Forever Instinct, The

by Delinsky, Barbara

  She felt tired, so tired. And very, very empty. Things had happened so fast. It seemed hard to believe that a mere twenty-four hours before she’d been so innocent. Willow Enterprises had been hers then.

  Tom had been right. With Alexander Shane’s call, things had changed irrevocably. They would never quite return to the old status quo, Jordanna knew. And facing the loss of her company, she was suddenly less adverse to the thought of a compromise solution.

  For an instant she imagined what would happen if she did lose. The business was her life. She had nothing else. Nothing… but dreams.

  And he hadn’t called.

  Setting her coffee cup on the sill when her hand began to shake, she pressed her fingers to her mouth. Even before all this had happened, she’d felt empty. There was only one man who could fill that emptiness, and he was–

  ‘‘Jordanna?”

  Certain she’d only imagined his voice, she closed her eyes against the sting of tears.

  “Jordanna?”

  This time the voice was closer, very familiar, very dear. And real. Turning sharply, hand still pressed to her mouth, she focused through misty eyes on the man she’d missed so desperately for the past four weeks. She tried to say his name, but her lips only made the movements.

  Patrick walked steadily forward, his heart pounding at the simple sight of her. He felt her anguish, had felt it the instant he’d opened the paper that morning. And suddenly who she was hadn’t mattered, whose wife she’d been, who saw. He’d had to come. He needed to be there for her.

  When he was a hand’s width away, he stopped. He had his needs. But what about hers? What if she didn’t want to see him, particularly at this time? He saw the pain in her eyes, the glimmer of tears. And he thought he’d die if he couldn’t help her.

  The tears welled higher, then began to trickle one by one down her cheeks. He was about to reach out and smooth them away when Jordanna swayed toward him. Then she was in his arms, clinging as tightly to him as he was to her. And the waiting was over.

  “Ahh, angel,” he crooned, hugging her as she wept softly. “Shh. It’s all right. Everything’s going to be all right now.”

  She didn’t argue. She couldn’t. Somehow, in Patrick’s embrace, she believed it for the first time. The conviction was irrational. Emotional. She knew it, but that didn’t matter. Things had indeed taken on a different perspective.

  “Oh, Pat,” she whispered, when at last she was able to speak, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  His arms trembled as he held her tighter. “I’ve been wanting to come. You have no idea how much. But I was afraid. Of so many things. Then, when I saw Widener’s notice this morning, those other things didn’t seem to matter anymore. I love you, Jordanna. I want to be here. I want to help. I know how much Willow Enterprises means to you.”

  But she was shaking her head against his cheek. “I love you too, Pat. I’m glad you’re here. So glad you’re here.”

  He held her face then, brushing at her tears with his thumbs. His gaze adored her, reacquainting itself with each of her features as though it had been years rather than weeks since he’d seen her last. When he kissed her, his lips spoke of the pent-up longing, the anguish that was hers, now theirs.

  He smiled. “You’ve grown.”

  “I’m wearing heels.”

  “And a skirt and silk blouse and makeup.”

  Self-conscious, she ran a finger beneath her eye. “I must be a mess.”

  It was Patrick’s turn to shake his head. “You look beautiful. Very chic and sophisticated. Of course, I still like the way you look totally bare.”

  She smiled for the first time in more than twenty-four hours, and rubbed her forehead against his chin. “You men are all the same. One-track minds, all of you.”

  “No, angel,” he murmured gently. “I love you the way no man ever has or ever will. I’ve been a fool to wait this long to tell you. These past four weeks I’ve been surviving on memory alone. But I need more now. You’re warm and wonderful. The thought of you gives me life. You have no idea how much I admire you.”

  His words brought reality back with a thud. “Oh, Pat,” she whispered, eyes filling again, “what am I going to do?”

  Taking her under his wing, he guided her to the sofa on one side of her office. “You’re going to relax, first of all. You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”

  “It was really only a night. Funny how a takeover attempt can do that to a person.”

