Thrill Me. Сьюзен Мэллери

perfume. Although he guessed that could be different now.

      She’d changed just enough to be intriguing, he thought. The line of her jaw was tighter. Her walk a bit more determined. He didn’t know what she’d been through over the past ten years, but whatever it was had honed her.

      She probably saw differences in him, too, but he found those less interesting. He knew what had happened to him. None of it was especially compelling.

      He turned and looked into her green eyes. Ten years ago he would have sworn that he would never forgive her for what she’d said. For how she’d rejected him. For lying. Now he searched for residual anger or resentment and there wasn’t any. They’d both been gone too long for any of that to matter.

      She was a beautiful woman. Under other circumstances, he might have been tempted. But while he could forgive and move on, he wasn’t going to give her a second chance. Not when he knew she hadn’t told him the truth. She had said that she loved him and wanted to marry him, but it had all been a lie. Still, they were going to work together. It made sense to be friends.

      “Want to have dinner?” he asked.

      She blinked. “There’s a shift in topic. Now?”

      “Sure. We can go to the store and grab a couple of steaks. Barbecue them here. There’s a communal grill by the lake. You in?”

      She gave him a slow, sexy smile that hit him like a fist to the gut.

      “I’m in.”

      They rose and walked toward the front door.

      “Wait,” she said, and ran back for her tablet, then tucked it in her tote. “I can’t let my technology out of my sight.”

      He nodded, because it was still too difficult to breathe, let alone speak.

      He knew what that fist to the gut meant and he planned on completely ignoring the message. He was willing to forget the past, to work with Maya and even to be her friend. But he was never going to allow himself to be tempted by her. Not now, not ever.

      Been there, done that and bought the T-shirt. He was a guy who looked forward. To something new. And that didn’t include her. Once his mind was made up, Del refused to be swayed. There was no way he was going to let Maya get to him.

      * * *

      MAYA PUT THE green salad on the table Del had carried from the kitchen to the grassy area on the side of the cabin. From there they had a clear view of the lake. Because of how the other cabins were spaced, that side of his place was relatively private. They could hear the other families, but not see them or be seen.

      Under other circumstances, she would have thought the setting romantic, but she knew better. She and Del were collaborating together. This was a working relationship, which she appreciated. They were both professionals. They respected each other’s abilities. If she found him handsome and appealing, well, that was nice, but not helpful. Or useful. Friendship was much better. Or at the very least, safer.

      She returned to the kitchen for the bottle of red wine they’d purchased, along with the deli potato salad. She collected two glasses and went back out just as Del called that the steaks were done.

      They met at the table and each took a chair. He used the jumbo tongs to put her steak on her plate while she poured wine. Music drifted out from one of the cabins, and down by the water, several children shrieked and laughed.

      “There’s a lot of humanity around here,” she said as she passed him the green salad.

      “I like it. Being around kids is fun. They always have the most interesting questions and so much curiosity about what life is like everywhere. That’s what I got asked the most when I traveled. Is America really like the movies?” He grinned. “That and if Wolverine was real.”

      “What did you say?”

      “That he was one of the good guys.”

      She laughed. “I didn’t know the two of you were close.”

      “I don’t like to talk about it.”

      “Fool’s Gold must seem so small,” she murmured, and cut into her steak. “How do you stand being away from your bromance?”

      “He texts me all the time. Sometimes it gets annoying.”

      She nodded. “I can imagine. Speaking of famous people, have you seen your dad?”

      “Killjoy.”

      “Should I take that as a yes?”

      Del leaned back in his chair. “I stopped by the house and saw both my parents. My father wanted to talk about Nick wasting his talent.”

      Maya remembered how Ceallach had always preferred the three younger sons. The ones who took after him. “I suppose there’s some comfort in consistency.”

      “That’s the optimist in you. I prefer to think of my father as...” He reached for his glass. “No reason to go there.” He sipped. “Yes, I saw my father and he seems well.” He glanced at her. “Are you going to be helping my mom with the plans for my dad’s party?”

      “I’ve offered. Why?”

      “Because it’s a lot for her to do on her own.”

      “You could take care of some of it.”

      “I’ll do my best, but you know halfway through, she’ll take it all away from me and explain how she can do it better.”

      Maya sighed. “Yes, she will. Elaine does like to maintain control over every situation.”

      “So do you.”

      “I wish. I gave up control a long time ago. A hazard of the job. There are a million things that can go wrong on any given story and I’ve had to deal with them all.”

      “Is that why you left television?”

      “Partly. I left because I was tired of beating my head against a wall that was never going to give way.” She frowned. “Is that what’s supposed to happen? The wall gives way? You break through. Man, I hate it when I don’t think through a cliché.”

      He grinned at her. “Good to know you’re not perfect.”

      “I’m far from that.”

      Miles, she thought. Miles and miles. Although being with Del was nice. More comfortable than she would have thought. He’d always been easy on the eyes, but she’d thought there might be some tension between them. Because of how things had ended.

      Apparently not. Here they were, having dinner as if they were old friends. She took a bite of steak. Maybe they were. Maybe they’d both moved on enough that the past didn’t matter.

      “There’s no Mr. Farlow?” he asked, the question unexpected.

      “Uh, no. What about you?”

      “No Mr. Mitchell,” he said, his eyes bright with amusement.

      She groaned. “You know what I mean.”

      “Hey, my romantic life was public knowledge.”

      It had been, she thought. “That kind of comes with being semifamous and then dating a beautiful figure skater,” she said gently.

      “Semifamous.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “Way to go for the kill shot.”

      She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You know what I mean. You were known, but not a tabloid regular. Plus, you’re not interested in fame.”

      “You sure about that?”

      She studied him for a second, then nodded. “Absolutely.”

      He picked up his wine. “You’re right. I never liked that part of dating Hyacinth. There were choices made to put us more in the public eye. I didn’t love those, either.” He shrugged. “Relationships