by Susan Fox
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M, I sent the e-vite, but I’ve revised it to add venue and it’s attached. Hope you like it.
Terrific news about VanDusen. Maybe Gran will remember that we all used to go there. Hope so. M, it’d be so great if she was “with it” to see you and M get married.
Theresa, how’s that wedding plan? Or has Damien the hottie distracted you?
It kind of irked me to fall into the same old pattern of letting Theresa run everything. Admittedly I’d been kind of irresponsible when I was young, but now I could be as organized and efficient as my big sister when I put my mind to it.
But, realistically, the only way to get along with Theresa was to give her control, and it wasn’t like I could do much from the train anyhow. Part of the special-world quality about trains was that you were semi-isolated from the normal world.
And part was that you got to play fantasy games, like getting it on with a man you’d labeled taboo. Just so long as he pretended to be someone else.
Oh shit, I could lose Internet any moment.
Looking forward to seeing you all soon. Hugs, Kat.
I clicked SEND.
My true feeling was ambivalence. I did love them, and when we managed to relax and stop pushing each other’s buttons we actually had fun together. But an awful lot of button-pushing did tend to happen.
I closed up my computer and sat back, watching the rugged scenery of the Canadian Shield flash by. The rocky outcroppings and numerous lakes must have been a challenge to the people who’d built the railroad, but now the route offered great vistas.
The first group of diners would be eating now. It was time to dress for dinner.
Now that Nav and I had got the rules absolutely straight, the idea of seeing the sexy Dhiraj—and anticipating Kama Sutra sex—made my nerves quiver with excitement.
I opened my carry-on bag. The single sleeping compartments were too tiny to hold a suitcase, so I’d checked my large bag through to Vancouver.
My whole body felt wonderful after the massage and great sex: toned, fit, sexy, almost tingling with physical awareness and anticipation. I’d packed one piece of clothing that perfectly suited my mood: the adorable Simon Chang dress I’d bought in an upscale consignment store last week. It was flowered chiffon with a loose, layered skirt and a scoop-necked top.
I slipped it on over lacy peach lingerie and tried to see my reflection in the vanity mirror.
Respectable, yet the way the dress clung and flowed was flirty and fun. I added dangly earrings, the kind I never wore to work, and then I applied light makeup to accentuate my eyes, cheekbones, and lips. For work, I usually tamed my curls, but tonight I rubbed in gel and scrunched them into a casual, sexy mess.
My shoes were high-heeled sandals, of course. Ones that showed off my pedicure. With the heels and the short skirt, I knew my bare legs were tantalizing. They’d remind Dhiraj of the massage. Of the rest of my body, naked.
Of the way he’d touched me.
His fingers would itch with the need to touch me again, and the whole dinner would be a subtle form of foreplay. It was so much fun getting dressed with a special man in mind.
And anticipating ending up naked together, exploring exotic sexual positions.
I took a light jacket from my bag, folded it over my arm, and was ready to go.
As I made my way through the swaying sleeper cars to the dining car, I wondered if he would already be there. Would he have asked for a table for just the two of us?
In the dining car, I gave the mâitre d’ my name and said I was joining someone.
“Ah yes, Ms. Fallon.” He stepped in front of me, blocking my view of the tables. “There’s, er, perhaps a slight misunderstanding?”
“Misunderstanding?”
His mouth twitched. “Two gentlemen have requested your company.”
“Two?”
“One fair haired and one dark. The fair man asked for a table for two. You’ll see him sitting a few tables down on the right-hand side.”
I craned my head to peer past him and saw Sam Wilbanks talking to a waiter. “Oh, my. We hadn’t arranged to have dinner together.”
“He asked me to invite you to join him. As for the other gentleman, he seemed more, er, confident you would be dining together. He’s sitting farther back, on the left. I’m not sure if you’ll be able to see him, but—”
“It’s all right. I know who he is.”
“Shall I tell the fair one…?”
“It’s all right. I’ll talk to him.”
