HIS TENDER TOUCH Page 2

  "If that's a roundabout way of asking if I live here, the answer is yes."

  "But you're not an employee."

  "You're the one doing the audit, Ms. Sussman—"

  "Audrey."

  "Audrey." A pause followed. "I rent one of the cabins out back. The roof has a leak, so I've temporarily moved down here."

  "Ah."

  A wavering light preceded footsteps down the hallway, and a moment later Hawk appeared. He came into the room and set the lantern down on the dresser.

  "The bath is two doors down that way." Hawk's gaze lit on Audrey, then slid to Gray. "Is there anything else you want?"

  Room service, she thought. And a nice steaming bowl of soup. "I suppose it's too late for something to eat. I'd be happy to ma—"

  "Like I said, we're closed. Ain't nothing much in the kitchen."

  So much for Western hospitality, Audrey thought. "So long as there is hot water and I can take a shower, I'll be fine." She didn't like it, but there was no point in complaining.

  "Hot water we have plenty of, thanks to a propane heater and an artesian well," Gray said. He looked at Hawk, opened his mouth as if to say something. Some silent communication passed between the two men, and Gray shrugged. He glanced at Audrey, then followed Hawk into the hallway and closed the door.

  Audrey stared at the closed door a moment, then at her watch. It was barely seven-thirty. She felt like a little kid who had been ushered off to bed. She dug through her purse and found a crumpled package containing a pair of crushed crackers and a couple of green-apple hard candies. Unwrapping one of the candies, she popped it in her mouth. Audrey looked around. The exterior shutters may have protected the windows, but they didn't keep away the sound of the storm. A wayward branch—she hoped it was a branch—brushed against the window in an uneven pattern, feeding her all too active imagination.

  The room was chilly. An empty fireplace in the corner about three feet off the pine floor appeared to be the only source of heat. But not a single stick of wood filled the tiled cubbyhole next to the fireplace. Above the cubbyhole was a pine panel, cut into an intricate design and stained the same dark shade as the floor. The area behind the panel was obviously hollow. She tried opening the panel like a cupboard door. It didn't budge.

  She stood on tiptoe, struggling to see into the dark cavern behind the panel, needing to dispel her impression of being watched.

  "This is stupid," she muttered under her breath. Obviously, it was storage for books or knickknacks or something. Too small for a person to hide back there. "Get a grip, girl!"

  She opened her suitcase and fished through it for her bathrobe and nightgown. A year ago, she would have loved to have a rainy night all to herself with nothing to do except read a good book—in fact, she had prayed for this kind of retreat. She loved mysteries, the dark, scary kind. The book in her suitcase, which had been so appealing when she bought it, held absolutely no allure now.

  Spurred into action by her undisciplined thoughts, she picked up her cosmetic case and headed for the bathroom. The shower warmed her, but failed to soothe her whirling thoughts. Her arrival had been nothing like she expected, but then nothing about this trip had made sense from the beginning.

  She still had no clear idea of what she was doing here. Without notice or explanation, her boss, Howard Lambert, pulled her off another project and told her he wanted her to audit Puma's Lair.

  She had worked for Lambert Enterprises long enough to recognize Howard's eccentric requests. This one topped the list, especially since Puma's Lair was his baby. He personally oversaw every detail.

  "Business isn't quite right," he had told her. "Money is disappearing that shouldn't. Go do an audit."

  She had seen no evidence to support his suspicions. If money was disappearing, he needed his CPA, not her. He had told her he trusted only her to find any irregularities. "What irregularities?" she had asked him. He hadn't known.

  The shower lived up to Gray's promise. There was plenty of hot water—enough to get her warm. If she could just solve the hunger pangs, things would be hunky-dory all around. She returned to her room, her stomach growling and her imagination focused on food.

  She unlocked the door and pushed it open. A savory aroma wafted through the air. A small fire crackled cheerfully in the hearth, chasing away the room's chill. A covered tray sat on the small table. She set down her cosmetic case and lifted the cover. A bowl of steaming chili and hot tortillas met her gaze. Her mouth watered, and she smiled.

