Just One Kiss

by Carole Dean

  After their shower, Michael left Nikki combing her hair and went to check the water temperature. Deciding it was perfect, he dropped the towel he’d draped around his lean waist and settled into the frothing water. A hot tub might be a strange place to come to cool down, but that was exactly what he intended to do.

  He took a breath and stretched his arms back across the rim of the tub. He’d barely managed not to seduce her in the shower, and his blood was running like the damn Pamplona bulls. He’d never met a woman who had such a startling effect on his passions. He always considered himself a controlled kind of guy. He’d learned otherwise.

  Thinking about the day they had shared, he smiled. There were no halfway measures with Nikki, he decided. She gave everything her best shot whether it was sports, business, or—as he happily discovered last night—lovemaking. He remembered thinking she was just a sassy teenager that first day on the mountain. He’d been half-right at least.

  He loved her. Hell, he was nuts about her. And he had no doubts, none at all, but he was uncertain of her. Her own words of love were nerve-rackingly reluctant. He sensed her conflict, but was unsure of its root. There was always busywork going on in that head of hers, a sorting and shuffling process that kept him on edge. He frowned when he thought maybe she might never be certain enough to fully admit her love. To commit to him.

  “That’s a strangely worried look for a man who has everything.”

  He hadn’t heard her come in. He looked up and quickly smiled when he saw her standing over him, wrapped in a large towel. Her hair was darkly wet, slicked back severely from her high forehead, and in the misty half-light of the atrium, her skin glowed like warm cream. His eyes wandered over the lean curves of her body and his look turned hungry. He reached out his hand and gave a playful tug on her towel. She smiled and tightened her grip.

  “I don’t have everything,” he said. “Not yet.” A stronger tug and the towel heaped at her feet. “But I’m getting close.”

  Nikki wasted no time getting into the tub. Despite the intimacies they’d shared, she still had moments of uneasiness when he so openly scanned her body. She wasn’t ashamed of it exactly, but she had no idea how it measured up in his eyes. When he looked at her that way, the way he had in the shower, the way he was looking at her now, she found herself wishing she’d been more zealous about her aerobics classes, wishing her breasts were bigger, wishing her waist was smaller—wishing she was perfect. Still, the fire in his gaze told her she hadn’t completely failed the test.

  Nikki settled into the tub directly opposite him. He made no move toward her, content to watch her relax and enjoy the surging water.

  “This is heaven, absolute heaven.” She gave him a languid gaze. “I thank you. My poor body thanks you.”

  “There’s nothing poor about your body. I can attest to that.” He smiled at her then. It was an intense, dusky kind of smile that reached her on a special channel. There was no way in the world she could handle what this man did to her. No way at all. Her eyes locked on his now-serious face and she sighed. She wished again he was anyone other than her boss. Her own expression deepened into a worried frown.

  “I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” he said quietly, totally misreading her mood.

  “You didn’t. It’s just when I think about it, about us, it confuses me,” she answered, then paused. “Maybe even frightens me. I can’t think straight when I’m around you, and if there is one thing I’ve always been able to do it’s think straight. It’s a whole new problem for me.”

  “You still think what’s between us is a problem?”

  “Don’t you?”

  “No. No, I don’t,” he said, firmly. “I think what’s between us is love.”

  “How can you be so sure? Maybe it’s just—”

  “—sex?” he finished for her.

  “Yes.”

  “Because I know. So do you—or will, when you look deep enough.”

  Nikki gave him a strained look. “Maybe I don’t want to. Look deep enough, I mean. It’s not the right time for me to fall in love. There’s my job. I’ve got so much to do, so much to accomplish.”

  Michael had heard enough. He pushed a button on the side of the tub to still the water’s noisy boil, then crossed to Nikki’s side. He took her face between his strong hands and fixed his eyes on her.

  “There’s only one thing you have to do, and that’s decide exactly what’s important to your life, the whole of your life. Decide what comes first, the rest of it will follow. I’m selfish enough to want that place for myself.” He smiled at her then. “You do love me, you know. I consider that a good start.”

