by Diana Palmer
“I do so!” she said indignantly. She tossed back her short, dark hair with a haughty hand. “I’ll have you know I could have been the poor woman’s Wright brothers with just a little more training.”
“Remember that airplane model I got you for Christmas two years ago?” Mike asked her. “The one you put the wings on upside down?”
Her face flushed. “They weren’t marked.”
“Most people know what they look like.”
“I got the propeller in the right place,” she reminded him. “One out of two isn’t bad.”
“Weren’t you going to interview the mayor on that new water system we’re getting federal funds to build?” he asked her.
“Right!” she said, backing out of the office. “You bet. I’m on my way. Good to have you back, Ralley.”
Ralley smiled, and it was genuine. “It’s good to be back,” he said, and meant it. It was in his whole look.
“Pictures,” Mike reminded her.
She made a face. “I’ll forget to put film in the camera again,” she protested.
“I already loaded it. Bye!”
She shook her head as she walked toward her own office. “Oh, the perils of being a journalist...” she mumbled.
The next few days went by in a rush. Nikki forced herself to keep busy, not to think about the past at all. She and Ralley were still a little distant with each other, but she was beginning to understand Mike’s reason for bringing the reporter back. Ralley was a good editorial writer, one of the best. He got his facts straight, and he wasn’t afraid to state them, despite the flak. He wouldn’t pass the buck to Mike, either. If an irate reader called, Ralley talked to him, soothed him, explained his point of view and listened to the reader’s. He’d matured a lot in the past year, ever since Leda’s death. But what Nikki had once felt for him was gone forever.
On the other hand, Ralley was noticing Nikki in a way he hadn’t before, even when they were engaged. She’d just been someone to go around with back then, pretty and cute and sparkling. But Nikki had changed, too; she was much more of a woman now, and Ralley found himself regretting his impulsive elopement with Leda. Not that he hadn’t cared for Leda; he had. But no one knew how strained the marriage had become in the past few months. Leda and he had been perfect together physically. She’d given him something that Nikki had never tried to give. Where Nikki was chaste and reserved and unresponsive, Leda had been a veritable volcano. She’d captivated him, and he’d let himself be led to the altar. But once the first few weeks of marriage had dampened those high-burning fires, he’d begun to notice things about Leda that he hadn’t noticed before the marriage. She was lazy. She didn’t like housework, she hated to cook, she wanted to be with him constantly. He couldn’t even escape her in the evenings; she followed him around like a puppy. In desperation he’d suggested that she might enjoy a job of her own, but she’d refused flatly to go to work. She had a husband to do that. All she needed to do was look beautiful and make sure his clothes went to the cleaners once a week.
Probably they’d have wound up in divorce court eventually, but Ralley wasn’t sharing that tidbit with anyone. Let them think it was the perfect marriage; it would be better for all concerned, especially for him. If Nikki felt sorry for him, he might have a chance of winning her back. This new Nikki was exciting, and he sensed a new maturity in her. And since there was obviously no other man in her life, she’d probably never gotten over him. He’d smiled secretively at the thought. How sweet of her to pine over him. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to try too hard after all.
It should have gotten better. She should have been able to put Cal in the back of her mind and finally blot him out of it entirely. But each day the wanting was worse, the ache was worse, until she wound up awake until two and three o’clock every morning, pacing, pacing, like a caged little animal.
Her mind fed on him, on bits and pieces of memory that she threaded and sewed into a silken veil to clothe the raw wound inside her that being without him had caused. She went to work mechanically, she did interviews, she wrote stories, she took pictures, she helped make up the paper, she stripped in corrections and wrote headlines. But nothing she did gave her any pleasure. She grew melancholy and pale, and even Ralley began to notice how dull her emerald eyes had become, how her steps dragged. She barely ate at all anymore, drinking cup after cup of black coffee and walking the floor at night.
