Change of Heart Read online

  Eli said all this without the least flicker of his eyes at his distorted truth. He just smiled and refilled everyone’s wineglass—except his own, Chelsea noted.

  “Does the guy drive a beat-up old car?” Melissa asked. “Weeks ago I ticketed him for a broken taillight, but I haven’t seen that vehicle since.”

  “That’s him,” Chelsea said. “You remember his name?”

  “Yeah. The car was registered to Chester Arthur. I remember because it’s a president’s name.”

  “And the driver’s license matched his name?” Eli asked.

  “Sure,” Melissa said. “If it hadn’t, I would have reported it. But then, I couldn’t imagine that anyone would want to steal that old car. Don’t tell me it’s still running.”

  “Yes,” Chelsea said before Eli could reply. “Actually, it runs quite well.”

  “That’s because a new engine’s been put in,” Eli said. “The outside may be a wreck, but the inside’s out of Daytona.” He didn’t look at Chelsea.

  That he knew that but hadn’t mentioned it so annoyed her that she kicked him under the table. He didn’t even wince. “What about Grace? Where does she work?”

  “Frazier Motors. My boss’s family’s dealership. If you buy a vehicle, you go through the paperwork with Grace.”

  When Eli and Chelsea leaned toward her, Melissa continued, “She’s a nice woman, been in Edilean about four years.”

  “No problems?” Eli asked.

  “What’s this about?” Melissa asked.

  Jeff took her hand in his. “I told you that Eli can’t tell what he’s working on. Top Secret and all that.”

  Melissa seemed to consider that for a moment. “The first year she was in town, she called us out in the night three times. She has a concrete block shed in the backyard, and she said it’s why she bought the house. Someone kept trying to break into it.”

  “Did they succeed?” Eli asked.

  “No,” Melissa said. “It has a heavy metal door on it. The old man who built it had a collection of old toys. His wife threatened to divorce him if he didn’t get rid of them, so he built the shed to house them. It’s pretty strong.”

  “Alarm system on it?” Eli asked.

  “Not that I know of, but the sheriff and I suggested she put up some lights around it. What’s in there?”

  “I have no idea,” Eli said as he got up. “Anyone want more pie? What about you, Chels? It’s not lemon meringue but it’s still good.”

  “Eli is determined that I gain weight.”

  “I wanted that when I thought we had a future together,” Eli said. “But since I don’t play polo or drive a race car, I’m not in consideration.” His words were laced with so much anger that Melissa and Jeff looked at him with wide eyes.

  But Chelsea knew that he was using a distraction technique. They’d done it when they were children. It looked like he wanted them to be alone. She got up to stand in front of him. “You flirted with every woman we saw.” She turned to Melissa and Jeff. “The real reason for all this interest in Grace Ridgeway is that he drools over her. His dream girl. Eli wants a woman who is chained to the stove. One who’ll wait at home for him, pop out umpteen babies, and pack his suitcase when he goes somewhere exciting.”

  “Better than wasting my life living in hotels like you do. Aren’t you worried that you’re getting too old for those young men?”

  “You think I’m old?” she said, her voice low. In a quick move, she put her hand at his neck and kissed him with all the passion that had been building inside her.

  Eli drew her into his arms, his mouth opening over hers and nearly devouring her.

  Melissa and Jeff stood up. “We . . . uh, we better go,” he said.

  “Uh, yeah,” Melissa echoed.

  In seconds, they were out the door and hurrying toward the car.

  Chelsea and Eli broke apart and stood there glaring at each other.

  “Are they gone?” Chelsea whispered.

  Eli turned just slightly. “Burning rubber.” He looked back at her and they began to laugh so hard they fell on each other.

  “Did you see their faces?” she asked.

  “They were shocked. You certainly broke up the party with that kiss,” he said.

  “I had to stop her from asking questions. I guess I could have slapped you, but I was afraid Melissa might draw her gun on me.”

  Eli stopped laughing.

  She pulled back to look at him, and when she saw his eyes glowing, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him, but this time for real. His body was pressed against hers and he felt so very good.

  His tongue, his full lips, the strength of him, were all causing her to lose herself.

  He moved to kiss her neck. “No commitment, understand?” he whispered.

  “None.” Her head was tilted, giving him access to her throat. His hands were roaming over her back.

  “I want that white picket fence,” he said. “I want kids and a wife in an apron, and a casserole in the oven. And you want none of that.”

  “That’s right,” she said, “I don’t.” Her eyes were closed as she gave herself over to his lips, his hands, to the feel of his mouth against hers.

  When he took a step forward, she went with him. He put his hands under her behind and lifted her to the back of the couch. Within seconds, he’d unbuttoned her blouse and his face was on her breasts.

  Chelsea knew she’d never wanted anyone as much as she wanted this man. This was Eli. Friends forever.

  She opened her jeans-clad legs and held him to her, her ankles clasped at the back of him. Her hands were in his hair, her head back.

  His hands slipped under her shirt, moved over her smooth skin, and deftly unfastened her bra. He took a pink tip in his mouth, his tongue caressing in a way that sent waves through her body.

  She was hardly aware that his hands were unfastening her jeans. When his fingertips touched the skin below her navel, she caught her breath.

  His head came up to her lips, encasing them, devouring them, as his hands held her head.

  “Eli,” she whispered. “Make love to me.”

  “I mean to. I—”

  Suddenly, he stepped back from her. “Damn! I can’t.”

  She glanced downward. He was ready for her. “Yes you can. I believe in you.”

  He looked at his watch. “It’s late and I have to sleep.” He took another step back. “I didn’t tell you, but I got a call from the office and tomorrow I have an early duty.” Another step back. “But I must say that you look really good, Chelsea. Really, really good. Maybe next time.”

  With that, he took a few more steps backward, then went into his bedroom and shut the door behind him.

  For a long moment, Chelsea stayed seated on the back of the couch. Her shirt was open, her bra loose and exposing her breasts. Her jeans were open down to her tiny thong.

  Her first thought was to pound on Eli’s bedroom door and demand . . . What? An apology? That he continue?

  If Rodrigo had done this to her, that’s what she would have done—and he would have loved it. But Eli just might give her that quizzical look of his and ask what had upset her.

  She slid off the couch and refastened her clothes. The unspent energy running through her made her feel like her whole body was vibrating.

  The breakfast table was covered with dirty dishes and she started to clear them away. But after just two plates, she stopped. Damn him! she thought. Who did he think he was? Who was she? Some strumpet he could pick up, then toss aside?

  She sneered at the dirty table. Eli would probably wake up expecting the whole house would be clean. His mom was a great housekeeper—unlike Chelsea’s mother, who barely knew where the kitchen was. Housework would interfere with her charity work and her tennis. Or at least that’s how it had been until her husband