He listened to the muted hum of the hot-tub motor and the soft bubbling of the churning water. The only other sound was the faint sighing of nearby tree branches.
It occurred to him that for most of his adult life he had taken for granted his ability to focus on a specific goal. His father, Sawyer Fairfax, had once told him it was a gift, like being able to write music or paint pictures. It was like anything else, Sawyer had told him. Use it or lose it. Jack had used it.
His big mistake six months ago, he decided, had been trying to concentrate on two goals simultaneously: Elizabeth and Excalibur.
He had lost the first and was precariously close to losing the second.
He heard the sliding glass door open behind him.
“Jack?” Elizabeth’s voice was sharp with curiosity. “What in the world are you doing out here?”
“Thinking.”
“Oh.” There was a short pause. “Give me a minute. I’ll join you.”
“I’m not sure that would be a good idea,” he said softly. Much too softly for her to hear.
She vanished back inside the house. A light came on upstairs. A short time later she reappeared. Jack watched her walk toward him through the shadows. She was enveloped in a fluffy white toweling robe.
A surge of heat went through him as she undid the sash of the robe. She should have turned off the light before coming back down here, he thought. There was just enough glow spilling from the upstairs windows to enable him to see her.
If she expected him to simply ignore her while she climbed into a hot tub with him, she could damn well think again.
She slipped out of the robe, revealing the one-piece bathing suit she wore. So much for his fantasy of getting naked with her in a hot tub.
She frowned at him as she climbed cautiously into the tub. “Care to share the joke?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s on me.”
She gave him another quick, unreadable look and then settled down on one of the benches. In the shadows he could see the water frothing around the gentle swell of her breasts, but everything beneath the surface was concealed. He would have to use his imagination, he decided. Then again, maybe that wasn’t such a terrific idea, either.
“Couldn’t sleep after all?” he asked.
“I did for a while. But I woke up a few minutes ago and started thinking.” She tilted her head back against the edge of the tub. “We didn’t make much progress tonight, did we?”
“I wouldn’t say that. We identified a lot of the people who knew Tyler Page on the set of Fast Company. One of them might be able to give us some idea of where he is now.”
“Mirror Springs is filled with people. If he’s staying somewhere in town, he must have made his reservations weeks ago. Maybe we should—”
“Forget it. I had Larry check out that angle first. There’s no record of a Tyler Page registered at any hotel, motel, or bed-and-breakfast in town or anywhere nearby. If he’s here, he’s hiding under another name. And according to Larry, he’s still not using his credit cards.”
Elizabeth pondered that for a moment. “If he made reservations several weeks back under an assumed name and booked them without using a credit card or check, he must have planned to steal the specimen some time ago. This wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment thing.”
“Nope. Looks like the little SOB planned it for quite a while.”
“All this crafty, detail-oriented plotting doesn’t quite fit with what you’ve told me about his personality. You said he was absentminded and something of a slob. Except when it came to his work.”
“Maybe he considered the theft part of his research and development of the crystal,” Jack said. “Gave the project the same kind of attention he gave his work.”
“Or maybe he had a little help,” Elizabeth suggested quietly.
Jack groaned and settled deeper into the tub. “I’ve been trying not to think about that possibility. If there’s more than one person involved in this thing, it’s going to get much more complicated.”
“But it is a possibility.”
“Yeah, it’s a possibility. But on the positive side, there’s no one else mysteriously missing from the lab where Tyler Page worked. He seems to have had no close friends or relatives.”
“What about a lover?”
Jack grunted. “Everyone who knew him at Excalibur says he didn’t have a love life. Didn’t seem to be interested in women.”
“Men?”
Jack shook his head. “Or men, either. All he cared about was Soft Focus and making movies.”
She closed her eyes. “We might not find him, Jack.”
He flexed his fingers around the edge of the tub. “We’ll find him. He’ll turn up here at the festival. He won’t be able to resist.”
“You’re very sure of that, aren’t you?”
“Like I said, when you know a man’s greatest passion, you know his greatest weakness. Fast Company is Page’s passion. Sooner or later, he’ll turn up. I still think he’ll try to sell the crystal back to me.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“There’s nothing else he can do with it except sell it. I’m his best potential buyer.”
She opened her eyes and looked at him. “A couple of days ago you made some comment about not letting Tyler Page ruin your professional reputation. But what will you really do if we don’t get the specimen back in time for the Veltran presentation?”
“I’m committed to saving Excalibur,” he said evenly.
“And your reputation.”
“And my reputation,” he agreed.
“You picked a hard one this time, Jack. But most of them have been hard, haven’t they?”
He glanced at her. “What are we talking about now?”
“The kind of work you do. I did some checking during the past six months. Excalibur isn’t the first small, family-held company you’ve tried to save. Why?”
