He let the weights slam to the floor. The crashing noise covered the curse he released on an exhale. The anger that gripped him like a vise wasn’t directed toward Faith or even toward that moron Sills—after all, he couldn’t fault the man’s taste. No, he was angry with himself.
For not jumping on the back of that cab a year ago to keep her from driving away.
For not calling her the next day and the next and the next and begging her forgiveness for being as dense as a tree where romance was concerned.
For concocting that preposterous story about living with someone in the hopes of making her jealous, then topping that lie with an even bigger whopper about planning to propose to the nonexistent woman.
And for not having the guts to follow through on his urge to confess his all-around idiocy and to do what he’d been aching to do since he’d walked through that damned red door—kiss Faith Sherman as she’d never been kissed before.
He sighed and wiped his face and neck with a white towel. Not that the most persuasive kissing in all of history would do him any good.
What am I looking for? A re-la-tion-ship. A bona fide, old-fashioned, one-man, one-woman thing, he recalled her saying.
And that was the reason he hadn’t jumped on the back of the cab or called her the next day. That was the reason he’d lied about having a serious girlfriend. That was the reason he hadn’t confessed his tall tale. Because Faith Sherman was holding out for a man who could promise her forever. And she’d likely prefer someone in her own social circle. He could promise only a few hot nights in bed, and his social circle included police department snitches. He knew himself and his short attention span well enough to know that even the powerful attraction he felt for her was not enough on which to build a long-term relationship. He had no business toying with a woman who had made her expectations perfectly clear. He didn’t want to be responsible for someone else’s happiness. He didn’t want to be tied down. He’d lived in the same apartment for four years, and still paid his rent month to month. He didn’t even own a watch, for heaven’s sake!
No. Better to keep a lid on his libido until this assignment passed. Then he could forget about Faith and get back to his life. He flexed his leg and, satisfied at the diminished level of pain, pushed himself to his feet. A woman across the gym running on a treadmill caught his eye, but he had to look twice to be sure. Faith? Damnation, those were definitely her legs. He bit his tongue. The long, strong rest of her was outlined in damp, snug, brief clothing.
The lid to his libido developed a sudden vibration.
FAITH WISHED she had brought her own CD to listen to while she ran, but typically she could find something upbeat on the radio. Tonight, however, Chicago disc jockeys seemed to be gearing up for Valentine’s Day by spinning every sad love song recorded in the past decade. Unrequited love. Broken hearts. Star-crossed lovers.
She’d come here hoping to forget about Carter for a couple of hours, to sweat him out of her system, or at least to exhaust herself until she was guaranteed a few hours’ sleep tonight. He had been bad-tempered all day, snapping at Ben and even a couple of young boys who were roughhousing while in line to see the Valentino diamond. And when she had broached the subject of Trudy’s ring again, hinting that they offered a generous financing plan, he’d glowered and said thanks but he didn’t need her help, after all.
A shadow fell across her digital display. She turned her head to tell the person she still had a mile to go, then almost lost her footing when she saw Carter standing there. She slowed the treadmill to a walk, and lowered her headphones to her neck. Her heart was pounding, but she couldn’t rightfully blame it all on her aerobic workout—not when Carter was her every erotic dream come true in long, loose gray sweatpants, a white muscle shirt over toned, glistening skin. He had a towel slung around his neck, and his dark hair was wet and curly around his face and neck, his color was high from exertion. And he didn’t exactly look happy to see her.
“Hello,” she said, reaching for her own towel to wipe her neck and arms. Her gaze darted around—was one of the blond gym bunnies Trudy? The svelte woman on the stair machine? The stunner on the cross-country ski contraption?
“Hello,” he said. “Fancy meeting you here.”
He looked her up and down, and she was suddenly aware of how wet and clingy her clothing was. Resisting the urge to cover some bare skin with her hand towel, she maintained a slow walk on the treadmill. “Are you a member here?”
“Temporarily. My gym is near the station. But considering the proximity to your store, this location is more convenient to finish my rehab exercises.”
“How’s that going?”