Cal was probably out with a new woman every night, she told herself, and cried just at the thought of another woman holding him, touching him, caressing him with her eyes as Nikki had, loving him...
She was literally mourning him, and nothing eased the pain, nothing lessened the gnawing hunger for him.
Late on Friday night she was reluctantly watching a police drama with Mike when Jenny went to answer the phone.
“Nikki, it’s for you,” Jenny called, and there was a note in her voice that puzzled the younger woman.
Nikki lifted the receiver and said, “Hello,” bracing herself to fend off Ralley one more time.
“Hello, yourself,” came a deep, unmistakable voice from the other end of the line.
She felt a tingle of excitement the length of her body and had to sit down because her knees buckled. Easy, girl, she told herself. Easy.
“How are you?” she asked politely.
“How the hell do you think I am?” he growled. “You don’t sound so good yourself.”
She cleared her throat. “I’ve been working hard,” she told him.
There was a muffled curse. “Look, meet me at the Ashton airport in an hour.”
It was like an electric shock, lifting her from the chair. “Do what!” she burst out.
“You heard me. One hour.” And the line went dead.
She sat there looking at the receiver with the same expression a fisherman would have on his face if he threw in his line and pulled out a chicken dinner.
“Well, was it him?” Jenny and Mike chorused, watching her from the doorway of the living room.
She nodded.
“Is he coming here?” Jenny asked, poised to grab a broom and a mop and head for the stove to cook.
“I think so. He said to meet him at the airport in an hour.”
“He’s coming.” Jenny took off like a shot.
“I’ll put some ice in the cooler for drinks,” Mike murmured, following her.
Nikki clutched the receiver against her, cradling it, rocking it, while she finally let the tears loose.
She was sitting at the airport in Mike’s T-bird fifteen minutes before Cal was due, with the doors locked and the CB unit on as Mike had made her promise, since the airfield was deserted. The airport manager’s family lived in the mobile home just beside the apron, and their lights were still on. Mike had probably called them, too, Nikki thought with a smile. He and Jenny were like a couple of mother hens with a chick over her. It was good to have people care about you, even if they did carry it to extremes. Nikki didn’t know what her life would have been like if it hadn’t been for them.
A droning sound caught her attention. She straightened her white shirtwaist dress and primped in the rearview mirror under the dome light, making sure her face looked its best with the hint of soft pink lipstick, her dark hair curled toward her face in a soft style that she hoped suited her. Her fingers trembled as she nudged it into place; her heart was shaking her in its fury.
A small jet dropped down onto the runway with precision point landing, coming easily to a stop to turn and taxi onto the apron. On the side was painted STEEL AVIATION.
Nikki was already standing on the pavement, her eyes straining to see the door opening in the spill of the nearby streetlights.
A tall, big man in a pale suit came quickly out of it and stepped decisively toward her. Before he made another move, she was running to him, her arms open, her eyes blurring him as tears veiled the
m.
“Cal!” she cried.
His arms opened as she reached them. He caught her, lifted her, crushed her against him, finding her mouth with his in one smooth, rough motion to take it as if it had belonged to him since time immemorial. She clung, giving him back the kiss, holding him, sobbing wildly as the world melted away in her mind and there was only the feel of his arms and his mouth, the scent of him, the reality of him. It was like coming home after a long, lonely journey.
“Am I hurting you?” he whispered huskily against her mouth. “Nikki, am I hurting?”
“No.” She kissed him back hungrily. “Oh no! Cal, I’ve missed you...”
His mouth broke against hers again and again, tasting, touching, demanding. There had been a slight chill in the air, but she was warm now, wrapped up so closely against his massive frame, safe and protected in the circle of his big arms.
She gave him everything that she had in the way of response, holding back nothing. Her body seemed to burn everywhere it touched him, aching, clinging to the powerful lines of his.
“I’ll always belong to you,” she whispered breathlessly. “Whether you want me or not...”
