LITMIR.BIZ

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can take it from here,” she said.

      Mace didn’t listen.

      Neither did Jason.

      She allowed Mace to escort her inside.

      Her purse and laptop were waiting for her at the main desk.

      “Ms. Wright,” the receptionist said, tapping away at her computer keyboard. “Here you are. We expected you last night.”

      Kelly reached for her damp, mud-streaked purse, rummaged for her wallet, extracted her company credit card. “Something came up,” she said.

      Oddly, the clerk, a college-aged blonde, glanced questioningly at Mace before accepting the card.

      “Just give the lady a room,” he said.

      Kelly was confused, but she didn’t ask any questions and continued to hold out her credit card.

      The clerk accepted it, swiped, handed it back. “How many key cards would you like?” she asked Kelly, with another look at Mace.

      Kelly was mildly annoyed. “One,” she said pointedly.

      “Certainly,” the clerk said, beaming. She handed over the key card. “Enjoy your stay.”

      “Thank you,” Kelly said, realizing she sounded ungrateful.

      “Do you have luggage?” the young woman asked.

      “No,” Kelly answered, holding the other woman’s gaze. “It blew up.”

      Beside her, Mace chuckled.

      “Oh,” the clerk said, looking baffled. Then she brightened. “We have several good shops right here on the premises. Clothing, makeup, toiletries—whatever you need.”

      “I’m glad,” Kelly said, not sounding glad at all. What was the matter with her? This poor woman was trying so hard to be helpful. There was no reason to be testy.

      And yet she was.

      She felt unsettled, out of her element in this place, with this man.

      Which was crazy on two counts. One, she’d stayed in fine hotels and resorts all over the world and fit right in, thank you very much. And, two, she couldn’t think why she found her reactions to Mace Carson mildly disturbing. He was attractive, sure. He’d saved her life, not once, but twice.

      And she was grateful, of course.

      Then what was bothering her so much?

      She didn’t know.

      She stepped away from the reception desk, key card in hand. She craved a hot shower and a room-service meal, but first, like it or not, she’d have to visit one or more of the resort shops, find something to wear, buy basic grooming supplies. Her linen pantsuit, the outfit she’d traveled in the day before, was wrinkled, and there were stains on the knees from crawling out of the rental car while Mace held the door, and landing on the wet, muddy pavement.

      Caught up in practicality, Kelly was startled when Mace gently took her elbow.

      “Let me know if you need anything,” he said.

      “What about our meeting—”

      “We can reschedule,” he replied. “I’ll be in touch.”

      With that, he turned and walked away.

      Kelly was relieved—she needed to think, and that was difficult to do with Mace Carson around—but part of her wanted to call out to him, even run after him, get him to stay, cling to him.

      Cling to him. Like a drowning swimmer or some fragile, needy creature, afraid to be on her own.

      Well, Kelly reminded herself, she was none of those things. She was smart, sophisticated, successful. She was strong. Thanks to therapy, a loving family, good friends and a lot of hard work, she’d long since put the trauma of the attack behind her. She’d made mistakes along the way, marrying Alan Wright—among other, lesser poor choices—but so what? Everybody screwed up once in a while, didn’t they?

      She turned resolutely and headed for the first of a series of small, eclectic-looking shops.

      Twenty minutes later, she was in her room, a spacious minisuite with a balcony and a spectacular view of the Grand Tetons, looming snowcapped in the distance. They were a comforting reminder, those mountains, that the world was a solid place.

      She tossed the bags containing her purchases onto the bed, scrounged in her soggy purse for her cell phone and peered at the screen. The familiar icons were there, although the battery was nearly dead.

      She thumbed Contacts, found her boss’s name, pressed Call.

      Dina answered on the first ring. “Kelly? Oh, my God, where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday afternoon—I must’ve left a dozen messages!”

      Kelly drew a deep breath and filled Dina in as succinctly as possible, feeling more exhausted with every word.

      “You were in a hospital?” Dina broke in midway through the tale. “The car actually blew up?”

      “Yes,” Kelly replied with a sigh. She brought the remainder of the story home with the mention that she’d lost every stitch of clothing she’d chosen and packed so carefully before leaving her California condo the morning before. “Someone retrieved my laptop, which may or may not be in working order—I haven’t checked yet. My phone survived, too, but it’s in the red zone, so if the call drops, you’ll know why.”

      “Do you want to come back to LA and regroup? We could reschedule your meeting with Mace Carson for next month, or whenever you feel ready.”

      “No. I’m here, and I’m fine, really. If you could ask Laura to stop by my place, gather up some of my clothes and overnight them to me at the resort, I’d be set.”

      Laura was Kelly’s assistant, and she had keys to the condo. She would know which outfits would work best on a business trip.

      “You’re sure about this?” Dina sounded uncertain.

      “I’m sure, Dina,” Kelly confirmed, smiling. “I’ve come this far, and you know me, I’m all about follow-through.”

      “You’re a real trouper,” Dina said. Then, with a note of pleased resignation in her voice, she added, “Okay, then. I’ll tell Laura know what you want her to do. In the meantime, charge your phone, have something to eat and don’t worry about your laptop. If it won’t boot up, order a replacement—”

      Just then, Kelly’s cell phone went dark and silent.

      She set it down on the nightstand, found the charger and cord in the bottom of her purse and plugged it in.

      After that, she followed the mental to-do list that had taken shape in her brain while she was talking with Dina.

      Shower.

      Put on one of the two wispy sundresses she’d bought downstairs.

      Brush her hair and her teeth.

      Order room service. Something substantial, and to hell with worrying about carbs and fat grams. A cheeseburger, for instance. Or a thick steak and baked potato, loaded with sour cream, chives, grated cheddar.

      Finally, boot up her laptop, fingers crossed.

      If the sleek computer was ruined, her company would provide another, just as Dina had promised, but restoring her notes, contacts and a variety of templates for forms and contracts and the like would take up valuable time.

      An hour later, scrubbed and dressed and fed, Kelly sat in the chair in front of the small writing desk, laptop open and ready, rubbed her hands together, murmured a prayer and hit the power button.

      The screen lit up instantly.

      “Yes,” Kelly whispered. She clicked on icon after icon, periodically reminding herself to breathe.

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