I stepped past him and walked over to Sam, who stood to welcome me with a dazzling smile. The man really was hot. Under other circumstances, I’d have had fun dining with him.
“Thanks for the invitation, but I’m afraid I already made plans for dinner.”
He gave a rueful smile. “Ah well, can’t blame a guy for trying.”
“I’m flattered.”
“You look wonderful. And that’s truth, not flattery.” The admiration in his eyes seemed genuine and, coming from a man who mingled with movie stars, meant a lot to me.
“Thank you.” When I moved past him, I saw the now-familiar striking brown face, wearing a rather dark look that lightened as I walked away from Sam.
I was surprised to see he hadn’t chosen a table for two, but was sitting across from a couple who looked to be in their late fifties.
As I approached, he sprang to his feet with a pleased smile. “Ah, there you are, Kat.” The accent was Dhiraj’s, and so was his appearance. Tonight he wore a stylish suit. No tie; shirt open at the neck to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of dark skin. He was so damned sexy.
When he held my chair, his fingers brushed the nape of my neck in a secret, intimate caress that made me want to press against him and beg for more. Reminding myself to think of him as Dhiraj, I wondered how soon we could start those Kama Sutra lessons.
To the other couple, he said, “This is Kat Fallon, the woman I mentioned to you. Kat, meet Maggie and Tim Farraday. They’re on an anniversary trip.”
“How lovely.” I smiled at them, her with clear gray eyes and light brown hair, him with a pleasant, open face and thinning gray hair.
“We started our honeymoon on this train,” Maggie said with a smile. “So this was our sentimental idea for celebrating our fortieth anniversary.”
“Fortieth? Wow. You don’t look that old.”
“Thanks.” The woman grinned and looked even younger. “We were children when we married. It was the summer after high school grad.”
“How wonderful when first love proves to be true love,” I said.
A waiter stopped beside our table. “I see you’re all here now. May I take drink orders?”
Tim spoke first. “Dhiraj, you suggested an Ontario pinot noir?”
Dhiraj touched my arm. “We decided to share a bottle. Would you care to join us?”
I agreed and he placed the order. Then we studied our menus.
“Oh, my,” I said. “A person can really gain weight traveling by train.”
Dhiraj glanced at me. “One must look for opportunities for exercise whenever they present themselves.” His tone was neutral, but the sparkle in his eyes said he was thinking of sex.
My pussy throbbed, remembering how he’d felt inside me and anticipating some exotic Kama Sutra positions.
“Such as,” he went on, turning to the Farradays, “getting off at stations for a walk.”
“It’s too bad they don’t have a fitness center on the train,” Maggie said. “You’d think, in this day and age, that they would.”
“Trains date back to a different age, my love,” Tim said. “A time when people enjoyed luxury without guilt.”
“Luxury without guilt,” she repeated. “What a lovely concept. Pity you can’t have luxury without high blood pressure, hardening of the arteries, all those dreadful
things.”
“It’s a three-day trip,” he said. “And our anniversary. Let’s give ourselves permission to be…decadent.”
She gave a startled laugh and her cheeks grew pink. “Decadent?” That cute grin of hers flashed. “Well, if you can’t be decadent on an anniversary train trip, then there’s something wrong with the world.” She took her husband’s hand and squeezed it.
Dhiraj touched me again, this time resting his hand lightly on the back of mine. “We don’t have the excuse of an anniversary, Kat. But it seems to me, if they’re going to be decadent, then we must, too.”
“Hmm.” I kept my mouth straight with some effort and resisted the temptation to turn my hand over and link my fingers with his. “We shouldn’t be spoilsports.”
He chuckled and released my hand. “Good. Now, what appeals to you?”
You. But I focused on the menu. “All right, no salad tonight. I’ll go for the nice rich seafood chowder. And then, mmm…chicken with porcini sage sauce.”
