Secret Admirer Page 9

  They fell silent for a tense spell. "I feel like hell," Matt finally admitted. "I've never felt this bad."

  He drank the rest of the bottle.

  "You've got it bad this time." Jerry Keith laughed out loud.

  "What the hell are you talking and laughing about? If you tell - "

  "You're in love, Big Bubba. You're finally in love."

  "Well, she damn sure isn't! She used me. All she wants is a promotion."

  "You sure about that? She's chased you her whole damn life. The whole town knows it. That's what this fight is all about. She's tired of being humiliated by putting herself out there for you. Then I show up and catch her without her clothes on. If you're really in love, you've gotta go the whole way, Big Bubba. You've gotta go down on bended knee and promise her your heart and soul. Get her a big ring. You can't pull your tough, macho, silent routine. You've got to throw yourself on her mercy. Women love that."

  "I can't believe I'm listening to you - you, of all people!" Matt slammed the phone down and opened another beer.

  Jerry Keith called him right back. "You still want me to come over?"

  "Hell no! I intend to drink until I pass out.”

  “I'll be right over! I can't ever resist a party!”

  “Don't you dare come - "

  Chapter 11

  Jane couldn't stop crying when she got home that night. All day Sunday she cried for all the lonely, wasted years. She cried because she'd lost Matt forever. She cried because everybody would know and laugh at her. She cried because he was horrible. She cried because he was adorable. She cried because it was spring and there were wildflowers and all the birds outside were making love. But most of all she cried because the sex had been so beautiful, and Matt had made her feel so special.

  Matt. Oh, Matt. Matt. Matt.

  Monday when she went to work, her face was very pale. She wore her thick glasses so nobody, especially Matt, would see how red her eyes were. When she passed him in the hall, and he said hello, her idiotic heart leaped with sheer joy. Just the sight of him in his dark suit and that awful, too-bright yellow tie thrilled her that much. Not that she showed it. Without smiling or looking up from the beige carpet, she mumbled a terse greeting and skittered to her office where she collapsed at her desk and put her head in her hands.

  How she longed for him. How she longed for his hands and his mouth and his body. For him - period! She'd lain awake all last night aching for him physically. Which was insane. He was a louse, a jerk. He always had been. He always would be. J.K. and he had set her up again.

  You don't know that for sure, said the voice of reason, which she wasn't about to listen to. "Jane."

  Matt stood at her door. His deep voice wrapped her and made some vital part of her come alive.

  "Go away," she snapped even as her heart began to ache and race at the same time. "Leave me alone."

  "Look at me," he murmured. "Can't you even look at me?"

  "No! I can't! I'm too miserable for words. Okay?"

  "Not okay." His voice was soft. "I'm miserable, too."

  When he wouldn't leave, Jane finally glanced up into his eyes, which were gentle and mournful and filled with some other powerful emotion she was afraid to believe in. He looked exhausted. There were circles under his gorgeous eyes. She wanted to rush into his arms, to comfort him.

  "I'm sorry about Saturday night," he said. "About what I said... to you afterward. I was angry."

  "So was - "

  "Hello, you two!" Andrea said in a lilting tone as she burst past Matt. "Gorgeous day." As always, she looked slim, energetic and incredibly smart in a simple red suit and a black blouse accessorized by trendy, gold jewelry. "It's great to catch you two together. I needed to let you know that the board is meeting in an hour with their decision. We want both of you present."

  A beat passed. Jane felt her collar, which she had buttoned all the way to the top, tighten painfully. She felt so faint she was sure all the blood had drained out of her brain.

  "All right," Jane said at last, trying to keep her voice steady.

  Andrea's smile flashed at Matt. "And, Matt, I have a few things I need to discuss with you before the meeting."

  "Sure." Although his gaze clung to Jane's for a few seconds longer than necessary, he nodded.

  "Well, then, I'll see you later," he said to Jane as he turned and dutifully followed Andrea down the hall.

  When they were gone, Jane got up and shut her door and then leaned against it. She felt her control slipping. Her eyes felt hot, her joints achy.

