by Francis Ray
“You say something?” Trent asked as he backed out of the driveway.
“No,” she said quickly, glad when seconds ticked by and he didn’t say anything else. Something was definitely wrong with her. The only thing in her favor was that Trent didn’t have a clue. Lord help her if he ever did.
* * *
Neither spoke until Trent passed through the ticket booth at Dallas-Ft. Worth International Airport. “Don’t you think you had better tell me the airline, terminal, and gate?”
Dominique realized on hearing the question that she had forgotten to check the night before to make sure the gate hadn’t changed. She gave him the airline, then checked her ticket to give him the other information he requested.
Trent moved over a lane and took the next exit. She was still gripping the envelope when Trent pulled into the parking lot on the upper level for departing flights. “You don’t have to park,” she told him hurriedly.
“Your flight leaves in ten minutes. I suggest we run instead of arguing.” Grabbing her case out of the back-seat, he took her arm and steered her across the street into the terminal.
The heat of his hand easily penetrated her light blue, linen jacket. She cut a glance sideways at him and saw the rigid profile of his face. He was just being courteous, nothing more. A few more minutes and she’d be on the plane.
The security buzzer sounded. She glanced back as a male security guard moved toward Trent. “Please try again, Sir.”
“Go ahead, Dominique. I’ll catch up with you,” Trent said. He stepped through and the security buzzer sounded again. “Must be the keys.”
“Beep again, Brother, and you’re mine,” said a statuesque female security guard a few feet from Dominique. Her dark eyes gleamed with interest as they traveled slowly over Trent’s muscular body.
“I’ll buy you lunch if you let me do him,” stated another female security guard, her gold-tipped nails tapping restlessly against the metal detector in her hand.
The women looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“Dominique, go on,” Trent told her again as he jammed his hand into his pocket and removed his keys, then tossed them into the waiting container the guard held.
Holding his hands up in the air, he walked through the security checkpoint again. Silence.
“Dog,” said the first security guard who had spoken. “Did that brother have a body on him. I was looking forward to—”
“Come on,” Trent said, retrieving his keys with one hand and reaching for Dominique with the other. His steps were hurried as he led her away from the disappointed security women. “Why didn’t you go on?”
Telling him about the two woman ogling him would inflate his probably already huge ego. “It would have been rude,” she answered instead.
He grunted. “If you miss your plane, Janice is not going to be happy.” He expertly steered her through the early morning crowd of business and vacation travelers.
Hearing the announcement for boarding for her flight, their pace increased. When they arrived at the check-in counter, only one customer service representative remained, and a long line of passengers waited to board.
“Seems I just made it,” Dominique said, the huskiness of her voice more pronounced from rushing.
Before the words were halfway out of her mouth the agent abruptly lifted his head. Thin shoulders snapped to erectness. His professional smile warmed considerably as he greeted her, then went about checking her in.
Handing her a boarding pass he said, “I’m sorry, the other first class passengers have already boarded. It will be just a moment.”
“That’s all right. I’m just glad I didn’t miss my plane.”
“So am I,” he said, his voice just shy of crossing the line between professionalism and flirtation.
Dominique felt a hand clamp on her arm and looked up at Trent. Her brows bunched. He was glaring at the too thin man. Not for one second did she think Trent was jealous. Rudeness just came naturally to him.
Freeing her arm, she walked to the window to wait to board. “Are you always like this?”
“What did I do now?”
“You looked at that poor man as if you wanted to take his head off.”
“He deserved it.”
“For what? Being nice to me?”
“For peeping down your blouse,” he answered tightly.
“What?” Dominique exclaimed, glancing down. The lacy cup of her blue bra peeked from between the opening of her unfastened buttons. She quickly redid them, then remembered the man’s gaze dropping.
She flushed. “Thanks.”
Trent’s brown eyes rounded. “What did you say?”
“You heard me, and I’m not repeating it.”
He smiled. “I guess I can live with that.”
Her heart rate kicked up. He really did have a nice smile.
“Last call for passengers boarding Flight six seven six for Houston. Last call.”
Dragging her gaze away she glanced toward the thinning passengers, then reached for her overnight bag. “I’d better get going.”
Slowly, almost reluctantly, he handed her the luggage. Their fingertips brushed, and this time neither could deny the transfer of heat.
She moistened her dry lips. “Thanks for the ride.”
“When are you coming back?” he asked, telling himself he was asking for Janice.
She bit her lip before answering. “I don’t know, but I’ll be busy when I do.”
To Trent, she couldn’t have said it any plainer. They might have a truce, but she still wanted to steer clear of him. He had never pushed himself on a woman, and he wasn’t about to start.
“You don’t believe in second chances, do you?” he said, then continued before she could answer. “As I said, I’m gone a great deal. Have a good flight.” Tipping the brim of his Texas Rangers’ baseball cap, he walked away.
Dominique watched him leave and felt oddly bereft.
“Miss Falcon, you’ll have to board now.”
