by Lisa Jackson
Her breath caught in her throat. “Should I take that as some kind of warning?”
A wicked smile twisted the thin line of his lips. “I would never threaten you, Maren…but you might be able to convince me to make promises…”
“That you wouldn’t keep,” she supplied, reading his impassioned thoughts.
His face was so close to hers that she could feel the warmth of his skin. His eyes roved restlessly over her face and his voice became a hoarse whisper. “All I know at this moment is that the only thing I can think about is you and what I would like to do to you.”
The night seemed to close in on her and she swallowed with difficulty. “Those kinds of promises can be dangerous.”
“Only if you let them.” He squinted into the darkness as he surveyed the seductive curve of her lips. He traced the pout with the top of a finger. “Besides, unless I miss my guess, you’re the kind of woman who loves to flirt with danger.”
“You’re wrong,” she denied, aware only of the raw masculinity of his strong features and the power of the hand that held her bound to him. Strong but gentle, coarse but kind…if only she could let him touch her…. She refused. “You’re wrong about me,” she repeated.
“Prove it.” Before she could protest further, he lowered his head and his lips touched hers softly. She gasped and his mouth pressed against hers, hard and demanding, claiming her lips in a kiss that warmed her body and promised to find her spirit. Though she tried to fight it, she felt her body melting against his, becoming alive beneath his persuasive touch. The heat of desire in his body flowed into hers and she yearned for more of the sweetness his touch inspired.
“This is crazy,” she whispered, when finally their lips parted. Her dusky blue eyes were glazed with a hunger, deep and anxious.
“It’s not crazy, it’s right.” He kissed her again, letting her know of the throbbing passion buried within him.
His fingers found the tie of her blouse and tugged slowly on it until it loosened and fell open. Maren’s heart hammered loudly within the confines of her rib cage, her blood pounding incessantly in her eardrums. The silky fabric parted, exposing the soft white skin of her throat and shoulders. Kyle’s lips touched her neck, and his tongue left a dewy impression near her shoulder. Maren felt the warm moisture cool in the night air and she sighed with the consuming need beginning to awaken within her. His lips lowered to her neck and he kissed the delicate hollow of her throat, leaving his moist imprint on her delicate bone structure.
Maren tilted her head, exposing more of her throat to him. Her dark curls touched his neck in an intimate caress known only to lovers. His lips touched her skin and dipped lower, closer to her breasts. Maren swallowed against the bittersweet yearnings and her senses became confused in the once-forgotten passion rising within the deepest core of her. “Don’t,” she managed to whisper when his finger slid a button through the hole. His hand flattened against her chest, feeling the warm skin rising and falling with each shallow breath she managed to take. The only sound in the darkness was the desperate beat of her racing heart.
“You want me,” he whispered as he felt the fluttering irregular cadence.
“Yes,” she admitted.
He groaned and moved closer to her, pressing her into the soft leather cushions. His shaking hand gingerly cupped her breast, rubbing the silky texture of her blouse against her skin, until she thought she would go insane with frustrated longing. She swallowed to moisten her throat and had to force her hand to restrain his wrist. “Please…don’t.”
“You can’t deny it…you want me as much as I want you.”
“I…I haven’t denied anything. But it’s not enough.”
“What is, Maren?” he asked, his lips brushing the silk over her breast. He felt the tautness of her nipple straining against the flimsy fabric and found that he was unable to cope with the frustration burning within him. “What is enough?”
His hot breath against her breast encouraged a thin layer of perspiration to collect between Maren’s shoulder blades. “I don’t know,” she conceded with a sigh.
He clenched his teeth together to stem the tide of desire rising in his body. Reluctantly he pulled his head away from her swollen breast. Without considering her actions, she placed a protective hand over her heart.
Regarding her through half-closed but penetrating eyes, he spoke. His words were punctuated with his uneven breathing. “Sure you do,” he accused, “You’re just not willing to admit it. You said you weren’t ready for a commitment, and I believed you. Hell, we had barely met!” He clenched his fists to fight against the emotional and contradictory feelings battling within his mind. “But you still want something from me, don’t you? You want to hear words of love, whether they have meaning or not.”
Maren bristled. “You’re wrong, Kyle. I’m thirty-three years old, and I’ve learned not to confuse sexual attraction and physical desire with love.”
“Then what is it you want?” he asked raggedly, hoping to understand just a little part of her.
“Time.” She pulled out of his embrace and reached for the handle of the door. “I don’t think it’s an unreasonable request considering the circumstances.” She opened the car door and slid outside. He followed.
A gentle breeze blew through the two stately palm trees that stood near a lone lamppost, forcing the leaves to dance in the air and cast moving shadows in the ethereal gray light. That same soft wind lifted the parted fabric of Maren’s blouse and made it difficult to rebutton. Caught in the moving air, the silk tie and the copper strands of her hair fell away from her neck and throat. Her eyes shimmered in the lamplight, changing from deep indigo to an intriguing shade of silver-blue. She seemed strong and yet vulnerable, innocent and wise; a bewitching creature who turned his head around.
