She took another bite of food, chewed thoughtfully, then said, “I came here because I ran away from a boy who loved me.” She looked at him, waiting for his response. He nodded.
“I was engaged to my high school sweetheart, a student at the local community college, my whole life laid out like an easy game of pick-up sticks, and I ran away from it, from him.” She stood up and walked to the railing. David stayed put. He knew if he followed her he would hold her, kiss her, and then he wouldn’t know why she’d run from home. He needed to know.
She ran her forefinger along the rail and looked out at the pond for a moment before she turned to him and said, “I broke his heart, David, and he didn’t deserve it.”
Her voice sounded small, forlorn, but she looked him square in the eye.
“I’m sure you did the right thing. You must’ve had good reason.”
“I did. He wasn’t my soul mate.”
The words hit David like an axe to heartwood. He sat silently, almost dreading what she might say next. He didn’t even know why he feared her words, but something in his head flashed danger.
“I believe that every person has a partner, a soul mate. Peter wasn’t mine, and I know I wasn’t his. Don’t get me wrong. We were as compatible as hens in a house, but it was friendship, loyalty, trust. It was puppy love and then commitment. It was what was expected.” She paused thoughtfully. “He captained the football team, and I led the cheers. We went to every dance and prom together. We shared family holidays. We’d been together so long, marriage seemed the next logical step, but I couldn’t do it. I had to leave. That’s why I’m here, sort of.”
“Sort of?” He knew he shouldn’t encourage her further, but he said it anyway. She walked back to the table and sat down gracefully, placing her napkin delicately in her lap.
“Well, when I met you at Hal’s. By the way, I never go to bars. I was just there because it was the last week of finals and we had to get out, to shake loose. I went as a, pardon my language, designated cock blocker.”
He spit out his wine, he was so surprised.
“I’m sorry,” she said and rushed to give him her napkin.
As he wiped his face, he couldn’t help but laugh. “I have never heard that phrase, but I assume it means you made sure no one got too drunk or too friendly, right?”
“You got it.” She seemed surprised at his cognizance. “That was my occupation that evening. I don’t drink much, and I can be tough when I need to be.”
“I bet,” David grinned into her now pensive face.
“… but there I was, and there you were. And the way you looked at me, the way I felt . . . It gave me hope. It made me think that somewhere in this world I would find my soul mate.” Sloane looked at him with such open admission, her heart bared, it almost hurt to look at her. This woman wanted a soul mate, and she thought he might be the one.
Ludicrous. He had never even been in love. How could he be anyone’s soul mate? He didn’t even understand the concept. His disbelief must have shown in his eyes because she suddenly looked wilted, like he’d stepped on her story and made fun of it with his silence, with his skeptical glance. He felt like a cad.
“Sloane, when I met you that night, I was blown away, too.” What did he just say? He meant to tell her he doubted her logic, but instead . . .
“I had never met a woman who reeled me in and made me feel good about being caught.”
She gasped, open-mouthed, then shook her finger playfully at him.
“I didn’t reel you in. You did it to me. You stared at me for hours. I had to give you a chance.” She smiled coyly, and his heart raced again. If she kept this up, he was going to have to make love to her just to regain his composure.
Sloane sat with her hands laid flat, palms down on either side of her plate. She said, “Listen, I always say too much. My daddy told me I need to shut the barn door once in a while.”
“I like the way you speak, the things you say. I typically don’t listen as well as I should, but with you it comes easy,” David admitted.
He wanted to keep speaking. He wanted to tell her everything she wanted to know. If he stopped talking now, he would have to carry her upstairs and take that beautiful green dress off her alluring body.
Sloane sat trying to appear relaxed, good natured. She held her palms flat, making sure they didn’t shake like Jell-O. Inside, she was quaking with what she had said. She’d practically announced she believed him to be her soul mate, and he didn’t run away. He didn’t leap over the table and declare her his true love either, but he also refrained from leering at her like the big bad wolf come to dinner. He took a punch well, she decided.
