“You should.”
Preston knew the uncomfortable pause that followed meant whatever Nick had to tell him wasn’t good. “Just spit it out,” he said. “What is it you have to say?”
“I had a call from Taralynn Clarke earlier today. There’s going to be a story about you in this week’s edition of my paper.”
“I’m so surprised,” he said dryly. “And what is there to tell about me, courtesy of Taralynn Clarke?”
“Nothing too damaging. Just the drunken, alcoholic slide you’ve taken since she dumped you and broke your heart.”
Preston laughed. “Is that right? Well, I guess it’s true facts really aren’t too important where you’re concerned.”
“Come now, Preston. Don’t be that way. I’m just trying to be polite and give you a heads up, since we used to be family.”
Used to be, being the key phrase. “Fine, Nick. You’ve done your duty and forewarned me. Now let me do my duty and forewarn you that any story containing libelous material will be prosecuted. Oh, and Nick?”
“Yeah?”
“Try and get this one detail right – I’m the one who dumped her.”
Chapter 13
Taralynn pulled her dress off as soon as she was inside her condo and got into the shower. Had that really been her tonight? Having sex in a bar? In a public place? One person with a camera, and she would have been plastered all over the tabloids in a way her father would definitely not appreciate. Rod had brought out the animal in her. She’d had sex with him three times. And they’d only been together for six hours. Apparently, all the stories she’d heard about him were true. A sex machine. Always hard and ready to go.
It had been great sex though. Exhilarating in a way she’d never imagined possible. Something about the forbidden quality of it made it all the more thrilling. They’d made love again in the parking lot of the bar, climbing into the back of seat of his Mercedes, arms and legs flying everywhere. By then she was feeling pretty tipsy. Or maybe just flat out drunk. Tipsy was when they’d first left the dance floor and gone to the couch.
She’d sobered up some during the drive back to her place and the subsequent walk they’d taken on the beach. Then he’d had sex with her again, on the beach outside of her condo. Sand now clung in a fine coating to her skin and hair. She reached for the shampoo, thinking she’d be combing sand out of her hair for days. And thinking of Rod every time she did.
She was going to enjoy this little fling. And a fling was exactly what it was. No question. Obviously, she had no intention of marrying him. He came from a nobody family, and his net worth, according to what he’d told her tonight, had barely cracked a million. To think he’d actually bragged about that. As if she was supposed to be impressed or something. No. Clearly he was only good for sex. Marriage was a thing reserved for someone of Preston’s caliber.
She’d been worried Rod would be too smart to take her marriage bait at first, but he’d bit into it like a starving fish seeing a wiggling worm on a hook. It was almost too easy. The only time she’d had any doubts at all was when that bimbo named Tracy had shown up. At first she’d been worried the woman was someone Rod was involved with, because he rushed over to her as soon as he saw her. But then he’d brushed her off in a matter of minutes, pointing over to where Taralynn sat seated on the sofa. Obviously indicating he was otherwise involved and wanted the woman to leave. Which she did almost immediately. End of story. Probably the bimbo really was some friend of Maggie McKenzie’s, just as Rod had said. Leave it to Maggie to hang out with bimbos. From everything she’d heard about Maggie, the girl enjoyed slumming with the lower classes. What Preston had ever seen in her was a complete mystery.
As soon as Taralynn got the sand scrubbed off her, she got out of the shower, put on her robe and called home. “Daddy,” she greeted. “I have some wonderful news for you.”
“Good, God, girl. It’s the middle of the night.”
Her father sounded tired. And grumpy. “I’m sorry, Daddy. Did I wake you?”
“Of course you did. You know perfectly well I go to bed at nine p.m. sharp every night.”
“Well, Daddy, I said I was sorry.”
He sighed. “Okay, princess. You know I don’t like being woken in the middle of the night. Now what good news have you got? Has Preston decided to marry you after all and give you stock in his company as a wedding gift?”
Taralynn held her breath for a moment. Her father could be so insensitive sometimes. “Unfortunately, Daddy, the situation with Preston remains as hurtful as ever. However, I’ve just made the job of buying his company a little easier for you.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, princess. Tell me you’ve arranged the financing and I’ll die a happy man.”
“Now, Daddy, you know my only area of expertise where money is concerned is how to spend it.”
He coughed. “Yes, well, you’re certainly right about that. So what favor have you done for me?”
Taralynn took a moment to gloat. It wasn’t often she was able to do something that would truly impress her father. “I just put Preston’s attorney in your back pocket, Daddy. Whatever legal strategy he comes up with, it isn’t going to be very effective.”
Instead of the instant praise she’d been expecting, her father was silent at first. Her spirits dropped like her father had just punched a hole in her balloon.
“You’re referring to Rod Skinner?” he asked.
“Well, yes.”
“And how exactly were you able to put Mr. Skinner in my back pocket?”
It suddenly occurred to her that her father probably had heard as much about Rod’s reputation as a womanizer as she had. She’d better lead him off track. “I lied to him, of course, Daddy. You know, let him think there was some ridiculous hope he’d be able to date me someday if he got into my good graces.”
