“Maria is an excellent cook,” she said.
“Her family owned a café in town, and Maria learned cooking at her mother’s knee. After they sold the business, Maria took this job. I’m very fortunate to have her.”
They savored the food in comfortable silence. Christie could not help noticing that Cash looked boyishly attractive in a hand-embroidered Mexican wedding shirt. He blended with the Spanish setting as though he had been born to it.
“That’s a good-looking shirt.”
“Thanks. Maria made it for me in one of her more charitable moments. Wishful thinking on her part, perhaps. She never stops chattering at me that I should settle down and get married.”
“And?”
“I haven’t had time to find a candidate.” He grinned boyishly. “Unless you’re volunteering?”
Christie held her hands up in a truce gesture. “Don’t look to me for salvation. I haven’t had a spare moment to get my own social life in full swing.”
“I guess I’m destined to remain a wallflower.”
“Poor darling.”
Cash reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “I like the darling bit. If we can continue in that vein, I’ll overlook your previous ungraciousness.”
“Me? Ungracious? You have some nerve!” she teased back. “You misrepresent your intentions, then expect me to beg forgiveness? Perhaps I’d do well to see if Maria and her husband can put me up for the night.”
“About Maria.” His expression turned serious. “It was thoughtless on my part to promise she would stay at the hacienda before checking with her. And I wish I could guarantee that I won’t be thinking of you as more than a business associate. I’m only human, and you’re an extremely attractive woman. I’m not going to pretend I won’t be tempted to try and romance you.”
Christie took a deep breath. “Your directness is more difficult to deal with than an unexpected pass. If you came on too strong, I could slap your face or cut you down with a few harsh words. Now I’m at a disadvantage. If I become agitated at your conduct, you can say that I was forewarned, and what did I expect?”
“It’s going to be a long weekend if you keep putting me off.”
“It will be longer if we continue this flirtation.”
“Remember our truce? Surely that qualifies for a kiss and making up.” Cash stood and drew her from her chair. He cupped her chin and tilted her face upward. Her breath caught in her throat. Everything she had said meant nothing now. Pinpricks marched across her skin and her eyelids fluttered, then closed. She waited to feel his mouth on hers.
“I’ll clear the dishes before I go, Señor Cash.” Maria emerged from the shadows and Christie quickly stepped away from Cash. Maria placed the dishes on a tray and padded away. Cash touched Christie’s shoulder and she jumped. He laughed.
“Come on, it isn’t that serious. Maria was oblivious to what she interrupted. Let’s continue where we left off.”
“I’m tired and I’m going to say good night.” The mood had fled, replaced by sensibility.
“Don’t let an inopportune incident ruin the evening. You wanted that kiss as much as I did.”
“What makes you think that?”
“You can’t deny the chemistry.”
“No, I can’t,” she said.
“Then what’s holding you back?”
“I don’t want to be rushed. I’m going to say good night; it’s been a long day.”
His eyes darkened momentarily. “I understand. I hope you sleep well, Christie.”
Later, the hacienda was blanketed with a quiet that was foreign to Christie. She was accustomed to the nocturnal cacophony of a never-sleeping city. At home, those sounds nudged her into slumber. Here, the silence was unsettling; she was wide awake and morning seemed a lifetime away. If she didn’t get some rest, she would be miserable and useless when daybreak came. But how could she relax when Cash was on the other side of the courtyard, only a few steps away?
CHAPTER FOUR
Christie was snuggled inside a soft crazy quilt. Bright sunlight danced across her face, urging her awake. For a moment she was disoriented; the room was unfamiliar. She stretched, sat up, and swiveled around until her feet dangled off the edge of the bed. Through the sheer curtains, she could see a saguaro cactus, its chunky arms elbowed skyward. Twenty-four hours ago she was riding a cable car high above San Francisco Bay. Today she was staring out at the flat, dry desert—at Cash’s home. Her sense of time and place became jumbled in her semiawake mind.
She slipped her feet into soft suede slippers and headed for the bathroom. After showering, she dressed in khakis and a pale-blue short-sleeved pullover. She hurried through the house to the patio, where she found Cash reading the paper. When he saw her, he folded the paper and slipped it under his chair.
“Good morning.” He looked at his watch. “You have time for breakfast, then we’ll be on our way.”
The air was pleasantly warm and fragrant. Jasmine clung to the adobe wall that surrounded the patio. The plant’s green tendrils were spotted with dainty white flowers.
Christie sipped dark, rich coffee and sneaked a look at Cash over her cup. His eyebrows suddenly arched upward.
“What’s so interesting?” he asked.
Caught out, she took a deep breath and opened her mouth to reply, but discovered she was tongue-tied. That was what he did to her, she realized with dismay.
“Christie?” He cocked his head sideways, waiting for her to answer his question.
“You’re interesting,” she said, regaining composure. “There are so many layers to your personality and character that I am somewhat taken aback.”
“In what way?”
“Definitely in more than a professional way.” Why not be honest? she thought.
Cash reached across the table and grasped her hand. A prickling marched up her arm. As he leaned closer, his dark eyes engulfed her. She was lost, and she knew it. Slowly, she retrieved her hand and put her other hand over it, as if for protection. She looked into her half-empty coffee cup to avert her gaze from him.
“I think we’d better be going.” His voice was flat.
They drove through Oak Creek Canyon. Twisted sycamores bordered the road. The jagged rimrock was layered with varying shades of copper. There was an ancient, unspoiled look to the landscape, and Christie could almost visualize long-ago Indians astride pintos, standing lookout over their vast lands.
The drive was pleasant, and Cash spoke of Hal and Margo warmly, relaying anecdotes of their adolescent mischief. It was obvious that the bond between the three of them was strong.
A large river rock–edged sign announced an upscale housing complex. Cash turned into the entrance and drove a couple of blocks before pulling into a cul-de-sac. They parked in front of a pinkish-beige stucco house with a red-tile roof. A green lawn fringed the house, creating a desert oasis. The front door opened as they approached. A smiling, obviously pregnant woman waved; her other arm cradled her rounded belly. Cash quickly strode along the walkway to meet her.
“Margo, you’re looking wonderful.” He embraced the woman, then stepped aside. “I’d like you to meet Christie Hamilton.”
Margo’s grip was warm and firm. “I can’t tell you how much we appreciate your coming, Christie. Come in; Hal’s on the back patio.”
They walked through the house. The rooms were generously proportioned and furnished in desert hues. Large oil paintings of flowers and landscapes added color to an otherwise monochromatic scheme.
On the patio Hal immediately stepped to his wife’s side and put an arm around her. “Glad to meet you, Christie,” he said after introductions. “Cash told us you are one of the best document examiners, so we’re going to rely on your report.”