  They were sitting on the sofa, knees touching as they faced each other. Patrick took her hands in his.

  “It’s so awful, Pat. I mean, it never occurred to me that we’d run into trouble like this. Hostile offers are for other firms. Not Willow Enterprises. We were doing so well on our own. And I’ve poured so much of my life into this. If it’s taken away, I don’t know what I’ll do!”

  “It won’t be taken away, angel. There are ways to fight.”

  “I know. But it’s hard. And it costs.” Pausing, she looked down. “Were you ever in a car accident, Pat?”

  “A car accident?”

  She raised her eyes. “I had one once. Not long after I got my license. There was a blind intersection. I never saw the car that hit me until well after I came to a stop crunched around a telephone pole.” When Patrick winced, she was quick to assure him. “Oh, no one was hurt. But my car was totaled. There were police and insurance forms to fill out, the inconvenience of being without a car, not to mention the money to shell out for the new car that the insurance didn’t quite cover. I kept thinking that none of it would have happened if I’d been ten seconds faster or slower. I kept wanting to turn back the clock, to replay the scene and have everything bad go away.”

  Her shoulders slumped and she focused on Patrick’s hands, so strong in hers. “I feel that way now, only I don’t know what I could have done differently. A day ago, none of this was happening. Now, suddenly, my business – my sweat and tears – is up for grabs. I want to turn back the clock, but I can’t.”

  “No, you can’t. Life isn’t that way. But you’re not unique in wishing it, angel. It’s a normal feeling for someone in your position. I know. I’ve had any number of friends go through the same thing.”

  “How did they handle it?”

  “The first thing they had to do was to accept the fact that they couldn’t turn back the clock. That accomplished, they sought the best possible solution to the problem.”

  Jordanna took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “The best possible solution. Right now, anything looks pretty bad.”

  “That’s because you’re still at stage one. It takes time.”

  “Just what we haven’t got.”

  “But you’ve got people working on alternatives to a Widener takeover?”

  “Oh, yes. And I’ve contacted most of the major stockholders. We’re sending wires to the rest. The board’s meeting tomorrow morning.” She smiled sadly. “But I’m discouraged.” As she looked at him, she found the respite she needed. “God, you look good.” Freeing a hand from his, she stroked the side of his head. His hair was thick and rich. She dropped her gaze. “Pin-striped suit, crisp white shirt, dashing rep tie and these sprinkles of silver in your hair.”

  “Those are from thinking about you all month. Wondering. Worrying.”

  “Don’t give me that. I saw those strands of gray last month in New Hampshire.”

  “They came from needing you all my life and not knowing who you were.”

  “You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you?” Slipping her arms inside his jacket, she leaned against him. He felt so solid, so strong. When his arms went around her back, she felt very, very safe.

  “I may.”

  At his cautious tone, she tipped her head back. “What does that mean?”

  “It means,” he went on, taking a breath, “that I’d like to help you.”

  “You are helping me. You’re here.”

  “More than that. I’d like to help you fight
Widener.” At her puzzled expression, he continued. “The best way to fight a hostile tender offer is to counter with an offer from a friendly source. I may just be able to provide that source.”

  Jordanna inched back, a frown on her face. “The Houghton Group?”

  “Uh-huh. I’ve got investors just waiting for a good cause. This might be it.”

  “But… but you work with new ventures or businesses that need rebuilding. I didn’t think you were into acquisitions.”

  “There’s not much difference in the mechanics of it all. Just because we haven’t made a name for ourselves in the takeover field doesn’t mean we haven’t dabbled in it. Right off the bat I can think of four major investors who would be interested in forming a group to back Willow Enterprises.”

  “How can you say that? I mean, you didn’t know about any of this until the ad appeared in the paper this morning. You can’t know much about us.”

  Patrick snickered. “Evidently you don’t know much about the ways of boys. When they have their first big crush on a girl, they find out everything about her. Where she lives. What she likes to eat. What her favorite color is. What time she leaves for her piano lessons.”

