Her Sweet Talkin' Man (2 page)

Her eyes flew open, and he didn't have to ask why. “No husband,” he deduced automatically. “Well, all right, then. No husband, but you look like a very independent woman. You obviously are a busy and capable woman. You still have that clipboard,” he
teased. “And you've made it clear that you don't need any help from a man. You can transport yourself to the ocean. You
are
a career woman, aren't you?” he asked, indicating the pin she wore that said Mission Creek Memorial staff. “You probably hate the fact that one of the first things men notice about you is your legs.”

Her cheeks turned a delicious shade of rose. Embarrassment or anger? he wondered. Actually he hoped he hadn't embarrassed her when what he'd been aiming for was a little indignation on her part. Anger was a good thing at times. It could take a person's mind off his or her problems. He knew about using anger to run from troubles.

“My legs?” she asked as if she hadn't heard him right. Maybe she hadn't when she was so frightened she could barely think, much less hear.

“Absolutely beautiful,” he said, wondering what in hell he was doing and where this was leading.

But just at that moment the elevator began to move again. The beauty gasped. Reality sank in. She smiled in relief, automatically turning to him to share the moment.

He smiled back, entranced by the sheer joy on her face.

And then the elevator stopped again.

Ace didn't give her time even to think about the fact that salvation had been stolen from her. He didn't want to see what that kind of fear and disappointment could do to her. Instead, he swooped in close, crowding her, knowing that the nearness of his body would be a distraction, although probably an unwelcome one
for a woman such as this. “Tell me what that pin is for and why you were carrying that clipboard,” he said, searching for a topic to take her mind off her troubles.

The clipboard was still on the floor at her feet. To see it, she'd have to look down. Her hair would no doubt brush against him, he was that close. Instead, she looked up into his eyes, her own uncertain and slightly lost. She fingered the pin on her lapel. “I'm…that is, I'm the hospital fund-raiser.” She swallowed hard and then squared her shoulders. “You probably already know, but today is a very big day for the hospital with the new ward opening and so many people coming for the celebration. Lots to think about and keep track of. Lots to do,” she said, her voice a soft whisper. After all, he was near. Near enough to breathe in the floral scent of her shampoo. There was no need to raise her voice.

For a minute with this soft lovely woman standing beside him, Ace wasn't sure he'd be able to speak as the threads of desire wound through his body. But though he had her talking, he was reasonably certain that he needed to
keep
her talking. Otherwise, she was going to remember where they were. The fear would resurface with a vengeance.

“You're the hospital's fund-raiser? Ah, so you are an independent woman, darlin'.”

She lifted her chin, tipping her head back and causing her hair to spill over her shoulders. Some of her former color and life seemed to have returned. “You're trying to get a rise out of me, aren't you. So
that I won't think about the fact that I want to physically rip the doors off their tracks with my teeth.”

Okay, so she was on to him. “That would be fun to watch,” he conceded.

“It's not going to work, you know,” she said. “This isn't the first time someone has tried to talk me out of this irrational behavior. I can't seem to control it, hard as I try. You might as well give up. But I do appreciate your efforts…”

“Ace,” he said automatically, though she hadn't asked his name. Oh, yes, he knew about irrational behavior, because for some reason he wanted to hear his name on her lips.

“Ace,” she repeated, her voice as soft as a whisper in the dark of night. The small space they occupied could well have been a bed. He was close enough to reach out and pull her to him, to taste her lips. He was staring down into her eyes. Her breathing was coming quickly.

But of course her breathing was coming quickly. She was scared to death.

Ace backed away a few inches. “So now you know
my
name, darlin',” he offered.

She let out a laugh. “I get your point, and you're right. I've already told you my occupation, one of my deepest fears and revealed the fact that I'm not married. It's silly to keep my name from you, when I assume you're here for the ribbon-cutting ceremony and I'll be in front of the crowd.” She looked toward the darn buttons.

“Soon,” he said. “You'll be in front of the crowd soon. Would you like me to call again?”

He could tell that she wanted to say no, that she wanted to appear strong. “Yes, please,” she said in a very small voice.

“Any word on our condition?” Ace asked the security guard on the other end. “Ten minutes?” It wasn't long, but the lady was clearly hoping for something more like ten seconds.

“I'm okay with that,” she assured him rather unconvincingly. “And my name is Crystal. Crystal Bennett.” Her words came out in a rush.

