Lonely Millionaire

by Carol Grace

  Then he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again. Just to prove to himself that the first time wasn't a fluke. That he could make it happen again, the magic and the humming in the air around them.

  Mandy was intoxicated by the nearness of him, so dizzy that she couldn't stop. It was the wine and the soft autumn air, but most of all, it was Adam, the way he felt, and the way he tasted, clean and cool and fresh. She let the kiss go on and on, deepening, lengthening. She couldn't stop, wouldn't stop. He was so hard, so warm, so strong, and he fit her so well.

  Every hollow and groove of his matched a curve of hers. She'd never felt this way before, never knew it could be like this. She thought she'd loved Todd, and maybe she had, but she'd never wanted him the way she wanted Adam, more than anything. Anything she couldn't have, that is.

  She stared into his eyes, eyes that threatened to swallow her up, so deep and dark she could get lost in than and never find her way out. A fly buzzed around her ear and brought her back to reality. What on earth was she doing lying here on the ground with a man whose main interest was to get away from civilization and from her?

  She braced her arms against the hard ground and looked around. She was entangled with a man who was unavailable. He'd made that perfectly clear. He'd chosen a life-style that precluded having a woman share it And she wasn't going to get burned again. Very carefully, she untangled herself from Adam, then she sat back on the grass a safe distance away and brushed off flecks of dirt from the pants she'd borrowed from Laurie. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Adam had propped himself on one elbow, stuck a blade of grass between his teeth and was giving her a look she couldn't fathom.

  "We didn't finish what we started," he observed, breathing hard.

  "And we're not going to," she told him.

  "Not even lunch?" He jumped to his feet with the agility of a panther and pulled her up by the hand, and she realized that he was going to pretend nothing had happened. Or that what had happened was just some lighthearted fun. While she was in danger of losing her heart, he was just having a good time.

  She didn't answer. She didn't trust her voice. She just let him pull her up the hill by the hand. Let him take his place under the tree, pick up his sandwich and resume eating as if nothing had happened. For him, nothing had happened, just a romp in the grass. She had to learn not to take things so seriously; had to stop trembling like a leaf in the breeze.

  She had to remember Adam was on vacation and she was part of the entertainment. She forced herself to finish her sandwich, but she didn't taste it. She washed it down with mineral water, realizing she had to keep her wits about her from now on. There would be no more good times at her expense. She didn't want to be anyone's R and R. The only kind of man she was interested in was someone like Jack, someone who was looking for a year-round, full-time, permanent relationship—in other words, marriage. Adam didn't even believe in it. Which reminded her, she hadn't even finished reading Jack's letter. That was Adam's fault. He'd kept her so busy she hadn't had a minute to herself.

  Back at the car, Adam yawned again and Mandy offered to drive.

  "Thanks," he said. "I need a nap."

  "Aren't you even going to look at the scenery?" she asked as he got in next to her and let his head fall back against the headrest. Why had they come all this way if he was just going to sleep on the way home? But he didn't answer. He just closed his eyes and promptly fell asleep while she drove down the two-lane road that led to the freeway and across the Golden Gate Bridge. She wanted to wake him to point out Angel Island and Alcatraz, but she didn't.

  Occasionally she sneaked a look at his face, noting how the taut lines around his mouth softened in sleep, and how his forehead was smooth under his dark hair. His head bounced from side to side and she wondered how he could possibly sleep through that. As the car curved onto Parkside Drive, she felt his body lean toward her and his head land on her shoulder. She tried to push him over toward the window, but found she couldn't manage it. Or maybe she wasn't trying very hard, because the masculine scent of his hair and skin filled her senses and left her unable to do anything but drive and think about what had taken place back there in the grass. It would be better if he were awake and talking. It would be much better if his head weren't nestled against her shoulder. But he slept on while she daydreamed until she pulled up in front of her house.

  She turned off the motor and he lifted his head from her shoulder, shaking his shaggy head like a seal on the rocks below her house.

