Just One Kiss

by Carole Dean

“Struggle mode?” he repeated. As he said it, he thought how apt a phrase it was.

  “That’s what I call it when she’s trying to make a decision or change something. She thinks she’s one cool lady, but she’s not, you know. She’s an open book. The

  Chapters might be out of order, and part of it’s written in ancient Greek, but everything’s there if you know how to read it.”

  Michael couldn’t bring himself to discuss his relationship with Nikki, but he didn’t stop Amy when she went on.

  “For one thing she gets terribly fixated. I’ve never seen anyone so single-minded about setting and working toward goals. From what she tells me, it’s something her father taught her. She’s so determined at times, it’s downright scary.” Amy crossed her arms, frowned. “I guess that’s good as far as it goes, but Nikki gets really wonky when someone drops a monkey wrench into her plans, or she has to adjust course. She has trouble being flexible, if you know what I’m trying to say.” Amy looked at Michael, nervously tilted her head as if seeking his understanding.

  He managed the barest of nods, sensed that Amy was not finding this conversation easy.

  She took a breath and went on, “It’s like she has set ideas about how things should be, and when there’s an unexpected change she—I don’t know—overreacts is as good a description as any, I guess. It just takes longer for her to adjust. You need a lot of patience or ... you hit her over the head with a hammer.” Amy laughed. “Sometimes that does the trick.” The laugh vanished as quickly as it came. “You know, Michael, Nikki would kill me if she knew I was talking to you.”

  “I’m guessing you have your reasons,” he said, still a little murky as to what those reasons were.

  “Yeah, I do, but I doubt Nikki would approve of them.” She straightened away from the door, turned to go, then turned back. “Look, what I really want to say is, just don’t give up on her, Michael. Try the hammer!” With that she was gone.

  In the quiet, he thought about what Amy had said, and a dim light fell across his confusion. He’d thought he understood Nikki, but had he in fact misjudged how strongly focused she could be?

  And wasn’t he much the same way?

  Like her, he hated to alter a course once it was set upon. To do so took a conscious effort and always left a residue of guilt as if he’d failed somehow even when the new direction proved to be the better one. It was as though by switching direction he was untrue to himself. Was that how Nikki saw it? Did she see love as some kind of dangerous detour?

  Michael rose from his chair, started to pace again. Don’t give up, Amy had said. He frowned. He wasn’t sure his battered ego was up to another risk. He took a deep breath and for a moment closed his eyes. Nikki’s face was before him, every delicate feature etched against his eyelids.

  “Kiss me, Michael, I’m asking you to kiss me.” Her whisper floated to his ear. He started to burn, and his eyelids jerked open.

  Hadn’t old Coogan always told him, “Don’t stop until it’s over, boyo, and only you will know that moment”? Well, what was between him and Nikki sure as hell wasn’t over. He shrugged into his jacket. He had to try again … but only once more.

  He had patience—just not of the endless variety.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Nikki was wrecked. She kept telling herself she was doing the right thing, but she was wrecked anyway. She hadn’t slept last night, or the night before. Gruesome words came to mind. The nights were killing her and the mornings were murder. When she thought about it, she realized she hadn’t slept properly since meeting Michael. But that problem would soon be solved. Today, to be exact. The thought of it caused violence in her stomach. Deep in her stomach.

  It was Wednesday and he was leaving. Nikki looked again at the memo on her desk. It was from Darlene, reminding her—as if she needed reminding—about his flight plans. His plane was departing Vancouver International at 4:00 p.m. There was a request for reports and data he would need for the Prisma directors in Madrid. Would Nikki make sure he had everything? The memo brought a smile to her lips. The ever-organized Darlene. She’d come to have a solid respect for her these past weeks, and an odd but growing affection. You never know when you’ll make a friend, she thought idly, trying to steer her thoughts away from the man in the next office.

  She slumped back in her chair and looked at the tiny crystal clock on her desk, seven twenty-five. Plenty of time to gather the necessary information. She switched on her terminal and did a quick search for the sales figures Darlene had asked for. When she found the file she was looking for, she retrieved it to her screen and prepared to coax the numbers into a solid, useful format. The mass of digits refused to register, and she sat staring blankly at the blink, blink, blink of the cursor. Unable to make sense of it, she pushed her chair back.

  Coffee. She needed coffee. She pointed herself in the direction of the coffee room.

  She couldn’t make sense of her thoughts, either. Like the images on her screen, they were at once familiar and alien. At least the numbers on her screen were in neat little rows. Not so her tangled thoughts. They were helter-skelter, beyond interpretation. And Michael? Michael was the cursor, a constant flashing light. She hadn’t the willpower to ignore him.

  She got her coffee and returned to her desk. On her way, she passed Amy without acknowledgment, ignored her puzzled look. Michael was leaving today. She wouldn’t see him for months. Perhaps never again—if he replaced himself by hiring a new president. Never see him again? That was what she wanted, wasn’t it?

