Risking It All.... Yvonne Lindsay

stepped out onto what felt like shaky ground. At least now that she had her car back, she could go buy some more sensible clothes and book a room somewhere else. This time she might ask some pointed questions about fire safety. She didn’t know what would have happened if the motel hadn’t been equipped with alarms.

      “I made us a reservation for lunch here.”

      “What?” She glanced at the restaurant, which—with hanging baskets of lush flowers and elegant striped awnings—looked upscale and expensive. “No! I couldn’t possibly. I need to go buy some...toiletries, and clothes. And I want to get more work done back at the office today.”

      The last thing she needed was to sit opposite John Fairweather over a delicious meal. She’d surely lose the last shreds of her sanity. And really, he had quite a nerve even suggesting it. She should report his behavior to her BIA contact.

      Except maybe she’d leave out the part about the kiss.

      She climbed into her car and put her bag on the seat next to her. The new key started the engine perfectly, and the brakes screeched slightly as she reversed out of her space too fast. She turned and headed for the exit. It wasn’t until she saw John—in the rearview mirror—staring after her that she realized how rude she’d just been.

      He was smiling slightly, as if he found the situation funny.

      Which made her speed away even faster.

      * * *

      Safely ensconced at the desk in her new room at the Holiday Inn, Constance called her boss’s office to let her know why she’d had to move, and ended up speaking to her friend Lynn, the office receptionist.

      “It’s a bummer that you live with your parents. I wonder if you can claim the loss on their homeowner’s insurance.”

      “I doubt they have any. Their insurance is faith in God. Even if they did, filing a claim would raise the premium.”

      “If the motel doesn’t offer compensation you could sue.”

      “I’d never do that.”

      “You’re too much like your parents. Living in the wrong century.”

      “I happen to like this century.”

      Lynn laughed. “Okay, okay. So how is it going with John Fairweather? Is he as gorgeous as he looks on the internet?”

      Constance shifted in her chair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

      “I know you like to pretend you’re a nun, but I’m sure you can tell whether a man is good-looking or not.”

      “He’s okay looking, I guess.” That stupid smile inched across her lips again. Thank goodness no one was here to see it.

      “So, how old is he?”

      “Early thirties, maybe?”

      “That’s not too old for you.”

      “Lynn! What on earth would make you think he and I have anything in common?” They didn’t. Nothing. She’d thought about it on the drive over here.

      “You’re both human. Both single. And you’re very pretty, Constance, though you do your best to hide it.”

      “Would you stop?” She pushed her glasses up her nose. Was she really pretty enough to attract the interest of John Fairweather? It didn’t seem possible.

      “I’m just excited that you’re away from your parents’ overly watchful and critical gaze. You need to make the most of it.”

      “I’ve been quite busy getting burned out of my motel room and trying to go through the New Dawn’s paperwork.”

      “All work and no play makes—”

      “I’m already dull, and quite happy that way.” At least she had been until last night. Suddenly her mind kept churning with odd ideas. That kiss had started something. She kept thinking about it. Feeling his lips on hers. Feeling his arms around her.

      Obviously she had to make sure that didn’t happen again, but she could kiss someone else, couldn’t she? “Maybe I should join one of those dating services when I get back.”

      “What!” Lynn’s stunned response showed that she’d revealed way too much. Now she couldn’t even remember how she’d led up to that. “You’re finally coming to your senses? It’s him, isn’t it? Those smoldering dark eyes. Those powerful broad shoulders. I know you’re far too principled to be attracted to his money, so it must be his looks.”

      “Nonsense. He’s very intelligent. Nice, too.” She froze, realizing that she’d just proved that she liked him.

      Silence greeted her on the other end. “Really?” said Lynn slowly.

      “Well, I don’t know. I only met him yesterday. He’s probably just being polite so I won’t delve too far into his books.”

      “I wouldn’t blame him. I shouldn’t be kidding around like this, though. He does have a reputation as a lothario. I want you to spread your wings, but don’t fly right into a fox’s den.”

      “One minute you’re encouraging me and the next you’re telling me to back off. It’s lucky I have no interest in anything except the books here.”

      “I can’t believe I suddenly feel like I have to warn you off having an affair with John Fairweather.”

      “I can’t believe it, either.” And I also can’t believe how much I need warning off! “Obviously you’ve forgotten that I’m the same Constance Allen who’s only ever dated one man.”

      “Well, as soon as you get home I’m going to make sure you start dating someone new. When do you get back here, anyway?”

      “It’ll probably take a week or so. The BIA said I can request more time if I need it. It all depends on what I find.”

      “I hope you find something. That’s always good for business.”

      “You’re actually hoping that a crime is in progress?” Constance’s gut clenched at the possibility. “I’m hoping that everything checks out fine. Then I can get out of here as soon as possible.” And preserve what was left of her dignity.

       Four

      She picked up a couple of suits and blouses and a pair of shoes at a local Macy’s. It was nearly four by the time she made it back to New Dawn to go over the books. Her eyes darted about, on high alert for any signs of John Fairweather. But she didn’t see his imposing form anywhere. He wasn’t in the lobby or the elevator. Or leaning over someone’s cubicle on the office floor.

      He also wasn’t in his office, where she sat at the round table, which was inconveniently at coffee table height, and resumed her journey through the files. Where was he? He might be angry that she’d blown him off at lunch. Still, he needed to realize that she was here to do a job, and they’d already spent way too much time together. It would probably be more appropriate to the situation if they weren’t interacting at all. On the other hand, her BIA contact had said that often the best information came during an inadvertent slip in casual conversation, so she should spend as much time as possible with the tribal members.

      She shook her head. This whole situation was far too confusing for her. Just the fact that Lynn could encourage her one minute and warn her off the next proved that nothing about it made sense. She’d rather be surrounded by quiet and predictable columns of figures.

      Which, supposedly, she was right now. Unfortunately the atmosphere vibrated with the absence of John Fairweather.

      Constance stayed until seven-thirty and pored over the files he’d shown her and plenty he hadn’t. Nothing aroused her suspicion. If anything, John’s accounting methods were somewhat redundant