“I want you,” he said in a deep, rough tone.
She leaned her forehead against his chin, fighting to catch her breath. Her body felt molten, liquid, and she clung to him for support.
His breath came with as much difficulty as hers. He stood quietly, holding her until his hard, heavy pulse calmed, until the faint tremor went out of his powerful arms.
“My aunt’s in the kitchen, cooking,” she whispered. “Can you stay?”
“Only the night,” he murmured quietly, “I’m due in Panama City by six o’clock tomorrow night for an early meeting with some of my staff. I just stopped by to see you.”
“Oh, I see.” She took a small, hurting breath.
“No, I don’t think you do.” He smiled.
“Would your pilot like to come along?” she asked, glancing back toward the plane.
He eyed her with faint amusement. “I founded Steel Aviation and you’re asking who flew me?”
Her eyes went from the plane back to him. “I thought it was oil.”
“Oil came first. When I had the money, I went into hotels and aviation.” He smiled at her confusion. “I like airplanes, don’t you?”
“Oh yes, but I don’t think I could fly a jet. Even a baby jet.”
“I’ll teach you.” He slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close against his side. “Oh God, you feel good to me,” he murmured, brushing his mouth against her temple. “I didn’t know how lonely I was until I left you. I’m sorry this has to be such a short visit. But I’ll be back again in a week—on your birthday. Don’t you forget. I’ll be at your house at 5:00 p.m. sharp to pick you up. Okay?”
She smiled up at him, her face brightening. “Okay.” He held the car door open for her, but when she sat behind the wheel, he slid in and pushed her aside with his bulk. “Move over,” he said. “Nobody drives me except me. Not even you.”
“Well, I like that!” she said indignantly, giving him just enough room to fit under the steering wheel. He slid the seat back to allow his long legs room enough to fit under the wheel and lifted an eyebrow at her.
“Woman’s libber,” he accused.
“Male chauvinist pig,” she came right back.
He laughed as he pulled the car away from the airport. “You color the world for me,” he murmured. “I think I’d forgotten how to laugh, how to play, until you came along.”
She lowered her eyes, the memory of that night between them, but she smiled. “I’m glad you think so.”
“Well, direct me, unless you want to drive around in circles all night!” he teased, and she turned her attention to getting them home.
When they arrived at her door, she got out of the car in a fog, allowing herself to be escorted up the steps and into the house.
“Don’t they ever lock this door?” Cal asked when he discovered that he didn’t need the key Nikki had handed him.
She laughed softly. “Uncle Mike forgets. Someone constantly nags him about it, but I think it’s gotten to the revenge stage now.”
“I like this architecture,” he murmured, studying the entrance hall and the staircase. “Neoclassical, isn’t it?”
“Yes, and there’s quite a story behind it. Remind me to tell you someday.” She took off her light jacket and tossed it on the back of the sofa in the living room. Mike and Jenny were nowhere in sight.
Cal took off his suit coat and loosened his tie. “God, it’s hot here,” he murmured.
“We used to have air-conditioning,” she said apologetically, rising to turn on the big window fan, “but Mike got a horrible allergy to it and we had to take it out. Fortunately it doesn’t stay this hot year-round, and he isn’t allergic to heat. Don’t you want to change into something...”
“More comfortable?” he suggested with a grin.
She flushed, glancing away from his wicked gaze. “I thought that suit might be hot.”
“It is. Care to help me take it off?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he was having such fun at her expense, it seemed a shame to spoil it.
She walked over to him and began to unfasten, slowly, the buttons on his silky vest. Her eyebrows levered up at the expression on his broad, dark face. “You asked for help. I’m only trying to be hospitable.”
His big chest rose and fell roughly under a skirl of deep, pleased laughter. “Imp,” he murmured, reaching down to jerk her body against him. “Delightful, little pixie.” The smile vanished, and his eyes were lonely, still. “My God, I’ve been lonely, Nicole!”
