Chapter 1
Courtney Nichols Collins loved flying. She just hated airplanes. Airplanes did all sorts of unexpected things. Like crash.
Today, however, she wasn't thinking about that. Today, all she wanted was for the blasted plane to get in the air and then land in New York intact. Artist Barry McWaters was having the biggest show of his career. He owed part of that to her, not that she felt anything was due her. She'd given him a break more years ago than she cared to think about. He'd invited her to be with him when the show opened. She felt honored.
She stowed her carry-on bag and settled in her seat. Looking out the window, she couldn't see much yet. Workers scurried to and fro across the tarmac performing myriad last minute details before the plane took to the air. It didn't take her mind off the fact that she'd allowed her upset over a conversation with her ex-husband lead to her saying some very unkind things to Barry when last they'd spoken. Unkind and unfair.
And Barry, with typical Barry reserve, had simply told her to 'sleep well' and said good night, ending their phone call. His understanding only made her feel worse about unloading on him.
She didn't really listen as the flight attendant gave the standard welcome and instructions. She'd already heard it more than enough times. She fastened her seat belt and leaned back, closing her eyes with the hope of getting a nap. The seat next to hers was vacant so she didn't need to make polite small talk with a total stranger.
The next thing she knew the flight attendant was gently touching her shoulder and telling her they would be landing in ten minutes. She looked out the window at the magnificent New York skyline.
Her skin prickled uncomfortably as her eyes traveled to where the World Trade Center towers once stood. This was the first time she'd been to New York since they'd been destroyed and the world had changed.
Once on the ground, she retrieved her one suitcase without any hitches and grabbed the first available taxi. She settled in her room at the Soho Grand Hotel, trying not to be dismayed that Barry had booked her a room here.
The Soho Grand was close to Tribeca and the Hawke Gallery. It made sense to have lodging as close as possible. That didn't bother her.
What bothered her was that Barry had the room next to hers.
And what really bothered her was she didn't know if she was angry or hopeful. That's what Barry McWaters did to her these days.
She kicked off her tennis shoes and flopped on the bed. It was three o'clock. She had to be at the Hawke Gallery by eight. Plenty of time to call room service, eat, get showered and dressed.
She hopped off the bed and started unpacking. She hung up the dress she'd be wearing tonight, examining it with a critical eye. It had traveled quite well. So had the little jacket that went with it.
Shoes, hose and jewelry all came out of the suitcase. She wasn't going to stand out in the crowd, but she'd at least make an acceptable showing. The room service menu was on the dresser and she'd just picked it up when there was a knock on her door. She didn't need to be psychic to know who it was.
She opened the door. Barry McWaters stood there, almost hidden from view by a large floral arrangement.
"Hello, Courtney. Welcome to New York." He brushed past her to set the flowers on the desk.
"Hello, Barry. Come in," she said dryly as he pulled a small button carnation from the arrangement and handed it to her. "The flowers are lovely."
And so were his green eyes with their incredible long, dark lashes. She had to get a grip on herself. She'd known him too long to be reacting like this.
"Hmm. I've been getting them all day from all sorts of people."
"Female people?"
He flashed her that roguish grin he had. "Mostly."
Courtney wasn't surprised. At six foot two, Barry's height turned female heads. And that was before they noticed the unruly black hair and mischievous eyes.
And when he had that scruffy three or four days worth of dark beard on his face, like he did right now, he was almost irresistible. Almost.
She was having a difficult time of resisting lately, and she wanted to resist. Her recent divorce still stung.
Of course, being an artist, Barry turned a lot of male heads, too. It was a constant source of embarrassment to him and amusement to all his friends. Courtney had a sudden flash of insight. She plucked the card from the arrangement a split second before Barry reached it.
"'Love, Jules.'" She grinned at him. "And just who is 'Jules?'"
"Don't ask."
"So I get the flowers Jules sent you? Gee, Barry, how thoughtful."
"Listen, I'm out of places to set all the arrangements in my room. I thought you'd enjoy them." He looked her up and down with that damn cool gaze of his. "I'll just go piss off somewhere now. How's that for thoughtful?"
"Barry, wait." She grabbed his arm as he brushed past her on his way back to the door. "I'm sorry. I meant to tease you. The flowers are lovely, no matter where they came from."
She wanted to curl up into a ball and pull the covers over her head. No matter what she did these days, it didn't seem to be right. And it wasn't only with Barry.
Saying the wrong thing had become a way of life for her since she'd parted company with her cheating husband. She wondered sometimes if the universe was punishing her. She was tired of it.
He looked out the window then picked up the room service menu she'd been looking at. "Okay. Are you hungry? There's a little bistro up the street we can try. My treat."
Courtney nodded. He was holding out an olive branch that she'd better accept. They'd not get through the evening if she didn't.
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