He sat there, and his mouth moved like it had bees inside. She wondered what he was trying to work up the nerve to say. She guessed.
“David, I’m sorry that my accident brought back bad memories about your mom. How old were you when she passed?”
He looked down at his plate, and Sloane could see a tick work its way into his square jaw.
“The last time I saw her I was 11 years old. I was away at boarding school when I found out about the car wreck. I came home for the funeral, but it was closed casket. My dad said the accident was bad, awful, so . . .” He shrugged his shoulders cavalierly, and Sloane’s heart almost broke. She could see the stricken little boy despite the decades that had passed.
“Where’s your dad? Does he work with you at Grant?”
David laughed but it sounded like nails on a chalkboard, grating, derisive.
“He died, too, about five years ago. We were never close. He remarried and divorced a few times over the years, and I attended school then college far away from his various families. I’m his only child, but I had stepbrothers and stepsisters I never knew along the way. Grant Oil is my dad’s real legacy, and I’m still trying to make him proud.”
Resignation shone in his sable eyes, and Sloane wanted to hug him. She stood up and went round the table. She stood behind him and put her hands on his shoulders, so hard, so strong. “You’ve had the weight of the world on these for a long time.” She rubbed them gently, trying to relieve the stress she felt pent within him.
He looked up, over his shoulder at her and said, “Thank you.”
His simple gratitude almost undid her. She wanted to massage every inch of his body, take away all his pain. Sloane wanted to make love to him, to show him how much she already cared. She dropped her hands and returned to her chair.
“So you live in this big, giant mansion all alone? Why?”
“What do you mean, why? I just explained my parents are dead, and I don’t have siblings.”
“Yes, but you’re a handsome, successful man. I would expect you to be married, to have children.” Sloane wanted to bite her own tongue, but David shook his head side to side.
“Never,” he said, and Sloane’s mouth dropped open in disbelief.
“Never happened or never going to happen?” she pressed.
“Both,” he said, and his jaw set.
“Why?” she said, and she could hear the surprise in her voice.
“I’ve never been in love. I tried living with a woman once, but she ran out on me, and I hardly noticed.”
“She wanted your heart and you denied her?” Sloane guessed, and by the way he lifted one shoulder, she understood he didn’t really know.
“I was too busy, too preoccupied with Grant Oil. I spent all my energy turning a million dollar company into an industry giant. Lexi loved the money, the house, the travel—like most women. Loved me? Maybe. But I never loved her.” David’s eyes burned intensely, and Sloane felt like he was telling her he’d never love her.
Sloane couldn’t handle any more. She felt like she might vomit. She rose from her chair and said, “Excuse me. I need to use the powder room.”
“I’ll clear these dishes,” he said, and they both bustled away.
Sloane wet her cheeks and combed her fingers through her hair. She looked in the mirror and told herself to
be strong. She’d put everything out there and so had he.
He didn’t want happily ever after.
Sloane could hear her mother saying, “People only know what they know.” Sloane’s stomach calmed.
Sloane’s mom was always smart about people, about feelings. Sloane wished she had half her mother’s wisdom. David had never seen true love, a happy family, a commitment that lasted. Sloane had. How could he know how wonderful, how utterly possible happily ever after could be? He may have all the money in the world, but without love. . .
Sloane stopped her romantic musings. The man didn’t believe, and belief was Sloane’s foundation. It seemed she’d wasted her time staying in Alaska, trying to find her “mystery man.” Well, she tried.
Sloane exited the bathroom and was surprised to hear voices coming from the terrace. She approached slowly, tentatively, suddenly feeling suspicious.
When she identified the voice, she almost fell over. Dr. Traynor tittered, clearly divinely amused. What was she doing here? Did she have a late date with David? Sloane couldn’t believe the viper had the nerve to show up while Sloane was still visiting.
