WHAT ARE FRIENDS FOR?

by Naomi Horton

  "We thought something terrible had happened," Margie said with a shudder. "All I could see was the two of you lying up here with broken necks, and then it started to snow."

  Tears welled up in her eyes and Conn gave her a tight hug. "Hey, we're both okay. We got to the cabin before it started to snow. We're fine."

  His eyes met Andie's over Margie's head and she bit her lip to hold back a smile, coming over to slip her arm around Margie's waist. "I feel awful," she said quietly. "You two spent the night worrying, and Conn and I—"

  She stopped dead, mouth still open, and Conn grinned, interested in seeing how she was going to get herself out of the corner she'd just painted.

  "We, um, we lit a fire and stayed warm and dry. And there was plenty of food." She glanced at Conn over Margie's head, and he gave her a quick, secret smile.

  "Warm." Margie gave Andie, then him, a suddenly speculative look. Her gaze drifted past Conn and into the interior of the cabin, where the big rumpled bed – obviously the only one that had been used – was in plain sight. She nodded slowly, mouth warmed by the barest hint of a smile. "I see."

  There was no need to remind her to keep it to herself, Conn knew. Margie had started working for him back when he and Billy Soames were still partners, and although she wasn't shy about giving him advice she thought he needed – including any about his love life – nothing she heard, saw or even speculated on ever went beyond the door of his office.

  He just gave her a lazy smile, getting a mildly disapproving look in return. "I hope you realize what a scare you gave everyone," she said a bit tartly. "Up here keeping warm while the rest of us thought you'd fallen over a cliff and killed yourself. I think every television and radio station on the West Coast has someone on the story – the lodge is crawling with film crews and reporters."

  Conn swore. "So much for keeping the Becktron buy-out a secret until we were ready to make an announcement."

  "Desmond Beck's taking care of it. But the sooner you two get the rest of your clothes on and we get back, the better. There has been some interesting speculation going around." She looked at the two of them as she said it. "And I'm not just talking about the Becktron deal."

  Conn swore again. "You're right. Let's move." A few minutes ago he'd have been happy to spend the rest of his life up here in bed with Andie. But now, abruptly, he was impatient to get back, wanting to get the negotiations with Becktron back in high gear and the deal signed. Wanting to get back to Devlin Electronics and see how things were going with those seismic units for DeepSix Exploration.

  He strode back into the cabin, pausing long enough to take the now-bubbling coffee percolator off the stove before starting to grab up the rest of his discarded clothes. Andie came in behind him, looking a little pensive as she closed the door behind her. She looked across the cabin at him, not saying anything, then picked up her bra from the back of the chair where she'd hung it to dry.

  As though suddenly shy, she turned her back as she slipped off her blouse and put on the bra. Conn watched her thoughtfully, wanting to say something to her, but not knowing what. Wanting to go across and slip his arms around her and tell her what it had meant, being up here with her. What making love to her had meant.

  He suddenly realized that he didn't have a clue as to what she wanted to do now. Write the whole night off as a memory? A mistake? Continue their relationship when they got back to Seattle…?

  Hell he hadn't thought about that. What were they going to do now? Yeah, he wanted to continue sleeping with her, but she might have an opinion or two about that. And there was that damned Frenchman to consider.

  If they did get a relationship going, what then? Andie had always been his best friend, not his lover – what were the rules about sleeping with your best friend?

  He swore and scrubbed his fingers through his hair, feeling more confused by the passing minutes. Damn it, none of this had seemed important last night. Drunk on sex, he hadn't been able to think further ahead than the next five minutes of pleasure.

  Frowning, still thinking about it, he looked around to see if he'd forgotten anything. Andie's camera and its leather case were still sitting on the hearth and he picked them up, smiling. There was one condom left, believe it or not. He drew it out and toyed with it, giving Andie a speculative glance. They could tell Margie and Frank to go sightseeing for a half hour or so…

  Then he shook off the whim and shoved the condom and the camera back in the case. Things were complicated enough already.