Maggie chose the same things I had; Tim and Dhiraj—who clearly wasn’t vegetarian—went with prime rib; and Dhiraj chose wild mushroom soup instead of the seafood chowder.
A few minutes later we sat back contentedly, orders placed and wineglasses full. Dhiraj took off his jacket, and I saw his tailored shirt actually had cuff links. Heavy gold ones in an Asian design. The international-businessman look suited him.
I tore my gaze from him and lifted my glass to the Farradays. “To Maggie and Tim, and many more glorious years together.” We all clicked glasses and drank.
Tim clasped his wife’s hand. “There were days I didn’t think we’d make it.”
She chuckled. “Like the two months when I ran home to Mama, swearing I’d never speak to you again. Or the time you went on that weekend fishing trip and didn’t come home.”
“Sounds rough,” Dhiraj said. Under the table, his foot slid over to rest against mine.
“No relationship is perfect,” Maggie responded. “Think about the challenges of careers, having kids, aging parents, not to mention just going through all the phases of your own life as you grow from a young adult to a—” she glanced at her husband with a twinkle—“distinctly middle-aged one. There are so many things to worry about, disagree over.”
“But I’d hate to go through it alone,” Tim said.
She nodded. “We’re a team, supporting each other. And even when we argue, the solutions we come up with together are better than either of us would reach on our own.”
“Except,” he teased, “I still think we should have gone to that fishing camp the year you insisted we go to Hawaii.”
She rolled her eyes.
“What’s your secret?” Dhiraj asked. “How did you get through the tough times?”
“Love, of course,” she said promptly. “Even when I could’ve killed Tim, I loved him and knew my life would be horrible without him.”
I’d loved men, too, but my relationships had always foundered.
“Me, too,” Tim said. “But I think there’s more to it. It’s, uh, damn, I’m not so great putting this kind of thing into words.”
“You do fine, sweetie.” His wife patted his hand. “Go on.”
“Love is great, but you have to, uh, hang in there and work things out even when you’re mad. You have to be good friends, not just lovers.”
Hmm. When I’d fallen for men I’d seen them as lovers, potential mates, but we’d never really been friends. I had male friends, too, but I’d never had a sexual relationship with any of them. And I wasn’t going to count Dhiraj, because he didn’t really exist. Or, at least, he wouldn’t after this train trip.
Maggie was nodding in agreement with her husband. “Sometimes you need great sex to get over being mad, and sometimes you need rational, respectful conversation. Life’s full of rough patches, and it takes both love and friendship to weather them together.”
She gazed at her husband with such love in her eyes, a love that his face reflected back, that I went misty. And wished, rather desperately, to find what the other couple shared.
After a long moment, Dhiraj cleared his throat.
I glanced over and saw a tender, almost wistful expression on his face as he said, “No wonder you’ve made it to forty years. The two of you truly deserve your happiness.”
Chapter 13
Nav saw the dreamy expression in Kat’s eyes and knew that she, like he, was wishing for what the other couple had. The difference was, Nav knew he wanted that future with Kat.
The bond between them was growing stronger. Surely if he persisted, she’d come to realize it herself. She would let Dhiraj, Pritam, and Nav all merge together into one man who was best friend, sexy lover, and lifetime love all combined.
Four bowls of soup arrived, and for a few minutes everyone chatted about the food and what fun it was to eat beside a picture window with constantly changing scenery outside. Nav realized how little he’d traveled since he moved to Canada and was grateful to have this opportunity to see more of the country.
Of course the scenery inside the train was even more spectacular than the rocks, trees, and lakes outside the window.
He offered Kat a taste of his mushroom soup. Though he’d have loved to feed her from his spoon, he didn’t want to offend the Farradays, so he decorously passed her his bowl. He did make sure their fingers brushed, and the expression in her eyes told him she remembered the intimate way she and Pritam had fed each other yesterday.
Maggie Farraday might have noticed their silent exchange, because she asked brightly, “Now then, how about you two? Single? Married?”
“Single and hopeful,” Kat said.
