LOVE'S FUNNY THAT WAY Page 5

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  Chapter 5

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  The air was so cold Raven had to wrap a scarf around her lower face to warm her breath. A floppy black beret protected her ears. She was bundled up in a silk turtleneck and heavy wool sweater under her yellow down anorak, but the cold cut through her jeans like a knife.

  Still, it was exhilarating riding on horseback through the woods. This was her third date with Brent, and she was beginning to appreciate his preference for vigorous physical activity. Their fourth date was already scheduled for next Saturday: ice-skating on a frozen lake, followed by a home-cooked meal at her house. The following day Brent was hosting a big Super Bowl party, and she'd promised to make a double batch of her fiery chili con carne for it.

  He'd promised to teach her to play racquetball and, since he had a pilot's license, to take her flying over Manhattan. The rented airplane wouldn't be fancy, he warned, a "Volkswagen with wings," but Raven knew it would take the prize as Most Adventurous Date of her life.

  She'd never ridden a horse before, although she was getting the hang of it, moving at a brisk gait between the trail guide in front and Brent behind her. She'd never played racquetball or flown in a private plane, either, but something told her she'd enjoy those experiences just as much. What a delight to go out with a man whose imagination wasn't limited to dinner and a movie.

  "You're not used to this," Brent said. "How are your hindquarters holding up?"

  She grinned at him over her shoulder. "That's a very personal question, don't you think?"

  His cheeks were pink, his blue eyes glistening from the cold. His impish expression made him look younger, more like his brother. He was as handsome as Hunter, though in a different way. Brent's face was more mature, his hair always neatly trimmed, his wardrobe more put together than Hunter's. Today he wore a brown leather bomber jacket over an ivory wool turtleneck and snug, new-looking black jeans. His brown riding boots appeared freshly polished.

  Brent, no novice to riding, sat his horse with confident ease, the reins held loosely in his gloved fingers. The stable had provided him with a big, dun-colored mare, somewhat more spirited than the small, placid chestnut that Raven rode.

  He said, "Well, you'll be happy to know that from where I sit, your hindquarters are holding up just fine."

  She laughed. Brent had a way of being flirtatious and even suggestive without making her uncomfortable. They'd gotten along well from the start. Perhaps Amanda had known what she was doing when she'd suggested setting Raven up with him. And perhaps Charli and Sunny had known what they were doing when they'd rubber-stamped the choice. Raven knew Brent was probably on his best behavior, as people tended to be in the early stages of a relationship, but she had to believe that if he had any truly obnoxious qualities, they would have revealed themselves by now.

  When they arrived back at the stables, Brent gallantly helped Raven dismount. She rubbed her mount's velvety nose and thanked her for putting up with a neophyte such as herself.

  Brent put his arm around Raven as they walked to his red Acura. Holding the passenger door open for her, he checked his watch. "It's only a quarter to five. Plenty of time to make our seven-thirty reservation."

  They planned to grab showers at Raven's house before heading out to an elegant dinner at the Island's newest five-star restaurant. Brent had packed a bag with fresh clothes to change into. It was nearly dark by the time they pulled into Raven's driveway. She invited him to make use of the master bathroom while she checked her answering machine and went through her mail.

  Twenty minutes later, Raven was sitting in her office, answering e-mail at her computer, when she heard Brent descend the stairs.

  "In here," she called.

  Within moments, his clean, soapy scent teased her nostrils. His hands settled on her shoulders as he stood behind her. "This must be where you practice your unholy craft," he teased. "The sanctum sanctorum."

  "This is it. I'll be finished here in a minute."

  Brent's strong hands kneaded her shoulders. "You did very well for your first time riding. Are you sore?"

  She chuckled. "Yeah, but not there."

  His fingers slipped forward and massaged a bit lower, almost but not quite touching her breasts. Raven wanted to say, Not there, either.

  Abruptly his hands stilled. "Is that Hunter's phone number? It is," he said as he lifted Raven's notebook from the desktop and examined the seven digits scrawled on the cover in his brother's distinctive handwriting.