  Unable to imagine the laconic Jacob Hawk having a change of heart, she decided her benefactor was probably Gray. Grateful, she sat down to eat. The chili tasted as good as it smelled.

  * * *

  The sound of men arguing brought Audrey wide awake some hours later. She lay with her head pressed against the pillow, listening, her heart pounding. An instant of disorientation was replaced with her realization that she was at Puma's Lair.

  The eerie whisper of wind in the hallway ebbed and flowed, masking the words. She sat up in bed and listened more intently. She slipped out of bed and opened the door a crack.

  "Just calm down. Everything is under control." She thought the voice sounded like Richard. Relief flowed through her so suddenly she had to admit she had been worried when he hadn't been here when she arrived.

  "We had a deal," Hawk said.

  "Nothing has changed there." It was Richard's voice. There was no mistaking his Southwestern drawl.

  Anxious to talk to someone she knew, she put on the navy silk robe on the end of her bed, opened the door and stepped into the hallway.

  It was empty. Only the dancing shadows from the flickering candle met her gaze. Beyond the wall-to-wall windows, the night was utterly black. An odd movement caught her eye, and she realized she was looking through another window at the end of the courtyard. Two men were walking down the hallway.

  Doubting they would have heard her if she called, she padded to the end of the passage, where it turned onto another corridor. The undulating shadows seemed to have a life of their own. A prickle of unease raised the hair on the back of her neck. More than ever, she needed to talk to someone familiar. Richard was a telephone acquaintance only, but for now, he would do.

  The adjoining hallway was empty, but their voices were more distinct once again.

  "It's got to," Hawk was saying. "We can't let Lambert walk away with everything."

  Lambert? Audrey mentally echoed. Walk away with what? A draft lifted the hem of her robe, and she shivered, wishing she had packed velour and flannel instead of silk.

  The voices faded again, and Audrey hurried to catch up. She came to yet another corner where the hallway took off in several different directions. She cocked her head, listening, trying to determine which of the empty corridors they had taken.

  A moment later, she heard them talking again, and she followed their voices along another expanse of floor-to-ceiling windows. The candles flickered wildly as a draft brushed down the hall. The floor tiles felt unbelievably cold against the soles of her feet, and she added slippers to the things she wished she had packed.

  She turned another corner, and the voices seemed to be coming toward her.

  "…need is anyone snooping around." The voice was Hawk's.

  "Lambert wouldn't—"

  "You've told me a dozen times that he'd sell his own mother to get what he wants."

  "And he'd have to be suspicious to send someone to…"

  "Spy?"

  "He insists this is a routine audit."

  Suddenly, Audrey felt someone behind her. She glanced over her shoulder just as a pair of arms came around her. A lurch of raw panic clawed through her, and she opened her mouth to cry out.

  A hand clamped over her mouth. In her ear, a nearly silent voice commanded, "Shh!"

  * * *

  Chapter 2

  « ^ »

  Be quiet? She would not! "Let go of me, you—"

  She pulled at the hand held against her mouth, furious
, angry tears burning at her eyes. The arm around her waist tightened, and as though she weighed nothing, she felt herself lifted off her feet.

  "Shut up!"

  She recognized Gray's voice as he backed into a niche that was even darker than the hallway, bringing her with him. His hand still pressed against her lips, he turned her toward the wall—a door, its texture smooth.

  Incensed at being manhandled, she jabbed backward with her elbow. With frightening ease, he captured both of her hands with one of his, using his weight to press her against the wall.

  "Be quiet," he whispered in her ear. "When you're snoopy, you hear things that you really don't want to know about. You should have stayed in your room, Audrey."

  His calling her by name accomplished what force hadn't. She stopped struggling, though to stop trembling would have been impossible.

  Against her, his body radiated heat, making her feel warm, except for her feet. His posture was intent, and she had the sense be was listening. As her body relaxed slightly, he loosened his hold on her. "Shh," he whispered again.

  In the next instant, she heard Richard's voice.