  He'd won!

  What shocked her were her feelings about it. She closed her eyes in self-disgust.

  She didn’t care if he'd won. She didn't care. In fact, she couldn't have borne to see him lose. All she wanted to know was what he would have said if only Andrea hadn't chosen that exact moment to interrupt them. The job didn't matter nearly as much as Matt did.

  But it was too late.

  "Jane Snow."

  Dumbfounded when she heard the CEO call her name instead of Matt's, Jane stood up slowly only to remain frozen in front of her seat, unable to move forward and shake the CEO's outstretched hand. Her mouth fell open in shock.

  "Way to go," Matt said. He stood and began to clap loudly for her.

  He was grinning from ear to ear. His dark face appeared incredibly happy and dear. He looked pleased - for her - sincerely overjoyed for her. Was he crazy?

  "I - I don't deserve it," she whispered, turning to him. "You do."

  "Sure you do," Matt said.

  She whirled wildly to Andrea. "You have to give it to him. He would be brilliant."

  "We know," she said, looking pleased and smug. "We were just getting ready to call his name, too. You two will make a wonderful team."

  Matt took Jane in his arms and hugged her.

  "Don't you dare kiss me," she whispered against his ear before they drew apart and tried to act like two grown-up professionals. "Or I won't be able to stop."

  "Well, that's good news. The best I've heard in a while."

  He let her go, threw back his head and laughed. Soon everybody in the room was laughing with them.

  "How about we go to lunch and celebrate, and discuss our plans for the future about the... job?" he said.

  She smiled.

  Jane was in her office, dictating a letter before dashing off to lunch with Matt, when Stephanie buzzed her and said her mother was on the phone.

  "Mom, I've got a lunch date. I can't talk now - unless it's urgent."

  "Urgent? It's a nightmare! But it'll only take a minute of your valuable time, I swear!"

  Jane sighed.

  "You were right and I was wrong," her mother said. "Sweetheart, I won't ever meddle in your life or Mindy's again. I shouldn't have let you think Matt wrote that letter."

  "Or led Matt to believe I wrote it."

  "So, he told you?"

  There was a long silence.

  "I just wanted you to be happy, sweetheart," her mother whispered.

  "Can we talk about it tonight?"

  As usual her mother was too full of herself to listen. "Bad as I was, you'll never guess what Helen Geary has gone and done and set the town in an uproar about - and all because of that same letter."

  Jane pressed her temples. She knew better than to even try to guess.

  "When Helen called me that morning about the secret admirer love letter and got me all excited because I thought Matt wrote it, which Matt's mother more or less confirmed... and then when I teased him about maybe you writing it and I could tell he was intrigued - "

  "Mom, I really do - "

  "Okay, I'll get straight to the point."

  Finally.

  "Helen called me that morning because the letter made her so furious she wanted to brain poor Jim." Jim was Helen's long-suffering husband. "She says there were things in that letter that sounded just like Jim. She told me she's been sure he's gaga over their next-door neighbor, Myrtle, for quite a while. Two days
ago she caught him talking to Myrtle in the square. But instead of confronting them, Helen wrote a vicious letter to the editor about the author of the love letter. She accused her husband of cheating on her with their next-door neighbor, and Helen didn't sign her letter either. She very deliberately put references in the letter Jim would recognize.

  Well, Ol' Bill printed it, and now the whole town's in an uproar. Jim's up and left Helen and Red Rock, and Helen's home crying her eyes out. Lots of people have been calling Ol' Bill, furious about that original letter, and each one of them thinks he knows for sure who wrote it, and it wasn't Jim. Several other husbands have left town too, and their wives are crying as well."

  "Spring Fling mischief and mayhem. Ol' Bill ought to be happy. Goodbye, Mother."

  "But, there's more - "

  "I'll drop by tonight. Promise. Oh, and I've got some great news."

  Mariachi music was playing as Jane and Matt walked hand in hand along the River Walk. The sunshine was golden in the trees, and the tourists were thick on the old stone bridges above the river. Not that Jane was aware of the hustle and bustle or the river traffic as barges motored past them.

