Every Waking Moment Page 3

  “I prefer not to take any more chances on that.” Carefully, Gail rearranged a display of diaries on top of the case. “I thought I knew Frank well when I married him. I had no idea that the so-called qualities I admired in him would be so destructive. I thought he was strong and protective, but instead he turned out to be possessive and insanely jealous. I was a virtual prisoner in my own home, and I have no intention of ever being that miserable again.”

  “Life is about taking risks,” Polly said gently. “I hate to see you waste yours because of some burn who didn’t know how to love a woman.”

  Gail held back the bitter response hovering on her tongue. The warmhearted bookseller looked upon Gail as the daughter she’d never had. Polly just didn’t know the true story. And Gail was going to make darn sure she never knew. Her life—and Heather’—might very well depend on that some day.

  Chapter 2

  Alone in his hotel room, Blake sat on the edge of his bed, going over the entire conversation he’d had with Gail Stevens earlier. She wasn’t at all what he’d been led to believe. Tight-lipped, of course; but that was to be expected. She also had that indefinable air of class, which surprised him. So was the way she made him feel when she smiled—as if he’d just stepped into a sauna.

  She’d made it obvious she didn’t trust him, and anyone with an ounce of intelligence could tell she was hiding something. Unfortunately for her, Gail Stevens was not too good at hiding her feelings.

  Which made it all the tougher to accept the facts as he knew them. How the devil did a woman like her get involved in the kind of mess she’d ended up in?

  Blake shoved himself off the bed and paced uneasily to the window. The wind whipped the branches of the tall firs that lined the parking lot, making them sway like the giant masts of a storm-tossed schooner. He could hear a faint whistling sound coming from the window frame, and when he put his fingers there, he could feel a cold draft.

  Already it was getting dark and it wasn’t yet five o’clock. The sun set early in this northern winter. He hunched his shoulders, as if he were outside in the wind instead of in the warmth of his room. The more he thought about this assignment, the less he liked it. Something didn’t add up.

  With a frown he left the window and headed for the courtesy bar next to the television set. Inside, he found a couple of miniature bourbons and a half bottle of soda. He took them out, then grabbed the ice bucket and went in search of the ice machine.

  Striding down the silent corridor of the deserted hotel, he faced the source of his uneasiness. For the first time in a good many years, he was attracted to a woman again. He’d started to think he’d outgrown those schoolboy urges, but sitting across the table from Gail Stevens that afternoon, he’d wondered what it would be like to take her to bed and make hot, passionate love to her.

  The thought had startled him, and he’d had the devil of a time hiding his reaction. Luckily he was better at covering up his emotions than she was.

  Cursing under his breath, Blake shoved the bucket beneath the chute of the ice machine and leaned on the button. He had to admit, if he’d been in that diner for any other reason, he would have thoroughly enjoyed having lunch with her. That wasn’t all he might have enjoyed. Just thinking about what might have followed brought beads of sweat to his brow.

  He had no illusions about the trouble he was in. Those kinds of feelings were going to make his job that much tougher. And if he had any sense of self-preservation, he had better get his head on straight—stat. He couldn’t afford to mess this one up. There was too much at stake.

  The ice spilled over the edge of the bucket and again he muttered a quiet oath. He had a job to do, he told himself, and he was going to do it. And he couldn’t let an attractive woman with sad, beautiful eyes and the most seductive body he’d ever been that close to, get in his way.

  When Gail left with Heather for school the next morning, she found a new, soft blanket of snow covering the streets. The sun, however, had swallowed up the clouds, leaving a watery blue sky and a hazy view of the white mountain peaks in the distance.

  “Can we go sledding again, Mommy?” Heather asked, as Gail bundled her into the car. “I wanna go up the mountain again.”

  “We’ll see,” Gail murmured, only half listening to her daughter. She had slept badly, disturbed by dreams that included Frank and a shadowy stranger who looked a lot like Blake Foster.

