More than once, he’d admired her direct, unemotional approach to problems. She was a rare combination of strength and feminine softness. From the first moment he’d met her, she’d intrigued him. Intelligent. Fascinating. And beautiful. The direct unblinking beauty of her large eyes haunted him. The proud lift of her chin made him want to cup her face in his hands and taste her sweet lips. He wanted her.
But he knew better than to bring any woman into his life. His mother had warned him that Delaney men brought only destruction to those foolish enough to fall in love with them. His heart constricted when he thought about Elena, his first love, who had drowned before his very eyes. God forgive him if he’d already betrayed Della Arnell by selling the hotel to her.
“If you really don’t want to go…?” I should have stayed away from her, he thought when he saw her ashen face.
“No, it’s all right. I have to get out of this place.” She turned away abruptly and preceded him out the front door.
He silently swore. It was the hotel. The blasted hotel. The past was like a cancerous growth that would not go away.
They walked in silence. After a couple of blocks, Della was aware that Colin was striding beside her with a ferocity that did little to ease the tightness in her chest and stomach. Why had she agreed to go with him? Her lips quivered. Desperation, that’s why. She hadn’t wanted to be alone in the hotel—alone with ghosts of the past.
He stopped abruptly when they reached the restaurant. “I don’t feel like going to any meeting.” He put a hand on her elbow and guided her past the café. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” She was relieved that he’d been perceptive enough to know that sitting in a room full of businesspeople, making polite remarks and trying to listen to a dinner speaker were more than she could handle.
She glanced at his profile and saw tight muscles flickering in his taut cheeks. Had her mood affected him so much that he was willing to forgo his civic duty? What was going on behind those deep-set eyes of his? His dedication to upgrading Market and Larimer streets was almost a religious passion, as if he felt compelled to single-handedly eradicate all evidence of the town’s early red-light district. Once again she wondered if his obsession with the past could somehow be responsible for her terrifying fantasies. Had he mesmerized her in some way, so that she was seeing the hotel through a historical haze?
He caught her apprehensive look and pulled her to a stop. “What’s the matter? You’re looking at me as if I have horns sprouting from my forehead. Tell me what’s going on.”
She moistened her lips. I’m going crazy. Old-fashioned ladies of the night are wandering around my hotel. I even found one taking a bath upstairs. For a horrid moment, she wasn’t sure whether or not she had spoken her thoughts aloud. When his expression remained the same, she knew that he was still waiting for an answer.
“I…I’ve been having bad dreams,” she stammered. That was close enough. Dreams were accepted as a sane phenomenon and she couldn’t tell him the truth. She couldn’t tell anyone. She kept her eyes focused slightly to the right of his face so she wouldn’t have to meet his eyes.
“What kind of dreams?”
“I…I don’t remember,” she lied.
His dark eyebrows narrowed over the bridge of his nose. “You don’t remember?”
She pointed to an outdoor café across the street. “I need a drink.”
They were waiting for the light to change when the sidewalk suddenly dipped beneath her feet. She gasped, wavered and grabbed Colin to steady herself.
What was happening?
She could see Colin’s lips moving but couldn’t hear what he was saying. Everything around her was in flux. Panic-stricken, her eyes darted in every direction. The buildings, the people, the smells, the noise. Her ears roared with the sound of horses neighing and carriage wheels clattering over rough streets. She cried out and covered her ears with her hands.
“What’s wrong?” she heard Colin ask.
She tried to jerk away from him as he pulled her against him, caught in a panicked impulse to flee, to hide, to escape from the assaulting sounds and sights that had no reality. “Let me go,” she sobbed against his chest.
“It’s all right, it’s all right.” He stroked her hair and put his lips against her moist forehead.
After a moment, the ground stabilized under her feet. With terror caught in her throat, Della gingerly raised her head from his chest. No horses, no wagons, no unfamiliar buildings. Cars roared by and the whirling blades of a helicopter sounded overhead. The stores, the people and the shops were just as they had been. Her strangled breath came in short gasps.
“Let’s get that drink,” he said. He kept a firm arm around her waist as he guided her across the street to the outdoor café, and eased her onto one of the chairs. “Scotch and water,” he barked to a hovering waiter and held up two fingers. Then he sat down opposite her. “All right. Tell me what’s going on.”
“I guess I had some kind of…of a spell,” she said lamely. She wanted to tell him what was happening to her but she couldn’t reveal the unbelievable truth. I see and hear things that aren’t there. I think I’m going crazy.
He frowned. “Your eyes were round with terror. Something frightened you.” His intense blue eyes suddenly darkened to almost black. “Don’t lie to me.”
“Why should I lie to you?” she said with some of her normal spirit. “Please don’t ask me to explain. I need time to sort things out. And I don’t want to talk about it, all right?” How could she tell him what was happening to her when she didn’t know, herself?
The waiter arrived with the drinks. She held her glass with trembling hands and gratefully let the fiery liquid ease down her throat. She kept her eyes lowered.
Colin’s troubled gaze appraised her over the rim of his menu. “I recommend the black bean soup and Monte Carlo sandwich.” She nodded and he ordered another drink with their food.
The surrounding laughter and easy chatter of other diners was reassuring. An early-evening crowd sauntered along the sidewalk in front of the café, and slowly the weird illusion of horses and wagons faded as if it had never happened. She began to relax.
When their order came, and she had eaten what little she could, Della glanced anxiously at Colin. What must he think of her? “I’m really sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“I want to know what happened.” He leaned forward, offering his hand, but she didn’t take it. Instead, she drew back in her chair. His mouth tightened and a muscle quivered in his cheek.
She could see that her rejection had offended him. But how could she explain that she was entertaining dangerous feelings about him that were too strong to deny. He was engaging her emotions on levels she had never felt before. If the truth were known, he scared her.
“I know about dreams…nightmares…unexplained visions,” he said as if trying to encourage her confidence. “Don’t be afraid. You can share them with me.” The blue in his eyes deepened to a strange feathery black. “I’ll understand.”
She stared at him and suddenly her mouth went dry. I’ll understand. The shadowy figure at the end of the hall and the outline at the rain-streaked door…both times the impressions had made her think of Colin. And now, on the street, he had been with her when the bizarre illusion had assaulted her. Her pulse began to pound in her temples. Her thoughts whirled. Get hold of yourself. She really was losing it. Trying to tie Colin in with the aberrations of her mind was utterly ridiculous. She felt herself coloring under his measuring stare.
“I knew…I knew I was too tired to go out tonight,” she stammered. “You should have gone to the dinner without me. It’s still early. You can still make the meeting…”
“Damn the meeting,” he said gruffly.