Hands On by Debbi Rawlins Page A

the back of it. “One of your migraines kept you in the room all day.”
    The tender gesture surprised Dalton. The guy was like a chameleon, a weasel one minute, and charming the next.
    Zelda gave him a wan smile. “I guess I could wear a swimsuit.”
    â€œThat’s the spirit.” He kissed her hand again and then laid it down on the table, his predatory gaze going immediately to Cassie.
    She gave him a dirty look and turned her attention to Mary Jane. “Why out by the pool?” she asked. “That doesn’t sound practical.”
    â€œOh, you’ll see. We’ll be all set up for it.”
    â€œI hope we’re having more than salad for lunch,” Tom said, his plate already clean. “No way is this enough until dinner.”
    â€œTasha will be bringing out some fruit shortly.”
    Tom made a face. “Fruit?”
    Mary Jane gave him a patronizing smile. “You don’t want to get too full for this afternoon. Trust me.”
    Cassie darted Dalton an accusatory glare and then concentrated on her salad. As if he’d orchestrated the afternoon. He wasn’t so thrilled about disrobing and getting massaged either.
    That was a lie. He was getting hard just thinking about Cassie running her hands over him.
    Shit! Not good. Not good at all. He hadn’t been kidding about not needing the distraction.
    â€œHere’s our dessert now.” Mary Jane and her perky attitude was starting to get on his nerves.
    Tasha carried in a large glass bowl filled with colorful chunks of melon and grapes and whole straw-berries. It looked pretty good but Dalton was with Tom…he wanted real food.
    â€œAs soon as you finish, take the hour to relax and do whatever you need to do.” Mary Jane had barely gotten the words out of her mouth when Tom and Grant both pushed away from the table.
    Grant looked at his watch. “At the pool by one-thirty, right?”
    â€œWell, well, aren’t we anxious?” Simone sipped her mimosa. Everyone else had non-alcoholic drinks, but Simone had insisted on the orange juice and champagne.
    Grant ignored her and left the dining room with a look of disgust. Dalton decided he’d hate to be on the receiving end of either of their massages. Simone was probably capable of scratching like a wildcat, and half the time Grant looked as if he could cheerfully wring her neck.
    What the hell kept those two together? Watching them made him glad he was divorced. At least he and Linda hadn’t had time to get to the sniping stage. She’d taken up with their divorced neighbor while Dalton had been in New York on assignment. She complained that he never had enough time for her, and she left. Moved to Seattle. Just like that.
    He realized Cassie had gotten up from the table while he’d been lost in thought. The way she stared at him with intense curiosity made him wonder what his expression had revealed. He stood and followed her out of the dining room, leaving the others to chat with Mary Jane.
    â€œYou going to the room?” he asked, but she wouldn’t turn around. Probably still pissed at him for leaving like he had earlier.
    Instead of heading for the stairs, she slipped out the French doors into the garden. He followed close behind and when they got a few yards away from the house, she spun around, her eyes shooting daggers.
    â€œWhat the hell was that about?” Anger radiated from her.
    â€œCould you be more specific?”
    â€œDamn you.”
    â€œI suggest you keep your voice down.”
    â€œAh.” Her lips curved in a humorless smile. “You almost blew our cover by spewing garbage about working for a living and needing to provide for a family, and you worry about me raising my voice.”
    â€œThat isn’t garbage,” he said quietly.
    A thoughtful frown drew her brows together and she studied him more closely. Immediately he regretted his words. They weren’t really talking about