Ordinarily he would have offered his last name, too, but today wasn't a day for the ordinary ways. And revealing his last name to Crystal Bennett would fill her with questions that would probably take her mind off their situation, but would simply complicate other things. The Carsons had supplied a fair share of the money for the new wing. He'd heard that from every gas-station attendant and convenience-store clerk he'd spoken to in the course of getting directions around the city. The largest donors to the new wing and the hospital's chief fund-raiser would, out of necessity, have a good relationship. Revealing his identity to Crystal would only lead to questions about his intent, and that just wasn't a good idea right now.

“Crystal's an exceptionally pretty name,” he said, instead, meaning it.

Another blush kissed her cheeks. Ace couldn't remember ever spending time with a woman who actually blushed. The women he consorted with were completely foreign to the concept of innocence, and pretty much nothing embarrassed them. He ought to view this as a sign. A huge red stop sign.

“How long have we been in here, do you think?” she asked.

A few minutes, but he knew what she meant. It seemed longer, and it was beginning to seem longer still when Ace looked down at the shining crown of her hair and breathed in deeply. The floral scent of her hair mingled with something that smelled suspiciously like soap. Whatever it was, it was sexy as hell, and suddenly he was very aware that she was all soft skin and big trusting eyes. Oh, yes, that was trust he was seeing there.

“We'll be out soon,” he said again, fighting to keep the husky note from his voice.

She nodded and bit her lip. “I wish I'd borrowed someone's cell phone. I promised my son I would come and see him before the ceremonies began. He's in the day-care center. He's too young to tell time, but once things get started, he'll hear the music and know that things are starting.”

“You have a son.” Ace forced the words through his lips. She had a son. And no husband. This probably wasn't something he wanted to know.

For the first time he surprised a genuine no-holds-barred smile from her lips. “Timmy,” she said, and it was clear from that one word that her entire world circled around her little boy. “He's just three.”

“Does he look like you?” Ace asked. Anything to keep that light in her eyes.

“No, like his father.” She dug into her purse and found a picture. She handed it to Ace. There, smiling back at him, was the cutest little dark-haired, big-eyed munchkin he'd ever seen.

“You're wrong,” he said. “He has your eyes.”

“Well, maybe,” she conceded, “but nothing else.”

“You'll give him other things,” Ace said with the confidence of a man who knew what he was talking about. “Does his father live nearby?” Why had he asked that question?

A question he obviously shouldn't have asked, since the smile on Crystal's lips died. “Timmy's father never wanted to be a part of his life. He took off as soon as he knew the baby was on the way.”

A knifelike and familiar pain sliced through Ace.

“His loss,” he said tensely.

“Exactly,” she said with great feeling. And their eyes met. They shared a commiserating look. For long seconds Ace's gaze held her gaze. He studied her. She had the most beautiful expressive mouth, he couldn't help thinking. A mouth made for deep slow kisses that went on and on and led to better things. He could almost see how Timmy's father had lost his head and ended up fathering a child because he, too, had a strong urge to step close to Crystal and pull her into his arms. And with a woman like this, that kind of thing could only lead to other things.

Most likely me getting my face slapped, he thought with a smile.

“Ace?” Crystal asked, and he realized that she was probably wondering why he was grinning.

“You probably don't want to know, but I was thinking about how tasty your lips look,” he said, and he heard her sharp intake of air. Well, hell, he
had
always been known for speaking his mind. No doubt,
this would have been one time when he should have stifled his speech and his thoughts.

“But I meant what I said before, Crystal. I don't force myself on women. You're safe with me.”

She studied him for a minute. Suddenly the elevator began moving again, and it continued to move until it reached the main floor and the doors opened.

Ace held out his hand, motioning for Crystal to exit the elevator in front of him. She turned to go, then turned back. Her small hand touched his sleeve, and she looked up at him.

“You made me feel safe,” she said. “I know you were trying to distract me to keep my mind off things. You're a kind man, Ace. Thank you.”

He simply stared down at her, then watched as she walked away. She might think he was a kind man now, but what was she going to think later today when he publicly embarrassed one of the hospital's biggest benefactors?

 

Crystal moved out into the sunshine where tables and booths and a podium for speeches had been set up. A wide blue-and-white ribbon cordoned off the new and shiny maternity wing, which had taken so much time and effort from so many. She had spent the past two years of her life working toward this day, yet now that it was here, all she could think about was the man she'd met in the elevator.