Dominique jerked her head around to see the ticket agent. “Thank you,” she said coolly. The smile on his narrow face turned to puzzlement as she brushed past him and headed for the gate.
She didn’t look back.
If she had she would have seen Trent stop and turn around. He stayed there until the gate closed and the airplane taxied down the runway.
Dominique wasn’t as cold as he had thought, but the realization didn’t make him any happier. Apparently neither one of them was looking for an affair, yet the attraction between them was getting stronger each time they were together.
So there was only one thing to do. Keep the hell away from her and pray she did the same with him.
Chapter Three
As soon as the flight attendant gave the clearance to make in-flight calls, Dominique dialed Janice’s home number. She was mildly surprised when her godmother answered the phone. Trent’s assessment was correct, she informed Dominique. His mechanic, Smitty, had brought a battery and installed it for her.
Trent always took care of her. He was such a fine, conscientious man, she said. You didn’t find too many young people who were concerned with older people, especially if they weren’t related to them.
Dominique didn’t want to hear about the sterling qualities of a man who confused, irritated, and excited her in equal measure, but Janice was on a roll. Dominique mumbled the appropriate words politely when it was time for an answer, but as soon as Janice started winding down Dominique told her godmother she’d call that night.
Replacing the receiver, she sat back in her seat and tried to think of anything but intense brown eyes that could melt stone and make her body tremble.
“Excuse me, Miss. I know this must sound like a line, but don’t I know you?”
He didn’t, but that didn’t keep the suave and polished business executive sitting next to her from trying to pick her up. She resorted to her old standby of pleading a headache, putting on her shades, and turning her shoul
der to him during the rest of the flight.
The second the FASTEN SEAT BELT sign blinked off after landing forty-eight long minutes later in Houston, Dominique pushed her glasses atop her head, stood, and reached for her bag. Her seatmate, the two men across the aisle, and the male flight attendant hurried to help her. Restraining herself from telling them that if they moved out of the way she could do it better and faster, she kept a smile plastered on her face.
Overnighter in hand, she left the airplane at a brisk pace. The business executive sprinted to catch up with her. Unfortunately, Dominique was beginning to develop a real headache.
Her gaze was glacial. “I don’t know any more ways to indicate I’m not interested, and I don’t intend to try. Good-bye.”
Gripping her luggage, she started out of the portable boarding tunnel. The other two men who had tried to help her with her bag hurried by.
She spotted Higgins—now her mother’s chauffeur, and her grandparents’ before that—as soon as she came out of the tunnel. Despite his seventy-two years his shoulders were straight beneath his tailored, two-button pinstripe navy suit. The gray abstract tie was silk, the shoes Bally.
She smiled warmly. More than one man watched enviously as she hugged the elderly man.
“Hello, Higgins. I was afraid you might forget me since you have so much time on your hands now,” she teased.
“Shame on you, Dominique, for saying such a thing,” he greeted, reaching for her case. He might be formal with the rest of the family when their guests or associates were around, but Dominique had always been Dominique. “When I talk to your mother again I’ll have to tell her she still has work to do.”
She hugged his frail arm, her steps slowed to match his. “You miss her a lot, don’t you?”
He nodded. “But her place is with your father and I couldn’t be happier. Besides, what would I do on a ranch?”
“I seem to remember Daddy had about five hundred head of cattle and a few fields that needed plowing,” she chided affectionately.
Allowing her to go through the outside revolving door first, he followed. “I’m a city boy.”
Dominique smiled, secretly wondering if he knew her mother had said Higgins might have stood anything except the fact that the nearest store that stocked his favorite brand of Scotch was sixty miles away.
He would have stayed if her mother needed him, though. She hadn’t. Felicia was no longer afraid to lean on her husband or share her innermost thoughts with him. She had finally progressed from an indulged young woman to a happy, contented adult, secure in the love of the only man she had ever loved.
After storing the luggage in the trunk of the shiny gray Mercedes, Higgins opened the passenger door for Dominique. Once she was settled he went around and got inside. “Have a nice stay with Ms. Yates?”
“Most of it,” she said, then grimaced. She was not going to let Trent interfere with her happiness.
Higgins backed out of the parking space and merged with the airport traffic. “I thought Daniel said you found a studio.”
“I did. There were some other matters that I didn’t expect,” she told him evasively.
“Anything I can do to help?” he asked.
She sent him a warm smile. “No, but thanks. I have to do this by myself.”
“I hope that doesn’t mean you’re going to go off again,” he told her, stopping at a signal light. “It’s been nice having you these weeks. I’ve hated to see you always leaving, and so did your family.”
She took the slight reprimand with the affection behind it. “I hated it just as much, but something always pushed me to go.”
“And now?”
She searched her heart, her mind. There wasn’t quite the peace she wanted, but neither was the restlessness that usually haunted her. “This time I’m going to stay put. In Dallas.”
He sent her a pleased look. “It’s about time.”
“Don’t I know it,” she agreed.
“You might even find a nice young man.”
She stiffened. Not Higgins, too. Since Daniel had gotten married her mother had really been dropping hints for Dominique to find ‘some nice young man.’