  "You know what my wish was on your birthday when we were here the last time?" he murmured, lifting her hand to his lips.

  She shook her head, aware only of the sizzle of his mouth on her fingertips.

  "That we'd end up like this." He stopped and drew her into his arms. Slowly he lowered his mouth to hers.

  "Don't start. You know I can't - "

  He laughed. "I wished that we'd end up like this. Together." He kissed the tip of her nose and even that made her feel a little faint with desire. "Forever."

  "Is that what this is?" she whispered. "Forever?"

  "Do I have to go down on bended knee, darlin' ?"

  "Definitely. On two bended knees."

  "Here? In front of everybody? This is a very expensive suit."

  "I have a better idea," she said, grabbing the end of his yellow tie and tugging him playfully toward the stone stairs to the bridge that led to the street level.

  After a short walk in the brilliant Texas sunshine, they stood before the Alamo.

  "Here," she said. "In front of the most sacred shrine in the heart of all true-born Texas cowboys. Or at least in the hearts of guys who want to grow up to be cowboys."

  A tour bus pulled up and parked beside them, spewing diesel fumes.

  "Not to mention ten thousand tourists," he murmured as he ripped off his tie, threw it on the ground as a pad for his knees.

  He knelt. "Forever?" he said as he handed her a tiny black box.

  She opened it and sank to her knees too. "Forever," she agreed, smiling radiantly at him.

  He removed the sparkling diamond solitaire and slid it onto her finger.

  She threw her arms around him and kissed him on the mouth.

  "Does this mean we have a date for the Spring Fling?" She nodded happily. "We may be the only couple there."

  "Let's get a room at the best hotel on the river and make love all afternoon," he suggested huskily. He didn't have to ask her twice.

  "I love you," Matt said as he lifted her into his arms and twirled her round and round in the breathtaking hotel room fifteen stories above the sparkling river and cypress trees.

  "Tell me again," she whispered.

  "I love you."

  "Now kiss me again."

  "Not before you tell me."

  "I love you. I always have. And I. always will," she said.

  When he pulled her closer and began kissing her again, his mouth was teasingly gentle. Even so, she was soon too dizzy to stand.

  "I have to lie down," she murmured.

  "Great idea." He carried her to the bed, and they went into each other's arms again, petting, fondling, touching, undressing.

  Soon they were naked, and he lay beside her, stroking her, his eyes reveling in her voluptuous beauty. When his hands cupped her heavy breasts, and his fingertips circled her dark areolas and nipples, she began to feel pleased with her generous endowments, even proud of them. His tongue laved each breast. Then his mouth went lower, plumbing the delicate nub of flesh with an expertise that made her gasp shyly and then clutch his head closer when she began to throb with desire.

  He brought her to the edge before he took her lustfully. He made love to her again and again with a fevered passion that left them weak and spent.

  They napped and woke up in each other's arms.

  He kissed her mouth lightly.

  "I love you," she said.

  "Me too." He ran a fingertip down her belly. "Forever," he added. "When you were six and I pulled that ribbon out of your hair and you stuck your tongue out at me, did you realize where it would lead?"

  "I don't think I thought much past squashing your cowboy hat.

  "Oh, dear." She laughed. "What if our cats don't like each other?"

  "Darlin', this is a done deal." He kissed her again. And, of course, they couldn't stop.

  HIDDEN HEARTS

  Christine Rimmer

  Dear Reader,

  What's a self-motivated, big-hearted and independent young woman to do when she finds herself in love with her best friend? How can she make him see that there's more going on between them than friendship? How can she get him to realize that she's through playing "little sister" to his overprotective "big brother"?

  It's a tough one. Especially if the best friend and substitute "big brother" in question has painful and deep-seated reasons of his own for not letting himself love his "little sister" as the woman she is.

  Luckily, Annie Grant is no quitter. One way or another, she will find the true love she yearns for - whether Greg Flynn will finally open his eyes and see her as a grown woman ready for real love, or not.

  And getting Greg to see her as a woman isn't Annie's only problem. There's also her secret admirer, crazed video-store clerk, Dirk Jenkins.