Everything in Sloane’s body yelled run, but she resisted the urge and compelled herself toward their animated voices.
When she charged onto the deck, she must have surprised them because they stopped talking mid sentence. David said, “Sloane, are you well?”
“Quite,” she said and choked down the scene.
David had his arm around Maya’s tiny waist, and their heads were tilted together, perusing a paper David held in his hands. Maya’s purple silk dress accentuated her dark eyes and showed off her small, perfectly formed breasts. David certainly looked like he was comfortable with his hands on the doctor’s body. Sloane saw crimson, and her heartbeat pounded in her ears.
David gave the paper to Maya, and his arm fell from her waist. He looked at Sloane, and a puzzled expression flashed across his face.
“Maya stopped by to make sure you were okay,” he offered.
“I said I was,” Sloane said tersely.
David’s eyebrows raised and then a smile spread across his face. He must have guessed she was jealous. Sloane wanted to crawl under the table.
Luckily, Tony Forster came onto the terrace and said, “Here she is. Good to see my newest employee is feeling better.” Tony smiled broadly, oblivious to the tension in the air. He carried two beers in brown bottles and walked over and handed one to Maya.
David left Maya’s side and came to Sloane. He slipped his arm around her waist, and said, “Sloane, Maya and Tony stopped by to say hello, to check on you. Nice surprise, isn’t it? They are my dearest friends. I was best man at their wedding.”
“Oh, oh,” Sloane stammered, and David squeezed her reassuringly.
“Sloane took a nice, long nap upstairs, and we recently finished a delicious dinner. I’m doing my best to take excellent care of your patient, Dr. Traynor.”
“So I see,” Maya smiled. “Sloane, you look beautiful this evening.”
“Thank you,” Sloane squeaked. “I didn’t know you and Tony were . . . here,” she finished lamely.
“That’s my fault,” Tony laughed, “Maya wanted me to call first, but I wanted to make sure David didn’t brush us off and try to keep you all to himself. He can be a pretty selfish guy, you know?”
They all laughed, and David took the opportunity to pat Sloane’s rear, scooting her toward the table.
“Tony is a real jokester. I’m sure you two will get along famously,” David teased as he held out her chair.
Sloane sat down, and Maya asked, “How does your head feel, Sloane? Are you still very sore?”
David pulled out the chair closest to Sloane and sat down. He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. “She hasn’t complained once,” he answered for her. “She’s pretty tough.” His eyes twinkled into hers, and Sloane felt the corner of her mouth lift in a wry smile.
“Yes, I am,” she agreed.
“Well then maybe this one can handle your bull,” said Tony.
“Let’s hope so,” concurred Maya as she sipped daintily from her bottle of beer. “David has a terrible track record, but that’s because no one’s been able to put up with his insane work ethic.” Maya’s tone taunted as her dark eyes appraised the way David and Sloane’s fingers twined together.
Tony took the opening and asked, “David, how’s our deal?”
“I took the night off.”
Maya and Tony nearly dropped their beers, and then they shared a look Sloane had seen her mother give her father. The look could mean almost anything, but one thing seemed certain, David had boggled them both.
“Speaking of work, Tony, I need to swing by the hospital and get some files before we head home. We better leave these two love birds to their privacy. Sloane, please continue to rest. Tony gave you the rest of the week off, right?”
She poked her husband in the ribs, and he said, “Whatever you say, my love. Doctor knows best.” Tony rolled his eyes and then gave Maya a quick peck on the cheek. Maya looked adoringly at her husband.
“Let’s go, babe,” she said, and they set their beers on the table.
Sloane and David said nothing. The words “love birds” had probably shocked him as much as they thrilled Sloane.
Tony reached across the table and pumped David’s hand.
“Have a great evening, David. See you soon, Sloane. So glad you’re looking and feeling so well.”