  Raven's heart slammed into her ribs. Her mind raced. She'd promised not to tell Brent about Hunter's hypnotherapy. This wasn't the first time a client had requested her to be discreet, but never before had discretion felt more like some kind of illicit secret.

  She forced her voice to be steady. "I told you, he talked me into performing at Stitches on Wednesday. He gave me his number so we could go over my routine."

  Brent tossed the notebook back onto the desk. "He was here?"

  "Um, yes, when he dropped me off that night after skiing. He wanted to see my—" her chuckle was strained "—sanctum sanctorum." Why did that suddenly sound so dirty?

  Thankfully, Brent seemed to accept this explanation. He bent over her. His wet hair tickled her ear. "You know, we have plenty of time before we have to leave." He pressed a light kiss to her temple.

  The intimate murmur sounded so much like Hunter's voice that Raven felt a jolt of unease. She looked over her shoulder and only then realized Brent's torso was bare. Please don't let him be wearing a towel, she thought as her gaze skipped lower.

  He wore taupe dress slacks, she was relieved to see.

  "Um, let me just send this." She pushed a few buttons and her e-mail to her father in Fort Lauderdale zipped out into cyberspace.

  Brent spun her desk chair until she faced him. He braced his palms on the armrests and leaned over her,' his smile provocative. In that instant Raven realized their relationship had progressed past flirtatious banter—at least as far as Brent was concerned.

  He touched his lips to hers. "Plenty of time," he repeated, and kissed her again.

  Brent was an accomplished kisser. The sensation was pleasurable, but Raven found it impossible to relax and enjoy it,' wondering how far he intended to take this. She didn't have to wonder for long.

  "Come here," he said, pulling her to her feet and steering her to the recliner—right where Hunter had sat two days before. Brent sat and pulled her onto his lap. Raven found herself snugged against his warm bare chest.

  "Brent…"

  Suddenly he tilted the chair back so it was nearly horizontal. She stiffened.

  "I—I must smell like a horse," she said, doing a pushup over Brent, trying to keep from sprawling on top of him.

  "Let me see." He nuzzled her throat. "Mmm … you don't smell like any horse I've ever met." He stroked her back coaxingly, exerting mild pressure, urging her to relax against him. "I like this chair." He wagged his eyebrows. "It has infinite possibilities."

  "This is where my hypnotherapy clients sit." Raven tried in vain to lever herself off him.

  "How fitting," Brent said. "I'm under your spell already."

  "No, I mean … this isn't right. I'm not comfortable doing this here."

  His gaze was frankly seductive. "Then let's go upstairs." He cupped his hand over her breast and caressed her.

  Raven grasped his wrist. "No."

  Brent froze. He removed his hand and pushed the chair upright.

  Raven rose and took a wobbly step backward. "This is going too fast for me, Brent."

  He sighed in frustration. "This is our third date."

  "Is that some magic number?" She offered a wry smile, and was gratified when he returned it.

  "I was hoping it would be."

  "I can't … get intimate this soon. It's not my way." Raven wished he'd get up from the recliner. She couldn't see Brent sitting there without thinking about his brother.

  "I can wait," he said, "but I need to know whe
re you see this going. I'll be frank, Raven. I'm already pretty serious about you. I want to take it to the next level—and I'm not just talking about sex. You're a very special woman."

  "I like you a lot, Brent. I'm really glad Amanda introduced us. I'm just not ready for more right now."

  He studied her. "Can I assume there's no one else?"

  "Of course there's no one else! I mean, I'm not the type to see more than one person at a time." She smiled. "Life's complicated enough."

  The corners of his eyes crinkled. "Looks like I've gotten myself entangled with an old-fashioned girl."

  "Let's just say I know what works for me."

  "That's more than a lot of people can claim." Brent rose and pulled her lightly into his arms. "All right. We'll take things slow. Some things in life are worth the wait."

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  Chapter 6

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  Raven glanced around her, scanning the crowd at Stitches. The place was packed to capacity: good news for Hunter, less than thrilling for Raven as she contemplated stepping out onstage in a short while. Whatever had possessed her to say yes?