She was still fumbling with the tie when Kyle reached her. He lifted her face with his hands and gently kissed her trembling lips. “Promise me that you’ll see me again,” he coaxed. His fingers slid against her throat and rested upon her shoulders. She wondered what it would be like to be controlled by those persuasive hands.
“I will,” she hesitantly agreed, aware only of his fingers softly tracing her jawline. “We have business—”
“Shh…” He placed his finger against her lips. “Not business. I want to see you again.”
“I don’t know.” Once again her heart was racing. What was it that scared her so?
He wouldn’t be put off. “I want you to come to my home in La Jolla for the weekend. I want to walk on the beach with you. I want to show you where I live. I want to get to know you…all of you.”
“You live alone?” she asked breathlessly. She was afraid of the answer and she prayed for any excuse to avoid the intimacy they had shared this evening. It was much too perilous. She couldn’t afford to fall in love with Kyle Sterling and she realized that it would be easy…too easy.
“My housekeeper is gone on the weekends.”
“But…I thought…don’t you have a daughter?”
His silvery eyes darkened in pain. “My ex-wife has custody.”
“Even on the weekends?”
His jaw tensed and his eyes hardened against the bitter memories. “I don’t see my daughter very often. Holly prefers it that way.”
“I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”
For the first time that evening Maren had some insight into another, more private side of Kyle Sterling. It was a part of his life that was shielded from the press and definitely brought him torment. Maren was surprised to understand that he, too, had suffered at another’s hand. She saw it in the set of his jaw and the shadows under his eyes. All of his money and fame hadn’t bought him happiness. “I…I didn’t mean to pry,” she said, avoiding his gaze.
He dismissed the subject with a frown. “It’s all right.” His fingers pressed more warmly against her shoulders. “Will you see me again?”
She forced back the lump that had swolle
n in her constricted throat. “I don’t know…if I want to get…involved with you,” she replied, attempting to control her ravaged emotions. “There’s a part of you that seems so remote…so untouchable. Not only are you wealthy, but you’re famous…really famous…and you own the company that is the single largest account of Festival Productions. It’s all so overwhelming…” Her voice faded into the night. It wasn’t like her to be indecisive. Kyle was disturbing her equilibrium. She wasn’t thinking rationally.
“I’m a man who just wants to spend some time with a very interesting woman. Can’t you understand that?”
She smiled wistfully. “I suppose so. I just don’t know what to do about it.”
“Trust me.” The words echoed dully in her brain. She’d heard them in the past and they had betrayed her.
“I want to,” she allowed.
“But you can’t?”
She smiled despite the unwanted tears burning in her throat. Had she really come to the point where she could trust no man? “I guess I’m just not a trusting soul.”
His hands slid down her arms and she felt the pressure of his fingers gently holding her wrists. “Because you were hurt by someone else?” His features contorted with anger. Despite the threatening tears, she looked upward at him defiantly. The silvery glow of the streetlamp reflected in the unshed teardrops. She brushed them away with the back of her hand, refusing to cry because of painful memories.
“I don’t think I know you well enough to discuss what has happened to me—anyway, it’s not all that interesting.”
He looked down at her hopelessly. “You’re hiding something from me. What is it?”
“It has nothing to do with you…or your company.”
“To hell with the company. Something’s bothering you.” If only she would open up to him, perhaps he could help. He had the urge to protect her.
“It’s none of your affair,” she replied, her eyes once again dry. “And none of your concern.”
She shook her head against the insistence of his furrowed brow, but the fingers over her wrists tightened. “Tell me,” he demanded.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” His voice was rough.
“Because…because…”
“Because you’re ashamed?”
Blue eyes blazed and she jerked her arms free of his possessive grip. “Because I don’t want you to know everything about me. I don’t want my personal life to become entangled with my business—”
“Another man hurt you!” he accused, refusing to believe her lie. His body had become rigid, his eyes accusing. “A man whom you loved very much!”
“It’s over,” she snapped back. Her entire body was shaking from the ordeal. Why, tonight, was she reminded of Brandon?
“You still love him.” He waited for her denial, silently counting the condemning seconds as they passed. When the silence remained unbroken, he turned on his heel and walked to the car.
Her hands came up to cross over her breasts as if to ward off a sudden chill, but her head remained regally high. She watched him leave and ignored the urge to call out to him and tell him her deepest secrets. Those silent thoughts were better left unspoken.
CHAPTER FOUR
SLEEP WAS ELUSIVE and the night stretched endlessly before her. As she lay in the darkness on her bed, she tried to rest, but painful memories made her restless. Kyle’s image with its dark brooding gray eyes couldn’t be erased. Nor could she forget the warm feel of his fingers when they caressed her skin. Her response to him had surprised her; she had thought her desire had been buried so deeply it would never resurface.
Haunting memories of another man destroyed her warm thoughts of Kyle. Trapped in her mind were painful thoughts of Brandon, a man to whom she was hopelessly bound. She wondered if she would ever be free of him. She doubted it.
The nightmares of Brandon disturbed what little sleep she managed to find. It had been three years since the divorce was final, but she still bore the scars from her passionate but brief marriage. It had ended because Brandon was a man who couldn’t abide the restrictions of a monogamous relationship, and Maren couldn’t bear the torment of wondering who was warming her husband’s bed. She had hoped that the divorce would release her from him. It hadn’t. Theirs was a relationship that couldn’t be broken easily, and even though they both knew it to be a mistake, they had once considered reconciliation.
