Taking a ragged breath, she reached out to touch the bandanna lying on the counter, the one he had placed around her forehead that first weekend. Crushing the material in her hand, she brought it to her lips to stifle the cry that rose inside.
What had she done to deserve such pain? To lose the man she loved, not once, but twice. Unfairness gripped her, paralyzed her. Sheer will alone forced her to show up in court each day, shutting him out, focusing only on the case. Knowing she was shell-shocked, she knew she wasn't performing up to caliber. But Kenneth wasn't, either.
Correction, Billy.
Thousands of questions chased around to torment her. The how, the why. Who was he really?
It struck her suddenly that she had never called him Kenneth. Had she somehow known all along that he was Billy, not Kenneth?
Dismissing the notion, she pressed her fingers to the nagging pain that centered in her forehead. Of course she hadn't known.
Had she?
* * *
Barbara collected her briefcase, stuffing some last-minute papers inside, those stored in a folder that rested in the front seat of her car. To her surprise, her client had broached the idea of settlement yesterday.
Just days before he'd been vehemently set against anything but a full-fledged court battle. She had seen the two cookie giants engaged in corridor talk, but she hadn't possessed the courage to join in the discussions with Kenneth standing close between the men.
Considering how close she could be to botching the case, it would be a relief to have a settlement. Not to mention ending the torment of seeing Kenneth each day. Even though she successfully managed the appearance of ignoring him, she was aware of every nuance, every movement, every word he spoke.
Slamming the car door behind her, she forced herself to move forward. She dreaded facing Kenneth over the conference table. She preferred speaking to the judge, her client, anyone but the man who had crushed her heart, stolen her last glimmer of hope.
Purposely straightening her shoulders, she refused to let any of those feelings show as she strode confidently down the corridor, hesitating only as she reached the conference room. Despite her pose, inside she was staggering. Pushing open the door, she glanced quickly around the room.
And met three pairs of male eyes. Her client, Pete Delight, watched her carefully. As did his opponent, Alexander Matthews, chairman of the Bakewell Corporation.
But it was Kenneth's expression that caught and arrested her attention. It took all of her concentration to ignore him.
Plunking her briefcase on the table, she drew a deep breath and forced her voice to be cool and dispassionate.
"Gentlemen, I hope I didn't keep you waiting. I have the latest draft of the proposal we discussed."
Pete Delight patted the chair beside him and she took a seat.
"I think the terms are going to change considerably," Mr. Delight spoke as he pointed to Alexander Matthews. "This old reprobate seems ready to settle without fighting every issue tooth and nail. Never thought I'd see it in my lifetime."
"Never thought you'd admit to stealing my girl," Matthews retorted, but without malice this time.
Kenneth intervened. "When Lila – Mrs. Delight – had dinner with the gentlemen last night, she explained that her choice in suitors hadn't been swayed by Pete, but by her father. Seems he was the one encouraging Mr. Matthews's attention. Her father thought Alexander could get her to settle her flighty ways."
Barbara raised surprised eyebrows at all three men, even though she knew their history. The two men had once battled for the attentions of the same woman, the woman who had chosen Pete Delight over Alexander Matthews.
However, the prior evening Mr. Matthews admitted that he hadn't exactly pined away for Pete's wife, but that he'd felt tricked by his old friend and business competitor, Pete Delight.
Having reached a truce, they all seemed ready to settle the past. Now it was simply a matter of ironing out contract violations and future negotiations.
Barbara was stunned. She'd expected the negotiations to drag on for weeks, and certainly not on this amicable level. Narrowing her eyes, she wondered what Kenneth was up to. Knowing she would have to examine every word, every phrase in the documents, she kept her thoughts to herself for the moment. If he'd pulled anything funny, she'd find out soon enough.
As the meeting continued, Kenneth wondered if the settlement would thaw Barbara at all. She seemed determined to ignore him. But he was equally determined to break through those barriers. He'd labored over the settlement, hoping it would pave the way with Barbara.
