High-Powered, Hot-Blooded / Westmoreland's Way: High-Powered, Hot-Blooded / Westmoreland's Way. Brenda Jackson
a winter festival, Duncan. We don’t promote any one holiday celebration.”
“And calling it a winter festival fools people?”
She heard the humor in his voice. “It’s inclusive. So there are a bunch of sets to be built and painted. I have to stay and help.”
“What is your class doing?”
“Singing ‘Catch a Falling Star’ while using American Sign Language at the same time.”
“Multitasking at five. Impressive. All right, Ms. McCoy. Call me when the sets are decorated. If there’s time, I’ll take you to the cocktail party with me.”
“I’m sorry to miss it,” she said, sincere in her regret.
“You don’t know that you will yet, do you?”
“We’re not exactly a talented group when it comes to woodworking, Duncan. We’re going to be here all night.”
“Just call me.”
She hung up and walked back into the main auditorium building. The other teachers and a couple of volunteers were dividing up the work. As the closest Annie had come to construction was the knitting class she’d taken the previous summer, she was given paint detail.
Thirty minutes later everyone was hard at work, building, sanding and painting. Fifteen minutes after that, four big guys in T-shirts, jeans and work boots walked in. Each man had an impressively large toolbox with him. The principal turned off the saw and removed her safety goggles.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“We’re here to help with the sets,” one of the guys said. “Duncan Patrick sent us.”
The teachers looked around in confusion. Annie cleared her throat. “He’s, ah, a friend of mine. I mentioned we hadn’t had our usual parent volunteers.” She was trying to look perfectly normal, which probably wasn’t working, seeing as she couldn’t stop smiling. A light, happy feeling made her think she just might be able to float home instead of drive.
The principal sighed gratefully. “We are desperate. Have you ever worked on sets for a school play before?”
The men exchanged glances. “Two of us are cabinet makers, and two of us are house painters, ma’am. We can handle it. If you’ll just tell us what needs to be done, leave us to finish it and we’re good.”
Annie pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed Duncan’s number. “Thank you,” she whispered when he picked up. “This is amazing.”
“This is me making sure you don’t back out of our deal. I’ll pick you up at five. It won’t be a late evening.”
She wanted to say more, to have him admit he’d gone way out of his way to help her. But something inside her told her he didn’t want to take credit for what he’d done. The question was why. What in Duncan’s past made him believe that being nice and kind and honorable was a bad thing? Had someone hurt him? Maybe it was time to find out.
“I don’t understand,” Annie said as she put the key in the front door lock and turned it. “He’s a banker. He has lots of money. So why does he care about yours?”
“Banks get money from other people and make profit off it,” Duncan told her. “Loaning it out, investing it. The bigger the accounts, the more income for the bank.”
“Okay,” she said slowly, obviously not convinced.
They’d spent the past two hours at a boring cocktail party. In theory the evening had been about networking, but it had become clear that Duncan had been invited so a prominent banker could solicit his business. Normally he didn’t mind being courted—it could make for an excellent deal. But tonight he hadn’t been in the mood.
Instead he’d been watching the clock and checking his cell phone.
Annie shrugged out of her black wrap and dropped it on the sofa. She bent over to remove her high heels, wincing as she pulled them off.
“They weren’t kidding,” she murmured, curling her toes into the carpet. “Beauty is pain.”
Normally Duncan would have responded to the comment, but he was too busy watching her dress gape open, exposing her full, pale breasts. The curves looked big enough to fill his hands. Staring at them, he wondered how the soft skin would taste. He imagined his tongue circling her tight nipples, flicking them quickly as she writhed beneath him.
The image was vivid enough to cause blood to pool in his groin. He shifted uncomfortably.
Annie straightened, took a step and winced again. “I think the injury is permanent. How do women wear those shoes every day? I couldn’t stand it.” She pointed to the corner. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
He glanced in that direction and saw the decorated Christmas tree by the window. It filled the space and spilled into the room. Hundreds of ornaments seemed to cover every inch of branch. Annie flipped on the lights, which flicked on and off at a dizzying speed. It wasn’t something he would have liked and yet there was something special about the tree.
“Very nice.”
“Did you get one yet for your place?” she asked.
Of course not, but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Instead he pointed to the coffee table where an instruction manual lay inside a clear plastic sleeve. “What’s that?”
She looked down, then picked up the package. “I don’t know. It’s for a freezer. We don’t have a…”
Slowly she raised her head until she stared at him. “You didn’t.”
He pointed to the kitchen. Beyond that was a utility room with a washer, dryer and as of an hour ago, a brand-new freezer. She ran through the kitchen. He followed. When he’d caught up with her, she was running her hands lovingly down the door before opening it and gazing at the full shelves.
There were packages of meat, chicken and fish, a stack of frozen pizzas, bags of vegetables, containers of juice and ice cream. Annie stared for nearly a minute, her eyes wide, her mouth open. Then she closed the door and turned to face him.
He’d known a lot of beautiful women in his life. He’d slept with them, dated some, left more than a few. He’d been seduced by the best, even been married, but no one had looked at him the way she did now—tears in her blue eyes, a expression of pure happiness on her face.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she told him.
“I know. I wanted to. You can buy in bulk. It’s cheaper. I know how you love a bargain.”
“It’s the best gift ever. Thank you.” She reached for his hand and squeezed it. “Seriously, Duncan. This is life-changing.”
He pulled back his hand, not wanting to be sucked into the moment. He’d seen a need and filled it. Big deal. “It’s just a freezer.”
“To you. To me it’s something I don’t have to worry about for a while. It’s a chance to catch my breath.”
He’d given gifts before. Jewelry. Cars. Vacations. Now, standing in Annie’s shabby little house, he realized he’d never given anything that mattered. No one had been touched by something he’d done before. Maybe because Annie was one of the few women he’d ever liked.
Wanting and liking were completely different. He’d gone into this arrangement to improve his reputation and get his board of directors off his ass. But somewhere along the way, he’d started to like Annie. He couldn’t tell if that was good or bad.
“This is my good deed for the holiday season,” he said. “Don’t read too much into it.”
“Right.” Her smile was knowing. “Because you’re not a nice guy.”
“I’m not.”
“So