anything to protect her no matter how guilty she might be.
He was going to have to keep a clear head, which was doubly difficult given the effect she had on him. Obviously, what he needed was a good night’s sleep, though he doubted he’d get it with Gina’s sexy image plaguing him. He glanced around until he found her in the crowd.
She was dancing again, head thrown back, her gaze locked with some cowboy’s. Rafe felt his blood boil. He wanted to stride across the field and yank her out of the man’s embrace. The depth of that unexpected and unfamiliar streak of jealousy startled him. He hadn’t cared enough about any woman to be jealous, not ever. This was not good, not good at all.
He definitely needed to get back to his motel room, alone, and get his sex-starved emotions under control. He hadn’t mentioned to Gina that he’d brought the Café Tuscany books with him. Studying those cold, hard figures ought to put things back into perspective. And they were a whole lot more reliable and easier to understand than any woman. His mother had taught him that.
Gina didn’t get a wink of sleep all night long. Despite her cool responses and bravado the night before, Rafe O’Donnell had gotten to her. She knew all about the fancy Park Avenue law firm he worked for. She’d recognized the name from its frequent mentions on the news, and some of the partners were among her best customers. They didn’t take cases they didn’t intend to win. She didn’t doubt that he was as driven and determined as the rest of them.
Which meant he was going to make her life a living hell. Oh, in the end, she might be able to prove that Bobby had acted alone, but
