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“Uh-oh. What happened?” the woman asked as she hurried down the steps.
At the moment, Tamryn’s main concern was getting off the bike without flashing her goodies to the world. She hiked her skirt up and quickly slipped off, pushing her skirt down as soon as her feet touched the ground.
“A busted radiator on my rental car,” she answered. She pulled off the helmet and handed it to Matt. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he answered. The sudden lower pitch to his voice was not helping in her quest to keep the tingles at bay.
“Sorry about the car trouble,” the other woman said. “Not a good way to start your vacation.” She held her hand out. “I’m Phylicia, by the way. We talked on the phone the other day.”
“Oh, yes. I’m Tamryn,” she said, shaking the woman’s outstretched hand.
“I figured. All of our other guests have already checked in. Let’s get you inside. I just made a pitcher of lemonade. Matt, you want any?”
They both looked back at Matt, who was still on the motorcycle. Tamryn was momentarily stunned by the power he exuded, his firm thighs braced apart as he steadied himself on the bike.
Instead of getting off, he put on the helmet Tamryn had just handed him and secured the chin strap. “I’ll go back and get her bags,” he said.
“That’s really not necessary,” she told him. “I can drive back to get them once the rental company brings me a replacement car.”
“Or I can send Jamal,” Phylicia suggested. “He’s at his office in New Orleans, but should be getting home soon.”
“I already know where the car is,” Matt said. He held his hand out to her. “Keys?”
“Are you sure?” Tamryn asked him.
“Very sure,” he answered. “Let me have your keys.”
His eyes were the only part of his face visible from behind the helmet and lower face shield, but she could tell by the way they crinkled at the corners that he was smiling.
She pulled the single key from the pocket of her slim skirt and dropped it into his palm.
“I won’t be gone too long.” His voice did that sexy, deepening thing again, and her body responded in kind.
This was not good. It wasn’t even in the neighborhood of good.
She’d come to Gauthier in hopes of getting to know this man better...in a professional way. There was nothing professional about the fireworks that went off in her belly whenever his voice dropped low.
Matt revved the bike’s engine and, with a brief nod and another of those inconceivably sexy grins, took off down the driveway. Tamryn continued to stare until he was nothing more than a small dot on the horizon.
“If you’d like, I can show you to your room, then you can come down to dinner,” Phylicia said, knocking her out of her daze.
Tamryn turned to her, embarrassed by the fact that she didn’t have a clue what the woman had just said. “I’m sorry, but what was that?”
Phylicia’s lips held a trace of a grin. “He has that effect on people,” she said. “Anyway, as I was saying, dinner is at seven. It’s communal and held in the large dining room, but if you’d like, I can bring your food to your room. Room service isn’t something we offer, but after the afternoon you’ve had, you’re probably not up for dining with a bunch of people you don’t know. You look as if you can use some rest.”
“Is it that bad?” Tamryn asked, running a self-conscious hand through her hair.
Phylicia’s lips twisted with chagrin. “Sorry, I’m still learning how to be a gracious hostess who doesn’t speak her mind all the time.”
“That’s okay.” Tamryn laughed. “I’d rather hear the truth.”
She’d checked in through Belle Maison’s online service before arriving, so Phylicia, who she learned was the fiancée of the bed-and-breakfast’s owner, showed her to her room. It was elegantly furnished, with a four-poster canopy bed, a tufted settee with delicate legs and a cheval mirror in the corner. She’d chosen this room specifically for the balcony that overlooked the gazebo on the east lawn. She rarely got the chance to enjoy working outside, and Tamryn planned to spend most of her summer on the reclining patio chair she spotted out there.
As much as she wanted to explore where she would be residing for the next month and a half, the first thing Tamryn did once Phylicia left was go straight to the bathroom at the end of the hallway. She had been dying to wash off the bits of dirt that had glommed on to her legs during her motorcycle ride into town.
After cleaning up, she returned to her room and fished the number for the car-rental company from her purse. Tamryn was standing outside on her balcony, trying to maintain her patience as she waited for the customer-service representative to come back on the line, when she noticed a jet-black Mercedes-Benz turning into the driveway. It pulled closer to the house and out of her line of vision.
A few minutes later there was a knock on her door. She opened it to find Matt loaded down with her luggage.
“Where can I put these?” he asked.
Just as she was about to answer, the customer-service rep came back on the line. Tamryn pointed to the area in front of the bed and held her finger up, asking him to wait.
“I already told you that the road where the car is located didn’t have any signs. It was just a dirt road,” she told the woman on the other end of the line.
Matt gestured for her to give him the phone. Her brows hitched, silently asking, Are you sure? He nodded and crooked his fingers. She handed him the phone and crossed her arms over her chest, eager to see if he would be able to make any progress.
“Hello,” he spoke into the phone. His voice was incredibly smooth and vastly different from the clipped tone he’d used when rushing her off the phone the few times she’d been able to get past the office manager at his law firm.