  "Was that a dream or did I really sleep on your shoulder all the way home?" he inquired with his eyes at half-mast, his face inches from hers. Mandy reached behind her, opened the car door and slid out without answering.

  He knew perfectly well where he'd slept all the way home. And he knew she could have pushed him away if she'd really wanted to. She took the grocery bag from the back seat and walked to the front door without a backward glance.

  Her goal was to get their relationship back on the proper footing, back to a guest-host relationship. An unusual guest, certainly, one who served her breakfast in bed, but still a guest. A guest whom she found extremely attractive. She wasn't afraid to admit she desired him. But only in a physical sense. In every other way he was inferior to, say, someone like Jack, whose personality shone through his letters, whose character was impeccably honest. Someone who wanted the same things she did, love and marriage.

  Wait a minute. Did Jack want her? He'd never said that. But she hadn't read his last letter. Not yet.

  She set the groceries on the kitchen table and turned to find that Adam had followed her into the kitchen. She backed up against the refrigerator and gripped the handle. How was it that he filled the room so completely? This large, spacious kitchen, filled it with his broad shoulders, his rumpled shirt and wrinkled khakis?

  While she watched, he unpacked the paper bags and laid the ingredients on the table. "What can I do to help?" she asked with a glance at the onions, tomatoes, mushrooms and meat sprawled out in front of them.

  "Nothing." He lifted the cleaver with one hand and tore open the package of beef. "I'll get things started and then I'll pick up the group at the airport."

  "But they're my guests."

  "But I promised to pick them up. And you just drove all the way home. Don't you have things to do?"

  "Yes, sure." Fascinated, she watched as he turned a chunk of beef into small squares, sliced mushrooms into quarters and chopped onions. "What is it?" she asked finally.

  "Beef Stroganoff."

  She nodded and edged her way around the room toward the door, feeling displaced, discombobulated and more than a little disturbed. He was in control, just as he had been since the moment he'd arrived, and there was nothing she could do about it.

  "I'll be in my room," she said. "If you need anything, call me."

  Adam nodded absently, and tossed the meat into a smoking pan. He was glad to have something to do besides think about Mandy, because thinking about Mandy led to kissing Mandy and that was wrong. It was the kind of activity Jack would definitely not approve of. The kind of thing Adam wouldn't approve of if he were in the Yukon and Jack were here. He shouldn't have done it. He shouldn't have come, and if he had the sense God gave a mongoose, he'd leave right now.

  He knew enough right now to settle the question of Mandy. He knew she was sweet and kind and caring, open and funny. He could still hear her laughter echo in his head as they had rolled down the hill together. If he walked out right now and didn't come back, he'd never forget the sound of it, like musical bells, it had been.

  He stirred the meat and added some herbs. As he worked, his plan clarified in his mind. He would leave tomorrow morning after the guests took off. That would be the logical time to go. So all he had to do was to get through the evening, and tomorrow he could leave with a sense of accomplishment. He'd been able to help her out and, best of all, he'd thrown her together with Jack. Now the only thing standing in their way was the small matter of Jack's
not being a millionaire. And Julie from Illinois. But Julie couldn't compare to Mandy and Mandy didn't need a million dollars to be happy. She only needed someone to love her, to make her feel special, to heal her wounds. Jack could do that. Of course he could.

  He turned down the stove, left the mixture to simmer and went upstairs to change his clothes. Before he left, he tacked a note on Mandy's door with last-minute instructions. The music coming from behind her door was the B52's "Love Shack." He pictured her reading Jack's letter while she listened to the music, while she pictured herself and Jack somewhere in the Yukon in a love shack. He clenched his jaw.

  If he knocked on her door, would she open it, would her blue eyes be dreamy, her mind on Jack? He didn't want to find out.

  He took off for the airport before he did something stupid.

  Mandy sat cross-legged in the middle of her bed. She didn't hear Adam chopping away in the kitchen. She didn't hear him come to the door. Not with the music throbbing. She was reading and rereading Jack's latest letter. It wasn't the same as the other letters. It was more eager, more certain about how he felt about her. He wanted to exchange pictures. Mandy didn't know what to do. She told herself it wasn't important what he looked like.