He laughed, and Taralynn knew she’d been successful.
“Not damn likely,” he said. “I don’t suppose you learned anything useful from him, did you?”
“As a matter of fact …” Pride swelled in her as she savored her moment. “ …I have found out Preston’s prime strategy. He plans on getting you to drop your takeover attempt by blackmailing you about your affair with Regina Mance.”
“Well, I, but…”
He flubbered and stammered, and Taralynn had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Her father had never suspected she knew about his sexual romps with the girl next-door. And he’d be hard pressed to admit it, no matter the consequences. She might just as well spare him any further indignity. He was, after all, her own personal Bank of Daddy. “Of course we know that’s not true,” she crooned. “I’m sure Preston’s just hoping you’ll buckle at the first hint of scandal, and I’m sure he thinks just making the accusation will be damaging enough.”
Her father cleared his throat. “Yes, well, you’re right, of course, princess. I’m sure that’s exactly what he thinks.” Then, as if having won her confidence, he turned outraged. “But to think!” he railed. “Spreading such a hideous, vile untruth about a person. Rod probably told you Preston’s plans just to save himself from getting embroiled in a libel and slander suit. Not to mention extortion.”
“Not to worry, Daddy. It’s like you’ve always told me, forewarned is forearmed.”
“That’s right, kitten. You did well tonight.”
Taralynn hung up the phone feeling positively giddy. Her father was actually proud of her. He thought she’d done a good job!
If only she could find another man who loved her the way her father did. He always understood her. He supported her, helped her achieve her goals. Other people were always so negative. So full of the word no. She hadn’t found the man yet who would treat her the way her father did. Sometimes she almost got tired of trying. Almost.
She quickly picked back up the phone. Still one more call to make. Nick sounded just as tired and grumpy when he answered her call as her father had. Didn’t anybody enjoy the nightlife anymore?
> “Taralynn, do you know what time it is? It’s almost one o’clock in the morning.”
“Oh come now, Nick. Don’t tell me you’re an early-to-bed, early-to-rise kind of guy.”
“Now that you mention it, I am.”
“Even so, I think you’ll survive my one phone call.”
He yawned. “One phone call? Why do I find that hard to believe coming from you?”
“You’re probably cynical from all your business dealings in the gossip world.”
He offered a throaty sort of half-chuckle. “Yeah, right. Anyway, I presume you weren’t calling just to get me out of bed. What do you want?”
“I wanted to know if you had any photographs taken to go along with the story you’re doing on Preston.”
He yawned again. “I’ll fax them to you in the morning.”
“Fax them to me? Nick, that is so impersonal.”
“So what do you want me to do, Taralynn? Drive all the way over there in the middle of the night and bring them to you via hand delivery?”
“That is an interesting thought, Nick, but I’m not sure you’ll get any sleep if you do that. As long as you promise to hand deliver the photographs, I’ll wait until the morning.”
“Why am I not surprised? Fine, I’ll see you tomorrow. What time?”
“Why don’t you come by about ten? We’ll have a late breakfast and take a stroll along the beach.”
“Fine. I’ll see you then.”
Taralynn hung up the phone and was about to go to bed when the phone rang. “Hello.”
“Hey, you.”
Rod’s voice was smug and full of self-importance. As intoxicating as she found it to have sex with him, she didn’t want to be bothered by him outside of pumping him for information and copulating. Still, she had to keep him happy for the time being. “Rod, honey, that’s so sweet of you to call and wish me good-night. When does your flight leave for Key West? Are you at the airport?”
“I’ve got a red eye leaving at two. Preston will never even know I left the island.”
“That’s great, sweetie.”
“Yeah. Hey, who’ve you been talking to? I’ve been trying to call you for the last half hour.”
“How sweet of you, Rod. Daddy called. He worries about me when I’m out of town alone. Likes to call and check up on me. Make sure I’m not out too late. That sort of thing.”
“Well, it’s nice of him to keep an eye on you. Anyhow, I just wanted to call and say good-night. I miss you already.”
“I miss you, too, stud muffin.”
Finally, Taralynn thought as she hung up the phone and climbed into bed. It had been one busy day and she was tired.
Chapter 14
In her dream, Maggie laid with Preston on a deserted island. The sun beat down on them in a warm embrace. Waves lapped gently over their bodies, cooling them just enough to withstand the tropical heat. Palm trees swayed ever so slightly in the mild breeze blowing in off the ocean. The breeze carried the salty scent of the ocean and of the trees and honey-smelling flowers. They were naked and Preston kissed her slowly, tracing his finger around her breasts. Maggie sighed in contentment. Even in her dream, she understood the symbolism of how good things could be if he could make her the top priority in his life.
The phone rang, startling her awake. She sat up, her heart pounding. She could see from the clock on her dresser it was just after four-thirty, forty-five minutes after she’d gotten home and climbed into bed.
The phone rang again before she thought to answer it. “Yes?”
“Maggie, hi. It’s Preston.”
Her heart skipped a beat. More impeccable timing would be hard to find. She tried to sound as if he hadn’t just stepped out of her dreams. “It’s a little late for you, isn’t it?”