As Pete Delight and Alexander Matthews slapped each other on the back and called each other ornery horse thieves and other terms of endearment, Kenneth slipped over to Barbara's side. But he didn't see an inch of softening there.
Her expression was chilly, dismissive as she clicked the locks on her briefcase. "I'll fax you a revised draft."
"Barbara, I—"
"I'll have Dani contact you if there are any questions." Spinning on her heel, she exited the room.
Staring after her, Kenneth knew it was time for drastic measures, and setting his jaw, he determined to take them.
* * *
Barbara finally admitted the fatigue that had been eating away at her. Lack of sleep, forgetting to eat, a heart so heavy it continued to drag her down like the anchor of a battleship, all had combined to shred her defenses.
Leaving her office late, she'd brought home a briefcase full of papers. Hoping to lose herself in work, she'd jammed case files and notes in the portfolio with a vengeance. But she suspected even that couldn't distract her.
Twilight descended on the tree-lined avenue, showing promise of the crescent moon that battled with wispy mists of clouds. It was an evening for dreams, for lovers. Barbara choked back the thought as she locked her car and stepped onto the sidewalk.
The shadows seemed to merge. Suddenly one rose and blocked her path. Looking up, she gaped at Kenneth. She tried to push past him when he grabbed her arm.
"I've been trying to reach you, Barbara. The settlement's in jeopardy."
His words penetrated and she stared at him stupidly. "But what happened? When we left yesterday—"
Holding her elbow, he guided her to his car, ushering her inside. "I thought it was all settled, too. But those hardheads are threatening to blow everything apart."
She searched her tired brain while trying to insulate herself against his presence. "Where are we going?"
He had pulled out into traffic. "To the scene of the crime, as they say."
She stared at him blankly. "What?"
He accelerated, moving toward the entrance to the freeway. "Pete and Alexander are planning to duke it out in Las Vegas where Pete and Lila eloped. If we can reach them in time, we can prevent the entire deal from collapsing."
Barbara clutched the door handle, trying not to let the woodsy smell of Kenneth's aftershave or the distinctly male scent that was his alone penetrate her numbed senses.
His presence overwhelmed the car, diminished the space inside. Drawing herself up, she used her other hand to clench her briefcase, feeling as though it were the last sane lifeline to an otherwise insane situation.
"Isn't it a long drive to Vegas?" she asked, as they entered the freeway.
"Too long," he replied briefly. "I've chartered a plane."
"What? You assumed I'd be willing to get on an airplane with you?"
He clenched his jaw, a small tick betraying him. "Would you prefer a long drive with me? Six or seven hours from now would put us getting into town past the witching hour."
She stiffened immediately. "I would prefer to keep the time we're forced to be together as short as possible."
He winced, then shrugged. "Then the airplane it is."
She fumed silently. If she hadn't been so tired when he'd approached, she'd have had the sense to get into her own car instead of being trapped in this narrow space with him. Still, she couldn't give up the last word. "I w
ant to make myself perfectly clear. The only reason I'm going with you is for the sake of my client. Otherwise—"
"I'd just as soon not know in detail exactly how you'd like to dismember me, Counselor. Might ruin my appetite, and I've ordered an excellent dinner."
She snorted indelicately.
He shrugged again. "Suit yourself. Since it's a charter flight, the food will be decent. I'm not planning to starve myself."
Of course not. She'd hate for him to be inconvenienced, to feel a shred of discomfort. Forget the pain she'd felt.
Her raw hurt was giving way to the need to strike back.
Remaining stiffly upright, she tried to melt into the car door as they continued the ride in silence. It didn't take long to reach the airport. Even less time to find their plane.
Stepping outside, she didn't wait for him to open her door. Instead, she moved forward on the tarmac, relishing the crunch of the gravel on the blacktop beneath her shoes, reconnecting her with normality.
Rubbing her elbows, she savored the brisk evening air, the cool tang against her cheeks. She credited a sting of tears to the wind that swept across the runway.
