Page 156 of Confessions

“I’d...I’d like that.”

He hesitated. “I think the whole damned town will be there. People at tryouts were talking about it. Even Tracy.”

Carlie’s muscles tightened. “She was invited?”

“Her father worked for Fitzpatrick for forty years. Seems as if she knows him and Toni.”

Carlie felt a huge sense of disappointment, but Ben reached for her and drew her into the circle of his arms. “I guess I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to be alone with you.” His smile was sexy.

“Yes.” She knew she should tell him no, but couldn’t, not while he was touching her. Then she remembered. “Oh, no, that doesn’t work, either. Believe it or not, I’ve got a dinner meeting with Thomas Fitzpatrick.”

He didn’t move, just stood there stunned, as if she’d slapped him. “A dinner date?” he repeated, his eyes slitting suspiciously.

“Yes. He asked me a few weeks ago and I turned him down, even canceling once, but he insists that we have to talk about the photographs for the company brochure—”

“Over dinner?”

“Hey, it wasn’t my idea.”

“But you went along with it.”

“That’s right, Ben, I did,” she said, suddenly angry. All her coiled emotions released in a burst of fury. “Just like you might have lunch or dinner with a potential client. It?

?s no big deal.”

“With Fitzpatrick, everything’s a big deal! Do you know that he’s planning to buy this house?”

“This house?” she whispered, glancing around her apartment. “This house.”

“Yep. All of a sudden it seems as if old Tom has an interest in the property.” He clamped his hands under his arms. “I wondered if it had anything to do with you.”

“Of course not!”

His skeptical look said he didn’t believe her.

“What is this phobia you’ve got against the man?”

“He’s slimy and two-faced and out for number one.”

“I know that. Don’t worry about me, Ben. I can take care of myself.”

“Maybe I don’t want that,” he said, his eyes growing dark. “Maybe I want to take care of you.”

Her throat closed for an instant and her anger melted away. It was so easy, so damned easy, to trust him. “I don’t want someone to take care of me. I’m not a child. I make my own decisions, one of which is to go out to dinner with Fitzpatrick and hear what he has to say.”

The skin tightened over his cheekbones and he looked as if he wanted to spit out a string of blue oaths, but he held his tongue, turned on his heel and headed down the stairs.

“Great,” Carlie mumbled to herself. “Just great.” She slammed the door behind her and wondered why she bothered with Ben. His moods were mercurial and now he wanted to control her.

You bother with Ben because you love him.

“Then you’re a fool, Carlie Surrett,” she told herself as she flopped down on the couch and wondered if she’d made a mistake returning to Gold Creek. Maybe she would have been better off staying away.

You can’t run forever. And she wouldn’t. Ben Powell or no Ben Powell.

* * *

TONI FITZPATRICK’S ENGAGEMENT party was the social event of the year. Miniature lights twinkled from a forest of potted trees and red, white and silver ribbons looped from the chandeliers, which were suspended above the main dining room at the Coleville Country Club. Silver balloons floated lazily to the two-storied ceiling. An ice sculpture of twin swans rose from a table laden with platters of fruit, caviar and hors d’oeuvres. Champagne bubbled from a three-tiered fountain and chefs stood at attention behind serving trays of roast beef, turkey and ham. Lobster, prawns and salmon were served at yet another table and a dessert cart offered chocolates, truffle cake and raspberry mousse.