“Do you have your own towing service, or do you contract out to the closest local company?” he asked the customer-service rep. “I figured as much. If you’re going with Beauregard’s Towing, it’ll probably be Wayne who gets the call. Just tell him it’s the road off of Highway 421 that leads to Ponderosa Pond. He’ll know where to find the car.” He nodded again. “I’m sure. Tell him to call this number if he has any problems.” He rattled off a phone number and handed the phone back to Tamryn.
“Uh...yeah,” Tamryn stammered. “Did you get all that?” The woman confirmed the directions and told her another rental car would be delivered by tomorrow morning.
“Thank you,” Tamryn said before hanging up. She turned to Matt. “And thank you. I’ve spent the past twenty minutes trying to explain where I left the car. I don’t know if you were going for your merit badge, but you’ve definitely earned it today.”
He held three fingers above his brow in the Boy Scout salute. Then he smiled again. It was slow and easy, and just a little bit devastating.
For several moments they just stood there staring at each other. Normally, she would have felt awkward, but for some reason, she didn’t. Maybe because it was hard to feel anything past the excited charge rushing through her bloodstream.
It was the dimples. The dimples were killing her.
“Thanks for bringing my bags,” Tamryn said, gesturing to the luggage, but not breaking eye contact. “You really didn’t have to do that. I’ve interrupted your day enough already.”
“It was a welcome interruption.” His eyes sparkled with a sexy mischief that did nothing to subdue the attraction she was trying to pretend wasn’t there. He paused for a beat, then asked, “Would you like to go to dinner?”
Tamryn’s head reared back slightly.
So he’s not a fan of subtlety.
“There’s dinner here,” she said.
Another flash of that smile. Tamryn was stunned at how readily it came, especially when she considered how unfriendly he’d seemed the few t
imes she’d spoken to him on the phone. She liked this Matthew Gauthier a thousand times more than the one who’d thwarted her attempts to communicate for the past six months.
“I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with Phil’s cooking,” he said. He took a couple of steps toward her, reached forward and captured her wrist. He ran his thumb lazily back and forth over the pulse there, and for Tamryn, breathing suddenly became the most difficult thing in the world.
“However,” Matt continued, “I can think of a few other places where we can have a nice, quiet meal together. Maybe enjoy a glass of wine while you tell me what brought you to our cozy little town. Why don’t you let me take you to dinner?”
Her entire being screamed yes, but thankfully, she still possessed the good sense to shake her head in the negative.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t,” Tamryn said.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “It’s been such a long day.”
And the last time she’d called him, he’d threatened to file harassment charges against her. She could only assume that the dinner invitations would not be forthcoming once he realized just whom he’d invited to dinner.
There was also the fact that all she really knew about him were the few tidbits she’d unearthed during her internet searches, and the fact that his ass looked spectacular in denim. And the dimples. Couldn’t forget about the dimples.
She couldn’t forget her purpose for being here, either. She’d come to Louisiana to work. She would love to sit down with Matthew Gauthier for a few hours and talk, but wine and candlelight dinners could not be a part of the equation.
“It just wouldn’t be a good idea,” Tamryn stated.
A touch of disappointment ghosted over his face, but then the smile returned. “You have had an eventful introduction to Gauthier,” he said. “Tomorrow, then? Or at least sometime before you leave town. My good deed warrants at least a dinner, doesn’t it?”
Her arms crossed over her chest, Tamryn cocked her head to the side. “You didn’t tell me there would be a price when you offered me a ride.”
His eyes, which she realized were a remarkable shade of hazel and green, sparkled with amusement. “You didn’t ask.”
She refused to let that smile affect her.
“What if I’m not willing to pay your asking price? Will you haul me onto that bike and drop me back in the middle of nowhere?”
“Won’t be necessary,” he said. “You’ll eventually agree to dinner.”
Her brow lifted. “You sound so confident.”
He didn’t answer, just continued to grin with that cocky self-assuredness as he backed out of the room.
Tamryn walked over to the door and continued to stare as he made his way down the hallway. He looked back at her, the overconfident grin still in place.
Oh, yeah. This would definitely be an interesting summer.
Chapter 2
Matthew Gauthier searched through the chaos cluttering his desk, lifting files and thumbing through mail that had lingered unopened for well over a week.
“Matt, are you still there?”
“I’m here,” he called in the direction of his cell, which lay on his desk in speakerphone mode. “Why didn’t you leave the papers with Carmen? You know she’s better at keeping track of things than I am.”
“Because you told me to leave them on your desk,” Benjamin Keller answered. “If you have a chance in hell of getting through this campaign successfully, you will have to get it together, Matt.”
“Yes, yes, I know.” Matt ran across a file he’d been looking for last week, and underneath it found the forms his campaign manager had left on his desk. “I found them.”
“Thank God.” Ben’s sigh came through the phone.
Matt had made public his plans to run for the state-senate seat in his district some time ago, but had held off filing the paperwork until today. He would drive out to Baton Rouge this afternoon so he could officially file with the state.