  Nikki lifted her arms from the now quiet water and draped them loosely across his broad, wet shoulders. “You make it sound simple,” she sighed. “It’s not simple at all. Loving you is exactly what complicates things. Loving you doesn’t automatically erase my ambitions, Michael. I have plans for my life. Things I need to prove to myself—and others.”

  “Who said anything about erasing them? Your ambition is part of you. A part that I admire and respect. It’s a question of priorities, Nikki, not abandonment.”

  He moved closer and the points of her nipples skimmed the dark hair of his chest. Her hands caressed his shoulders. Willing his own hands to slow service, he moved them to her waist and pulled her closer. One hand stroked upward and cupped her breast.

  She looked into his eyes and gave him her total attention. “Somehow, I don’t think this is the right time to be talking about priorities.”

  He kissed her, long and hard, then moved his head to whisper raggedly in her ear, “I couldn’t agree more.”

  Nikki felt his hands stroking her outer thighs, and with his tantalizing caress came a directional change in her thinking. Her thoughts became as gray and steamy as the warm air above the hot tub.

  Now with his arms around her, his whispering voice in her ear, his dark hair damp in her fingers, she was sinfully happy. She was even happier when, in a bold move, he removed one of her hands from his shoulders and dragged it under the water, pressing it against the fullness of his arousal. She gasped her pleasure.

  One errant thought intruded before Michael’s hands fully worked their magic; a sudden picture of her successful father and brothers. They had such high expectations of her. What would they think if they could see her now, naked, slick as a new born, caressing her boss in a hot tub? She laughed, pressed her smiling mouth to Michael’s wet shoulder.

  If he heard her laugh, he gave not sign. But then he was busy. Very busy.

  And in seconds, so was Nikki.

  ***

  “Coffee, Niks?” Amy asked as she passed Nikki’s open office door. “And how come you’re in so late? Starting to keep executive hours already?”

  “What do you mean, late? It’s only eight-fifteen.”

  “For you, that’s late. You haven’t been in here later than seven-thirty since the Prisma takeover. Busy weekend, maybe? Anything—or anyone—I should know about?” Amy teased innocently.

  Nikki instantly reddened, damning for the millionth time the pale skin that so easily betrayed her. Amy didn’t miss the blush. Just as Nikki steeled herself against what were sure to be probing questions, Christy walked in carrying two mugs of coffee. She took a seat opposite Nikki’s desk and pushed one of the mugs toward her. She was settling in, but if Nikki thought she had a reprieve, she was wrong.

  Christy looked at Nikki, arched a brow. “You’re doing a pretty good imitation of a boiled lobster. What’s up?” Christy’s words were as breezy as usual, but Nikki saw the curiosity in her gaze.

  “Exactly what I was asking,” Amy chimed. “Come on, Niks, fill us in.”

  Nikki felt like a treed cat. “Hey, cut me some slack here, all right? It’s too early to exchange confidences. If I had any. Which I don’t,” she added quickly.

  “Aha!” Christy snorted. “She’s falling back on executive privilege, Amy. Doesn’t think we mere working stiffs will appreciate
the lifestyle of the newly rich and famous. Tell us, Nikki, do general managers really have more fun?”

  Nikki couldn’t help but laugh. She also couldn’t help the increasing redness of her skin. “If you must know, I went skiing.”

  “Yes ...?” Christy and Amy chimed in unison.

  “And I didn’t get home until late. I probably got a little too much sun and wind. Does that satisfy your totally unjustified curiosity?” she said, forcing a smile and preparing to lie if they asked if she was with someone. She didn’t want to; she had to. She could trust Amy, but Christy ...” In minutes the office would be abuzz about her and Michael. Nikki couldn’t allow that. She despised liars, hated lying even more. And she was about to become one.

  Suddenly frustrated and very angry, she didn’t hear Michael come into her office through the adjoining door. The sound of his low, calm voice only added to her discomfort.

  He acknowledged Christy and Amy with a smile, then turned to Nikki.