It was like coming back to life after being buried. All the weight of depression lifted, floated up, soared away, and her eyes burned on his face like pencils making sketches. He was so good to look at, to touch, to be held by. And she’d missed him unbearably. She recognized that loneliness in his eyes, because it was a mirror of her own.
“Cal, I’ve missed you, too,” she whispered fervently. She bit her bottom lip, searching his face, his eyes, hungrily. All at once her arms went up to him and he lifted her, crushed her against his big, warm body. “Kiss me...” she pleaded, her voice breaking, splintering as his dark head bent and his mouth took hers.
He was rough this time, as if the waiting had worn him, tried his patience, as if he’d never expected to see her again in this life.
“I missed you,” he repeated against her eager, soft mouth, his voice deep, husky, his arms hurting as they crushed her into his huge frame. “You took the sunlight with you, the music... God, Nicole, I’ve been lonely before, but never like this.”
She went up on tiptoe to give him back the kiss, all sensation, all woman. She felt him tremble in her arms with a sense of wonder at her own power.
“Come home with me,” he groaned. “It’s a huge town house. There’s more than enough room...”
“And be what, Cal?” she asked quietly, searching his eyes.
“My woman,” he said.
She shook her head with a sad, hurting smile. “There’s another name for a woman who lets herself be kept by a man. I don’t want it.” She drew away from him. “Besides,” she said, staring out the dark window, “I have my own life here, a job I enjoy, roots... We did agree not to make any commitments, didn’t we?”
He was silent for a long moment before he spoke. “I guess we did,” he said curtly. His eyes were accusing as they met hers. “I knew you were going to be trouble the minute I laid eyes on you,” he added.
She smiled despite the heartache that was eating at her. The temptation to give in was great. But not as great as her own self-respect, and she couldn’t sacrifice that to become an expensive plaything. She went back to him, reaching up to kiss him again. “Let’s live one day at a time, okay?” sh
e asked softly.
He grimaced. “I suppose we’ll have to. Flying visits, like this, phone calls...” His mouth crushed down against hers. “Never mind, just kiss me and ease the ache a little.”
Mike and Jenny came in together a few minutes later, exchanging smug glances when they found Cal and Nikki deep in conversation in the living room. Nikki looked up, only just realizing that they must have gone for a drive to give her some privacy with Cal, and she flushed as she met Jenny’s eyes.
She made the introductions, noticing the easy way Cal was with her aunt and uncle, as if he’d known them for years. He and Mike spent the rest of the evening discussing stocks, bonds, politics and aviation, while Jenny and Nikki murmured and listened.
“How about some more coffee?” Jenny asked finally, “I’ve got a pie in the refrigerator...”
“None for me, thanks,” Cal said, rising. “It’s been a long day for me, and if you don’t mind an unsociable visitor, I think I’ll have an early night. I’ll have to fly out tomorrow afternoon for a meeting in Panama City.”
“Mike will show you which room,” Jenny said with a smile. “We’re glad you could stay, and I’m sure Nikki is,” she added.
Cal smiled at Nikki, his eyes possessive. “I hope so,” he murmured. “Good night, honey.”
“Good night, Cal,” she murmured.
“Oh, you’ve got tomorrow off,” Mike called over his shoulder. “You can’t leave Mr. Steel to sit around the house alone.”
“Cal,” their guest corrected. “I’m only Mr. Steel to my enemies.” And, with a grin, he left the room.
“Now,” Jenny began when they heard a door close upstairs, “do tell me all about that nice small businessman you met in Nassau. Remember, the one with the oversize ego...”
“I should have his ego,” Mike moaned as he rejoined them, dropping down into his big armchair by the dark window. “A corporate giant, in my home.”
“Reach for your pad, and I’ll strangle you,” Nikki said mutinously. She stood over her uncle with hard eyes. “He’s a guest, not a walking news story. Okay?”