What was this all about? he wondered. Why was she getting so intense? “Turning around companies like Excalibur is what I do.”
“Maybe, but I would have figured that you were too smart to waste your time with a company facing the kind of odds Excalibur is facing.”
“I like the odds.”
“Even if you get Soft Focus back, you can’t be sure the firm will have the resources to take it to market.”
“If we get it back, I can get it to market.”
“Why don’t you cut your losses and go find another client?”
He looked at her across the foaming water. “I don’t walk away from a client after I sign the contract.”
“That brings up another question. I made some calls. Asked some people I know about some of your past contracts. I noticed a pattern.”
“What the hell is this? Have you spent the past six months setting up a file on me?”
“I didn’t spend the entire time setting up the file,” she said. “Just some of the time.”
He was dumbfounded. She’d made a file? On him? He didn’t know whether to be angry or wary or flattered.
“Well, hell,” he finally said neutrally.
“I noticed that you almost always sign on with small, struggling, closely held or family-held companies. The contract you signed with Morgan to strategize the Galloway takeover was an exception to your usual pattern.”
He looked up at the stars. “I needed a company the size of Morgan to make it happen. A small operation wouldn’t have had the resources or the incentive to do the job.”
She smiled thinly. “And you were bound and determined to have your revenge on Galloway, weren’t you?”
He said nothing.
“Tell me,” she said, “why do you only work for small, privately held firms? I would think that, generally speaking, the larger the company, the bigger the payoff for a turnaround consultant. Everyone knows about those golden parachutes executives in your position usually get when they take the helm of a major firm. Even if the companies g
o under, they routinely walk away with huge bonuses in addition to their salaries. But you don’t sign contracts like those.”
“You know that for a fact, huh?”
“Your business life history is in my file.”
“Huh.” A file. On him.
“Care to explain?” she prodded.
He chose his words with caution. “I like working with the small family-helds. I have greater control. More opportunity to affect the outcome. And there are no stockholders to appease.”
She gave him a look of mingled amusement and disbelief. “You’re telling me that you actually prefer dealing with squabbling family members like the ones on the Excalibur board?”
Her wry tone made him grin briefly. “I’ll admit that handling the Ingersolls, especially Angela, is a challenge. Want to know a deep, dark secret?”
“What’s that?”
“There have been times during the past six months when I’ve been damned glad you forced me to give you a seat on the board.”
She gave him a knowing look. “You’ve used me to back you up, haven’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Nice to know I haven’t been a complete and unmitigated thorn in your side.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t a thorn in my side, just that you’ve been a useful thorn.”
She studied him for a while. “So it’s the challenge and the sense of control?”
“Now what are you talking about?”
“The reasons why you almost always work for the little firms. You like the challenge and the control you have in those kinds of turnaround situations.”
“Like I said, it’s what I do.”
“How very macho.” Her mouth curved slightly. “The modern equivalent of the hired gun back in the days of the Wild West. Loyal to your employer come hell or high water. When the job is done, you ride off into the sunset.”
He did not respond.
“I think there’s more to it than that, Jack,” she said very softly.
“Mind telling me why we’re having this conversation?”
“Probably because it’s after two o’clock in the morning.” She paused. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come out here.”
“Maybe not.”
She stood up abruptly in the churning water. The wet bathing suit clung, sleek and snug, to her slender waist and full hips. “This discussion appears to be deteriorating. I think I’ll go back to bed.”
He watched her climb out of the hot tub. “You really have a file on me?”
“A nice thick one.” She pulled on her robe. “I just hope for both our sakes that you’re as good as your track record says you are.”
She turned and walked toward the darkened doorway.
“Yeah, me too.” He stood up, strode through the frothing water to the tub steps, and climbed out.
“For heaven’s sake, Jack.”
He paused in the act of wrapping the towel around his waist and glanced toward the doorway. “Now what?”
She stared at him for a few seconds. Then she looked quickly away.
“Nothing.” Her voice sounded oddly muffled.
“What the hell is wrong?”
“I didn’t realize—” She had her back to him. “I mean, I just assumed that you were wearing a bathing suit, too.”
“Why would I wear a suit? Hell, I didn’t even bring one with me.”
“You should have said something,” she shot back on a rising note.
“Yeah, well, just make a note and put it in my file. ‘Doesn’t wear swim trunks in hot tubs.’ ”
He went to the control panel and flipped off the hot-tub switch. Give her plenty of time to run, he told himself.
But when he turned around he saw that she was still standing in the darkened doorway. She was facing him again, her arms crossed very tightly beneath her breasts. She watched him with brooding, unreadable eyes.
“Sorry,” she said very stiffly. “I overreacted.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He shoved his hand through his steam-dampened hair as he walked toward her, scattering a few stray drops. “We’re both under a lot of pressure here.”
