Match Made In Paradise

by Barbara Dunlop

  “I tell you what,” Brodie said decisively. “Take the new Cessna down. Take the weekend; make it a long weekend. Feel her out. See what you think. Enjoy the noise and the crowds and the commercialism.”

  “You can spare me for a long weekend?”

  “Xavier can step up. I’ll make it work.”

  “What if I’m right? What if I’m in love with her?”

  Brodie plunked his beer on the table and shook his head. “I guess the heart wants what the heart wants.”

  “Seriously? You’re going poetic?”

  “No, I’m mocking you.” Then Brodie frowned. “Ah hell, I’d sure hate to lose you.”

  Silas hated the thought too. “This is the best job I’ve ever had.”

  “But she’s the best woman you’ve ever had.”

  Silas couldn’t help but smile thinking about her. “By far.”

  * * *

  * * *

  Mia’s bags were packed and waiting for her driver to arrive. Nine years ago, she’d moved in with all of Alastair’s things. Now she was leaving them here for Henry and Hannah. Her closet was full of more clothes than she’d ever wear, plus she chose new Lafayette outfits every season. So, she’d been very selective, taking things that were comfortable more than glamorous. If she needed a killer outfit, she could always get something from the warehouse. She was a standard size and easy to fit.

  She had a one-month reservation at the Waldorf to give herself time to condo shop.

  “As your lawyer, I have to seriously advise against this,” Marnie said, where they sat in the formal great room under the huge portrait of Alastair’s father that hung above the ornate stone fireplace. The fireplace hadn’t seen a fire in decades.

  The mantel was covered in expensive sculptures, including two golden candlesticks. The candles never burned either. Mia hadn’t given that a single thought, at least until she stayed in Alaska. In Paradise, fireplaces were for heating and candles were for making light. In Raven’s cabin, anyway, nothing was for show.

  “Your objection is noted.” Mia took a sip of her final bottle of Chateau Garrant. It had been Alastair’s favorite.

  “The house I can see,” Marnie said. “But I busted my butt to get you sole control of Lafayette Fashion.”

  “They’re his kids, Marnie.”

  “They’re his little terrors.”

  “They’re not as bad as we thought.”

  “But two-thirds—two-thirds of the company to them?”

  “There are three of us. That seemed fair. I didn’t give any of it to Theresa.”

  “I’d have had you committed if you’d tried to bring her into the mix.”

  Mia laughed at Marnie’s scowl.

  “Can we at least take a few bottles of this with us?” Marnie asked.

  Mia waved a hand. “Take as many as you like.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’m really going to,” Marnie warned, coming to her feet.

  “You know the way to the wine cellar.”

  “I do.” Marnie paused. “You’re sure?”

  “Have at it.”

  Marnie grinned then and headed for the basement stairs.

  The doorbell rang, and Mia rose to meet the driver. This evening was her final good-bye to the house, and it felt even better than she’d expected to leave the past behind.

  She opened the door and staggered to a halt, finding Silas standing on the porch. She blinked for a moment, unable to believe what she was seeing.

  Her heart lifted with joy before astonishment settled in. “What are you doing here?”

  He gave a self-conscious half-smile. “I was in the neighborhood.” He paused. “Well, by neighborhood, I mean Los Angeles generally, not this particular street.” He looked past her into the foyer. “So, this is the place.”

  “Come in.” She realized she didn’t much care why he was here; she was just thrilled to see him, really thrilled, grab-him-and-kiss-him-hard-and-deep thrilled.

  He moved past her, gazing with interest at the high ceiling, the formal staircase and the rich mahogany walls. “It’s like a palace in here.”

  “It is grand,” she said, closing the door behind him.

  “Raven’s place must have been a shock to your system. No wonder you thought it was a joke.”

  “I got used to it,” she said, still fighting the urge to kiss him.

  “I doubt that.” He walked into the great room. “Paradise can’t compete with this.”

  “It’s not a competition,” she said, reluctantly accepting the fact that he wasn’t here to kiss her.

  It was strange to see him in these surroundings. He didn’t fit, not by any stretch. It wasn’t his clothes, the black work pants, the leather boots or the T-shirt delineating his broad shoulders and bulging biceps. It might have been his rangy build. But she thought it was the contained wildness, the power that didn’t seem to belong among all the elaborate trimmings.

  Another knock sounded on the door, and Mia went back, knowing this had to be her driver.

  It was.

  “Come in,” she told the uniformed man. She could feel Silas watching her. “The bags are upstairs in the master bedroom.” She pointed to the staircase. “Turn left at the top. It’s the double doors at the end of the hall.”

  “How many bags?” he asked.

  “Six. They’re on the bed and on the floor, burgundy plaid.”

  “I’ll get them loaded up right away,” the man said. He gave Silas a nod and headed up the stairs.

  “Going someplace?” Silas asked. He was frowning as he watched the driver disappear.

  “The Waldorf.”

  “Which one?”

  “LA. Here.”

  Now he looked confused. “Why? Fumigating or something?”

  She recoiled at the thought. “No. Really?”

  He shrugged. “Bugs happen.”