“Log in to instant messenger,” Ben said. “I’m sending you a link to a YouTube commercial your future opponent’s camp released today.”
“Another one?”
Matt ran a hand down his face, cursing as he turned to his computer. He clicked on the link as soon as the message bubble popped up. The video began with a baby screaming at the top of his lungs and the words Little Matthew Gauthier just keeps whining in bold print across the bottom.
Matt’s blood pressure escalated as the commercial continued. It was the same old crap his opponent, Patrick Carter, had been spouting since the moment Matt made it known that he would run for the state-senate seat that had become available following a bribery scandal the former senator had become embroiled in. Carter was a career politician who was used to running unopposed for whatever public office he deemed worthy of his greatness. The man had held nearly every political seat there was.
In this latest ad, Carter attacked Matt’s age, claiming that at thirty-two, Matt was still too wet behind the ears to do any good for the people of District Twelve. But what really pissed him off was his opponent’s insistence that because Matt had been born into Gauthier’s wealthiest family, he couldn’t possibly understand the struggles the rest of the residents faced. He would not allow Carter to pull that silver-spoon-in-the-mouth bullshit on him.
“I’m not even officially in the race yet,” Matt said.
“He’s doing this because he knows you’re a threat,” Ben replied. “You know what this means, right?”
“Forget it, Ben.” Matt put his elbows on his desk and massaged his temples. “I already told you I’m not stooping to Carter’s level.”
“Dammit, Matt, when are you gonna listen to me? Politics is a dirty business. If you want to win this seat, you’ll need to sling some mud. Stop trying to be the stand-up candidate. That candidate never wins.”
“He will this time,” Matt said. “Don’t worry about Carter. The people here can see right through him.”
“Really?” Ben drawled. “If that’s the case, how has he been able to hold nearly every public seat in local government?”
Ben had a point.
Unable to come up with an adequate response to his campaign manager’s very valid argument, Matt said, “Be here at three so we can leave for Baton Rouge.” He ended the call with Ben and buzzed his office manager, Carmen Mitchell. “Carmen, can you get me the file for Mrs. Black’s case? I think the insurance company is about to cave.”
“Will do,” Carmen said.
Matt pushed his chair away from the desk and stood, luxuriating in a total-body stretch. It was just after 10:00 a.m., yet it felt as if he’d already put in a full day. He knew he should have started turning down cases when he’d made the decision to run for office months ago, but his was the only law practice in town. In fact, for more than a century and a half, the Gauthier Law Firm had been the only means for legal representation in a twenty-mile radius. How could he turn anyone away?
He thumbed through the messages Carmen had handed him when he’d come in this morning and ran across at least one person he was pretty good at turning away. He crumpled the green slip of paper with yet another message from that nosy Professor West and tossed it in the trash.
The woman had been the biggest pain in his ass for the past six months. Ever since it had been discovered that this building had once been a part of the Underground Railroad, she’d been calling and emailing, digging her nose in his business. If not for all the stationery he’d have to replace, Matt would have changed the office’s phone number.
He didn’t have time to concern himself with Professor West right now; he had more than enough to worry about. The first item on his plate was to bring some semblance of order to his desk. Carmen had straightened it out yesterday. If she came in and saw the mess he’d made, there would
be hell to pay.
Matt did his best to get the files back in order. He opened the bottom drawer and retrieved a can of the energy drink he kept stashed in there. As he chugged half the can in one large gulp, he replayed the YouTube video again, his jaw clenching as he watched the ridiculous commercial.
Carter might have more years on him, but he was the exact opposite of what the people in this area needed. He was one of Leroy Gauthier’s old cronies. Matt’s father and Patrick Carter had had a falling-out years ago, but the two men were cut from the same cloth. Their way of thinking tended to provide more benefits for themselves than their constituents. It was time for a change in the way politics was played around here.
Carmen gave two short raps on the door before she entered the office, carrying a file.
“Thanks,” he said as he captured the beige folder she held out to him. His high-school English teacher, Mrs. Black, was suing the school system’s health-insurance company for lack of coverage. Matt wanted to read through the file again before his telephone call with the school board’s attorney.
He looked up at Carmen, who’d remained standing in front of his desk.
“Yeah?” Matt asked.
“You have a visitor,” she said. The smile tipping up the corner of her mouth sent a tremor of unease down his spine.
“Who is it?” he asked, hoping to God it wasn’t his father. Although his father would never wait in the lobby like a guest. He’d officially passed the Gauthier mansion on to Matt, but the old man still took ownership of this office. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t practiced law here since becoming an appellate-court judge in New Orleans several years ago.
“It’s Professor Tamryn West,” Carmen answered.
“What?” Matt shot out of his chair. “You’re kidding me.”
“I am not,” Carmen said. “Should I send her in?”
“No.” He came around the desk. “What the hell is she doing here? Doesn’t she teach somewhere up on the East Coast?”
“Boston,” Carmen answered. “The woman came all this way, Matt. You have to see her.”