  Nikki sat back in her chair, feeling slightly ill. Never see Michael again? She tried desperately to accept the idea, to adjust to a newer, colder world. A thousand times in the last two days she’d reached for the phone. A thousand times she’d stayed her hand. Michael had given her no opening, steadfastly maintaining his steely, unconcerned composure, a stance that fed all her insecurities. She told herself he was probably glad it was over, that his coldness only confirmed that all he’d wanted was a convenient bed partner.

  When she remembered his words of love, she fought them. He hadn’t meant any of them. When she remembered his body, his hands moving over her, touching her where she’d never been touched, she blazed with unbearable fierceness—and her very soul ached.

  “Definitely struggle mode,” Amy said, standing in the doorway.

  Nikki’s eyes fluttered to a reasonable facsimile of sanity and she looked up. “What?”

  “Forget it. Here’s that copy of your Whistler presentation you asked for. What do you want it for anyway?”

  “I don’t want it. Michael does. Darlene says he wants it for reference. He leaves today, you know.” Nikki worked to keep her voice normal.

  “I know. So does everyone else in the office. It’s not exactly top secret.” Amy’s voice was flat, impatient. “The question is, what are you going to do about it?” She leveled her gaze on Nikki, her words a dare.

  “Me? Do? What should I do?” As an exercise at studied nonchalance, Nikki figured she’d passed.

  “I wish I could tell you. If you haven’t decided yourself by now, I guess it’s bye-bye love.” Amy started out the door, but not before one final pronouncement. “You know, Nicole Johnson, there are times when you’re the biggest jerk I know.”

  Nikki put her head back and let out a sigh. Amy was right, she was a jerk, but there didn’t seem to be a damn thing she could do about. She thought again about the crisp, confident Michael Dorado she had worked with the last two days—the new, improved, totally unapproachable Michael.

  He wanted nothing more to do with her, she was sure of it. After all, what man wanted a woman who blew hot one minute and cold the next. How could she expect him to understand? Her blessed career! She’d fretted about it as if it were a cause that would save the planet. Sure her work was important to her, it always would be, but not nearly as important as ... Michael.

  God, she was going to cry.

  Nikki blew her nose, drank some tepid coffee, and dragged her
self back to control. Work, Nikki. Do some work. If it doesn’t take the pain away, you know you’re in trouble. She turned back to her computer. In fits and starts, she managed to get a few things done. An hour or so later, Darlene showed up.

  “Nikki, I wanted to let you know Michael won’t be in today. He had a couple of meetings this morning, and he’s decided to go straight to the airport from the last one. He specifically wanted me to give you his respects and gratitude for all your good work. He said you made his stay in Vancouver a most productive one.” She smiled warmly.

  Nikki gaped at her, stunned and disbelieving.

  “Is something wrong?” Darlene’s smile gave way to a worried glance.

  Nikki tried for her voice but only managed a muffled stammer.

  “Nikki?” It was the first time Darlene had used her nickname. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she croaked.

  “You’re sure now?” Darlene didn’t seem to believe her.

  “Very sure. I was concentrating so hard on the computer screen I didn’t hear you.” He’s gone! something inside screamed. He’s gone. She couldn’t believe it. She was surprised at the sound of her own voice when she spoke again. “I thought he wanted this information to take with him. I was trying to finish it.”

  “He does. He wants me to bring it to the airport at two o’clock. Will that work for you?”

  “Fine.” Go, Darlene, please go. I want to scream and I can’t scream with you in front of me. “I’ll bring it to you when I’m done.”

  Mercifully, she left. Nikki rose from her chair like a dead thing, walked to the door, and locked it. She went back to her desk, put her head on her hands and began a serious, heartbreaking weep. He hadn’t even said goodbye.

  In a few minutes, she began fighting for a vestige of control. She lifted her head, her sore red eyes turned to the door between her office and the boardroom. With all her heart, she wished Darlene were wrong, that Michael was still on the other side. She could see him there, sitting at the table, jacket off, shirtsleeves pushed back. When she went in, he would look up and smile. She would go to him, tell him it was all a mistake. She loved him, wanted him.

  Nikki got up, went to the door and opened it. The room was empty.

  Tears threatened again, thickening behind her eyelids. She had to get out of here, out of this damned place. She couldn’t breathe.

  Along with everyone else in the office, Amy looked up to see Nikki walk from her office, her head high. Nikki knew she looked a sight, her face ghostly white, rivers of mascara running down her waxen cheeks. Amy stood immediately.

  Nikki lifted a hand. “Don’t say anything, Amy. Not a word. At the moment, I’m held together by a single thread.” She laughed hoarsely. “Just do me a favor, will you? Cancel my day. I’ve already managed to cancel my life.”

  Amy nodded, her eyes soft with compassion. “Will you be back at all?” she asked.

  “Don’t count on it. Right now, I can’t face this place.”

  “Niks—” Amy started.

  Nikki interrupted. “I’ll be okay. I just don’t want to talk about it. Okay?”

