The Illegitimate Heirs: Caleb, Nick & Hunter. Kathie DeNosky
gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, then picked up his boots and walked across the room and out the door without a backward glance.
Staring at the closed door, she had to force herself to breathe. Now she knew for certain that she’d landed on the other side of the rainbow. Either that, or she and Caleb had both been taken over by aliens. After all, they were in Roswell, where the unexplained was not only accepted, it was expected.
But as she reached up to turn off the bedside lamp, she shook her head. She knew what had gotten into her and it had nothing whatsoever to do with friends from a faraway galaxy. From the moment Caleb Walker had strolled into her office, she’d fought it, tried to ignore it and even denied its existence. But the truth was, she was attracted to her new boss.
She burrowed deeper into the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. What on earth was she going to do now?
In the past few minutes, she’d abandoned the two most important rules she’d set for herself. She’d allowed one of her coworkers to witness her emotional side and she’d practically thrown herself at him when he’d offered her comfort.
She sighed heavily. There was no way around it now. Her departure from Skerritt and Crowe was not only inevitable, it was imminent.
Closing her eyes, she tried not to think of the damage she’d done to her professional reputation and willed herself to relax. She probably wouldn’t be able to sleep, but at least she wouldn’t be sobbing like a baby when Caleb returned this time.
What seemed like only a few minutes later, the ringing phone roused her. Who on earth could be calling at this time of night?
She grumbled about wanting to hurt whoever was on the other end of the line as she switched on the light and snatched up the receiver before it could ring again. “Hello?”
Dead silence greeted her.
“Is someone there?” she asked impatiently.
“Who is it?” Caleb asked, sounding groggy.
She sucked in a sharp breath as she glanced over at the other bed. Apparently she’d been asleep longer than she’d realized. He’d not only returned to their room, but he’d been sleeping as soundly as she’d been.
“Ms. Merrick?”
“Yes.” She looked at the digital alarm clock on the nightstand. “Who is this and why are you calling at two in the morning?”
“This is Clarence Norton, A.J… . Ms. Merrick. I’m sorry to wake you,” the security guard from Skerritt and Crowe said apologetically. “The motel operator was supposed to connect me with Mr. Walker’s room.”
“Is there a problem?”
“The firm’s silent alarm went off at the police station about an hour ago,” he explained. “They called me to come down and let them in so they could do a thorough search of the building.”
Fully awake, she asked, “Was there a break-in?”
“No,” Clarence assured her. “But the alarm system shorted out and—”
“What’s going on?” Caleb threw back the sheet and sat up on the side of the bed. “Give me the phone.”
Alyssa held up her finger to silence him, but it was too late. Clarence had already heard Caleb’s voice.
“I-Is that Mr. Walker?” From the tone of his voice, the security guard was shocked right down to his big flat feet.
With Caleb reaching for the receiver and Clarence stammering on the other end of the line, she surrendered the phone without another word.
Her worst nightmare had just been realized. Clarence Norton was the biggest gossip in Albuquerque. By the time she and Caleb returned to the office the day after tomorrow, everyone at Skerritt and Crowe would know that they’d spent the night together.
Caleb set the cruise control, then glanced over at the silent woman seated on the passenger side of the truck cab. Other than answering direct questions, Alyssa hadn’t said more than a handful of words to him since the kiss they’d shared the night before. She’d been congenial and outgoing enough when she’d discussed financial options and outlined plans for the two potential clients they’d met with in Las Cruces and Truth or Consequences. But whenever they found themselves alone, she clammed up.
“I’m pretty sure we’ve picked up Mr. Sanchez and Mrs. Bailey as clients,” he said, trying once more to draw her out.
She nodded. “It looks that way.”
“Are you going to handle their accounts personally or turn them over to someone else?”
“I’ll probably turn them over to Richard Henshaw or Marla Davis.”
When she let the discussion drop once again, he released a frustrated breath. “Talk to me, Alyssa. Tell me why I’m getting the silent treatment. Is it because of what happened last night?”
Nodding, she stared straight ahead. “I can’t stop thinking about Clarence’s phone call and the rumors that I’m sure were being passed around the office today.”
“You’re worried about what’s being said at the office?” he asked incredulously. He hadn’t given much, if any, thought to the phone call. His mind had been occupied with that kiss. To say she’d damned near knocked his socks off was an understatement.
“Aren’t you concerned?” She looked at him like he’d sprouted horns and a tail. “Clarence Norton is the biggest gossip this side of the Mississippi and he’s not going to let something like my being in your room at two in the morning go by without putting his spin on it. By now, I’m sure he’s told everyone who will listen that we slept together last night.”
“Technically, we did sleep together,” Caleb said, grinning. “Just not in the same bed.” The cab of the truck was dark, but he’d bet every last dime he had that her cheeks had colored a pretty pink. He wished like hell he could see them.
“I suppose that’s true. But do you honestly think anyone will believe that?” she asked.
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “But the way I see it, our only option is to tell the truth. After we explain things, it’ll be up to everyone else to draw their own conclusions.”
“You know what that will be.” She glared at him like she thought he might be a little simpleminded.
“We can’t control what others think or say about us, Alyssa.” He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “But even if they are talking about us now, this time next week someone else will be the topic of conversation around the water cooler.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I’m sure—”
He stopped short when he noticed steam rolling out from under the truck’s hood. Glancing at the temperature gauge on the dash, he said a word that would have had his mother washing his mouth out with soap if she’d heard. It was a dark, moonless night and they were miles away from the last gas station.
“Why is your truck smoking?” she asked, clearly alarmed.
“It’s my guess we have radiator problems.”
“That’s not good.” She pushed her owlish glasses up her nose with a brush of her hand—a gesture he’d come to recognize as a sign of her nervousness. “What are you going to do?”
“I’ll have to find a place to pull over so I can check it out.” He’d no sooner gotten the words out than they passed a sign indicating a rest area less than a mile ahead. “Looks like we’re in luck. At least it will be well lit and I can see what I’m doing.”
Ten