  "She'll do the audit for Lambert and she'll leave," he said. "I've talked to her numerous times. Doubt she'd know a potted plant from a corral."

  "And you're going to do nothing!"

  "If she gets in the way, I'll handle it."

  "We don't need this kind of scrutiny. Not now."

  "She'll find nothing out of the ordinary." Richard's voice sounded mere feet away. "And lower your voice. It's not like we're alone."

  Enveloped by Gray's heat, Audrey's heart pounded. Tension radiated from him, mirroring the sense of danger that thrummed through her.

  They passed by, Hawk still complaining. Evidently, the man could say more than three words at a time when he chose. The outright threats—directed toward her, for Pete's sake—shocked her. And for some reason, Gray had protected her. She could have blithely interrupted, or worse yet, let them see her eavesdropping. What were they talking about? It—whatever it was—validated Howard Lambert's suspicion something was wrong.

  Gray's hands held her hidden against the wall with no more force than necessary to keep her from moving. His head was bent, his cheek pressed against her hair. The feeling of danger faded, and she sighed as Gray's arms now felt protective rather than confining.

  Never had she been so aware of another person. His heat. The pressure of his body along the length of her back. The scent of soap on his hands. Swallowing, she forced herself to think. Gray had been right—this was something she didn't want to know about. But now that she did, what next?

  He removed his hand from her mouth. Against her ear, he whispered, "If I ask you to stay here and be quiet, will you do it?"

  "Why?" she asked, not sure at all what she was asking. Gray pressed his finger against her mouth, leaving behind a band of warmth. "I want to see where they've gone so we can get you safely back to your room."

  Without looking at him, she struggled to compose her thoughts. Instead, her awareness centered on him. Finally, she nodded.

  Gray slipped down the hall after Richard and Hawk.

  She peeked around the corner and watched him a moment, realizing she couldn't hear him at all. He moved as silently as a shadow. Earlier, she hadn't known he was even close to her until the instant he grabbed her. Now she sank against the wall at the rear of the vestibule and leaned her head back.

  She wrapped her arms around herself, cold once again. Slipping into the ordered mode of thinking that was automatic for her, she tried to make sense of what she had just heard. Business was business, separate from her personal life. Except this had become personal, and darned if she understood why.

  Richard evidently didn't think much of her, which surprised her. Their infrequent conversations had been friendly enough. Threats were the last thing she would have expected. An occasional power outage was as sinister as things got in her life. Until now.

  Audrey heard soft footfalls from the end of the hall. Gray, at last. She peeked out of the vestibule. Hawk strode toward her, his face devoid of expression, his black eyes riveted on her. She remembered too late that Gray's footsteps were soundless.

  "I was right," Hawk said. "You were here."

  "I'm looking for the kitchen," she stated, striving for a confident, calm tone. "I wanted to make a cup of tea."

  "I smelled you when I came past here a minute ago. He came to a stop in front of her, so close that he was crowding her.

  If she had been in the office back in Denver, she would have pushed her way past him. Instead, she found herself backing into the vestibule, annoyed with her lack of assertiveness. A silk nightgown and robe that left her shivering with cold weren't exactly a power suit.

  "You might as well start talking."

  "About what?" That much was true. She had no idea what to say.

  "Leave it to Lambert to send a woman to do his dirty work."

  "Dirty work?" She looked Hawk up and down. He glowered right back. "Sometimes it does take a woman to clean up. Such as recommending that staff be dismissed for being rude and uncooperative. Right now, though, I'm more interested in finding the kitchen so I can make a cup of tea."

  "What's going on here?" Gray interrupted conversationally from behind Hawk.

  Gray's uncanny silence again startled Audrey. She noticed that Hawk didn't so much as flinch.

  "She says she's looking for the kitchen."

  "And why wouldn't she be?" Gray responded. "I imagine she's hungry after being sent off to her room without any dinner." He brushed past Hawk and Audrey, then pushed open the door at the rear of the vestibule. "I thought I'd have a piece of that chocolate cake Mary Maktima baked this afternoon. Anyone care to join me?"