A small smile lifted her lips. He'd certainly been handsome with that wavy black hair and those blue eyes. And that smile. Her heart flipped at the memory.

“Stop it,” she told herself. “You know darn well
that a man like that has used that smile on a million women. He's slid into a hundred women's beds just because they couldn't resist that devilish grin and all that sweet talking.”

She'd been barely able to resist, either, but
barely
was the operative word here, because she was darn well going to resist even thinking about the man. If there was one woman in all of Mission Creek who knew better than to fall for a pair of let's-make-love-darlin' blue eyes and a rogue's smile, it was her.

No more handsome heartbreakers for her, now or ever. She had Timmy to think of. And that was all the reminder Crystal needed.

Besides, today was a workday. People were relying on her. And there was a ton of things that still had to be taken care of, a fact that became clear as she neared the area where the ribbon-cutting ceremony was due to begin shortly and her employees flocked around her with tales of minor crises and questions that needed to be answered.

Crystal took a deep breath and plunged in. Her last thought of Ace was that he would make a great lover, but a very bad husband. Not that it mattered. She wasn't even slightly interested in a husband.

And she was certainly going to keep her distance from Ace if he should show up at the ceremony.

R
eal impressive, Ace thought as he surveyed the lawns that surrounded the new maternity wing of the hospital. Lots of white damask tablecloths, polished silver, yellow and blue blossoms and champagne. Pretty expensive, very classy. A bit more formal than he was expecting. The Carson money that was supporting this fandango was clearly evident. Of course, his little redheaded fund-raiser was probably also responsible for procuring a great portion of that donation. He could just picture her opening those big hazel eyes wide. In two seconds flat all those rich lecherous Carson men would have been fighting each other and everyone else to be the first to pull out their wallets. Not that she would use flirtation to get her way. That was clearly not her style at all, Ace reminded himself. That didn't mean that his half brothers wouldn't want her, though. Any man would.

He'd been wandering around the room while the speeches went on, observing the crowd. Now he wondered how well his half brothers knew Crystal, if they were the type who could charm women into their beds, and if they'd view a woman alone like Crystal as fair game. He'd heard that his siblings were married, but then, there were plenty of men who didn't
view marriage as a deterrent to their pleasure, and plenty of wives who were willing to look the other way. No doubt all the Carson men were charming. His mother had told him that his father was.

And the rest of the Carsons had a few things Ace didn't have. Money. Success. Respectability.

Oh, no, he wasn't the least bit respectable and he never tried to be. If there was one prime rule he lived by it was Never pretend you're something you're not. Never be a wanna-be. He'd learned that lesson very well, had had it impressed upon him at an early age.

“So just get every thought of Crystal Bennett out of your mind,” he told himself. “Time to go to work, Ace.”

He moved across the springy grass toward the crowd. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Crystal, her head bent toward a young man who was gesticulating wildly with his hands and holding up what looked to be a spoon. Crystal gave the man a long soulful look, said a few words, and then the young man's face broke into a smile before he moved away.

“Looks like one crisis averted,” Ace said with a chuckle. Now to his own situation. It appeared the presentations were over, and people were starting to mingle on the grounds and attack the food. It was time to begin meeting his new temporary neighbors.

“Good afternoon, ma'am,” he said to a large sixtyish woman wearing a hot-pink dress and lots of clanking bracelets. “Nice party, isn't it? Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Ace Turner Carson. Lovely dress you're wearing. That color most definitely
brings out the pretty roses in your cheeks.” He tilted his head and smiled at her.

She giggled. “Thank you, sir, and yes, it
is
a nice party. Ace Turner
Carson,
did you say? Not one of
our
Carsons?”

Ah, she'd asked the right question.

“I hope you'll consider me yours,” he said with a wink.

The woman giggled again and almost fluttered her eyelashes, wishing him well as he moved on through the crowd. Glancing around the room, Ace looked over people's heads and located Crystal. She was looking his way, but when his gaze caught hers, she quickly glanced away.

Just as well. He didn't know why he was so aware of her presence, anyway. It wasn't right. He hadn't come to town to connect with anyone, and when he was done here, he planned to move on. Quickly. No looking back. So it was best if he stopped looking around for the lady right now. She had those vulnerable eyes, and he was a man who would only hurt her, especially considering his feelings about dating women with children. Children needed contact with responsible adults. Responsibility wasn't exactly one of his strong suits, either. Best to remember that, he thought with a frown.