  He walked across and handed the case to Andie. "Better hang on to this. Who knows when you might need it again."

  You. He hadn't said we but you, Conn realized. He frowned, looking down at her, knowing he needed to say something. Anything, damn it. Just so she knew—

  "Thanks." Her voice was emotionless. Almost cool.

  And she still wouldn't look at him, Conn thought remotely. There had been none of her usual teasing, no laughter, not even a hint of warmth or tenderness. Nothing to indicate she even wanted to acknowledge what had happened up here. As though it was over and in the past and she'd prefer not to even mention it again.

  She turned and walked toward the door, and Conn suddenly took a couple of long strides and caught her before she opened it. "Wait," he growled, pulling her around. "One last thing before we leave…"

  She wasn't expecting it, and he felt more than heard her startled little intake of breath as his mouth landed across hers. He kissed her hard and long and deep, not getting much of a response, not really even expecting one. And when he lifted his mouth from hers a few moments later, he just grinned a little savagely. "God knows when I'm going to get the chance to do that again. It may have to hold us both for a while."

  There was something in her eyes he couldn't decipher, a soft tangle of emotions, and she simply gazed up at him, lips still softly parted, moist from his. Then she took a deep breath and nodded, frowning a little as she turned away. "We'd better go."

  Conn frowned, too, wanting equally badly to stay. Wanting to scoop her into his arms and tumble across the bed with her and lose himself in her. Wanting … hell, wanting things he didn't even understand! "We should talk."

  She gave him a quick, cryptic look, eyes searching his. "We have to get back to the lodge, Conn."

  "Yeah." Smiling humorlessly, he reached out and brushed a tangle of hair behind her ear, her cheek like velvet against the back of his hand. "Yeah, I guess we do."

  * * *

  The small helicopter lifted off in a swirl of snow and dirt, and Andie relaxed finally as the pilot swung it around and they clattered down the valley, sunlight flickering off the rotors above them. She was jammed between Margie and Conn, and although Conn had wrapped his hand around hers, he seemed to be somewhere else, distracted and thoughtfully silent.

  She was glad of the noise. It was a good excuse not to talk. She just wanted to get back to the lodge and have a long, hot shower and change her clothes and get back to work. She was bone tired – not surprising, considering she got precious little sleep last night. But most of all, she just wanted to be alone for a while.

  She needed some time. Time to think. Time to figure out what she was going to do now. It was possible that Conn figured they were just going to continue sleeping together, and she had to sort through her feelings about that. And if he didn't, if he was going to take last night for the one-time magic it was, well … she had to figure out how to handle that, too.

  They swung around the shoulder of Wolf Mountain and abruptly, the valley and lodge burst into view. The pilot headed for the parking lot where there was room to set down, and as they started to descend, Andie saw a flood of people pour out of the lodge and rush toward them.

  "What on earth—?"

  "I was afraid of this." Frank leaned across to peer out at the crowd of people. He looked at Andie and Conn. "Hang on to your hats, folks. This is where it gets interesting. These guys have been hanging around all night, waiting for some word."

  Andi
e spotted the video cameras, bright with television network decals, and groaned. "Isn't there any real news for them to cover?"

  "You two are real news," Frank said quietly. "When the president of Devlin Electronics disappears in a late-spring blizzard, that's news. When he and his second-in-command disappear, that's big news. Speculation ranges from accident to murder to a simple love tryst."

  Beside her, Conn muttered a coarse oath, looking out at the news crews, some already filming the copter's descent. Frank got out first and tried to disperse the crowd pushing in with their cameras and microphones, but they ignored him, nearly running him down when Conn jumped down from the chopper, then turned to help Andie down.

  "Hey, Mr. Devlin, is it true you're buying out Becktron?"

  "Here, Miss Spencer. Look over here!"

  Andie blinked, blinded momentarily by the sunlight, trying to turn away as someone shoved a microphone into her face.

  "What was it like, being stranded in a snowstorm with the bachelor of the year, Miss Spencer?" A woman's face loomed in, eyes avid. "Are you and Connor Devlin lovers, Miss Spencer?"