Dashing her hand quickly to her face, she steadied herself. After all, it was only one evening. A short plane ride to settle the case. Then he was gone. Out of her life.
Forever.
Why did that make her feel so bleak, rather than relieved?
She reached for anger, but found only regret.
Turning toward the plane, she took a step forward. Something bright and shiny caught her eye. Automatically she bent to pick it up, a penny so dazzling and gleaming, it appeared to be polished. Closing her eyes, she squandered her wish.
Hadn't she done nearly the same thing earlier? Wished for her life back with Billy? Only, this time, she added that she wished it could have worked. Somehow.
It was hopeless, she knew. Still she slipped the coin into her pocket before walking forward to board the plane. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she imagined how it might have felt if this trip had been taken before she'd discovered the truth. Before his admission destroyed their budding relationship.
Watching Kenneth speak to the pilot, his casual assurance, the confidence that cloaked him, she resented that easy aplomb. She wanted him to appear wounded, painted with the pain that bubbled inside her. And searching, she greedily latched back on to her anger.
Holding her wrath tight and fast, she took her seat as Kenneth rejoined her, refusing to meet his eyes. Her fury was justified, she knew. Because he'd made her believe. She could have forgiven nearly anything else. But not that.
She averted her head, glancing out the window at the lights on the runway that sped by, blurring as the plane gained speed. The growing noise of the engines signaled the whoosh of power as the plane lifted into the sky.
The last light clinging to that sky quickly gave way to an encompassing darkness, seeming to shroud them in a closed, intimate space. Barbara would have preferred a commercial flight, one crammed with people. She wouldn't have minded crying babies, cranky toddlers or boring businessmen. Anything but an empty cabin she shared only with Kenneth.
She considered reaching for her briefcase, pretending to bury herself in a tall stack of legal briefs, but she refused to show her disquiet. Instead she concentrated on her anger, keeping it alive to fuel her indignation rather than her pain.
The plane sped westward, leaving Salt Lake City far behind.
Glancing up, Barbara saw an older man approaching with a drink tray. She suspected he was the copilot rather than a steward and she pursed herself to refuse the drink. As he neared, she saw a kind smile and crumbled a fraction inside.
Unable to appear rude, she took the offered glass and mumbled her thanks.
"Would you care for a snack?" the man asked, still sounding kind.
Numbly she shook her head, knowing food would nauseate her.
"It's been a long time since lunch," Kenneth reminded her quietly as he took the wine bottle from the other man.
"This will be over soon enough," she replied cryptically, praying it would in fact be over before her control dissolved.
"More wine?" Kenneth asked, filling her glass before she could respond.
"Still making decisions for others without hearing their answers, I see." Swirling the wine in her glass, she grasped the fragile stem so firmly her fingers whitened.
"Would it have made a difference?" he asked, knowing neither of them spoke of the wine.
She set her jaw. "I guess you'll never know, will you?"
"And that was my mistake," he admitted freely.
Refusing to meet the entreaty in his eyes, she shifted away to stare blankly out the window. "I don't have anything more to say."
Head averted, she didn't see the struggle on his face before he complied with her request.
Fighting relentless waves of pain, she kept her stiff position intact until the plane began its landing preparations. Automatically she unbuckled her seat belt. The flight had been longer than she'd expected. But perhaps that was because she'd been so intensely aware of every moment.
Deplaning, Barbara glanced around, expecting to see the low deserts of Nevada. Disoriented, she looked again. Then, halting, stared at the sweep of ocean, the cradle of mountains. Infuriated, she whirled around, meeting Kenneth nearly nose to nose. "What's the idea, Gerrard? I'm no navigational whiz, but even I can tell this isn't Vegas."
"We're at the Monterey Peninsula Airport," he answered with ease. He lifted one hand and pointed. "Carmel's over there."
Fury strengthened her voice, flattened her pain. "What the hell are we doing here instead of Vegas?"