  But she knew the answer to that. In her mind's eye she saw Hunter as he'd looked in her office after his session last Thursday, saw the forthright sincerity in his eyes, heard it in his voice as he promised he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her.

  She smiled. Her white knight, ready to slay the dragons for her.

  The patrons had finished dinner and were now enjoying dessert. To her right, Charli sipped espresso and spooned up the last of her lemon sorbet. Amanda, sitting on Raven's left, had eschewed dessert in deference to her waistline and was nursing a cup of jasmine tea. Across the table, Sunny was working on her second cup of coffee as she polished off a jumbo helping of apple crisp à la mode.

  Raven had sent her pizza rustica back untouched. Trying to force something into her stomach when she was this keyed up was a losing proposition.

  "Get me out of here," she groaned, for the dozenth time.

  And for the dozenth time, Charli placed a reassuring hand over hers. "You'll do great, Raven."

  "You need a drink," Amanda said, "something to take the edge off."

  "That's the last thing I need. I want to have all my faculties intact when I humiliate myself."

  Amanda shrugged. "Suit yourself. If it was me going up on that stage, I'd have a pint of Johnnie Walker with a Thorazine chaser."

  Sunny set down her fork. "That's really helpful, Amanda. She's nervous enough."

  "Don't worry," Raven said, "Nothing can make this worse for me. How do I look?"

  "Good news," Amanda said. "You look funny."

  Charli tsked. "Amanda, will you stop? You look really nice, Raven. That green's a good color for you."

  "Thanks." Raven plucked at the moss-green chenille sweater she'd paired with a floral calf-length skirt. "I figure when I throw up from nerves, it won't show so much on this."

  "Do you mind?" Sunny said, with her mouth full. "Some of us are still eating."

  "Guys, I really appreciate your being here for me," Raven said. "Now remember, laugh long, laugh hard, laugh often."

  Hunter's voice broke in. "Instructing your shills?"

  Raven looked up. He'd stopped at their table, standing between her and Charli. He laid a warm, heavy hand on Raven's shoulder. Did he have any idea how comforting that simple gesture was?

  Amanda said, "You must be Brent's brother." Introductions were made around the table.

  Hunter shook hands with Charli last. He smiled down at her. "What's Charli short for? Charlotte? Charlene?"

  Even in the low light of the club, Raven saw her friend blush. Charli Rossi was unaccustomed to even this much attention from a man.

  In a small voice she said, "Carlotta."

  "That's a great name." He nodded toward her empty demitasse cup. "Something tells me you might be a good one to ask. How does our espresso rate, Carlotta?"

  She smiled shyly. "Delizioso."

  Amanda glanced at Sunny. If Raven didn't know them so well, she might not have caught the hidden meaning behind the subtle look they exchanged.

  They couldn't be serious! Charli and Hunter?

  Hunter said, "Where's Brent? I thought he'd be here."

  "He couldn't make it," Raven said. "He has some kind of poker tournament tonight—it was scheduled months ago."

  "Oh," was all Hunter said, but watching him, Raven sensed that Brent's absence didn't sit well with him. She resisted the urge to defend Brent. The fact was, it didn't sit well with her, either, but she had no right to object. They'd been dating less than two weeks—and wasn't she the one who wanted them to take things slow?

  Hunter said, "Raven, I'm putting you on last. When you hear me introduce Donny Deaver, just come backstage."

  All she could manage was something between a groan and a sigh.

  Hunter squeezed her shoulder. He didn't say anything. The gesture was more comforting than words could ever be.

  After he left them, Amanda pounced on Charli. "'How does our espresso rate, Carlotta?'" She drew out the name in a throaty purr.

  "Oh, stop!" Charli glanced around fretfully.

  "Hunter seems like a real sweetheart," Sunny said, scraping her fork over her dessert plate. To Raven she said, "Is he as nice as his brother?"

  "Well … I guess so. I mean, I haven't been around him much."

  Sunny squeezed Charli's arm. "Something tells me we won't have to look far when it's time to find you a guy."

  "Keep it in the family." Amanda winked. "Raven with Brent, Charli with Hunter."

  "That's ridiculous!" Raven snapped.

  The other three looked at her.

