The Bravo Family Way Page 6

  “Cleo, how did you know I love books?”

  “Easy. The first time I saw you, you were reading The Funny Little Bunny to Olivia.”

  “That’s right. You come over to my house, okay? I’ll read to you.”

  Cleo was far too aware of Fletcher sitting across the big round table. She made the mistake of glancing his way. He was looking right at her.

  She met those haunting eyes and she felt it—that familiar heat burning beneath her skin. Her heart stuttered, then started racing….

  She tore her gaze from his and focused on Ashlyn again. “You’ll be going to my school soon, remember?”

  “Acourse I remember.”

  Cleo smoothed the silky brown hair. “You can read to me there, at school.”

  “Okay. I will.” Ashlyn grabbed her in another hug and planted a big wet kiss on her cheek. Then she returned to her chair and the pile of birthday presents still waiting to be opened.

  Ashlyn really was something, Cleo found herself thinking, so thoughtful and mature for her age. Fletcher’s daughter exclaimed over each gift as she opened it and seemed sincere in her excitement every time. She didn’t come across as spoiled in the least—and that was surprising. In Cleo’s experience, children of doting wealthy parents tended to get big attitudes early on.

  After the presents came the cake. They all sang the birthday song. Then Ashlyn made her wish and blew out her five candles in one breath. Olivia and another young woman worked together to serve up the cake, piling generous scoops of vanilla ice cream on top.

  It was five o’clock in no time. Cleo got another hug from Ashlyn and said a quick thank-you and goodbye to Fletcher and she was out of there.

  That night Danny asked her again if something was wrong. Again she told him there was nothing. She saw in his eyes that even he, so patient and always understanding, was growing tired of the way she avoided his touch.

  After he left, she lay awake much too late, hating herself for not treating him right, actually beginning to admit that the best and most honest thing to do would be to break things off with him.

  And no, she had no intention of getting anything started with…anyone else. But Danny was such a fine man. He deserved a woman who couldn’t keep her hands off him. Cleo wasn’t that woman. At least, not anymore.

  She had a while to think it over. Danny left town Sunday for two big car shows, one in Phoenix and a second in Southern California. He wouldn’t return until the fifteenth or sixteenth. By then, the new KinderWay should be open and operating. Things wouldn’t be so hectic. She would sit down with him and they would talk it out, come to a real understanding—one way or the other.

  The week sped by, as stressful, busy and exciting as the one before it. Cleo and Megan worked straight through the weekend.

  Their efforts paid off. On Monday, the fourteenth of February, KinderWay at Impresario opened its doors.

  Cleo had opted to spend that first morning going from classroom to classroom, checking out the various first-day welcoming activities, seeing that everything ran smoothly. She happened to be in the three-year-olds’ room when Celia Bravo dropped Davey off. She had her new baby with her.

  Cleo went straight for that baby. “I hear you’re calling her J.J.”

  Celia sighed. “I’m afraid so.”

  “May I…?”

  Celia beamed her a wide smile. “Absolutely.”

  So Cleo held out her hungry arms and Celia laid the warm bundle in them. Cleo gazed down at the bald pink head, the rosebud of a mouth and the tiny turned-up nose. “Beautiful…”

  “I think so,” Celia agreed. “But then, I am her mother.” Celia turned to kiss Davey goodbye, but her son was already occupied, playing blocks with a couple of the other kids. She cast Cleo a wry glance. “As you can see, he can’t get along without me.”

  “Looks like a well-adjusted boy to me.”

  “And I’m glad he is—but a big hug and a kiss goodbye would be nice.”

  Davey turned and waved. “’ Bye, Mommy. Come back and see me soon.”

  Cleo, who couldn’t bear to let go of that warm pink bundle just yet, suggested, “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

  They ran into Fletcher in the central breezeway that connected the classrooms. He’d just dropped Ashlyn off with the five-year-olds. He greeted Cleo and Celia and remarked that things seemed to be off to a great start.

