Tailspin

With it came the impulse to forget every thing else and just go to him. She was not naturally impulsive, but he’d always had that effect on her, making her want to toss the world away and go into freefall just to be with him. He still had the power to make her feel that way. Baffled, she fought hard to keep her feet firmly planted where they were. But she might have lost the battle if he hadn’t chosen that moment to turn to his grandmother.

Even then, it took all of her concentration to turn her own head and focus as Father Mike said, “You must remember Gabe and Jonah.”

“Yes.” The word was barely audible and Bianca reminded herself to smile.

“Welcome back to Denver,” Gabe said.

Jonah merely nodded.

In spite of the friendliness of Gabe’s words, cool wariness was what she saw in the eyes of both men. Of course, both of them had been close to Nash when she’d run out on him. Clearly, they hadn’t forgotten. But when Father Mike introduced her to Gabe’s fiancée, Nicola Guthrie, the young woman’s handshake was warm, her smile genuine. “Are you the Bianca Quinn who wrote Cover Up?”

“I am.”

“What a delight to meet you. Gabe mentioned he knew you when I starting raving about your book.”

“Nicola’s a true fan of your investigative technique,” Gabe said.

“I was going to write you a letter,” Nicola said. “I told my father that we ought to recruit you to work for the FBI.”

“I’m a researcher and a writer, not a crime fighter,” Bianca said.

“We could still benefit from your skills.” Nicola turned to Jonah. “You have to read Cover Up. It all takes place in this little town in upstate New York, not far from Cornell University. The last place you’d expect there would be a home invasion and grisly murders. And the police solved it in record time—or they thought they had. One suspect was shot to death by the police, the other tried, convicted and sentenced to jail. The real killer would have gotten away if Bianca hadn’t decided to write about it.”

Nicola turned back to Bianca. “How did you come to choose that particular story?”

“Someone brought it to my attention when I attended a conference in the area, and I got a feeling, a hunch, that there was a story there.”

“I knew you’d make a good agent. Following hunches is essential in good investigative work.”

Jonah turned to Bianca. “What brings you back to Denver?”

It didn’t surprise Bianca one bit that Jonah was the one to ask that question. He’d let her know eleven years ago that he hadn’t approved of her relationship with Nash. The rough kid from the streets was territorial when it came to his friends, and he never believed in beating around the bush.

“I’m working on two projects.”

“True crime again?” Nicola asked.

“One of them is.” Though her back was turned, she could sense that Nash and his grandmother were approaching. The tingle of awareness moved through every cell in her body. She wasn’t sure how she managed it, but she kept her eyes on Nicola. “But I’m also here at the request of Mrs. Fortune. She’s commissioned me to write the history of the Fortune family.”

“Indeed I have,” Maggie said as she and Nash joined the group. “I’ve just been telling Nash, and I think he’s a bit nervous about pulling all the family skeletons out of the closet.”

Bianca barely had time to turn when Nash took her hands in his and leaned down to touch his lips to her cheek. She felt the imprint of each one of his fingers on hers as if they were a brand. The brush of his mouth on her skin was brief, a simple social contact, but her heart skipped a beat, then raced.

“Bianca, it’s wonderful to see you again,” he said. “You’re even lovelier than I remembered.”

He released her in the time it took her to meet his eyes. All she read in his was the warmth one might expect to see in the eyes of an old and dear friend. Nothing that came close to matching the flash of heat his touch had ignited.

“Good to see you, too,” she managed to say, and wondered that her nose didn’t grow like Pinocchio’s for telling the lie. There was no way that her reaction to seeing Nash Fortune again was good. Even after he’d released her hands, she’d wanted badly to throw her arms around him.

She wasn’t the girl she’d been at seventeen—so willing and eager to toss caution to the winds. She was no longer Juliet to his Romeo. What was wrong with her? She was an adult, for heaven’s sake.

But for a few minutes the conversation around her was just a buzz of noise, and she simply couldn’t pick up the thread.

It’s the Nash Effect, the little voice said.

She couldn’t argue with that assessment. She was so aware of him standing near her. It was as if her entire body remembered him. And recalled his touch. When he laughed at something Gabe said, the sound rippled along her nerve endings.

It wasn’t until he stepped closer to Gabe and Jonah that she felt her brain cells click on. She had a story to research, she reminded herself again.

Two stories. In a few more seconds, she’d even remember what they were. Bubbles of panic erupted and cleared her brain. Now, if she could just stop looking at him.

“Are you all right, dear?”

Father Mike. Gratefully, she turned to face him. “I will be.”

“Yes.” He took her hand in his and patted it. “You will be.”

How often had he said those words to her before? The first time had been when she’d worked on the first newsletter for the St. Francis Center. She’d been so nervous about seeing something she’d written in print for the first time. Father Mike had taken her into the small prayer garden tucked in between the center and a basketball court. A statue of St. Francis sat on a dais in the small space, and he’d told her that saying a prayer to the statue would help.

It had. But so had Father Mike’s calm belief in her, then and over the years. She would be all right this time, too.

When she turned back to the others, she could finally follow what they were saying. And she could look at other people besides Nash. The men were discussing an upcoming basketball tournament at the Boys and Girls Club and settling on a poker night since Jonah was in town. Their easy camaraderie matched perfectly with her memories of the three of them.

“I know that you’re busy,” Nicola said to her. “But I’d love to get together with you for lunch?”

Bianca smiled at her. “I’d love that.”

“I’ll call you,” Nicola said before she turned to respond to something Gabe had said.

When a passing waiter offered a flute of champagne, she took one. On the bright side, she’d discovered the answer to one question. Nash was definitely not going to be a non-issue for her. Because he stood in profile, his attention focused on what Gabe was saying, she was able to study him objectively for the first time. His face was leaner, the laugh lines more pronounced. His body was still tall and lanky, but it looked harder. His hands had certainly seemed harder, too, in the moment they’d clasped hers.

They’ll feel different on your skin when he makes love to you.

Bianca took a sip of her champagne. She was just not going to allow herself to go there. Second thing on the bright side—what she was feeling was one-sided. He hadn’t glanced at her since he’d moved away. The fact that he seemed to be treating her as an old friend was a good thing. She’d find a way to handle her feelings. She was older now. And she could still use his help with both her projects. When she interviewed him as the current heir to the Fortune dynasty, she’d also ask him about Brian. They’d been classmates. At the very least, he could provide deeper insights into the kind of person Brian had been. At best, he could save her a lot of time by putting her in touch with others who’d known Brian personally that year. She just had to keep her focus.

“Having second thoughts?”

Bianca turned to see Maggie stood next to her. She met the older woman’s eyes. “No.”

“Good.” Maggie took her free hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “How did your visit to the Colorado Springs Police Department go?”

Bianca smiled at her. “Very smoothly, thanks to you. Mayor DeBlois sends you his best. The sergeant there had the files on Brian Silko’s disappearance all ready for me to read. Unfortunately, I didn’t discover anything new. The detective who did the investigation has retired. No one seemed to know his current address. My next move will be to locate him. But first, I intend to get started on the book you’re paying me for.”

“Good. But I knew when I convinced you to take on the scandalous Fortunes that you were also here to research your next book. You’re free to juggle your work load any way you see fit. I’ll be out of town for a few days, but I’ve arranged with Grady, my house manager, for you to have access to the library and the family archives whenever you wish. He has instructions to let you in and out—at any hour.”

“I’ll start tomorrow.”

“Good.”