Wandering near a group of men debating the merits of opening the new maternity wing, he started to pass them by, then thought better of it.

“The old hospital was what we had for years and it was just fine,” one man said. “All this money spent for nothing.”

Ace cast him an amused look, which caught the man's attention.

“What does that look mean?” the man asked, bristling.

“Not a thing,” Ace said, holding out his hands in a gesture of innocence. “Just that I was thinking that having a new maternity wing probably means room for lots more babies, and there's only one way I know to get more babies. Can't imagine why a man would be complaining about that.”

The rest of the men in the group chuckled, and finally the bristling one shrugged sheepishly and laughed along with them. “Bet you've had your share of women wanting to make babies, too,” he shot back. “You new around here?”

“I sure am. Name's Ace. Ace Turner Carson. No babies to my name, but I do like all the activities that lead up to them,” he said, slapping the man on the back and moving away before anyone could ask him about his name.

That was the point for now. To get just a few people buzzing and wondering. Could he be related to the mighty and well-respected Ford Carson?

“Oh, yeah,” Ace whispered to himself. The great Ford Carson wasn't quite as respectable as everyone thought. After all, he'd fathered an illegitimate son and then left the son's mother to fend for herself. Not such an exemplary character, after all, was he? And neither was the son. In fact, he could be quite a thorn in a person's side, if he wanted to be.

He definitely wanted to be.

The buzz behind him grew a bit. He heard the name
Carson mentioned once or twice. He moved on, staying to himself for the most part, but now and then stopping to plant a seed.

“Not too fast, Ace,” he told himself. “We want to stretch this out. Let it bloom and grow over weeks. Let the doubt and the questions begin to build slowly.”

He saw several men glance his way. They looked a lot like the pictures he'd seen of his half brothers, but he wasn't ready to meet them yet, and he knew how to evade someone when he wanted to. He moved on.

And then he looked up and saw Crystal again, her pretty hair slipping over her shoulders. He practically willed her to look up at him, and she did. He could almost hear her sharp intake of air. He could almost see the delicate blush that covered her cheekbones and no doubt all of her honey-and-cream skin as well.

For half a second he held her gaze, but she quickly turned away.

Ace felt a slight twinge of anger at himself. He wanted her to look at him. Longer. More meaningfully. With desire in her eyes and on her lips. Actually, he wanted her to come closer. Close enough to touch.

She was a vision in pale blue, surrounded by men in suits, all looking at her as if they'd offer her the world if she'd just smile at one of them.

But then, some men didn't have the world to offer. They just drifted from one thing to the next, rootless, and liked it that way. Liked it very much.

Ace forced himself to look away from Crystal.

“Ace Carson,” he said to a man he met a few minutes later. A doctor from the hospital by the looks of things. “Nice town you have here. Nice hospital, too.”

“Glad you like the place. We do, too. My name's Jared Cross,” he said, holding out his hand. “I work here. Child psychiatry. Family planning.”

“Family planning? Then you're involved in this new wing?”

“I have a definite interest, yes,” the man said. “We have a well-known fertility clinic here. It all ties together. I'm really pleased Mission Creek Memorial pulled this off. It was quite a feat. Lots of work and dedication.”

The man's comments confirmed what Ace had begun to suspect. For such a little thing, Crystal had a big impact on people. She took her work seriously. Again Ace scanned the room for her. Finally he located her, holding court in the middle of a crowd of obviously wealthy benefactors. He relaxed and turned back to find Jared grinning.

“She's something, isn't she?” Jared said.

“I wouldn't really know. I just arrived in town. But yes, she is intriguing,” he said, unwilling to let on just how intriguing he found her. And how unnerving it was to find himself lusting after a woman he had no business lusting after. It was obvious she was not only a serious innocent, but he was beginning to learn that she had major ties to the Carsons through this hospital and also through Fiona Carson Martin, his little half sister who was also involved in fund-raising. He'd heard it whispered that they were friends.

“So the woman's intriguing?” Jared repeated with a knowing grin. “In my opinion, the woman is a wonder. She's fervent about the need for this wing, and it shows in everything she's said and done to make this project work. She probably had people fighting to be the first to get in the door with their money.”