“A bit. But I needed to talk to you, and I figured being a Saturday night, the bar would be too busy for you to really talk. So I waited until I thought you’d be home. I hope that’s okay.”
“No, that’s fine. Really. I was just getting into bed.”
“Good. Because we have a bit of a problem.”
“You mean a bigger problem than the one we already have?”
“That’s right. I got a call from my ex-brother-in-law earlier today. He was paying me the courtesy of letting me know he’s going to be running a piece of sleaze on me in his next edition.”
“Well, that came about a little quicker than I anticipated.”
“I can’t say I’d anticipated it, though nothing Nick does really surprises me. And it’s a foregone conclusion who’s pulling his strings. Taralynn definitely isn’t one to let any grass grow under her feet.”
Maggie’s heart still pounded from the erotic nature of the dream she’d been having. Hell, who was she trying to kid? Her heart still pounded from the all-too-real kiss he’d given her on what was now yesterday afternoon. A kiss she’d given into much too easily and let continue for far too long. Preston had to know how much he still affected her. Which was exactly why she had to somehow suppress her urge to invite him over at once to plot strategy. And then answer the door in the chemise nightgown she was wearing.
“Maggie, are you still there?”
She jumped. “Oh. Yes. Sorry. Nick’s story. Did he say what it was about?”
“No, but I have a few ideas. Can I come over there and discuss them with you?”
God, he was offering to take the steps toward fulfilling her fantasy. And she had no doubt he’d fulfill the whole thing if she wanted him to. Her pulse raced, and a familiar warmth filled her thighs. It had been so long since they’d been together. And she hadn’t been with anyone since. She wanted to say yes. Almost did say yes. But, fortunately, her judgment caught up to her mouth and she stayed silent.
“Maggie?” he asked again.
“Yes, uh, to tell you the truth, I’m really very tired right now, Preston. I’m not sure my brain power would be at its most helpful.”
“Oh. Right.”
He sounded disappointed. Was it because he wouldn’t be seeing her, or because she wasn’t jumping on his business bandwagon? “Why don’t you come by tomorrow afternoon?” she suggested. “The bar’s closed on Sunday and we’ll have time to talk then. I might have an idea or two.”
“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As soon as she hung up and slid back into bed, she had second and third thoughts. It was pointless to even think them, though. She could never be happy with a booty-call relationship. The minute she let him back into her bed, she’d start wanting it to be more. Start wanting him to give up running Ty-Ken and move to Key West with her. And when he refused, they’d be right back to where they’d parted ways before.
As she tried drifting back to sleep, her mind remained stubbornly fixed on Preston, and the thought of him in bed with her. She remembered the first time they’d been together. Her first time. Her nineteenth birthday. They’d gone out to dinner that night. Her father had walked them both to the door, beaming. Like Warren Tyler, he’d been ecstatic when romance blossomed between them and began talking of ‘uniting the empire.’ It was the only time she could remember him ever taking an interest in her. At the time though, she’d simply been ecstatic at the thought of being with Preston.
She’d been in love with him since the day of her coming out party, when she’d realized all the boys competing for her attention at school were just that – boys. Preston was a man. Knowledgeable. Charming. Sophisticated. And so handsome. She had known since that day no one else would ever compare to him.
He’d waited until she graduated from high school to ask her out, but she’d always known he would. There was something in the way he looked at her, with deference and an admiration that was almost palpable. And he’d been such a gentleman, always opening doors, walking her up to her door at night, taking just one or two kisses and nothing more. He never pressured her, not even on those nights when they’d gone back to his apartment and the kissing and fondling had unmistakably swollen his desire.
A tear slid down Maggie’s cheek and she wished she didn’t still carry that memory. She wished Preston had never come to Key West.
Chapter 15
Thank God for Sundays. It gave Maggie a chance to sleep in, shop, run errands, and on this particular Sunday morning, spend some time thinking about the company she’d spent the last three years forgetting.
Ty-Ken had never been that important to her. Being stuffed inside a corporate bubble wasn’t how she cared to spend the rest of her life. And she’d been quite content for the last three years taking care of her bar and working on her tan.
It was her father’s company, however. And the thought of a barracuda like Andy Clarke and his whiny, snobby, self-centered daughter, who represented everything she detested, taking what was hers, made Maggie ready for a prize fight. Even if she didn’t want the company, she’d be damned if she let the Clarkes walk in and take it away from her.
A knock on the door disturbed her thoughts. Preston. She started to hurry for the door, but then stopped herself and walked. It was bad enough she’d let him kiss her.
He knocked again before she opened the door. “I’m not disturbing you, am I?”
She shook her head. “No. Come in.”
He’d dressed down today, she noted. Instead of the white golf shorts and polo shirt she’d expected to see him in, he wore jean shorts, a blue t-shirt and leather beach sandals. He almost looked as if he were trying to dress to please her. Almost. Maybe if the shorts weren’t designer and the sandals weren’t Birkenstocks. Maybe then. But Preston was Preston. You could take the man out of the corporation, but you couldn’t take the corporation out of the man.
GRATIFICATION (Desire Never Dies) Page 6