  “Not here, they don’t.”

  He scanned the room. “I suppose they wouldn’t dare breach an inner sanctum like this.”

  “Plus, we have great cleaning staff and groundskeepers.”

  “As one does. So, why are you going to a hotel?”

  She wandered her way toward him, wanting to be near him. “I’m moving.”

  His expression flattened. “To where?”

  “The Waldorf, for starters.”

  “You’re going to live in a five-star hotel?”

  “Temporarily. I’m looking for a condo . . . or something. Smaller than this, anyway.”

  “You’re selling.” Now he looked like he approved of the decision.

  “I’m giving the house to Alastair’s kids.”

  The statement obviously surprised him. “I thought they were your enemies.”

  Before Mia could answer, Marnie strode through the hall into the great room.

  She had an armload of wine bottles. “At least these ones won’t go to waste.” She stopped short when she saw Silas.

  Mia stepped in with introductions. “Marnie, this is Silas Burke from Alaska. Silas, this is my lawyer, Marnie Anton.”

  Marnie looked him up and down and a smile grew on her face. “This is the guy?”

  “This is the guy,” Mia admitted, flicking a self-conscious glance Silas’s way. There was no denying Marnie knew they’d slept together.

  But Silas didn’t miss a beat. “Great to meet you, Marnie.” He stepped up, hand extended.

  She quickly set the five bottles on a side table and shook his hand. “Just raiding the wine cellar. With Mia’s permission, of course.”

  “I didn’t think you were stealing it.” His good-humored tone strummed over Mia like a soothing balm.

  She’d missed him so much. “You want to pick out a few to take back with you?” she asked him.
<
br />   “Oh, you definitely do,” Marnie said. “Alastair was quite the collector.”

  “Tempting,” Silas said. “But no thanks.”

  The driver made his way down the stairs, three of the six bags in hand.

  “Am I holding you up?” Silas asked.

  Mia was suddenly afraid he would leave just as suddenly as he’d arrived. “No, not at all.”

  Marnie retrieved her tote bag and began gathering up the wine, putting two of the bottles inside it. “I’ll review the real estate deal tomorrow and start drafting the other contract.” Her look to Mia was stern. “But my legal advice stands. We’ll talk more before you sign.”

  “You need some help with those?” Silas asked Marnie, making a motion toward the wine bottles.

  She gave him a grin. “I only took what I could carry. But you could get the door for me.” She hit a button on her car key fob and heard a double beep.

  Silas went for the door and met the driver coming back in. The driver headed back up the stairs while Silas waited for Marnie.

  “Thanks,” Mia said to Marnie, giving her a pat on the shoulder in lieu of an awkward hug around the bottles.

  “Call me if you have questions, ideas, any second thoughts.”

  “I won’t have second thoughts.” Seeing Silas here in the house made Mia even more convinced she’d made the right decision on all fronts. “But I’ll call.”

  “Second thoughts?” Silas asked as he closed the door behind Marnie.

  The driver’s muffled footsteps sounded on the staircase. “This is all of them?”

  “That’s the lot,” she said.

  He glanced at Silas. “I’ll be outside whenever you’re ready. Take your time.”

  “I’ve got a car here,” Silas said to Mia. “I can drive you over.”

  The driver stopped halfway out the door to wait for Mia’s decision.

  “Sure,” she said, more than happy to prolong their visit, still hoping a hug and a kiss from him would be somewhere in the mix. She’d been dreaming of his arms night after night.

  “I’ll leave the bags with the bellhop,” the driver said.

  “Thank you.”

  Silas was quick on the draw and tucked some money into the man’s pocket. “Appreciate that.”

  * * *

  * * *

  Silas stopped his rental car in front of the lighted gardens of the Waldorf entrance. He didn’t know what he’d expected to find in LA, but it wasn’t Mia moving out of her mansion—a mansion that was about ten times bigger than he’d expected.

  He’d known she had money, that Alastair’s company had been successful, but he hadn’t expected a palace sitting in the middle of a meticulously groomed park. No wonder she had a staff of seven. His vague plan to win her back seemed patently ridiculous right now.

  “Have you had dinner?” she asked as the valet approached the driver’s side and Silas unrolled the window.

  Silas shook his head.

  “Then come in and have something. I’m hungry too.”

  Silas looked down at his clothes. “I doubt they’ll serve me dressed like this.”

  She seemed to consider the problem.

  “Checking in, sir?” the valet asked.

  “We can go up to the rooftop lounge,” she said to Silas. “It’s casual.”

  “There’s casual, and then there’s casual.” Silas didn’t know why he was hesitating. The very last thing he wanted to do was drop Mia off at the front door and leave.

  “Sir?” the valet asked.

  “Yes,” Silas answered, opening his door to get out.

  A bellhop opened the door on Mia’s side.

  “Can we assist with the luggage?” the bellhop asked Silas over the roof of the car.

  “We sent the bags ahead,” Mia answered the man.

  “If you let the front desk know, they’ll get them to your room right away.”

  The valet handed Silas a ticket.

  “Check-in is this way.” The bellhop took the lead, gesturing them through a set of glass doors.