  At least, it hadn't been important until Adam had arrived and set the standard for what the Yukon man should look like. Maybe she'd be disappointed when she found out Jack didn't look like Adam. A thought that made her feel guilty and shallow for placing so much importance on looks.

  She changed her clothes, read Adam's instructions and then went to the kitchen to toss the salad and heat the rolls. She set up the table in the living room and lit a fire in the fireplace. She was setting out the sherry when the guests pulled up. Opening the front door, she greeted the two couples warmly.

  Adam brushed by her with their suitcases and muttered into her ear as he passed, "The daughter and her husband are vegetarians."

  "Oh, no."

  He shrugged and carried their bags upstairs. Mandy made polite conversation. Meanwhile her brain took an inventory of the kitchen and came up with nothing suitable for vegetarians.

  "Is it true your husband does the cooking?" the older woman asked Mandy.

  "No," she said quickly. "I mean yes, but..."

  "Mandy," Adam said from the staircase, "could I have a word with you in the kitchen?"

  "Of course. If you'll excuse me for a second, just help yourself to some more sherry."

  Once inside the kitchen door, Mandy ran her hands through her hair. "What are we going to do?" she demanded in a stage whisper. "Are you sure they're vegetarians?"

  "Positive, but don't worry about it."

  "Don't worry about it? Why didn't they tell you this on the phone?" She could feel the panic rise in her throat.

  There was a knock on the kitchen door and the younger woman stuck her head in the door.

  "What time is dinner?" she asked.

  Mandy gave Adam a frantic look. "In an hour," he said smoothly.

  "Good, then we'll have time for a nap." And the woman closed the door firmly behind her.

  Mandy collapsed onto the kitchen chair. "What is it about this place that sends people to bed the minute they arrive?"

  Adam leaned against the cabinet and grinned at her. "It’s the atmosphere. Everyone feels it. You've created a love shack."

  She felt a flush creep up her cheeks as she rubbed at a stain on the table. "I shouldn't complain. As long as they pay their bill, what do I care what they do while they're here? But what on earth are we going to feed them, after you've made your delicious beef Stroganoff?" She sniffed the air and then sighed deeply.

  "Omelets?" he asked.

  She shook her head.

  "Salad?"

  "That s all?"

  "And pasta," he suggested.

  Mandy handed him an apron and put one on herself. "Fine."

  They worked steadily for the next hour, shredding lettuce, toasting croutons, grating cheese, boiling noodles, bumping elbows, stepping on each other's toes. Adam muttered instructions, Mandy followed them. When they'd finished, they'd used every pot, every bowl, every utensil in the kitchen. Despite their aprons, they were liberally spotted with globs of cream and butter from head to toe, and the floor looked like the aftermath of a tornado.

  Mandy was just spinning lettuce leaves dry when she heard a loud knocking on the front door and a loud voice call, "Anyone home?"

  Adam looked at Mandy. Mandy let the lettuce spinner slide across the tiled counter. "Another guest?" Adam asked.

  Mandy shook her head.

  "Laurie."

  As if on cue, Laurie burst through the kitchen door in her maroon uniform like a whirling dervish. Setting her small black suitcase down, she opened her arms out wide and yodeled, "I'm ho-ome."

  "Great," Mandy said. "Just in time."

  "What's for din—" she began, and then she noticed Adam. "Is this the...?"

  "This is Adam Gray. Adam, my sister, Laurie."

  Laurie extended her hand. "Adam, it's a pleasure. I've heard so little about you. Are you the one?"

  "From the Yukon," Mandy said.

  "How exciting."

  As they shook hands Mandy noticed Laurie giving Adam a very close examination.

  "Laurie, we're just about to serve dinner," Mandy said.

  "If I'd known, I wouldn't have eaten on the plane. It smells heavenly." She frowned. "But you don't do dinners. And Adam is a guest."

  "Yes, I know, but this was a special request. And I can't afford to turn anyone down."

  Laurie nodded. "I'm going to change. Back in a minute."