The obvious admiration in his voice didn't escape Ace's notice. Neither did the fact that most women would find Cross's black hair and green eyes irresistible. A powerful surge of something possessive streaked through Ace, and he frowned slightly.

“You have an interest in the lady?” Ace couldn't stop himself from asking, even though he cursed himself for doing so.

Jared raised one brow. “Of course. A purely professional one.” He frowned. “What did you say your last name was? Carson? Does that mean you're related to the Mission Creek Carsons?”

Ace shrugged. “I never knew my father. Do I look like a Mission Creek Carson to you?” He chuckled, flipping open his jacket to reveal the frayed dark blue lining.

“I get your point,” Jared said. “The Carsons own a substantial chunk of the town.”

“I guess I don't qualify, then. Pleased to have met you, though.” He shook Jared's hand and began to move on, his gaze sweeping the room.

“She's over there,” Jared said with a grin, indicating Crystal's new location.

Ace chuckled. “Okay, I'm more than intrigued,” he admitted as he nodded to Cross and moved away.

He also admitted that he had probably done enough
for tonight. The framework of what he intended was in place. He ought to be pleased. People were wondering who he was. They were finding out that he was a bit of a flirt, a bit of a tease, illegitimate, possibly a fly-by-night but amiable rogue, and they were beginning to wonder if he couldn't, in some way, be related to Ford Carson.

Ace glanced around at the men he'd identified earlier as Carsons from the descriptions he'd been given. Matt, Flynt. Ford didn't appear to be here. At least not yet.

No matter. He had time and patience.

He scanned the room, looking to see if his target was arriving, but at that moment he saw Crystal again. She was standing in a corner, nearly against a wall, and a thin man with dirty-blond hair and a goatee was watching her from across the lawn. Somehow, unlike the other men who had surrounded her earlier, this one didn't look as if he was waiting for her to smile. He didn't look as if he'd even noticed that the lady had soft pink lips made for kissing again and again. He looked extremely upset.

Moreover, he looked as if he had business with Crystal. Not good business, either, Ace surmised, as the man began to take quick, deliberate steps toward her.

Just then, a woman came up to Ace and started talking to him. Ace listened with only one ear.

But while he listened he had a feeling that, wise or not, he was going to end up speaking to Crystal Bennett again.

Soon.

He only hoped he would remember she was a lady,
a vulnerable lady, and he was a man she wasn't going to like for very long. Not if she liked this town and the true Carsons.

 

Crystal could feel Ace's eyes on her. Every time she'd looked up, it seemed, he had been grinning, flirting with the women gathered here, who were all beginning to fan themselves whenever he drew near.

Not that she could blame them. He was tall enough to make a woman feel faint, his blue eyes promised long nights of raw pleasure, and his mouth…well, just thinking about that slash of a mouth made her stomach flutter.

She'd had to keep reminding herself that she was here to ensure a smooth party and a flawless ceremony. Besides, she didn't go near good-looking flirts anymore. She'd had more than her share of them in so many ways. But oh, my, Ace was going to fuel some very powerful fantasies tonight. Not just hers, either. She bet that half the women in the room were going to dream of him in their beds tonight, dropping feverish kisses on their naked skin.

She fanned herself with a program.

“Well, look here what I've found. If it isn't little Crystal Bennett still looking like the slut she is.”

Crystal gave a start at the familiar, raspy voice from her past. To her chagrin, her first move on hearing the ugly accusation was to look down at her suit. Although her outfit ended just above her knee, it was very demure, a plain skirt and short-sleeved jacket that were neither too snug nor cut too low.

She forced herself to look up, despite the fear spiraling through her, nearly choking her. Branson Hines stood before her, his lank dirty hair disheveled, his black eyes slightly crazed. He was staring at her jacket as if he could see right through it.

Automatically, she raised her hand to cover herself. She reminded herself that she was in a crowded gathering, even if she was standing in a rather deserted area at the moment, beneath the shadow of some trees. Besides, she was a grown woman now. She didn't have to let Branson intimidate her anymore.

“Branson,” she said as smoothly as she could manage, pretending he had said nothing out of the ordinary. “I hope you're enjoying the ceremonies.” She didn't hold out her hand as she would have to anyone else. “But I'm afraid I have business to attend to now. If you'll excuse me.”

She tried to move around him to head back to the relative safety of the more crowded area.

He put one hand across her path. She changed direction and he grabbed her wrist.