  “I never took piano lessons,” Jordanna whispered. “And this is a crush?”

  “No, ma’am. No more than I’m still a boy. I’m a man. And in love. Which means that I haven’t spent the past month just staring out a window.” He smiled, a faint red tinge creeping above his collar. “Well, I guess I’ve done my share of that too. But I also did my homework. I read everything I could about Willow Enterprises. Between that and what you’ve told me yourself, I know that it’d be a sound investment, one I could recommend to any number of my clients.”

  She simply stared for a minute, then, dazed, shook her head. “Oh, Pat. I don’t know.…”

  “Have you got another possible suitor?”

  “No. Not yet.”

  “Then why not me… uh, my group?”

  “Because I don’t want to be bought, period!”

  “You may not have much choice.”

  Stricken, she sat back. Alexander Shane had used identical words on the phone yesterday. Coming with such gentleness from Patrick, they had the ring of authenticity rather than spite. “No, I may not,” she stated, sagging against the sofa.

  “Would it be so terrible?”

  “In that I’d lose control of my company, yes.”

  “But that wouldn’t necessarily be the case. What if, between you and me personally, we held a majority of the shares?”

  “I haven’t got that kind of money!”

  “But I do. Or at least I have access to it.” He leaned toward her, propping an arm on the sofa back. “What if we included specific phrases in the contract that would assure your board control of the everyday workings of the company? What if we guaranteed that you would have sole authority over personnel? What if we took measures to assure that no other conglomerate such as Widener could possibly attempt a takeover?”

  She thought about that for a minute. “Sounds idealistic.”

  “It’s not. It can be done. Believe me, Jordanna. I know what I’m talking about.”

  That, too, she thought about. But it was all so sudden. Her mind seemed suddenly crammed to overflowing. “I don’t know, Pat.” She looked away. “There are promises… and there are promises. Fancy legal language can be as deceptive as anything else.”

  For the first time since he’d begun to set forth his proposal, Patrick hesitated. “Jordanna?” His fingers were firm as they turned her face toward him. “Do you trust me?”

  “When you look at me that way, how can I help it?”

  “But do you trust me? I mean, really trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I love you.”

  “And because you know that I love you? That I would never do anything to hurt you?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. She found the urgency of his expression to be as mesmerizing as his words.

  When he stood, reached out and drew her up into his arms, she went eagerly. “Then let me get to work on it. Let me discuss it with my partners and see what I can come up with.”

  “I have to talk with my people too.”

  “Of course you do. It’ll take me a little time to put something together anyway. In the meantime you can tell them what I’ve told you.” He smiled and crushed her against him. “If anyone gets the short end of the stick here, it’s apt to be my investors. I think I’d give you the world if I could. Ahh, Jordanna.” A low growl came from deep in his throat as he buried his face in her hair. “It’s so good to hold you.”

  “And you,” she whispered, wrapping her arms more tightly around his neck. Her lips were waiting when he sought them and opened hungrily for his kiss.

  His hands released her only to slide along her blouse in search of her breasts. He found them full and warm, nipples responding instantly to his touch.

  “Ahh. She wears a bra.”

  “I warned you.”

  “Mmm. I’m supposed to be thinking of putting together the deal of a lifetime and all I can think about is very slowly taking off every bit of this silky stuff from your body. You know what I’d do then?”

  Suddenly and unbelievably high, she laughed. “What?”

  He proceeded to whisper in her ear precisely what he’d do, and she went moist and quivery all over.

  “When?” she countered with such urgent demand that it was Patrick’s turn to laugh.

  “How about tonight? Your place. Around nine?”

  “Mmm. I’d like that. I live on–”

  “I know where you live. A boy’s crush, remember?” He pressed her to him a final time, leaving no doubt as to his very manhood, then, with reluctance, held her away. “Maybe I should pick you up here.”