  “Call me later?”

  “All right.” Nikki turned to go.

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  ***

  Michael sat in a bar at the Vancouver International Airport. Any other time he would be in the V.I.P. lounge, thankful for the quiet and privacy to work, rest, or make a few last-minute phone calls. Not today. Today the crowded, noisy bar suited him. He needed the distraction. There was nothing like a busy airport to provide that. He sat near the front of the bar and rarely took his eyes off its broad entrance. Again he looked at his watch.

  Michael rubbed a hand over its antique dial. It had been his grandfather’s watch and then his father’s. Now it was his, and he couldn’t help wondering how many times the men of the Dorado family had looked at this same watch while they waited for that one special woman. For his grandfather and his father that woman had come. Would he be so lucky?

  ***

  Nikki arrived back at the office shortly before one o’clock. She had walked, wept, walked again, wept again and finally decided to go back to work.

  The least she could do was make sure Darlene had all the reports Michael requested. During her wilder moments of the last few hours, she had toyed with taking them to him herself. She had talked herself out of it, unable to face his distant, friendly manner. The pain would be too great. The idea of his taking the reports from her, thanking her graciously and extending his firm hand to say good-bye was too much to bear. Nothing could induce her to play in that charade.

  She crossed the open office area to her own door, grateful the office was nearly empty. It would fill up again in a few minutes when the secretaries and sales staff returned from lunch. For now, Nikki was glad of the calm, glad she didn’t have to face too many questioning eyes. She knew she’d made a spectacle of herself, leaving as she had. What stories were circulating about her crying jag, she could only guess. Right now, she didn’t care.

  She slipped into her own office, closed the door, and headed automatically to her desk. Forcing herself to read a sheaf of pink telephone messages she’d picked up at reception on the way in, she didn’t look up until she was almost to her chair. Then she saw it.

  A single ivory rose in an exquisite crystal vase.

  Propped at its base was a card. She reached for it, breath arrested, snagged somewhere near her heart. With a trembling hand, she picked up the envelope and opened it. Only then did her breath and her life return.

  My darling Nikki,

  Remember the roses? I will be in the Island Lounge at the airport until flight time. Don’t come unless you plan to marry me. I love you.

  Michael

  Nikki blinked as she looked at the card and its bold signature. Although she would have sworn there were no more tears left, they again welled in her eyes. Delicately, she fingered the petals of the perfect ivory rose.

  White for love’s pure light.

  She remembered. Could she ever forget?

  She crushed the flower to her heart.

  ***

  Michael saw her coming before she saw him. He stood to greet her, his heart pounding, his body weak with relief.

  Without a word, she walked into his arms. He held her to him, reveling in heart beating against heart.

  He would never, never let her go again.

  He held her from him and took her face in his hands. “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he said.

  “I thought ... that morning in the office ... after our weekend together— You were so calm, so unshakably cool and I—” She stopped. “I was a mess, confused, afraid ... And so much in love with you I didn’t know what to do.”

  He brought her tight to his chest, his hand cradling her head against his shoulder. “What you did, love, was scare the hell out of me.”

  She pulled her head back to look into his eyes, her own bright with tears. She tried to speak, but couldn’t and again buried her face in his chest. “Oh, Michael, I’m so sorry,” she finally murmured.

  “You’ll marry me then?” he whispered the words into her ear. Again she pulled back, her smile brilliant.

  “I have to,” she said. “In the last few hours, I’ve discovered I can’t live without you. You’ve given me no choice, Mr. Dorado. No choice at all.”

  “I didn’t intend to,” his grin was wicked.

  “But I’ll still want to work, and I’d like to stay with Prisma. There must be something I can do. Some way we can work it out.” She looked up at him, her expression a mixture of love, worry, and determination.

  “You can have my job. I only used it so I could have my way with you. Now that I see my days as an office Romeo are over, I won’t need it anymore.”

  “Michael!”

  “Hush. This is not the time or the place to show me how grateful you are. Besides, I’ve got a plane to catch, remember?” He continued to smil
e as he smoothed the hair from her temple, then gave her a gaze of such longing, she felt herself pale under its heat.

  She kissed him then, oblivious to the smiles and stares from the crowded bar. The kiss was long, deep and breathless. It ended with a question.

  “Is there anything I can do that would make you miss that plane?” Nikki asked, touching his cheek.

  Michael picked up his briefcase, put an arm around her, and smiled. “You could ... take me skiing.”

  After all, the skies were full of planes.

  ###

  About the author:

  Carole Dean lives on an island and writes to the sound of the ocean nudging the shore a few feet from her door. When she's not being a wife, mother, and grandmother of twin girls - or being walked by her hundred pound Rhodesian Ridgeback! - she writes romance. If she has one wish, it's that her books give the reader some well-deserved time-out from a sometimes difficult and too busy world. If she can make them smile, it's a bonus.

  If you enjoyed reading about Nikki and Michael’s romance be sure to look for more wonderful novels at www.musecreations.com