Some Kind of Hero. Brenda HarlenЧитать онлайн книгу.
with me tonight?”
Riane shook her head. She’d agreed to play tour guide for him to prove that she was her own person—and to prove to herself that she was immune to whatever chemistry she thought existed between them. Her reaction to his unexpected appearance at the camp today proved otherwise. She wasn’t immune at all.
She’d never believed in chemistry or destiny or any other such nonsense. But the more time she spent with Joel, the more she found herself questioning her beliefs. Rational or not—and she was pretty sure it was not—she was attracted to Joel Logan. Which was why she was determined to keep her distance from him as much as possible. She may have already committed herself to showing him around the following day, but that was going to be the extent of her involvement.
“Do you have other plans for dinner?” Joel’s question interrupted her meandering thoughts.
“Yes.”
“With the fiancé?” Joel prompted.
“No.”
Joel didn’t take the hint. “What are you doing?”
“Not that it’s any of your business,” Riane said, “but I told Sophie I’d be home to eat.”
“What’s she making?”
“Pot roast.”
“Sounds better than anything room service has to offer,” Joel said hopefully.
“I’m not inviting you to my house for dinner.” Although there was a part of her that wanted to do just that. She was intrigued by this man who’d appeared in her life seemingly from nowhere. She wanted to spend time with him, to get to know him. All she really knew was that he was a former cop who lived in Fairweather, Pennsylvania. These sparse details didn’t begin to satisfy her curiosity.
Despite her curiosity, though, she was afraid. Not of Joel, but of her own responses to him. And it was this fear that held her back.
“Please.”
She sighed again. Although she knew it could be dangerous to spend more time with him, they wouldn’t be alone together. Sophie would be there.
So she relented, not entirely unwillingly, to his request. “Dinner will be on the table at seven o’clock.”
Chapter 4
At precisely seven o’clock, Riane found herself seated across from Joel at the gleaming mahogany table in the Quinlan dining room. On her way home from the camp, she’d called Sophie to tell her Joel would be coming for dinner, and Sophie had set the table with the best china, sparkling crystal and gleaming silver. As if that wasn’t enough, she’d added long, slender candles in antique holders and opened a bottle of Riane’s favorite merlot.
It was obvious, at least to Riane, that Sophie was setting the scene for romance. But Riane wasn’t looking for romance—not with anyone, and especially not with Joel Logan.
Still, that wasn’t the worst of the housekeeper’s betrayal. Worse, far worse, in Riane’s mind, was that Sophie had set the table for two. Sophie usually took her meals with the family, but tonight she’d begged off, leaving Riane to dine alone with Joel—the exact scenario Riane had been confident she could avoid by inviting him to the house.
“That was the best pot roast I’ve ever had,” Joel told Sophie when she came to take their empty plates away.
Sophie beamed at him as though he was a favorite child. “Are you sure I can’t offer you another helping?”
“I’m sure,” Joel said. “I’ve already had seconds.”
“Then I’ll leave the two of you to finish up your wine before I bring out dessert,” Sophie said, slipping out of the room as quickly and quietly as she’d slipped in.
“I’m glad you invited me for dinner,” Joel said to Riane.
“You invited yourself,” she reminded him.
“And you very graciously didn’t withdraw the invitation.”
Riane felt a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. They both knew there had been nothing gracious about her response.
“Don’t do that,” Joel warned.
The blossoming smile faded. “Don’t do what?”
“Smile. If you do, you might have to admit that you don’t detest my company as much as you want to, sweetheart.”
“If I really disliked your company, I wouldn’t be in it.”
“But you’re not entirely comfortable with me,” he noted.
“Why is that?”
She sighed and pushed away from the table. He stood, too, and followed her to the enormous arched window that overlooked the backyard.
“Because I don’t know anything about you. Every time I ask a question about what you do or why you’re in town, you evade or mislead or redirect the conversation. For all I know, you could be a tabloid reporter or a con man or—”
“A private investigator,” he interjected.
“What?”
“I’m a private investigator.”
“Oh.” She took a minute to absorb that tidbit of information. “Why are you in Mapleview?”
He hesitated.
“Are you going to evade, mislead or redirect this time?”
He smiled, and Riane felt her heart skip a beat.
“I’m thinking about how to answer without revealing any confidential information.”
She took a sip of wine, waiting.
“I’m looking for someone,” he said at last. “A potential witness to a case I’m working on.”
“Oh,” she said again. “Why couldn’t you tell me that the other night?”
His lips curved again and his eyes were dark, intense as they pinned her with a look that caused her blood to heat. “I wasn’t thinking about business when I was with you.”
It was a smooth response, and evasive. Again. She shook her head. It shouldn’t matter. It didn’t matter. Joel Logan was none of her concern. As soon as he finished whatever business had brought him to town, he would be gone, out of her life forever. Except that she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that his business would somehow affect her.
“Why were you at the charity ball?”
His hesitation seemed answer enough.
“You’re looking for someone I know.”
“I’m following a lead,” he admitted.
“Is it someone who’s involved with my camp?” She sent up a silent but fervent prayer that the answer would be no. She couldn’t bear to think of anything negative impacting her camp and the children who so desperately needed it.
“It has nothing to do with your camp,” Joel assured her.
Riane wanted to believe him, but—
“I promise.” He interrupted her thoughts with his softly spoken vow. “I know I should have told you, but my interest in you seems to have taken precedence over the case I’m working on.”
“I thought your interest in me was solely as your tour guide.”
“I lied,” he said easily.
Riane lifted an eyebrow.
“Would you have agreed to spend tomorrow with me if I’d admitted I had designs on your body?”
“I can still change my mind.”
“You won’t. You’re