  “Your name?” he asked Silas.

  “Mia Westberg,” Silas answered.

  The man smoothly turned his attention to Mia, obviously realizing his error. “I’ll let the front desk know you’ve arrived.”

  Once the check-in clerk was given Mia’s name, a flurry of activity ensued. Another man in a suit jacket who looked to be a manager hustled around the end of the front desk to personally present her with a room key and assure her that her bags had already been taken upstairs. And when she mentioned they wanted to dine on the rooftop, an assistant hovering near the manager produced a cell phone and confirmed a reservation with the urgency, speed and precision of a well-run fire department.

  “I take it they know you here?” Silas whispered in her ear.

  “My assistant must have booked a fancy suite,” she whispered back.

  “The gold elevator at the south end will take you to the penthouse floor,” the manager told Mia, pointing the way. “If you’d like to go directly to the rooftop, take the black elevator straight across. There’s a sign above it.”

  “Is my outfit a problem?” Silas asked, gesturing to his pants and T-shirt. Better to get the embarrassment over with down here than get kicked out once they were upstairs.

  “No, sir. That’s not a problem at all.”

  “I told you not to worry,” Mia said, standing there in dangling diamond earrings, a sparkling silver blouse topped with a cropped, leather accented jacket, slim black dress pants and killer shoes. Really sexy, sexy shoes.

  “I didn’t want to run into a problem upstairs.”

  “You’re anticipating contingencies again, aren’t you?”

  “They’ll probably think I’m your driver.”

  “You’re my pilot.” She looked at the manager with a grin. “He’s my pilot.”

  Silas gave her a gentle squeeze on the arm.

  He didn’t care what the hotel staff thought of him.

  The manager handed her a key card. “Very good, ma’am. I’m Armond Hanover. Please call down if you need anything, anything at all.”

  “Thank you so much, Armond.”

  They took the elevator straight to the outdoor rooftop lounge and were shown to a table with a view of the sunset.

  A waitress was by their side a moment later offering cocktails. Mia asked for a martini, Silas went for a whiskey.

  The light breeze lifted her blond hair in the waning sunshine, and she reached into her bag for a tie, raking the hair back into a ponytail that left just enough of the strands loose to frame her face.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  The apology took her by surprise. “For what?”

  “For the way I left things the day you left. ‘It was great meeting you.’ Not my finest line.”

  “I wasn’t looking for a good line.”

  “I know.” His tone was full of regret. “You deserved honesty. But what I wanted was to beg you to stay, and I knew I couldn’t do that. What I should have said was this: You were so far beyond the best night of my life. You were the best . . . everything in my life.”

  Her heart warmed. “Thanks for saying it now.”

  He paused and seemed to drink her in. “You are incredibly beautiful.”

  She gave a self-conscious smile. “Well, you are incredibly handsome.”

  He chuckled at that, rubbing his chin and feeling the few days’ stubble.

  “It’s rakish,” she said.

  “Is rakish good?”

  “Rakish is sexy.”

  “Are you going to sleep with me?” He clamped his jaw, not believing he’d blurted his thought out so bluntly. He braced himself for her reaction. Whatever it was, he deserved it.

  She leaned forward. She didn’t look angry. She
looked intrigued. “Is that an invitation?”

  He leaned as close as he dared. “It’s a standing invitation. Has been since Wildflower Lake.”

  “Then, I accept.” She sat back in her chair, grinning as their drinks arrived and Silas absorbed his incredible good fortune at this unexpected turn of events.

  They snacked on samosas, beef skewers, guacamole and cherry tarts. Then they headed down to Mia’s suite and made leisurely love in a luxury bed, with the patio doors open and the warm Pacific breeze billowing over diaphanous curtains.

  Mia slept in his arms, while Silas laid awake willing the sunrise away.

  Then she turned onto her back, and he suddenly realized the sun was full up.

  “Morning,” she said, meeting his eyes with a beautiful smile.

  He kissed her tenderly. “Morning.”

  “You sleep well?”

  “Yes.” He had when he’d finally given in to it.

  “Me too.” She stretched. “Hungry?”

  “Whatever you want.”

  “Coffee,” she said, reaching for the phone beside the bed.

  “I can make it.” There was a coffee machine in the little kitchen.

  “No.” She put her arm across his stomach. “Don’t leave yet.”

  “No problem.” He’d stay in her bed just as long as she liked.

  After a short conversation with room service, she hung up the phone. She nestled her head back against his shoulder and he held her close, trailing his fingertips over the curve of her hip.

  “Tell me why,” she said.

  “Because you’re beautiful and I’m very into you.” He could feel her smile.

  “Not why you made love to me. Why you’re here.” She twisted her head so she could look up at him in the bright sunshine.

  “I’m picking up a thing,” he lied.

  After last night, seeing her mansion, seeing her life, he knew he’d been crazy to think he could be a part of it. “For Brodie. It’s an electronic thing, a computer . . . piece.”

  She sobered. “Why are you lying to me?”

  He struggled to squelch his guilt so that it wouldn’t show on his face. “I’m not.”

  She sat up. “Silas? What’s going on?”