Fire Brand. Diana Palmer

The waiter smiled and left.

      “Well?” she prompted, her eyes anticipating with delight the fresh slices of avocado and the sour cream topping her enormous taco salad in its crispy shell.

      “I want you to take a vacation.”

      She stared at him blankly. “A what?”

      “A vacation. It’s May. You didn’t take one at Christmas. You could take it now.”

      “I’m sure you’re going to want me to spend it at Casa Río,” she murmured. She sighed. “Aggie and a man—my gosh.” She looked up, and now she was feeling some concern of her own. “He must be some fast worker if he’s gotten her this involved this quickly.”

      “I know. That’s why I’m worried. If I didn’t have this project under way in Calgary, I’d camp down there myself. You know Aggie never minds if we come to stay, or how long for.” He glowered at the tablecloth. “Why can’t she stay home and start a business, or something constructive? Why hare off to the Caribbean and drag strange men home with her?”

      Gaby almost grinned, but it was pretty serious. Aggie hadn’t dated anybody, except for a friendly dinner now and again with couples from the construction firm, who thoughtfully provided single men for her inspection. That hadn’t worked. Aggie was still a dish at fifty-six, and her short black hair was only flecked with silver. She had a nice figure. Gaby’s eyes narrowed. Aggie had been alone a long time; perhaps being flattered and escorted had played on her loneliness. She thought about some faceless man playing her adopted mother for a fool and got madder by the minute.

      “I’ll go see Johnny Blake first thing in the morning,” Gaby murmured. “I’ll ask Aggie if I can stay a couple of weeks.” She looked up. “What if she says no?”

      “When has she ever said no?” he asked testily, his black eyes questioning hers. “I don’t know how we can stop her, but we can certainly slow her down if she’s serious. In the meantime, we’ll find out what we can about her beau.”

      “He could be on the level...” she murmured thoughtfully, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt for Aggie’s sake. If Aggie was really smitten, this could prove to be a nightmare for everyone concerned. Trying to dissuade a determined woman was difficult at best, and Aggie had a temper that would match even Bowie’s when she was aroused.

      “He could be anything or anyone,” Bowie countered. “Con men prey on women her age. It’s nothing against her,” he added when Gaby opened her mouth to protest the insinuation. “You have to admit that this is unusual behavior for her. She’s been loyal to my father’s memory for a long time.”

      That was true. Gaby’s mind conjured up a picture of big, blustering Copeland McCayde, Aggie’s exact opposite in every way. He’d been rather domineering and not very affectionate, but Aggie seemed to have loved him dearly.

      “People aren’t responsible when they’re in love,” Bowie said.

      She studied him. “Are you speaking from experience?”

      He lifted his eyes to hers, catching her startled expression. “What do you think?” he asked levelly. When she turned her head, he added, “You can surely see how a woman could get in over her head—especially a lonely woman with no social life to speak of.”

      The way he was looking at her made her uneasy. “We are talking about Aggie, aren’t we?” she asked hesitantly.

      “Of course.” But he smiled in a way she’d never seen him smile. Her heart jumped. “I imagine just having you around will be more than enough of a deterrent,” he said easily. He lifted his fork. “Eat that before it gets cold.”

      She glowered at him. The taco salad was delicious, warm and spicy in its nest of shredded lettuce and cheese with the cool tomato garnish, and just enough. By the time she reached the layer of refried beans at the bottom, it was all she could do to eat half of them.

      “No appetite?” he remarked dryly, polishing off the last of his steak and most of the bread.

      “I’m not half your size,” she replied. “If I ate what you did, I’d have to be carried out of here on a fork lift.”

      “I’m not that heavy,” he said.

      “I didn’t say you were heavy. You’re big.” Her eyes slid shyly over his broad shoulders and chest. “I’ll bet most of your men don’t argue with you.”

      “One or two try occasionally,” he mused.

      “And become little greasy spots on the pavement,” she concluded.

      He laughed deeply, his black eyes losing some of their cold glitter. “Construction people are pretty tough, as a rule,” he reminded her. “They’ll only work for a man they respect. Pretty words don’t put up buildings.”

      “You’ve put up your share. I remember when I was still in my teens that you used to go out on the construction gangs with the men when you got behind on a contract.”

      “I’d die sitting behind a desk all the time,” he agreed. “I like the outdoors.”

      It showed. He was brawny and rock-hard, and his tan didn’t stop at his neck. Gaby had seen him without a shirt more than once, and knew that that dark tan went right to his belt, and probably below it. She flushed, remembering the rough texture of his skin, the feathering of hair down his broad chest and flat stomach. What a time to have total recall, she thought frantically.

      He saw that hunted expression on her face and wondered idly what had caused it. She was something of a curiosity in his life. He didn’t know exactly how he felt about her, but she was definitely a disturbing influence.

      “Well?” he asked curtly.

      She jumped, gasping.

      “For God’s sake,” he said harshly. “What’s the matter with you?”

      She flinched at his tone. She couldn’t bear a loud voice, and of course, he was used to construction gangs and slinging out orders right and left. “It’s the shooting,” she lied. “I’m still shaky.”

      That calmed him down magically. “Proof that you need some time off,” he said, because it reinforced his demand.

      “Okay,” she said quickly. “I’ll try to keep the lovebirds in line.”

      “Good. How about dessert?”

      The beast, she thought, observing him. He’d gotten his own way, as usual, and he was feeling smug. She hated that arrogance in his face, but she’d never seen anyone relieve him of it.

      “I don’t like sweets,” she said.

      “Pity. I do.” And to prove it, he ordered the biggest strawberry shortcake she’d ever seen and proceeded to demolish it to the last crumb.

      He drove her back to her apartment. It wasn’t until he’d walked her to her door that she remembered Mary’s engagement party.

      “I forgot about Mary’s party!” she blurted out.

      “Who’s Mary?” He frowned.

      “A girl I’m friendly with at work. She’s just gotten engaged. There’s a party, and I’m supposed to be there.”

      “Do you want to go?”

      She sighed. “Not really, but I should. I’ll...”

      “Come on, then. It’s early. You can still go.”

      She hesitated. “With you?” she asked, her voice softer than she realized.

      He stopped and looked down at her, aware of a faint shift in their turbulent relationship. “Yes,” he said quietly. “With me.”

      Her breath had stopped somewhere south of her windpipe. She felt the ground going out from under her. She didn’t understand what was happening, and it was a little