  Mandy watched her pick up her bag and leave the kitchen, marveling as she always did at how Laurie could look so perfectly groomed, so well put together, after hours of traipsing up and down the aisle of a 747 and smiling, smiling, smiling.

  When Mandy finished the salad, she carried it into the living room, noticing how much the place suddenly resembled a cozy restaurant, with the fire burning in the fireplace and the candles on the table.

  She almost ran into Adam on her way back to the kitchen as he came through the door with a bottle of Burgundy. She paused to watch him hover over the table much as he'd done the night he'd arrived, when he'd played maitre d' and she was the guest. He was an amazing man, switching identities with the greatest of ease, keeping her amused, entertained, and just a little off balance. And she felt a pang, just for a moment, as she stood there admiring his suave manner, a longing for the dinner in her kitchen with just the two of them, no guests, no sister.

  What was wrong with her? She was full to overflowing with guests and she was longing for the good old days when she was half-empty. The truth was that Adam filled up the place all by himself. With him there she forgot all about guests. And right now she'd almost forgotten about the sauce simmering on the stove and the noodles boiling in the pot. She rushed back to the kitchen to take charge.

  It seemed to take hours for them to serve and for the guests to eat, but when they'd finished, and the well-fed, contented guests had toddled happily up the stairs to bed, Mandy fell onto the sofa and Laurie walked in the front door in blue jeans and a sweatshirt.

  "Where is everybody?" Laurie asked in a loud whisper.

  Mandy, almost too tired to speak, pointed one hand toward the second floor, the other toward the kitchen.

  Laurie nodded and sat next to her sister on the couch. "Good heavens, why didn't you tell me he was God's gift from the Yukon?"

  Mandy smothered a smile. "You didn't ask me."

  Laurie crossed her legs underneath her. "Maybe they all look like that. Even Jack. Maybe it’s the air or the cold weather."

  Mandy leaned her head back against the couch and closed her eyes.

  "What Jack looks like is not important. What is important is that he's honest and faithful." Mandy didn't see Adam come into the living room, but she felt Laurie's sharp dig with her elbow. Her eyes flew open.

  "Sounds like man's best friend," he commented, l
ooking at Mandy.

  "We were talking about a friend of Mandy's," Laurie explained. "Another Yukon man. I don't suppose you know Jack, do you?"

  "We've already been through that," Mandy said. "It’s a big territory."

  "Sounds like a great guy," Adam said, jabbing the log in the fireplace with a poker.

  "He's looking for a wife," Laurie said.

  Mandy shifted uncomfortably. "I don't really think Adam's interested in what Jack is looking for."

  "Not interested," Adam repeated brusquely. "But don't let that stop you. You two go right ahead and discuss him while I clear this mess out of here."

  Mandy jumped to her feet. "No, you sit down while I clean up."

  Laurie untangled her feet from the sofa. "Why don't we all work together and get it done faster?"

  "Laurie, you go to bed. You must be exhausted from serving meals to two hundred people." Mandy wanted to give her sister a nudge in the direction of the door. There was no telling what she'd say. She might tell Adam that Mandy had met Jack through Yukon Man, that Mandy was in love with Jack, or that Mandy was perfect for Adam. But Laurie was determined to stay.

  Before they adjourned to tackle the kitchen, Laurie asked Adam where he was going to sleep. He shrugged and pointed to the couch. Mandy ran her hand through her tangled hair. It didn't seem fair for Adam to cook the dinner, wash the dishes and then sleep on the couch. But what could she do? There was a brief pause while she looked at Laurie, who was looking at Adam, who was looking at Mandy, then they all trooped into the kitchen.

  Mandy washed, Adam dried and Laurie put away. Laurie told stories about the charter flight she'd worked the night before, about spilled drinks, inebriated passengers, and the three of than were soon laughing and talking as if they'd known each other for years.

  When Laurie finally put the last glass away, said goodnight and went to her room, the house was suddenly quiet. The dining table had been returned to its place under the window and Mandy reached into the hall closet for a pillow and a blanket.