  “Can you make some sense out of these Kingway production statistics? They came in this morning.” His voice was perfectly level—maddeningly normal. As if this were just any old day at the office. He was holding computer printouts.

  “Sure,” she said. “No problem.” Another lie. She had a major problem and he was standing right in front of her.

  “I hate to break up your meeting.” He raised the printouts and shrugged his shoulders. “But do you mind if I steal Nikki for a moment before Darlene gets here? I’ve got a lot to do before Wednesday.”

  “Can I ask you one quick question, Michael?” Amy asked.

  “Sure.”

  Nikki tuned out of the conversation. He might have rescued her from her curious friends, but his coolness enraged her, not to mention the casual reminder he was leaving Wednesday. Somehow, among all the things they talked about over the weekend, that fact wasn’t discussed. She could have brought it up, she told herself guiltily, but she, like Michael, had avoided it. Which made her as much a romantic fool as he was.

  Despite his words of love, had she truly expected him to change his plans? Not to take that jet leaving day after tomorrow? Obviously some dumb part of her had. More fool her.

  Now it was get-real time, time to admit what an office affair truly was—a pathetic series of sordid morning-afters held together by a string of lies. Stardust and moonbeams? Maybe, but they were quickly banished by the harsh glare of florescent lights.

  She had to face it. She’d been as dumb as a bag of stones, a jackass, and a triple-A fool. She briefly closed her eyes, shook her head. When she opened them Michael was looking at her. But for now, she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. Instead she shuffled papers on her desk.

  Her intentions, when she’d began her charade by inviting Michael out to dinner, now made her want to laugh—and cry. It had been a serious mistake, a major backfire. As a result, now she was hiding from her friends, keeping her dirty little secret. But she had no idea what to do about it. Michael’s voice dragged her from her stew of angry confusion.

  “ ... if you bring me that report, Amy,” he said, “I’ll talk to Darlene about it.”

  “That’d be great,” Amy said and stood. She glanced form Michael to Nikki, then back again, as if now sensing the tension in the room. “C’mon, Christy, let's go.”

  “But we’ll be back, Nikki. So be prepared to tell us all,” Christy teased as she left the room.

  Nikki gave them a weak smile as they left.

  “You okay?” Michael was openly concerned now and when he looked down at her, his gaze softened. “I guess this is difficult for you.”

  “A little.” Nikki’s tone was curt.

  “I’m sorry, but—”

  She cut him off. “Look, don’t worry about it. I’m a big girl. I’ll handle it. After all, it goes with the territory, doesn’t it.”

  He looked genuinely confused. “Territory?”

  “Office nymph. Bimbo. Whatever the current label is.”

  “For God’s sake, Nikki!” He made a move toward her. “You can’t still think that I—”

  He was interrupted midstride by Darlene’s entrance.

  “Good morning, every—” As though hit by the room’s vibrations, she broke off. “Uh, I’ll come back later.” She glanced nervously at her watch. “I’m early anyway. If you two have something you’re working on, I can wait.”

  “No. You’re not too early.” Nikki’s kept her voice coldly even, then raised her eyes to Michael. His own looked shell-shocked. “We were working on something, but it’s done. Over. And I hope to Mr. Dorado’s complete satisfaction.” She looked at Darlene. “He’s all yours. I know he has a lot to do before he leaves.” She fixed what she hoped was a cold gaze to his, and asked, “Wednesday, right?”

  Michael stared at her as if she were a stranger. She stared back, her expression held rigid with purpose. His own face settled into an angry mask, and his tone was brusque when he answered, “That’s right. Wednesday. None too soon for some people, I can see. Come in, Darlene. Let’s get started. We don’t want to take up any more of Nikki’s valuable time.”

  Michael strode to the boardroom and a thoroughly confused Darlene followed.

  ***

  Nikki avoided being alone with Michael all that day. She had to admit he made it easy. He neither sought her out nor made any effort to bridge the uneasy space between them. They continued the pattern of working together that had developed over the past couple of weeks, concentrating their efforts on the day’s agenda. The weekend was erased. If a look or touch threatened to bring it back, Nikki ignored it. She assumed Michael did, too.