"I guess you'd call it a tactical maneuver."
She considered launching herself at him and giving in to the urge to pummel him. "A what?"
"You wouldn't let me come to you." He gestured with a wide sweep of his arms. "So I've brought you to me."
"There's no glitch in the settlement," she accused, hot with anger. "You made that all up just to get me here."
"It worked," he replied evenly.
"Not for long," she retorted. Stomping away from him, she looked for an office, a hanger, anything that would get here out of this airport, back home and away from Kenneth. The torment of seeing him had reached inescapable proportions. She had to stop it now. Spotting the ticket counter, she sped toward it.
But her relief quickly turned to frustration.
The helpful woman behind the counter smiled sympathetically, but firmly. "Yes, ma'am. I'm sure there isn't another flight out to Salt Lake City tonight. However, we have several flights early tomorrow."
"There must be something," Barbara muttered, unwilling to give up, knowing she couldn't spend another secluded minute with Kenneth.
The woman's smile was patient. No doubt she'd been through the same drill thousands of times. "Would you like a brochure of the local hotels?"
Accepting the slick paper, Barbara barely contained a groan. She wanted away from Kenneth's home turf. Far away.
Gripping her briefcase tightly, she scanned the lot for a cab. Instead, Kenneth cruised up in a late-model Rover.
Quickly exiting the car, he skirted the hood, then opened the passenger door. "At least let me drive you."
"I'll take a cab," she forced out between stiff lips. They both knew he'd won the first round. She couldn't get back to Salt Lake tonight, but she didn't have to see him anymore. She simply wanted an anonymous driver to whisk her away, make her escape good.
He glanced helpfully up and down the length of the drive. "No cabs."
She started to protest, then remembered how sure she'd been that she could get a flight. Rather than look any more foolish, she got into his car, ramrod straight, staring ahead without looking at him.
He didn't wait for any further confirmation, instead closed the door for her and quickly got back into the car. The practical Rover sped into the darkness as she pulled out the brochure on local hotels.
"Ple
ase drop me at the La Playa Hotel," she stated with frigid politeness.
"Hmm," he replied, selecting a CD and putting it in the player.
Unexpectedly, rock music filled the vehicle, startling her. She'd expected something soft and romantic, something he thought might set the mood. Instead, the music was hot and fast.
It was music designed to make the blood heat, then thrum rapidly, like electricity through molten wires.
The comparison struck her as she slanted a glance at Kenneth. Gone was his complacent easiness, replaced by smoldering intensity.
The road he took veered off the main street, seeming to lead away from the cluster of lights in the city. They were climbing. She wondered about the hotel being so remotely located, opened her mouth to question him, then closed it as quickly. It didn't matter to her what route they took to the hotel. The less she had to talk to him, the better.
Cannel Valley opened up in front of them like a dark, magical jewel. Barbara could see towering groves of ancient redwoods outlined in a silver bath of moonlight flanking the curving road. The rise of the mountains surrounded the valley, nestling it securely.
Kenneth turned on an unmarked road. No lights encroached on the gathering darkness. Remote, unapproachable, it didn't look like the road to a hotel. She had picked a practical hotel in the heart of Carmel. Not one that should resemble a hidden resort.
Suspicion bloomed like the night-flowering evening primrose that dotted the hills.
Her voice was flat. "Where are we going, Gerrard?"
He pulled into a driveway that swerved upward sharply. "Here."
Here was a multilevel house that straddled the hill, taking advantage of its natural diversity to create an architectural delight. But Barbara was anything but delighted. Her eyes swept over the redwood-and-stone exterior, the seeming acres of glass windows that no doubt were lit during the day by plentiful sunshine, the wild rush of garden that could be seen in the floodlights flanking the house.
"This isn't my hotel, Gerrard."
"No." His voice was heavy, filled with emotion. "It isn't."
"I'm not going inside." Resolutely she stared at the house, the car door, anything but him.
WHEN A MAN LOVES A WOMAN Page 16