  “No. I’ll want to change and shower and… make myself presentable.”

  “Now that really is funny,” he said, popping a kiss on the tip of her nose before heading for the door. Halfway there, he stopped, turned, then retraced his steps and swept her into his arms a final time. “I love you, angel. I love you.”

  His kiss echoed the words, to be echoed in turn by Jordanna’s responding lips. It was with great effort that they separated. Pat shook his head as he crossed the room once more. “Lots to do. Lots to do.” Then, without turning, he slammed a fist against a palm and threw his head back. “Wow, do I feel great!”

  The only thing that was missing was a clicking of heels in the air. Jordanna watched him go, a look of loving indulgence on her face. When she was alone once more, she realized that, remarkably, she felt great too.

  AS THE DAY WORE ON, Jordanna’s feeling of euphoria diminished only slightly. Buoyed by the knowledge that Patrick loved her even more than by the chance that he might have a solution for her woes, she felt in control of herself once again.

  The influx of calls from worried brokers began. Though she’d known that the Widener ad would be read by many people, she had dared to hope that it wouldn’t cause an immediate stir. For the most part, the calls she received were positive. There were those, however, that were tentative, others that were downright dubious.

  Between calls she thought of Patrick, and her spirits inevitably rose.

  When she called Tom Cherwin and told him of a potential suitor in the Houghton Group, he was more than pleased. The group was honest and well-respected, he told her quite unnecessarily. Though his analyst had already sniffed out several potential buyers, Tom promised to call him immediately about the Houghton addition.

  With what was left of the day, Jordanna put her thoughts together for the board meeting to be held early the next morning. Several well-placed phone calls gave her valuable information on the Widener Corporation, which she proceeded to organize for presentation at the meeting. Though she had every reason to believe that the board would vote down the merger, she wanted to take no chances. Along with her notes on Widener, she gathered the latest figures on Will
ow Enterprises. After handing the lot to Leila for typing, she returned to her desk to take care of the routine work she’d been neglecting for two days.

  It was well after eight when she finally turned out the lights and left the deserted office behind to begin the healthy twenty-minute walk home. Head high, she welcomed the brisk December breeze. She felt tired but exhilarated, and more excited with each step. It amazed her that Patrick’s reappearance in her life could make such a difference; whether the Houghton Group could indeed come through for her seemed secondary to the fact that, where emptiness had existed before, now there was a rich bouquet of hope. The knot that twisted in her stomach each time she thought of Widener’s bid seemed that much easier to bear.

  Fifth Avenue was alive with lights, made all the more gay by the approach of Christmas. Wrapping her cashmere scarf more tightly around the collar of her coat, Jordanna turned down Seventy-eighth Street with a smile. Regardless of what tomorrow held, she was determined to enjoy tonight to the fullest. He loved her. What a wonderful feeling!

  Taking her front steps at a trot, she let herself into the lobby of the narrow brownstone, snaked her mail from its box, then took the elevator to the fourth floor. Moments later, with steaks removed from the freezer and put in the microwave to defrost, a head of Boston lettuce rinsed and left to drain, and potatoes put on to boil in preparation for an au gratin casserole, she dashed upstairs to quickly shower.

  With the freshest bit of makeup skillfully applied, she slid into a pair of dark velvet pants, a white silk blouse that billowed at the sleeves, and strappy black leather high-heeled sandals. A bright sash of red silk completed the outfit. After sending a brush through her mercifully wash-and-wear hair and spraying her pulse points with cologne compliments of Oscar de la Renta, she raced back to the kitchen to drain the potatoes, slice them and layer them with onions and gruyere. Then she stuck the casserole in the oven while she went to work on the salad. She was in the process of fluting a cucumber when her buzzer rang.

  Nine o’clock on the dot. He was prompt. But then, had she expected otherwise? Had she wanted otherwise? With a smug smile, she wiped her hands on a paper towel and headed for the intercom by the door.