“As am I,” he said.
“Isn’t that handy?” the other woman said, flashing her infectious grin. “You’ve just met, you’re both single, you both want to get married. And trains are romantic, right, Tim?”
“So they say,” he said with a grin of his own.
“Well, Kat,” Nav said, touching her arm. “It seems we’re seated with a couple of matchmakers. What do you think of that?”
“I wouldn’t have thought you were the kind of man who needed any help finding women,” she teased.
“Ah, but it’s not women I’m looking for. It’s one woman. The right one.” He lifted his wineglass in a silent toast. She looked so sexy in a light, clingy dress, hair tousled as if she’d just climbed out of bed. Every time he looked at her he remembered making love with her, and he wanted to do it again. In fact, he had the scenario planned, when they got back to his room.
Maggie gazed from one to the other of them. “How about children? Do you want them?”
“Yes.” They said the word together.
Kat’s cheeks were flushed, and she looked a little embarrassed. Personally, he thought the other woman’s matchmaking efforts were fun. When he’d met the Farradays in the Park Car and they’d invited him to join them for dinner, he’d figured Kat would enjoy them—and that perhaps their “happily ever after” glow would rub off.
Maggie chuckled. “Perfect. Now, how about—”
“Sweetheart,” her husband said, “the two of them can take it from here if they want to.”
She made a comical face. “Oh, all right.”
Nav refilled their wineglasses as Kat said to the Farradays, “My turn to ask questions. You have children?”
“Three,” Maggie said. “John, our oldest, is in Zimbabwe with Doctors Without Borders. We’re so proud, but we worry every day.”
“Children weren’t put on this earth to give their parents peace of mind, that’s for sure,” Tim said. “Though our second child, Bronwyn, has given us an easy time.”
“She and her husband own a bakery,” Maggie said. “Not the most lucrative business, but they do all right. And they have a lovely baby girl. Bronwyn’s about your age, Kat.”
“I’m envious,” Kat said.
Nav knew it was true. He reached out to straighten the candle, which was really just an excuse t
o brush her hand.
She gave him a surprised glance, then a smile.
“And then there’s Adam,” Maggie went on. She exchanged glances with her husband and they shook their heads.
“He’s young; he’ll settle down.” But Tim didn’t sound convinced.
“He’s creative, intelligent, generous,” Maggie said. “If only he’d apply all those talents.”
“Sounds like my sister Jenna,” Kat said.
“Is she the youngest, too?” Maggie asked. “I keep worrying we slacked off with Adam. Maybe it’s our fault he’s so unfocused.”
“Unfocused?” Kat gave a wry laugh. “That’s what my parents said about me, and they sure didn’t slack off. If it’s any consolation, I did settle down and find a career I love.”
“That’s reassuring,” Tim said.
“To answer your question,” Kat said, sitting back so the waiter could clear her empty soup bowl. “There were three of us in a row. Theresa, then me, then Jenna, each a year apart. Jenna was the youngest for eight years until, to my parents’ surprise, along came Merilee. I guess our parents did ease off on Jenna. Sometimes she’d act out to get attention and sometimes she’d go her own merry way.”
While she was talking, Nav gestured for the waiter to bring another bottle of wine.
“Just as well she and Adam don’t know each other,” Maggie said. “I hate to think the trouble the two of them would get into.”
“She’s the family free spirit, for sure,” Kat said.
“Does your family do that, too?” Maggie leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Attach labels?”
“Sure. Theresa’s the brainiac. I’m Ms. Sociability.”
“And your youngest sister?”
“Merilee was the baby. Until she met this sweet boy, Matt, in grade two. They became M&M. How about your children? What are their labels?”
“John’s the save-the-world kid,” Tim said as their waiter served their dinners and poured from the fresh bottle of wine. “Bronwyn’s the domestic one. Adam’s our gypsy. Who’s currently in Vietnam. Or maybe Thailand. Backpacking.” He and Maggie exchanged glances.