  “So far, so good.” Cleo glanced up from J.J.’s sweet little face and into the eyes that haunted her dreams. Quickly she looked down at the baby again.

  Celia said, “Cleo got her hands on my baby and now she won’t let go.”

  Cleo laughed and smoothed the pink blanket, then stroked one plump and perfect little hand. “Oh, don’t I wish…” And then she made the mistake of glancing up a second time. Her laughter faded as her gaze locked with Fletcher’s.

  Trouble, she thought. I’m in big, big trouble here.

  She made herself turn to Celia. “I suppose I’m going to have to give her back to you….”

  Celia took the baby and they started for the nearest of the three gates that led out to the parking lot behind Hotel Impresario. Along the way they passed other parents with their kids. They waved and shared greetings as they went by.

  When they got to the gate, Fletcher put his hand on Cleo’s arm. She felt that touch far too acutely, as she’d felt every one of his touches since that first day they’d met. “I need a few minutes.”

  Carefully she pulled her arm free. “Sure.”

  “This is where J.J. and I came in.” Celia left them, taking the sidewalk around the KinderWay fence, heading toward the hotel. More parents with children approached the gate.

  Fletcher took her hand, capturing her fingers, wrapping them around his arm. “How about your office?”

  “All right.” And she let him lead her, as if she didn’t know the way, back through the gate and along the breezeway.

  She knew she should probably pull away again. But she didn’t. She kept thinking it shouldn’t matter as much as it did—the touch of his hand on hers, the feel of his warm, hard arm beneath the fine fabric of his suit jacket, the heat of his lean body so close to her side.

  They entered the main office. The new secretary, RaeAnne, smiled as they passed her desk. “Cleo. Mr. Bravo…”

  “We’ll just be a few minutes, RaeAnne,” Cleo said. “No calls or interruptions. Not unless there’s bleeding involved.”

  “Got it.”

  Cleo let go of Fletcher’s arm—and felt her heart contract at losing hold of him.

  No doubt about it. Trouble. Capital T.

  “This way.” She opened the door to her office and ushered him inside, gesturing at a guest chair. He sat and she went to her chair behind the beautiful desk he’d had built just for her. “Now,” she said, sounding brisk and businesslike and feeling anything but. “What’s up?”

  He studied her for a moment before he spoke. She felt his gaze as if it were a physical touch. At last he said, “You’ve done an amazing job with this project. I didn’t really believe you’d succeed in doing what you’ve done here—not in two and a half weeks, anyway.”

  She couldn’t resist reminding him, “I believe you chose the time frame.”

  He gave her one of those regal nods of his. “I did. I like setting impossible goals. They make people try harder. And you did.” Another regal nod, then he said, “Well done.”

  “Thank you.” So. He’d only taken her aside to give her a pat on the back for the work she’d done.

  That was good. She was pleased. He wasn’t putting any moves on her and she wanted it that way.

  Too bad she felt so let down.

  He asked, “Aren’t you glad now that I wouldn’t leave you alone until you agreed to go for it?”

  To her, the question had more than one level of meaning. She reminded herself not to go to those other levels. “Yes, I am. It’s worked out beautifully.”

  He slid a hand into the inside pocket of his suit
coat and produced a red leather jeweler’s box embossed with gold.

  Another gift.

  Well. So much for a purely professional pat on the back. Damn him. She had told him not to—

  “Don’t,” he said, as if she had spoken her objections aloud—which she hadn’t. Yet.

  “Fletcher, I asked you not to—”

  He raised his free hand for silence as he set the red box on her desk. “Open it.”

  “No.”

  Her refusal didn’t faze him in the least. “All right. I’ll open it for you.” He took the box again, raised the lid and set it down facing her so she could see what waited inside.

  A watch. White gold or maybe platinum, with a black alligator band. A small, oh-so-tasteful row of diamonds running down either side of the square face and the single word Cartier beneath the upper numerals. A go-anywhere watch. Gorgeous and simple and absolutely perfect.

  And very, very expensive.