  The business of Prisma continued. The romance was over. There was no red rose that day, and if Nikki guessed correctly, there would be none tomorrow. She glanced at the velvet crimson of Friday’s flower. It was already wilted, three of its leaves, curled and dry, lay on her desk, the whisper of its passion spent and silent.

  When Michael asked her to stay later and work on the promotional material for the Belleza products, she declined, claiming a headache. He started to say something, then shrugged and turned back to his work.

  She couldn’t risk being alone with him now, at the end of the day. She might weaken. As the day had gone on, her frustration and anger had begun to dissipate. She still wished the weekend had never happened, but she couldn’t stem the rush of wild emotions that rendered her senseless when she was close to Michael. More than once she jumped away from him when that closeness threatened to bring their bodies in contact.

  It was five o’clock. Nikki finished keying a brief memo, put it in the print queue for tomorrow, and switched off the machine. She leaned back in her chair and rubbed her forehead. Damn it! She was getting a headache. Oh well, she had the whole evening ahead to nurse it. A quick tidy of her desk surface and she was at her office door, donning her coat. She looked back at the door separating her office from the boardroom where she knew Michael was still working.

  It had become routine in the past two weeks, that if Michael was still working when she left, she’d poke her head in and say goodnight. But not tonight—or any other night. She opened her own office door, slipped out, and closed it firmly behind her.

  Michael heard the door close and Nikki’s quick steps past the boardroom. He’d been trying to work. Now he threw down the pen he’d been using, ran both hands through his black hair and stood. He started to pace, then stopped at the window facing the view of the inlet. The lights of Vancouver glittered across its width, but he didn’t see them.

  Damn the woman and damn him for being all kinds of fool. He let out a harsh breath, wishing to hell he could call back the cold, power-giving anger of this morning. All he could feel was frustration. Crushing disappointment—and a raging impotence.

  Had she given him a chance, he’d have asked her to— Abruptly he stopped his pacing.

  To hell with it. He had no use for a woman who didn’t know what she wanted or needed, a woman who couldn’t tell a sordid of
fice tryst from love. And he sure as hell didn’t need an inflexible career woman willing to put love on hold until after her next promotion.

  “Michael?”

  There was something in the voice. He spun around, hoping...

  “Oh. Amy.” He smiled to cover his disappointment.

  “I’m glad you’re still here. Have you got a second?”

  “I’ve got more than a second. Sit down.” He moved back to the chair he’d just left and motioned her to another across the table.

  Amy shook her head at the suggestion of sitting. “I wanted to let you know I heard from Sean today. He’ll be here in a few days.”

  “I’m happy for you—and Sean. You must be excited.” He hoped some enthusiasm came through. A tough order in his current frame of mind.

  “Excited doesn’t begin to describe it. Scared, too, though. It’s been almost two years since we’ve seen each other.” Amy’s gaze drifted from Michael. “I can still see him so clearly in my mind, his blue eyes, the color of his hair, his—” She stopped, suddenly embarrassed. “I guess I sound love struck, huh?”

  “Just a little, but it sounds good. Women wear love well.” Most women, he thought, before continuing, “Like I said, Sean is a lucky man.”

  “Thanks for that.” Amy smiled. “Anyway I just wanted to say thanks—again. It was a lucky day when you decided to buy Kingway.”

  Yeah. Real lucky. Michael felt his face tighten, his heart harden. Lucky for some, but nor him.

  Amy moved toward the door. When she reached it, she turned and looked back at him. He was twisting a pen in his hands with enough force to break it in two.

  He heard her draw in a deep breath as though for courage, before saying, “You shouldn’t give up, you know. Nikki’s worth fighting for.”

  Michael was stunned. Had Nikki talked to Amy about their relationship? He couldn’t believe that.

  “No. I haven’t talked to her,” she assured him, as if reading his mind. “When Niks is in struggle mode, there’s no point in even trying to talk.”