Carol Steward - Finding Amy

He placed a finger over her lips, then turned her back toward the terrace and leaned close. “Probably nothing, but I’d rather these two not notice us.”

“Who?” Voices behind her got louder and Jessica turned.

Sam took her by the shoulders and pulled her close. “Don’t look,” he demanded softly.

“Excuse me?” She pushed against him.

His grip on her arms loosened, but he didn’t let her move away. “Pretend to kiss me—maybe they’ll think we’re just guests at the hotel out for a romantic walk.”

“Pretend…” He pulled her into his warm embrace and his face brushed near enough for her to feel that he needed to shave. “This is going to cost you.”

“Whatever you want.” His lips were a whisper away. So close she could feel the warmth of his breath. Her heart beat faster.

“You mean it?”

“Yeah, sure.” He rested his strong hand on her waist and turned their bodies slightly, looking over her shoulder. “There, that’s better.”

His words faded suddenly as his lips met hers. For a man who didn’t give a hoot about her, his kiss certainly packed a punch. Didn’t matter, she told herself. She was about to return the favor the next time he let her come up for air. Before she knew it, the only noise she heard was the musical rhythm of her own heart.

She didn’t notice the pain in her back. She didn’t notice that the sun had completely dropped behind the mountains, or that the terrace lights had come on. For a minute she wondered if Sam had forgotten that this was a ruse. Then suddenly he pushed her away and looked around, seemingly convinced that they were alone.

“Think they fell for it?” She didn’t know where she’d come up with the presence of mind to ask such a bland question when her heart was dancing.

He laughed. “Yeah, they’re gone now. Sorry about that.”

She smiled back. “Not a problem. You know what they say about paybacks…”

“What about it? Take you for coffee?”

“You’re not even close,” she said. “Very, very cold, in fact.” Jessica shook her head and crossed her arms in front of her. “That’s going to cost you. Big.”

“What are you talking about?”

“As you may or may not know, I’m the Development Director at the Galilee Women’s Shelter. In other words, I’m in charge of making enough money for the shelter to stay open. Since your mom is a volunteer, I’m sure she’s told you about the fund-raiser next month.”

He looked puzzled. “Other than talking my sister into helping with it, she hasn’t given any details.”

Jessica suspected as much. She also knew that Lidia was sure Sam would turn her down, which was why Jessica was here, getting kissed, which she hoped she didn’t have to do with every participant. She could guarantee it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun as kissing Sam.

He looked at her warily. “Why?”

“I need eligible bachelors, which you must be or you’d probably be very worried about someone seeing that kiss.”

He looked either sick or angry, she wasn’t quite sure which.

She raised her eyebrows playfully. “Trust me, it’s for a worthy cause.”

He shook his head immediately. “No.”

Jessica glared at him and wiped her lips. “No? Did Sammy say no?”

There was no question now, he was angry.

“That kiss was as much for your protection as mine.”

She laughed. “Right. And that is the worst pickup line I’ve ever heard.”

“Trust me, Jessica…” His voice faded.

“I believe you said ‘whatever you want’ when I warned you it would cost you.”

Sam pulled her out of the trees and walked toward the terrace. She felt completely safe in his hands, but couldn’t deny how much she enjoyed having the advantage. She didn’t imagine he was accustomed to being at a disadvantage in any situation.

“Just tell me what I owe you.”

“Congratulations, Samuel Vance, you’ve been unanimously nominated to be one of Colorado Springs’s most eligible bachelors in our bachelor auction. One lucky woman will be your guest on the dream date of your choosing.”

The look on his face was priceless. His olive-hued complexion suddenly looked like he’d spent a month in the sun. His eyebrows drew together to form one black line above his deep-set brown eyes and the smile was long gone.

“You’re expected to be one of the top money-makers, if that helps any. And if that kiss was any indication, I’d say they’re right.”

S am couldn’t imagine what had gotten into him. He wasn’t the impulsive type. And party-girls like Jessica Mathers certainly weren’t his typical weakness either. And even the hour or two he’d spent talking with Jessica blew that partying, lush image all to pieces. She hadn’t even been drinking, as he’d presumed. Her glass had been filled with nothing stronger than ginger ale. Some detective he was—couldn’t even tell champagne from soda. So what had she been drinking all those weeks at the café if she wasn’t drinking wine? It certainly hadn’t looked like ginger ale.

He’d be sure to ask his mother the next time they had lunch at the café. That is, unless his father decided to join them. The one part of his life that Sam would just as soon keep Dad out of was his love life—or lack of one. Max could not understand why Sam was still single at thirty-two. Sam couldn’t help it that his parents had been lucky enough to find the right person the first go-round. Sam had discovered quickly what a rare woman his mother truly was—strong, patient, trusting and very capable of handling a houseful of kids all on her own. With his dad out of the country much of his childhood, Sam had grown especially close to his mother, which fostered uncommonly high expectations when it came time to choose a wife. Yes, his father was a lucky man. Sam could only hope to find such a treasure for himself. When he found the right woman—if he found her—he’d take all the time needed to make sure they were right for one another. According to his sister, Lucia, Sam would never find a woman to measure up to the outlandish expectations he’d set. Only God knew for sure.

It was too late to be outside shooting baskets. Where was his brother when he needed a sparring partner?

“How’d I get myself into this mess?” he mumbled as the impact of the evening set in. Of all the women, it had to be Jessica Mathers. Hoping not to bother the neighbors, he closed the windows and started the central air-conditioning, then turned on the keyboard. He played familiar rock-and-roll tunes that helped him release the pent-up frustration so he could clear his mind and focus on the praise music for tomorrow’s service.

An hour later, he gave in to the fatigue and got ready to turn in. Sam tuned the radio to his favorite station, determined to get Jessica out of his head. Every time she drifted into his mind, he forced his thoughts elsewhere.

The replacement wasn’t much easier to deal with tonight. Visions and voices ran a play-by-play of his father talking to Alistair Barclay, a man too smooth to be on the up-and-up. Barclay had blown into town a few years ago and started throwing his weight around, along with his money.

As a part of the Vice Division, Sam was well aware of the increased drug activity in the city. With drugs came countless other problems. And instinct told Sam that Barclay was one man to keep an eye on. He drove fast cars and had a harem of equally speedy escorts to keep him company. Women with model figures and faces to match were only interested in a sleaze like Barclay for one reason, and the red comb-over wasn’t it. Sam found it amazing what money could buy. A woman’s love and loyalty was the one thing Sam refused to pay for.