  Unable to shake the unsettling images, she dropped Heather off and headed for The Book Nook. To her relief the morning passed without any sign of the imposing tourist, and she was beginning to relax by the time Polly arrived.

  After leaving Heather with Darcie, Gail decided not to go to the diner for lunch. She was reluctant to bump into Blake Foster again. She wasn’t at all comfortable with the way he made her feel. Instead, she drove out to the hamburger place on the edge of town.

  The snow was melting from the lacy branches of the fir trees that surrounded the tiny ramshackle building. Large white clumps slid from the thawing needles and fell to the ground, where they shattered into tiny pieces.

  One of the powdery mounds thudded down almost at Gail’s feet as she crossed the parking lot to the restaurant. The jolt it gave her took her breath away. Her heart still pounded as she pulled open the door and went inside.

  Several people sat at the sparse tables, but although Gail scanned the entire room, she couldn’t see the dark head of Blake Foster. Wondering why she should expect to see him there, she mentally scolded herself for her overactive imagination.

  She kept an eye on the door while she ate, and although she saw nothing out of the ordinary, she couldn’t seem to lose the odd feeling that she was being watched. While pretending to study the menu, she scrutinized everyone in the place.

  Except for a gray-haired man who looked to be too frail to run for a bus, let alone harm her, no one else appeared to be paying the slightest attention to her. Nevertheless, she left some of her hamburger and most of the coffee in her hurry to leave there and return to the relative security of the bookstore.

  Polly looked up in surprise when Gail rushed through the door. “My, my,” she murmured, glancing up at the clock, “it’s nice to see someone so anxious to get back to work. You’ve still got ten minutes left of your lunch hour.”

  Gail pretended to be surprised. “I do? Ah, well, I can use it to check out the latest box of books and find out which ones I want to take home with me.”

  “You picked the right place to work, I must say. I’ve never known anyone who reads as much as you do.”

  “There’s not much else to do in the evenings after Annie goes to bed.”

  Polly poked her shoulder with a bony finger. “You never heard of television?”

  Gail moved away to hang up her coat. “I don’t watch much TV,” she said, glancing back at her over her shoulder. “The shows are either too violent or just plain silly. I—” She froze as the door suddenly opened behind Polly and a tall, forbidding figure stepped inside.

  “Hello again,” Blake Foster said pleasantly.

  Polly stared for a long moment at Gail, then turned to greet the customer. “Good afternoon, sir. Is there something I can help you with?”

  Blake Foster bestowed a heart-stopping smile on her. “Thank you, but this young lady helped me yesterday, and I’d like to deal with her again, if that’s all right with you?”

  Polly looked back at Gail with a gleam in her eye. “I guess you’re back from lunch now, aren’t you, honey?”

  Gail nodded weakly. “Of course.” She made herself walk forward, and even managed a smile. “Good afternoon, Mr. Foster. What can I do for you?”

  “Blake, remember?”

  She looked into his light gray eyes, and wondered why she’d ever thought they were cold. “Yes, of course... Blake.”

  “That’s better.” His smile dazzled her, and for a moment she forgot she was supposed to be waiting on him.

  “I was wondering if you had any more books on the area,”
Blake said, glancing at the bookshelves. “The one you recommended was excellent, but rather limited on the local history of the place.”

  Gail looked at him in surprise. “I didn’t realize you were interested in the history. If you’d said yesterday—”

  “Oh, I know, it’s my fault. I should have mentioned it.” He took a step toward her, and before she realized his intention, he’d taken her by the arm in a proprietary gesture and was leading her down the aisle, much to Polly’s obvious enjoyment.

  Furious with him for his familiarity, Gail pulled away from him. Her reaction to the warm grasp of his fingers on her arm had been predictable and immediate. “The history section,” she said coolly, “is the third shelf on the left. I’m sure you’ll find what you’re looking for there.”

  She turned on her heel and marched back to the counter, where Polly stood shaking her head at her.