“By the time I finish the security assignment, I should be ready to get back out on the street.”
“That’s good news. I’m sure your captain will be happy to have you back.”
He made a noncommittal noise.
She looked around again. “Are you here alone?”
He frowned. “Hmm? Oh…yeah, I’m here alone. You?”
“Yes.”
He leaned on the treadmill rail. “Thought maybe Ben Sills had tagged along.”
She squinted. “Pardon me?”
“That cop wannabe was following you around the store today like a lapdog.”
Piqued at his tone, she reached for her water bottle. “I know you and Ben don’t get along, but for heaven’s sake, Carter, you almost sound…jealous.”
His shoulders pulled back. “Jealous? That’s ridiculous. You and I aren’t dating.” He seesawed the towel back and forth on his neck. “Besides, I have…Trudy.”
Hurt and embarrassment flooded her, but she was determined not to let on. “I meant jealous over guarding the diamond.”
“Oh.” He had the grace to look uncomfortable, then his eyebrows pulled together. “I just don’t trust that guy. I think you should be careful around him.”
Oh, that was rich, coming from the man who had hurt her more than even she had realized until the past few days. She might have laughed, if she hadn’t felt so incensed. A year’s worth of pent-up anger and frustration billowed in her chest, but she managed to keep her voice steady. “I appreciate your concern, Carter, but what Ben Sills does for me, to me or with me is really none of your business. Now, if you don’t mind, I have plans later, and I’d like to finish my run.” She returned her headphones to her ears, then increased the speed on the treadmill until she was back up to a run.
From his shadow, she knew he stood there for a full thirty seconds, but she refused to acknowledge him. She did, however, succumb to a flash of misery when his shadow disappeared. Short-lived, ill-suited, badly timed. No matter how one summed up their haphazard relationship, she and Carter simply weren’t meant to be.
She ran one, then two more miles to boy-band love ballads in an attempt to purge her frustration. Then, afterward, she stretched to cool down. She didn’t look for Carter, didn’t see him, and didn’t expect to. Feeling shaky and at loose ends, Faith piled on a coat, hat, gloves, scarf, and boots, then gathered her gym bag and headed home for her “plans”—a long, hot bath and an overdue cry.
CHAPTER SIX
Saturday, February 8, 2003
CARTER WAS THANKFUL for the Saturday crowd of people who’d heard about the massive Valentino diamond and wanted to take a gander at it. Constantly scanning the bodies queued up in serpentine fashion between black velvet ropes, and standing sentinel next to the glass case, helped pass the day without too many awkward encounters with Faith. Of course, she was busy in her own regard, maybe more so, handing out little cards to anyone willing to take a few minutes to create something called a “wish list,” and waiting on customers without a break in her smile or her step.
He’d replayed yesterday’s events in his mind until he wished he could hit an erase button. He’d snapped at everyone in sight, including Faith when she hinted that she could arrange special financing for “Trudy’s” ring. He’d felt like a louse for deceiving her, not to mention embarrassed and annoyed that she assumed he had no resources. Of course, why wouldn’t she? He’d agreed to look at the rings only to be alone with her, then pretended the prices were out of his reach to get out of buying one! The truth was, he didn’t earn an exorbitant salary, but he spent much less than he made, and he could have paid cash for any two rings on that tray, dammit, if he’d had a mind to.
So now on top of all her other opinions of him, she also thought he was poor—or cheap. And while that played into his plan of not becoming involved with Faith, it did not play well into his ego. He sank his hand into his pocket and fingered the small box that had burned a hole into his thigh all day. His mind kept saying that he might as well take care of an item of family business while he had access to a jeweler that he could trust. But his heart chimed in that revealing the box would go a long way in soothing his pride.
Last night at the gym…well, that had been a pure fuster-cluck all the way around. He suspected that Faith had gone out with Sills afterward because this morning the man kept hinting at what a “hot” date he’d had. The thought of the two of them together made him want to break something—especially since the guy was traveling on to Schenectady or somewhere after this gig was over. If Faith was suddenly hip to the idea of having a fling, why not have one with him?