  Annie loves Greg and Greg can't deal with it - and in the meantime, Dirk, gone seriously postal, is determined to save Annie from her own "nowhere" life - if he has to shoot someone to do it!

  Buckle up, folks - and I do hope you enjoy Hidden Hearts.

  Best always,

  Christine Rimmer

  Chapter 1

  Annie Grant regretted two things as she stared down the barrel of the big, black gun.

  One: That she never told Greg Flynn she loved him.

  Two: That she'd told Dirk Jenkins she didn't love him.

  Dirk was the one on the other end of the gun. His hand shook - and so did the gun. Sweat beaded at his temples and his left eye twitched. "It's all right, Annie," he said in a ragged whisper, sneaking furtive glances right and left. "I know you didn't mean what you said."

  It's all right? What was he thinking? When a person points a gun in your face, it's not all right. Annie cleared her clutching throat and opened her suddenly dust-dry mouth - to say what? Something along the lines of Dirk, put the gun down, please.

  But before she could get a word out, Dirk commanded, "Don't talk. And come out from behind that counter. Now."

  The counter in question was Annie's teller station at Red Rock Commerce Bank. Annie shot a quick look around. The other tellers went about their business, handling late-afternoon transactions. Out on the main floor, customers stood at the high circular counter, filling out deposit tickets and updating checkbook registers, or waited in the comfortable central seating area to speak to a loan officer. No one else seemed to notice Dirk and his gun. It was business as usual - for everyone but Annie.

  This couldn't really be happening, could it? Annie gaped at the sweating, shaking Dirk. Keeping her gaze locked on his, she slid her hand beneath the counter and gave the silent-alarm button a push.

  There. She'd done it. The Red Rock Police Department had been notified.

  Greg Flynn was an officer with the Red Rock PD Annie prayed that he'd answer the call....

  But no. On second thought, let someone else come and sa
ve the day. She didn't want Greg anywhere near here. Dirk might just shoot him....

  "Get your hands up where I can see them," Dirk ordered in that scary, raspy whisper. Sweat had begun to trickle from under his spiky straw-colored hair and drip down his sharp-boned, too-pale cheeks.

  The good news - the extremely excellent news - was that he didn't seem to have noticed she'd sounded the alarm. Annie sent a little prayer of abject gratitude winging heavenward as carefully, slowww-ly, she put her hands up in the air.

  That was when Myrna Plotz, the teller in the station next to Annie's, glanced over and saw what was happening.

  "Ohmigod!" Myrna let out a shriek piercing enough to shatter glass. "A gun! My God, he's got a gun!"

  Big mistake on Myrna's part. Dirk swung the gun her way. "Shut up or you're dead."

  Beneath the heavy coat of blusher Myrna always wore, her cheeks went sickly gray. "Omigod! Okay, okay. Whatever you say!" She subsided into pitiful whimpers.

  Myrna's shriek had alerted everyone else. They all froze in place. Pens hung poised above check registers. More than one mouth gaped open. Every saucer-wide eye was focused on Dirk.

  Lowering the gun a little, Dirk glanced over his shoulder and saw all those terrified faces. "Yeah. That's right. Nobody move," he commanded, and turned back to point the gun, once again, straight at Annie. His dishwater eyes were narrowed to slits. "You, either, babe. Stay right where you are till I say different."

  In the tiny part of her brain that wasn’t expecting any second to be shot in the face, Annie registered that Dirk sounded a little like James Cagney in Public Enemy. A movie buff, Dirk worked at the local video store. He'd often tried to amuse Annie with his bad imitations of old-time movie stars.

  And look at him now. Playing Cagney again - this time for real. "All a youse behind the counter, get out here where I can keep an eye on ya. Do it now, or one a youse gets it right between the eyes. You too, Annie."

  Youse? Annie thought. Youse. Oh, God. To be shot in cold blood by a crazed video-store clerk doing a bad Cagney imitation. Did it get any worse? She pondered that question as she and Myrna and the other tellers filed out onto the main floor of the bank.