  “You’re going to frighten him away with that scowl on your face,” Polly whispered fiercely. “If I were a few years younger, I’d be showing him every dang history book in the place.”

  “I told you,” Gail whispered back, “I’m not interested.”

  “Uh-huh.” Polly grinned. “Then how come you’re wearing a blush on your cheeks and a sparkle in your eyes? Come on, missy, you can’t fool old Polly. I’ve been around too long.”

  Gail was about to deliver an angry retort forming on her lips when from directly behind her, she heard Blake clear his throat.

  “I wonder if I might impose on you one more time?” he said, as she swung around to face him. “I don’t seem to be able to find what I want.”

  Gail pursed her lips. Blake Foster might be many things, but she was willing to bet that helpless wasn’t one of them. Polly, however, was nudging her none too discreetly in the back, and there didn’t seem much else she could do.

  With a cool nod in his direction, Gail led the way back to the history shelves. “What exactly are you looking for?” She started to pull books from the shelf. “A history of the mountains? Gold digging in the area? The silver mines, perhaps? How about a comprehensive guide to the geological outlay of the Cascades? Or a concise history of the Native Americans who first settled the area?”

  He smiled at her a little sheepishly. “All right, so I just wanted to get you away from Hawkeye over there. I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed our lunch yesterday.”

  Disarmed in spite of herself, Gail let out her breath. “Thank you. I enjoyed it, too.”

  “I was wondering if you’d care to have dinner with me tonight? They have an excellent dining room at the hotel, and I really would like to discuss the area. I’d like to take in some of the sights, and I’ve learned from experience that the locals know more about their hometown than any guidebook or map can tell me.”

  “I haven’t been here very long myself,” Gail said quickly, all her defenses springing back to alert. “I’m really not the right person to ask. Now Polly, however, can tell you anything you want to know. She’s lived here most of her life.”

  Blake pulled his face into a comical one-sided grimace. “No offense, but I’d much rather have dinner with you.”

  Gail lifted her chin. “I’m sorry, Mr. Foster, but I’m afraid I can’t. I have a daughter to take care of, if you remember.”

  He regarded her for a moment in silence. “No baby-sitter?”

  “No baby-sitter.”

  “I thought that’s where she goes in the afternoons.”

  Gail could feel a slight stirring of resentment. He was being a little too insistent. “I don’t like to leave her there any longer than I have to. My time with my child is important to me.”

  “Of course it is. I can understand that. Why don’t you bring her along? I’m sure we can find something on the menu she’d like.”

  Gail was starting to feel desperate. “Annie has to be in bed by eight,” she said sharply. “She needs her sleep.”

  Blake nodded. “I see. In that case, I guess I’ll have to eat alone again.” He reached out and plucked a book from her hand, although Gail could swear he hadn’t so much as glanced at the title. “If you should change your mind, Kate, I’ll be in the dining room around seven-thirty. I really hope you decide to come.”

  Her hands shook as she stuffed the rest of the books back on the shelf. She could feel his gaze on her when he followed her back to the counter. Polly, thankfully, had moved over to the discount table and was busily stacking books.

  Relieved to be putting the counter between them, Gail rang up the purchase and gave Blake the total. He handed her a bill, and at that moment, Gail caught Polly’s eye.

  The owner’s eyelid closed in a lecherous wink, and Gail fumbled the bill, dropping it on the floor. Crouching to retrieve it, she gave herself a mental shake. This was ridiculous. She would have to have a plain talk with Polly once Blake had left.

  She could feel her cheeks burning by the time she’d stuffed the bill into the drawer and counted out the change. She dropped the coins into his open palm, taking care not to touch him. She made the mistake of looking up at his face, and his smug smile flustered her even more.

  “I’ll be back,” he murmured, and for an instant she . thought it sounded almost like a threat. His affable expression, however, reassured her.

  “Enjoy the book,” she said automatically.

  “I’ll try.” With a nod at Polly, he left, letting the door close behind him.