  He explained, “It’s engraved on the back with the date and ‘KinderWay at Impresario’—and don’t look at me like that. Yes, it’s a gift. A strictly professional one. To commemorate a job much more than well done.”

  Strictly professional. Did she believe him?

  Yes. No. She didn’t know.

  She did know that the watch was beautiful and she had done a hell of a job in the past weeks and…yes, she wanted it.

  What did that make her? A professional justifiably proud of her latest accomplishment? Or a woman finally saying yes to a man’s slow, relentless seduction?

  Or both?

  The really scary thing was that it didn’t matter what it made her. Whether this gift was strictly professional or not, she was keeping it.

  Her doubts fell away. She knew at that moment that she would have to break up with Danny. And that someday soon Fletcher would ask her out to dinner again. And when he did, her answer would be yes.

  No qualifications. And no restrictions. Simply, completely, yes.

  She picked up the box and removed the watch, turning it over, reading the inscription, which was just what he’d said it would be. “Thank you,” she said for the second time. “It’s an important day and now I have something to remember it by.” She laid it over her wrist and caught the tiny diamond-studded buckle to clasp it.

  “Let me….”

  She started to refuse—and then stopped herself. What good would refusing him such a small thing do her? In the end, she would say yes to everything. She understood that now. And her intuition told her that the man across from her had always known, from that first day when she met with him in his office. He had always known…and he had been right.

  She extended her wrist to him.

  He stood. It took him only a moment to hook the delicate pin into the buckle. He held on a few seconds longer than necessary. “It looks good.”

  She met his eyes without wavering as those now-familiar sensations of heat and longing danced beneath her skin. “Yes. Thank you again.”

  With obvious reluctance, he released her. “And I have to go.” He waited for her to rise and come around the desk. When she did, he fell in behind her. It was only a few steps to the door.

  She felt him acutely at her back. She wanted him. She’d tried to deny it, but the wanting did not go away. So she was yielding to it, finally, her capitulation at last complete—so much so that she almost stopped in midstep and turned to him and…

  No.

  Not here. And not now.

  She had come to the point where she realized what was bound to happen, where she even accepted it. But not today, not in her office. And most important, not until she’d talked to Danny and told him goodbye.

  Still, she simply couldn’t resist turning back to Fletcher as she opened the door to the outer room. “I am glad,” she conceded. “That you kept after me. That it’s worked out so well.”

  He took a long time to answer—sizzling, delicious seconds during which heat shimmered in their shared glance. “I’m pleased, too. Very much so,” he said at last, and they both knew he referred to more than KinderWay.

  She leaned back against the open door and allowed it to happen—for one more sweet, seductive moment before he left her, to get lost in his beautiful, dangerous eyes.

  Then, with a slow sigh, she turned back toward the outer room. And blinked in guilty horror at what she saw.

  Danny.

  He was sitting on the sofa against the wall opposite RaeAnne’s desk with a heart-shaped box of candy in his lap.

  “You have a visitor,” said RaeAnne.

  Danny took the box of candy in his beefy hand and stood. “Hey. Got home early.” His soft, dark eyes took it all in: Cleo standing stunned in the doorway and the tall, commanding, beautifully dressed man behind her. “Thought I’d drop by and see how things are goin’.”

  Chapter Six

  Danny understood in an instant what Cleo had refused to accept for nearly a month. He kept it calm and low-key, shaking Fletcher’s hand when Cleo introduced them, even smiling that sweet, open smile of his. The two men exchanged a few quick words of greeting and then Fletcher took his leave.

  Danny followed her into her office, but he didn’t sit down. The minute she shut the door, he set the box of candy on the credenza and said, “I think we really gotta talk.”

  “Of course. Danny, I—”

  He put up a hand. “Not here, okay?” She swallowed and nodded. “I’ll be over tonight. Eight o’clock.”

  What could she say? Nothing. Except, “I’ll be there, Danny.”

  “All right, then.” He left without another word.