It had been that weekend at Heavenly Valley that had altered the course of Maren’s life. Brandon was a natural athlete and had been showing off on the slopes, attempting to race down the most dangerous runs at breakneck speeds. Maren’s insides had twisted as she watched him put tougher demands upon his body. He ignored the fact that he was obviously tired and pushed himself to the limit. His last chilling run had ended in tragedy. The fall should have killed him, but it didn’t. Maren had witnessed his loss of control of the skis and the jump that had ended in a body-wrenching dive against the packed snow and ice. Her strangled screams had brought the rescue team to Brandon’s side within minutes. Somehow he had managed to survive, though he only recovered partial use of his legs.
Maren shuddered at the memory and pulled the blankets more tightly around her neck. She could remember the emergency room of the stark hospital and the fear that had gripped her in its cold grasp when she had first understood that Brandon might never walk again. The doctors had been grim, but persistent. If it hadn’t been for a succession of expensive operations, Brandon would still be confined to a wheelchair. As it was, he could now walk painfully with the aid of a brace. In time, the orthopedists were predicting, he could recover, if he could somehow manage to get over the emotional trauma of the accident. Brandon had not only lost his ability to walk in that terrifying leap, he had also lost his career as a tennis pro and his self-esteem as a man.
As the first golden streaks of dawn began to lighten her room, she thought about Kyle’s vicious accusation. Could he have possibly been right? Did some small part of her still love Brandon? Could she still love a man who had thought so little of her while they had been married? She had quit asking herself that question after the divorce had become final, and she had vowed to forget both him and his endless affairs with younger women. But that had been before the skiing accident at Heavenly Valley, and before Brandon had become financially dependent upon her.
She shook her head, turning it slowly against the pillow, hoping to dislodge her unpleasant thoughts. The past was dead and gone. Her love for Brandon had withered years ago, but regardless of the fact that she no longer loved him, she couldn’t turn her back on him; not yet, not while he still needed her. She was the only scrap of family he had, and if she had to imprison herself to give him the emotional security he needed, so be it.
Though it was barely six in the morning, Maren dragged herself out of bed and headed for the shower. Rather than concentrating on problems she couldn’t begin to solve, she would push herself ever deeper into her work. She had to make things work for her, and she had to seriously consider all the ramifications of Kyle Sterling’s offer. Just at the thought of him, she felt a blush rise to her cheeks.
She let the bathrobe slide to the floor and stepped into the hot shower, lounging under the soothing spray. She tried to think of anything other than Brandon and the guilt she carried because of him. How many times had she attempted to convince herself that his accident wasn’t her fault? And how many times was she left with the same condemning conclusion: If it hadn’t been for Maren, Brandon would never have gone to Heavenly Valley. It had been her suggestion that they spend the day on the snow-laden slopes; he had only complied, and in so doing, ruined the rest of his life.
“Stop it!” she told herself fiercely. “You can’t blame yourself!” She plunged her head under the spray and let the water run over her. Her wayward thoughts turned to Kyle Sterling and without realizing it, Maren began to smile. Kyle was such a puzzling man; so unique.
While lathering her shoulders, she reflected on the events
of the previous evening. Despite the fact that it had turned sour, last night had been the single most inspiring evening she had spent in years, and the man she had shared it with was more fascinating than she could have ever guessed. His intrigue was more than the fact that he was a wealthy man with a colorful and famous past. It was his energy, his sensuality, his gentle touch, that had captured her. The quiet sound of his low laughter had entrapped her in its honesty. She knew intuitively that he was a man who didn’t laugh often, and that knowledge made the short time she had spent with him all the more endearing.
She had just reached for a towel when her thoughts turned dark. Kyle had sought her out only because he wanted Festival Productions, and very badly. His primary motive in seeing her was to try and force her into a position to sell Festival to him. There was also the pirating scheme to consider. Kyle had been trying to ferret out information from her, and though he said he was satisfied, he seemed a little uneasy about it. Could he really suspect someone, at Festival, or was he merely being cautious because of the fact that he intended to purchase the company at whatever the cost? She shook her head and water from her hair beaded against the sides of the shower stall. No, if he had really been suspicious, he would never have made the offer. Then again, he hadn’t signed the contracts, had he?
The full impact of her thoughts hit her with the force of a slap in the face. She slumped against the wet tile when she realized that she had left her briefcase, with the contracts, in Kyle’s car. In her fumbling efforts to dissolve the growing intimacy between them, Maren had hurried out of the car with her purse, forgetting the briefcase and the valuable contracts therein. Maren rolled her eyes skyward. This wasn’t like her, not at all. She usually wasn’t a bundle of nerves with a man, nor was she forgetful. But Kyle Sterling wasn’t just any man, and his image continued to play havoc with her reason. If she had indeed left the contracts with him, it wasn’t the end of the world, but it would certainly make her seem irresponsible, and that was the last impression she wanted to leave with Kyle Sterling.