  Watching him stride past the window, Gail could almost feel the emptiness left by his absence. She looked quickly at Polly, who was watching her with a knowing look on her face.

  “Yep,” Polly said with great satisfaction. “He got to you, all right. Why the heck didn’t you go ahead and say you’d have dinner with him?”

  Aware that their conversation had been overheard, Gail smothered her resentment. “I don’t have dinner with strangers,” she said crisply. “And you know why.”

  Polly shook her head. “You’ve got to get the danged past out of your mind.” She dusted her hands on her apron, as if to emphasize her point. “If your in-laws haven’t tracked you down yet, it’s a good bet they’re not going to. You’ve got to start trusting again, Kate, honey, or you’ll end up a lonely old woman, like me.”

  “You seem to be doing just fine.”

  “Maybe, but there’re plenty of cold nights I wish I had a warm body to curl up with.”

  “Then I’ll get a dog.”

  Polly sighed. “You’re just too stubborn for your own good,” she muttered good-naturedly. “One of these days you’re going to meet a man who’ll blast right through that thick hide of yours, and you won’t know what hit you. You mark my words.”

  Gail managed a smile. “Maybe. But I can promise you, it won’t be Blake Foster. Now I’d better get back to cataloging those trades that came in this morning.”

  She had barely started the job when another customer demanded her attention. After finding the book the elderly lady had asked for, Gail rang up the charge and handed her the purchase. The receipt book wasn’t lying in its usual place, Gail noticed, as she thanked the customer.

  After the woman had left, Gail searched the counter, then all the drawers. The receipt book had apparently vanished. Thinking that Polly might have taken it, Gail hurried to the back of the store, where the owner was busily stacking the children’s shelves.

  “Have you seen the receipt book?” Gail asked, when Polly peered down at her from halfway up the ladder.

  “It’s on the counter where you left it, isn’t it?” Polly climbed down and dusted her hands together. “At least, it was when I last saw it.”

  “Perhaps it fell on the floor and went under the counter.” Gail headed back to the front of the store. “I seem to be all fingers and thumbs today.”

  “Don’t you, though,” Polly said from behind her.

  Gail ignored her, dropping to her hands and knees to look under the counter. “It’s not here,” she announced, as she scrambled back to her feet.

  “D
idn’t that handsome hunk of yours buy a book on local history?”

  Gail started. “Yes, but what’s that got to do with...” Her voice trailed off as Polly reached over and plucked a book from a pile sitting on the counter.

  “Is this the book?”

  “Oh, Lord.” Gail ran a hand through her hair. “I must have given him the receipt book by mistake. They’re the same size and color and—”

  “And you were plum twisted inside out by his smile,” Polly said, grinning. “I can see how it happened.”

  “It was more likely from watching you pull all those faces at me.” Gail looked at the book in her hand in disgust. “I wonder if he’ll bring it back.”

  “If he even knows he’s got it. I got the impression he wasn’t real interested in reading that history book. He’ll most likely toss the bag aside and not even look in it.”

  “I guess I’ll have to go and get it, then,” Gail said, hoping feverishly that Polly would volunteer.

  “Good idea.” Polly looked up at the clock. “You can leave a half hour early and drop by the hotel on your way to pick up Annie.”

  There didn’t seem to be any way to get out of it, Gail thought, unable to suppress a little spasm of anticipation. She did her best not to think about it, but for the rest of the afternoon she found herself rehearsing over and over what she was going to say when she saw Blake. Foster again.

  By the time she was ready to leave the store, her stomach felt tied up in knots. Just in case, she called Darcie and warned her that she might be a little late. When she didn’t explain why, she could tell Darcie was eaten up with curiosity.

  “You want me to keep her for the night?” the baby-sitter asked. “I’ll be happy to if you’ve got a hot date.”

  Gail rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. Why was everyone in town doing their best to palm her off on some poor, unsuspecting male? “I do not have a date,” she said carefully. “This is business.”

  “Too bad. I was hoping you’d found yourself a new man.”