  Astounded the kitchen was close enough to give substance to her lie, Audrey nodded. "That sounds good."

  "You're a fool," Hawk said to Gray. "I know you're Richard's cousin, but—"

  "Cousins?" Audrey's gaze slid from Hawk to Gray.

  "Yeah," Gray confirmed, his expression unreadable. "My mom and Richard's are sisters." He moved into the room, struck a match and put it to the wick of a kerosene lantern that sat on an old-fashioned butcher-block table.

  The room was large. An array of pots and pans hung over a center worktable. Two oversize refrigerators stood side by side on the opposite wall, flanked by a stove on one wall and a set of big stainless-steel sinks on the other. With the ease of a man familiar with his surroundings, Gray found the cake and set it on the table. Audrey turned around and discovered that Hawk was gone. She faced Gray without moving into the kitchen.

  Cousins. And she had been so sure he was protecting her when he pulled her out of the hall. For all she knew, he had been protecting Richard or—

  "Were you serious about wanting some tea?" Gray asked.

  Or what? Surely Gray was the one who had brought her dinner. She eased her fingers into her hair and pressed the heel of her palm against her temple.

  "Headache?" he asked.

  "Some." She left the doorway, paused uncertainly next to the worktable, then perched on a stool. Her visits to Howard Lambert's various resorts were never like this. People were pleasant to her, treated her with courtesy and cooperation. Not as though she was the enemy. The thought made her shake her head in complete bewilderment. "None of this makes a bit of sense."

  "How's that?" He filled a teakettle with water and turned on a flame at one of the burners.

  "From the minute I got here, Hawk acted like he couldn't stand me." She propped her elbows on the table and watched Gray cut two large pieces of cake. "At least now I know why."

  "He's not as hard-nosed as he comes across."

  "And you're no better," she added. "Who were you protecting out there? Was it that you didn't want Richard to see me? Or that you didn't want me to see Richard?"

  Gray almost smiled. "Is there a difference in that?"

  "You know what I mean. And you're the one who brought me dinner, aren't
you?"

  He slid the cake in front of her and followed it a second later with a steaming cup of water accompanied by a small basket of assorted teas. "Is there a point to all your questions?"

  "I've … I thought Richard was…" She shook her head in frustration. "I don't know what I think."

  Gray sat down on a stool across the table from her, cut off a big piece of cake with his fork and put it in his mouth. Audrey watched as he slowly chewed, obviously savoring the flavor. He followed the bite with a long swallow of milk. Her gaze fastened on the bob of his Adam's apple and, a couple of inches lower, the fascinating fringe of dark hair that extended above the top button of his shirt. His sleeves were rolled partway up. The revealed skin was tanned, and the veins on the backs of his hands and tendons of his arms were pronounced.

  She shivered as she recalled the sensation of his hand against her mouth. He had smelled of soap, but mostly she remembered his warmth. Her palms grew damp, and a feather of yearning wound through her belly.

  She was losing her mind. Hormones. An awakening libido. That's all it was. After all, she had been thinking about that lately, wondering how to step into the dating scene. As an adult, it seemed a lot more difficult than it had as a teenager. Had she known then that she'd make it to nearly thirty and still be a virgin, she would have sown a lot more wild oats.

  She ought to have been frightened of Gray, she decided. She had been scared, but not of him. She hadn't liked being manhandled, but she admitted to herself she liked the feeling of his arms around her.

  Oh, yes.

  Pulling the tea bag out of the mug, she squeezed out the excess water and set it inside her spoon, then took a cautious sip, watching him over the rim of her cup.

  "I think," Gray said, "you're wondering what the hell you stumbled into."

  She met his gaze. His dark eyes studied her with that intent way he had.

  "I think you've probably never heard yourself talked about before, not like that, anyway. Hawk is the obvious bad guy. He was sullen when you arrived, and as you've figured out by now, he's not real thrilled to have you here." Gray took another bite of his cake. "How am I doin' so far?"