Truly, Madly, Deeply. Vicki Lewis Thompson
He shrugged. “As I said, you’re a good influence on me.”
Well, now. This cast a new light on things. He was hinting that she might make a convert of him. To take the son of an oil baron and turn him into a liberal conservationist might be a job worth tackling.
“What’s your position with Ramsey Enterprises, now?” she asked.
“Looks like I’m running the show. My dad had a stroke right after the first of the year and can’t handle the job anymore.”
“Oh, Dustin.” Remorse washed over her. Now wasn’t the time to chide him about his comfortable situation. It was anything but comfortable. She laid a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry. That must be very rough.”
He nodded. “Yeah, but maybe it was time I grew up.”
“Forget what I said. I had no idea what you were dealing with.”
“No offense taken.”
She drew her hand away when she realized she’d begun lightly stroking his sleeve. “How is your father?”
“He’s in rehab, and gradually learning to walk again. But his problems with communication are the biggest reason he can’t run the company. He can’t read or write, and he has trouble finding the words he needs when he talks.”
“Thank goodness you have the resources to give him good care.” She worried about her own parents, who were living on a little farm in Ohio and had no health insurance. They claimed healthy living would keep them out of hospitals, but she thought they were skating on thin ice.
“Right,” Dustin said.
Her impression of him was changing by the minute. Ten years ago she’d tried to soothe her broken heart by thinking of Dustin as the dark prince from an evil empire. But rich or poor, when you were the only child of an ailing parent, the worry was still the same.
“They’re doing wonderful things with stroke patients these days,” she said. “With the right therapy, he could have a full recovery.”
“I hope so. But the doctors warned me not to expect it. I have to operate as if he’ll never be in charge of Ramsey Enterprises again.”
“I’ll bet you know more about running the company than you think you do.”
“We’ll see.” He pulled the truck under the portico in front of the Fairmont and handed the keys to the valet with the air of someone who’d done it a million times. No doubt he had. With the same ease he tipped the bellman who helped Erica out of the truck and took Dustin’s overnight bag from the back.
Then Dustin grabbed the dove-gray Stetson that had been lying brim up on the seat and settled it on his head. With that gesture, he suddenly became Dustin Ramsey, heir to the throne of Ramsey Enterprises. She’d do well to remember that, dutiful son or not, he was still aligned with corporate America.
And she was not. Therefore she couldn’t allow herself to be thrilled by a man who knew exactly how to check into a luxury hotel. Maybe for a brief moment, as she walked with him into the flower-decorated lobby, she fantasized spending the night with him here. Even without her deadline looming, that would be a gigantic mistake.
He reserved a room for two nights. Interesting. By tomorrow night she’d have met her deadline. Not that it mattered that she’d have free time then. Of course not.
“You’ll come up with me, won’t you?” He pocketed the folder containing the card key and walked away from the check-in desk. “I’d like to drop off my jacket and briefcase, and there’s no point in having you hang around the lobby waiting for me.”
“Okay.” She walked with him toward the bank of elevators and tried to convince herself there was nothing forbidden or exciting about going up to his room. Hanging around in the lobby like some scared little rabbit would be stupid.
They rode up with a couple of men wearing suits and toting briefcases. Erica stood well apart from Dustin and watched the floors blink by above the elevator doors. No matter how she tried to diffuse the feeling, the little trip upstairs seemed to have sexual liaison written all over it.
She wondered if agreeing to go up to his room had meant more than she’d intended. Ten years ago he’d invited her for a ride in the country, and he’d assumed she’d wanted more than fresh air out of the deal.
Well, if he thought something would happen once they reached the room, he’d better think again. Offering sympathy for his situation with his father was one thing. Losing her head and jumping into bed with him was quite another. She wasn’t the same person he’d dazzled back in high school.
His silence as they walked toward the room was extremely suspicious. Maybe he was busy planning his seduction. She’d bet the great Dustin Ramsey had never been turned down, and he took it for granted that once a woman stepped inside his hotel room, she would go along with his every desire.
By the time he opened the door and ushered her inside, her heart was pounding wildly and her imagination was in overdrive.
The room was hushed and seductive, light filtering through sheer curtains. The bulk of the room was taken up with a king-size bed, a piece of furniture that was impossible to ignore and difficult to take casually. She should have waited in the lobby. Looking like a scared rabbit was preferable to an awkward scene when she refused him.
And she absolutely would refuse him. Her self-esteem required it.
Dustin tossed his jacket across the burgundy-and-green quilted bedspread and put his briefcase on the lacquered desk. “Do you want anything to drink before we go back down?” He opened an armoire. “There’s a courtesy bar in here.”
She could imagine only one reason he’d offer her a drink in the middle of the day in his hotel room. “No, thanks. Dustin, I think we should—”
A knock on the door interrupted her. She waited, fidgeting with her purse strap, while he let the bellman in and tipped him for bringing up the overnight bag.
Once the door closed, she tried again. “I need to ask you something.”
He stowed his bag in the closet. “What’s that?”
“Why did you come to Dallas?”
“I found out about your newsletter and thought franchising would be a great opportunity for both of us.” He closed the closet door.
“That’s it?”
He studied her from across the room. “Why?”
Her heart thudded faster. People didn’t ask why unless they had something they weren’t telling you. “Because I have the feeling that there’s a whole other thing going on. I want to know what it is.”
3
DUSTIN HAD HOPED his dealings with Erica would run a little smoother than this. First of all she hadn’t jumped at the franchise offer. Now she was demanding to know if he had ulterior motives for making the offer. He hadn’t asked Erica up to the room to seduce her. He wasn’t sure why he’d asked her to ride along, other than a desire to keep her close by.
Sure enough, he was drawing strength from her, as he’d thought he would. For the first time since his father’s stroke, he was beginning to feel optimistic about his ability to run the company. That didn’t make sense considering that Erica seemed ready to reject the franchise deal.
But she’d offered him comfort when he’d told her about his dad, the kind of comfort he couldn’t expect from his good-time pals on the racing circuit. She’d also implied that she thought he could handle all these new challenges. He didn’t remember anyone else saying that, not even his mother. Yep, he definitely liked having Erica nearby.
He wouldn’t mind having her even nearer, and she’d picked up on that. But he wasn’t so crude that he’d try to lure her into bed during their first couple of hours together.