Tara Taylor Quinn - Love By Association

When her libido leaped in response, Chantel took a sip of water and then added, “I’m going to go back to it, though. I talked to my folks last night. They agreed to give me as much time as I need to finish the book, as long as I would return to the family business when it’s done. In the meantime, they’re going to be sending work my way. Things they want my decisions on.”

There. Cleared up a bunch of issues. Namely, any chance that Colin Fairbanks would think there was any future in a relationship between them. It also negated any need for her to be in the market for a permanent residence. Something she had a feeling this friendly and powerful bunch would be glad to help with.

His hand didn’t leave her lap. Julie didn’t respond, either. She was looking at her brother and was no longer smiling.

Did she know what Colin was doing to Chantel under the table? And she disapproved? She’d gotten the impression earlier that Julie had been pleased to meet her...

“What do you all think?” Leslie’s voice raised as she addressed the table, halting private conversations. In that first second Chantel froze, heat rising up her neck and face. Did everyone know how her body was responding to the chaste touch of a man’s hand?

“Did everyone get a chance to try everything?” Leslie followed her first question with a second.

Chantel hadn’t had any quiche. Everyone else nodded.

“We need to make a choice today.” The caterers weren’t being mentioned by name. A had provided the quiche. B was the salad and bread assortments. C had brought some kind of grilled chicken that, in spite of the fact that it was chicken, the meat that was served at every banquet Chantel had ever attended, was delicious. Leslie passed around menus provided by all three caterers minus any kind of identifying determiner.

Discussion ensued. Chantel listened. Agreeing with Julie on every point she brought up—the flavors that, while gourmet, wouldn’t please as wide a range of palette as others. The need for a variety of options for those who couldn’t tolerate rich food but yet preventing the dreaded “bland” moniker being slapped on the evening. Colin opted for the meat and potatoes option over fondue and finger foods, his fingers leaving little caresses just above her knee.

As conversation died down, Leslie called for a show of hands in favor of A, followed by B and C. C had the job unanimously.

And Colin leaned over to ask her if he and Julie could drop her off at her hotel after their tour of the mansion, preventing the need for her to call and then wait for a ride.

Her announcement that she wasn’t going to be around for long hadn’t seemed to slow him down a bit. He was knowingly embarking on a short-time flirtation.

Which made him fair game.

She accepted his offer of a lift.

CHAPTER SEVEN

COLIN WAS READY to take the tour and go. Julie’s gaze had bruised him a bit. His little sister was pissed at him for keeping Chantel’s publishing background from her. He’d known she would be. But if he’d told her right up front, she’d probably have refused to meet her with an open mind.

Ever since the rape, she’d been slowly becoming more closed-minded. Stubborn.

Could he be blamed for caring enough to try to help her?

And Chantel...maybe she’d be free to have dinner with him that night. Just the two of them...

As Leslie was concluding the business portion of the day, the outer door of the library sounded. Someone had just come in.

“Ladies and gentlemen, dessert has arrived,” Leslie said, smiling, as a couple of white-coated women came into the room, each carrying a large brown box. And right behind them was...Patricia Reynolds—Commissioner Paul Reynolds’s wife.

Colin stiffened. What in hell the police commissioner’s wife was doing there he didn’t know. And he wouldn’t have cared, if not for the fact that Julie was sitting just a few feet away from him.

This was why she didn’t go out much. To avoid unexpected appearances...

“Now that the catering decision has been made, I can tell you that Patricia Reynolds has volunteered to handle the catering details for the mystery gala. As you all know, her daughter and son-in-law own Beachside Catering and, to avoid a potential conflict of interest, Patricia didn’t want to take on her duties until our choice had been made.”

Patricia smiled, including everyone in her greeting. The woman gave endlessly to the community. Volunteering everyplace she could. Providing companionship and guidance through a youth program she’d helped develop to young women who’d gone astray. If not for the fact that she was married to a man who could be bought, Colin would have liked the woman.

“Regardless of who we chose, Beachside Catering was providing our dessert today. But now I can tell you that caterer C, your unanimous choice, is none other than Beachside Catering.” Leslie smiled as Patricia nodded toward the two women who were standing by a counter in the back of the room.

Crème de menthe parfaits were being passed around by the time Patricia settled into the empty seat at the end of the table between John and Colin, as far away from Julie as she could be while still being seated at the same table. Colin supposed Leslie was responsible for that.

But he had to wonder why the other woman had gone along with a plan to include Patricia on the committee at all. Leslie Morrison, the one person in their crowd who knew the details of Julie’s rape, was usually the one who ran interference for his sister, to avoid exactly the kind of situation they now faced.

Bad enough that Patricia was on the committee, but to have blindsided Julie...

He was going to have a word with Leslie.

Later.

* * *

CHANTEL HAD NEVER been in a home, free to wander in and out of every single room, as magnificent as the Estrada-mansion-turned-library. If she hadn’t been conscious of Colin’s time, and the fact that Julie didn’t seem to be feeling very well after lunch, she could have spent hours exploring the nooks and crannies of the place.

She couldn’t imagine ever living there, however. Seemed like a lonely existence to her, having so much space to separate family members. And the idea of having to dust the place...

Julie didn’t say much as they issued their farewells and made their way to Colin’s town car. She slid into the backseat before Chantel could offer to do so, forcing Chantel to sit up front with Colin.

Not a bad thing. Just a little awkward at the moment, considering that ever since he’d had his hand on her knee, she’d been half-turned-on.

She knew that when cops went under they had to do a lot of things to protect their cover—take drugs, even—but having sex for the sake of the job was not something she’d ever do. Or have the department expect her to do.

She’d be fine. She just needed a few minutes back in her own environment to process what had happened. She wanted out of the heels.

And to scrub her face. She remembered why she eschewed makeup. It made her skin itch.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to run Julie home first,” Colin said as he started the car. “I’m heading to the office, and the resort is in between.”

“That’s fine,” she said, and tried to ignore the tingle she felt at the realization that she was going to be completely alone with him for the first time.

Would he fill the time with small talk? Or try to get personal?

She needed him to get personal. To take the next step in making them an item. A temporary one. A spring fling.

Problem was, she wanted it, too...

“You okay with that?” Colin was looking in the rearview mirror, obviously addressing his sister.

“Of course,” Julie said and nothing else. Colin didn’t ask her if she felt okay or if anything was wrong. It wasn’t Chantel’s business, but...