  "I mean … Hunter's only twenty-six."

  "A four-year difference." Sunny shrugged. "So what?"

  "A younger man," Amanda said. "Yum." Sunny smirked at Amanda. "There was a time when you got all excited over older men."

  "Seriously." Amanda leaned toward Charli. "I think Hunter's interested. Do you like him?"

  Before Charli could formulate an answer, Raven said, "I can't believe you guys! A few friendly words and you've practically got them married off!"

  Charli stared wide-eyed at Raven. Amanda and Sunny shared another of those knowing looks, and Raven slid lower in her seat.

  "Well, well, well." Amanda leaned back again, wearing a silky smile.

  "Overreacting just a tad, aren't we, Raven?" Sunny offered.

  Charli blinked at Raven. "You have a thing for Hunter?"

  "God! Of course not! What's wrong with you people?"

  Amanda laughed. "Yeah, right."

  "Give it up, Raven." Sunny was grinning. "We've known you too long."

  "It's not funny," Charli said. "She's supposed to be dating Brent."

  "I am dating Brent! And only Brent!"

  Amanda clutched her heart. "Ah, but you lust in your heart for his hunky little brother."

  Now it was Raven's turn to glance nervously around. "It's not like that. Hunter's attractive—so what? Can't I find someone attractive without you guys blowing it out of proportion? And even if he weren't too young, he's off-limits because—" Raven bit her tongue.

  "Because why?" Amanda demanded.

  Because he's my hypnotherapy client, Raven thought, but she wouldn't violate his confidence by saying it. Getting involved with a client was a clear breach of ethics.

  Raven sighed. "Look, can we just drop this?"

  "What are you going to do about Brent?" Sunny asked.

  Charli straightened. "She's going to keep seeing him for the full three months' like she agreed back when we set up the Wedding Ring."

  "That's right," Raven said, knowing how much importance Charli placed on adhering to the pact they'd all made way back when.

  "There was a reason we made that three-month rule," Charli continued, uncharacteristically assertive. "Raven says she doesn't like Hunter that way, and that's good enough for me." She held up her palm as Amanda started to interrupt. "And no
, I'm not saying that because I want him for myself. He's a friendly guy. What do you think, that I'm so lonely, so desperate, that I'll turn a few kind words into a declaration of love?" Charli was flushed with indignation.

  Amanda said quietly, "Of course not. That's not what I meant. I guess we're just kind of jumping the gun."

  "Anyway, it's not my turn yet," Charli said, as the waitress removed their dirty dishes. "Let's concentrate on Raven."

  Thankfully, the show started, quelling further discussion. Raven would be on last, Hunter had said. She wondered if he'd done that on purpose, recalling how much more receptive the audience was after they'd been warmed up. She'd met with him on Monday to go over her routine. He'd helped her streamline it, had given her tips and expressed enormous confidence in her.

  Hunter came onstage and tossed out a few one-liners to rev up the crowd. The first act came on. Raven noticed little outside of the man's high, grating voice and the oversize fedora that practically hid his eyes. Panic threatened to suffocate her. The familiar symptoms were out in force: shallow breathing, clammy hands, a dry mouth that stayed that way no matter how many sips of water she took.

  Act followed act, with each amateur performer remaining onstage up to five minutes. As short as each routine was, Raven had no doubt that for the person up there in the spotlight, it must seem like forever. She concentrated on regulating her breathing.

  It wasn't working.

  "Raven, go!" Charli urged. "He's bringing on that Donny guy."

  Charli and Amanda patted her back as Raven woodenly rose and began to weave her way among the tables. Earlier she'd joked about throwing up from nerves, but at the moment it seemed an all-too-real possibility.

  She made her way through a doorway and down a short hall to the narrow waiting area just off the stage, where a burly, unkempt guy with a huge, bushy beard was waiting his turn to go on. She offered a weak smile, which he answered with a sneer. She watched Donny Deaver in profile as he tossed out limp one-liners, which were met with silence from the audience.

  This guy was awful! Raven cringed, watching Donny sweat under the lights, listening to him stumble over his over-rehearsed lines as the hum of audience chatter began to drown out his act.