Dominique glanced at Higgins suspiciously. He and her mother were as thick as thieves. “I’m too busy for that.”
“Nobody was busier than your brother, and look what happened to him,” Higgins reminded her and took the on ramp to the freeway.
“That won’t happen to me,” she said emphatically.
The chauffeur shot her an indulgent look. “Seems I remember your brother thinking the same thing. I’d sure hate for you to go through what he went through.”
“Could we talk about something else?” she asked.
“None is so blind as he who will not see.”
“Higgins.” She turned in her seat toward him. “What has gotten into you?”
“Nothing. Just remembering your brother, and remembering how much alike you two are.” He sent her a sideways glance. “I’d like to see you just as happy.”
She straightened. “I am happy.”
“There’s happy, and there’s happy,” he said cryptically. “If you want to know the difference ask your parents and Daniel.”
Dominique leaned back against her seat. She didn’t have to ask.
Her parents had spent two years estranged and hating every second of it, and neither she nor her brother had suspected they still loved each other and were miserable apart. Her hard-nosed brother seemed to have everything a man could want, yet she hadn’t the slightest doubt his wife had given him a happiness that was clearly his greatest joy.
“Everyone wasn’t meant to find that someone special,” she told him. “Just look at you.”
“I do every morning when I shave, and every night when I pass the mirror on the dresser and climb into an empty bed. There’s no one there staring back at me except me. Once it didn’t matter,” he told her. “Seeing the excitement in Daniel and Madelyn as they get ready for that baby kind of makes me wish I hadn’t been so finicky in my younger years. At my age a man sees his immortality and it’s scary as hell. I don’t want that for you.”
“Higgins.” She turned in her seat toward him. She couldn’t think of anything else to say or do. She had always thought he was happy, his singleness something he had chosen. To think he now regretted the decision and was lonely was unsettling.
A frail hand reached over and patted hers affectionately a couple of times before returning to the steering wheel. “Don’t fret. I’ve a good life, and the good Lord willing I’ve got some years left. Just promise me you won’t look back on your life with a ‘should have,’ or an ‘if only,’ like I’m doing now. Live your life, go after your dreams, but remember dreams can’t love you back. Promise me.”
“Higgi—”
“Promise me.”
“You know you’re like family to us,” she said, meaning every word. He was included in vacations and special events as one of the family, not as an employee.
He nodded his graying head. “I know. Sometimes I’ve thought of your mother as mine. She and I have been through a lot over the years.” He sighed. “But there’s a special bond between husband and wife, parent and child, that I can’t transcend, that I’ll never know. You can’t tell me you haven’t watched your brother and Madelyn and felt like an intruder.”
She couldn’t, but that didn’t mean everyone would be as lucky. She ought to know. She had tried and failed miserably.
“Promise me,” he urged.
“I promise to try.”
He almost smiled. “You’re as cagey as that brother of yours.”
“Thanks for the compliment,” she said, feeling more in control. She didn’t need a man in her life, not now, not ever. So why did a picture of Trent Masters flash before her?
* * *
Trent couldn’t concentrate. He’d tried. But a black-eyed temptress with long, black hair and a voluptuous body kept getting in the way.
Tossing the
pen down on the bid he’d been trying to work on for the past two hours, Trent finally gave up. He’d bet dollars to donuts she wasn’t thinking about him. She probably had every guy on the plane salivating.
Just as she had that ticket agent drooling. Trent got angry all over again. At himself and the agent.
He had noticed the man’s gaze dropping and thought he was eyeing her breasts. It wasn’t until after he turned her around to lead her away that he had seen the delicate blue lace as fragile as a spider web flirting with concealing her breasts.
Flirting, because the lace left the top swell deliciously bare. His blood had heated: his anger had risen.
He surged to his feet. He had promised Dominique they would be friends. Friends did not lust after each other.
The wooden chair creaked as he spun it around and plopped back down again. He was going to finish this report. No woman was going to interfere with his business.
The roar of a powerful diesel engine clearly came through the double office window. Trent lifted his head. The huge, black, seventy-foot eighteen wheeler with a two-foot-wide slash of red and yellow down the sides with Masters Trucking imprinted upon it slowly pulled into the complex.
Seeing one of his rigs never ceased to fill him with a sense of pride and accomplishment. There were forty-nine in all, scattered across the United States, Mexico, and Canada.
Pretty good for a man who had started out with a blanket and a note. But he never forgot things might have ended differently if people along the way hadn’t helped him. Sure, people had tried to stick it to him—the woman he thought he loved for one—but somehow things had always worked out in his favor.
He had left West Memphis with the clothes on his back, a shattered dream, and a broken heart. On the way his new sports car had burst a water hose.
Randle Hodge, in a fifteen-year-old rig, admittedly stopped to harass the pretty boy in the sports car, but had taken pity on him instead. After jury-rigging his hose, Randle had followed Trent to the nearest service station. Pulling a card that had seen better years out of his back pocket, he had handed it to Trent and told him to call him if he ever needed help.