“Yes.” She frowned, as if that were a particularly new and worrisome concept, one she had not considered until now. “That’s true, isn’t it. We’ll each have to make allowances.”
“You make allowances. I’m going to bed.” He started past her through the doorway.
“Jack?”
He stopped and turned to look at her. She was so close that he could have touched her. So close that he could take her into his arms. Close enough to allow him to see the haunted look in her eyes.
“What is it?” he asked softly. “Worried about how we’re going to get through the week together?”
“No.”
“Well, three cheers for you.” He moved closer and planted one hand on the sliding glass door frame above her head. “I’m sure as hell worried about it.”
“Why?” She lifted her chin, but she did not try to duck away beneath his arm. “Because you’re afraid I’ll freak out every time I see you sitting in the hot tub?”
“No.” He leaned closer. “Because every time I see you, I want to pick up where we left off six months ago.”
“Why would you want to do that? You called me the Ice Princess, remember?”
“I was pissed off at the time.”
“And now you’re no longer pissed off?”
“I’m still pissed,” he said, thinking about it. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to pick up where we left off six months ago.”
Her lashes veiled her eyes. “That would be very stupid.”
“Very.” He kept one hand braced against the frame and used the other one to cradle her stubborn chin. “But I’ve been known to do stupid things.”
“Probably not this stupid.”
“Don’t bet on it.”
“Things could never be the same,” she said very distinctly. “Not now.”
Images of their one night together flashed through him. He remembered his own driving urgency. He had been blindsided by his reaction to her that night. Accustomed to making love the same way he did business, with absolute control and attention to detail, he knew that he had screwed up badly. He had been utterly oblivious of the small, telltale signs that should have warned him that he was moving too quickly. Hell, if he was honest with himself, he had to admit that even if he had been aware of them, he probably could not have slowed down much. Not that first time. But he knew her failure to find satisfaction in his arms had cost him dearly. The morning after, she had learned that he was the man behind the Galloway deal. There had been no second chances in bed.
“The last thing I want,” he said in a very low voice, “is for things to be the same as they were that first time between us.”
“Jack—”
“You have my personal guarantee that next time things will be very, very different.”
She cleared her throat. “You’re missing the point here.”
“Don’t think so.” He lowered his mouth until it was only an inch or so above hers. “I notice that you’re not running, screaming, into the night.”
“Should I?” she said in a hushed voice.
“Let’s find out.”
He covered her mouth with his own.
And the rush hit him. Just as hard and fast as it had six months ago. But he was ready for it this time; braced to withstand the high winds at the heart of the tornado. This time he would get it right. This time he would stay in control.
He held himself in check, drawing out the kiss, searching for the response he wanted. She did not pull away. But neither did she throw her arms around his neck. He leaned in closer. He could feel the firm curves of her small breasts beneath the robe. She was still a little damp from the hot tub.
Her hands went to his shoulders. She parted her lips slightly.
He suddenly got the nasty feeling that she was testing him and maybe herself as well. She was willing to dip one to
e into the sea, but this time she was not about to dive in headfirst the way she had six months before.
Desperation threatened to sweep through him. He realized then that he had been nurturing a fantasy. In the back of his mind, he had convinced himself that, given another chance, he could ignite the fires in her. But what if he had been wrong?
He took his hand away from the door frame, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her close. She made a small, muffled sound—not a protest, but not exactly a sigh of surrender. Nevertheless, he was certain that he could feel the first flicker of a genuine response.
He deepened the kiss. She leaned into him. Relief and anticipation surged through him.
“If this is a test,” he whispered against her mouth, “I’m going to do whatever it takes to pass.”
He knew at once that he’d lost the moment. She stiffened, and pushed herself slightly away from him. Her eyes were inscrutable in the shadows. “Thanks for the warning.”
He put one hand back on the door frame above her head and gripped it hard. It was either that or pull her back into his arms again. He knew that would not be a good idea.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Decide to run, screaming into the night, after all?”
“I’m going to walk, not run. And I don’t think it will be necessary to do any screaming.” She slipped under his braced arm and moved deeper into the shadows of the living room, heading toward the stairs.
She was leaving, heading back to bed. Alone. He felt cold claws close around his gut. There would be no second chances tonight.
“How long are you going to continue punishing both of us for what you think I did to you six months ago?” he asked.
She paused at the foot of the stairs and turned to glance at him over her shoulder. In the darkness he could not see the expression on her face.
“You know, I would have thought that you were busy enough this week looking for Soft Focus, Jack. But if you really feel the urge to take on yet another challenge, I suggest you try something a little more exciting than a repeat of the seduction of the Ice Princess.”
“You think I want to start over because I see you as some kind of challenge?”
“Yes. That’s exactly what I think.”
Soft Focus Page 10