  She took the box of candy out to RaeAnne and told her to share it with the staff. Cleo didn’t eat a single piece herself. She couldn’t.

  Her doorbell rang at eight exactly. Danny looked so somber when she let him in.

  She offered, “Are you hungry? I could…” She didn’t know how to finish. His expression broke her heart. It was infinitely gentle and much too wise.

  “I didn’t come here to eat and I think you know that.”

  So she led him to the living room. He took the easy chair and she perched on the edge of the couch.

  He got right down to it. “Since that night I came for dinner and saw that little blue box—the one you wouldn’t open—I been getting the picture, getting the feeling there was someone else. I kind of figured it might be the guy who sent you that box, might be Fletcher Bravo—and it is, isn’t it? I knew it today, when you two came out of your office….” He seemed to run out of words. In the silence he just looked at her, waiting for her to answer him.

  She felt about two inches tall. “Danny, I swear to you, I never went behind your back. Not with anyone. I would never do something like that.”

  “I know you wouldn’t.” He gave her the kindest, most tender little smile and she wanted to cry then, just bawl her eyes out. But she held the tears back. After all, she wasn’t the injured party here. “You’re not that kind of woman,” he said. “And I know that you loved me— or at least, you thought that you did.”

  “Danny, no. I did love…” She cut herself off. She couldn’t go on, not with the way he was looking at her, both knowing and disbelieving at once.

  He shook his head. “I always knew that you wanted to love me, that I’m the kind of guy you think will be good for you, the kind of guy you’re gonna feel safe with. The kind of guy who’s nothing like the high rollers and big shots who messed your mom over so many times. And you know what? That was enough for me, to be the one you could count on, to be the guy you could trust, until…well, until now. Until I saw you today with a guy you’re crazy for.”

  She longed to argue, to stand up and say, No, Danny. I’m not crazy for Fletcher. Not in the least.

  Too bad she couldn’t get her mouth around such an enormous lie.

  Danny said, “You been pulling away from me for weeks. You been tired every time I touch you. You know that you have.”

  “I know. I’m so sorry….” She fe
lt like a total creep, too awful to look him straight in the eye. She dropped her gaze.

  He got up from his chair and came to stand over her. “Hey.”

  She tipped her head back and made herself meet those kind eyes and realized that it wouldn’t be right, wouldn’t be fair, to keep saying how sorry she was. Sorry just didn’t cut it. She swallowed and sat up a little bit straighter and said with real regret, “I’ll miss you, Danny.”

  “And I’ll miss you. But Cleo, the way you looked at that guy…”

  She swallowed. Hard. “Yeah. I know.”

  He pointed at her wrist. “He give you that watch?”

  “Yes. Today.”

  “And you took it.”

  “Yes, Danny. I did.”

  “I think you’re in love with him. Are you?”

  “Oh, Danny…”

  “You know what? Don’t tell me. I don’t need to know.”

  And that was it. There was nothing more to say except, “I’d better get your things….”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets, lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “Yeah. Okay.”

  So she got up and went to collect his spare razor and toothbrush from the bathroom, his blue windbreaker from the hall closet. “I think this is all of it.” She handed everything over.

  “Thanks.”

  She opened the door for him and closed it quietly as soon as he had stepped through.

  And then she returned to the living room and sat down on the sofa and couldn’t believe what she had just done. She’d said goodbye to Danny, her best friend, the man she had been so certain would one day be her husband and the father of her children. Danny, the exact right man for her, good and honest and true.

  She sat there alone on her sofa and wondered which was worse: that she’d lost the sweetest guy she’d ever known, that she was actually relieved that Danny ended it—or that Danny was right. Somehow she’d gone and let herself fall for Fletcher Bravo, a man who was everything she’d sworn never to fall for.

  It occurred to her that maybe she was more like her mother than she’d ever let herself admit. Now there was a seriously scary idea. It wasn’t as if all the hard lessons had faded from her mind. Uh-uh, they were with her, still fresh and vivid and full of pain.