“Bye,” said Sloane, “and thanks so much for the position, Tony. I look forward to returning to Forster soon.” The she added, “And thank you, too, Maya, for your care and understanding.”
Maya looked at her, nodded and winked. Sloane felt a rush of gratitude and relief that her uncharacteristic rudeness toward the doctor had been forgiven.
David waved his goodbye and whispered into the shell of Sloane’s ear, “I absolutely love a jealous woman.”
Chapter 7
What he meant to say was, “Jealousy is a huge turn on.” What he meant to do was kiss Sloane until she begged him for sex. David’s confusion was only surpassed by the tenderness he felt creeping like the long tendrils of Sloane’s hair, into his heart, into his mind. His flesh, his blood, his bones seemed unfamiliar to him. The disconnection to himself only intensified the feeling of connection he was experiencing with Sloane.
“I’m not typically jealous,” Sloane said, and she leaned her ear into his words. “But then I’m not usually replaced with another woman when I leave a date at the table.”
“So this is a date? Good. I dressed up for you and everything.”
“I like your jeans and your T-shirt. Casual looks good on you.”
“It’ll look even better off.”
Sloane laughed, and the sound was music to his ears. David said, “I want you to spend the night with me.”
She sighed heavily and bit her lower lip, before stating, “I’m not a one night stand, and I don’t sleep with a man on a first date.” David could hear resolve in her now husky voice.
“I expected nothing less, even after everything we’ve shared tonight. But certainly, you could stay until morning in the guest room. After all, it’s late, and you could use a good night’s sleep. I promise to keep my distance, no matter how much I want to be with you.”
He pulled her chin around and kissed her lips softly. Sloane wrapped her hands around his head, laced her fingers into his hair and opened her mouth to deepen their kiss. Her tongue tortured his mouth, and a moan escaped her throat and became his own. David’s tongue responded avidly, and groaning, he allowed his hands to caress her strong back, her shoulders, the curve of her generous hips.
Sloane broke away from his kiss and stared into his eyes. The brilliant emerald orbs revealed a growing desire, a dense need. Every ounce of his body throbbed for Sloane.
“Take me to bed, David.”
Sloane leaned heavily against his chest, and David held her there, breathing in and out quickly, u
nsure if she meant her own bed or his.
He said, “Let’s go upstairs.”
She nodded, and David took her hand in his and led her toward the terrace doorway, leading her toward the giant staircase that led to the second floor. Her hand felt like a delicate butterfly, and he didn’t want to let her go, afraid she might fly away from him, that he might lose this intimacy that so surprisingly enveloped him.
When they got to the top of the stairs, he made a rash decision.
“Sloane, I want you to stay here, to feel that you have nothing to fear in my home, in my presence. I am going to go to Grant Oil, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
She looked up at him, regret apparent in her down-turned mouth.
“If you want me to take you home, I will. I want you to know I‘m hoping you’ll stay. I don’t want you to leave.”
“I don’t want you to leave either,” she said and her beautiful mouth shook, as if she might cry.
David understood he could take her to his bed right then, that all her objections could be wiped away by the power of their mutual desire. David knew if he stayed near her one more second he would lose his self-control, would take their longing and dial it to lust. The electricity between them almost overwhelmed him into breaking his resolve. He brought the palm of her hand to his mouth for a moment and then let it drop.
The landing seemed like a mountain plateau, so wide and empty, and as Sloane walked away from him, to her guest room, David longed to traverse the distance, to claim her as his own, to plant his flag and tell her he would never let her go. Instead he turned on his heel and descended the staircase.
He grabbed his car keys from the hall table and walked out the front door, just as the clock struck midnight. He thought a drive might ease the tension collecting in his back. He slung himself into his sleek sports car and turned the engine over. It roared to life, and he flipped on his headlights even though it wasn’t truly dark outside despite the late hour. As he swung the car toward the long driveway, his lights illuminated the mansion’s open front door.
The Billionaire's Bauble Page 6