  Conn stepped between the woman and Andie. He dropped his arm around her and started pushing a path through the crowd. "Get out of the way, please," he said through gritted teeth. "Miss Spencer and I are fine, but we're tired and hungry. Someone from Devlin Electronics will be making an official statement later this morning. Now get the hell out of my way!"

  Voices lifted in a storm of shouted questions, and Andie refused to look left or right as microphones and video cameras kept being shoved at her, staying close to Conn as Frank and Margie brought up the rear.

  Desmond Beck was waiting for them inside the lodge, relief stamped all over his face. He greeted them warmly, then snapped out orders to a couple of his people, who immediately stepped in to stop the television crews and reporters stampeding through the big double doors.

  Conn grabbed Andie's hand and they made their way up the stairs, the shouts and questions falling away behind them. And then thy were inside her suite and Conn was closing the door, and all was silent.

  "Well, I could have lived without that," Conn rasped, looking unamused. "You okay?"

  Andie nodded wearily, tossing her still-damp jacket onto the sofa. "Yeah, I'm fine. I guess we should have realized this was going to happen. When word got out that you'd disappeared, it would have shaken up the entire electronics' industry. Your competitors would be praying you had gone over a cliff, and our suppliers and customers would have been praying you hadn't."

  Conn gave a grunt, looking over the messages that had come in on the fax. "Advise immediately whereabouts of C. Devlin pending cancellation of contract," he read out loud. "DeepSix Exploration." He glanced up at her, glowering. "Hell, do they think I'm making the damned things with my bare hands? Even if I had gone over a cliff, the contracts would be honored."

  "Devlin Electronics is Connor Devlin, you know that." She smiled and walked across to him. "You're a symbol, hotshot – the American Dream, alive and well and living in Seattle. Computer hacker makes good and all that."

  "I was never a hacker."

  "Oh? And what would you call someone who hacked his way into the high school computer and gave himself a passing grade in English Lit?"

  Conn winced. "God, aren't you ever going to let me forget that? I changed it back, for crying out loud."

  "Only when I threatened to tell your dad."

  He gave her a lazy grin. "Yeah, you always did keep me on the straight and narrow. I was more scared of you than I was of Dad or the principal."

  "And so you should be."

  "Hey." He reached out as she went to walk by him and grabbed her around the waist, swinging her against him. "What do you say we mess around for a while?" He nuzzled the side of her throat, his hands wandering with deft familiarity. "We could get naked and spend the next hour or so doing all sorts of things…"

  She caught a marauding hand as it slipped under her shirt. "Conn," she said a little breathlessly. "You have to have a shower and change and finish the deal with Beck. And we have to draft some sort of statement to keep the press happy. And Mom – I have to call Mom to let her know I'm okay. Ditto your parents. And take care of all these faxes and everything."

  Conn didn't say anything, holding her against him, his warm breath curling around her ear. Then he swore very softly and stepped away from her, his expression unreadable. "You're right." Pulling off his shirt, he started walking toward the connecting door leading to his suite. "Call Beck and tell him we'll get together in an hour. No point wasting any more time."

  Watching him disappear through the door, Andie sighed. Maybe she should have just said yes and damned well let Beck wait while she and Conn made love. For the last time, maybe.

  Then again, maybe not. Groaning aloud, she ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it back. She was so confused!

  * * *

  Once back, it was as though they hadn't even been away. As though, Conn thought irritably a few hours later, he'd dreamed the whole damned thing. The ride into Wolf Lake. The storm. Andie. Just one more in the series of increasingly erotic dreams he'd been having.

  They met with Desmond Beck for most of the afternoon, and by nightfall the deal was done. Becktron was his, save a few details yet to be worked out. He and Beck shook hands for the last time and then he stood near the doors of the lodge and watched the Becktron helicopter – his helicopter, now – lift off from the parking lot and vanish into the dusk.

  Andie was still hard at work in one of the meeting rooms with some of Beck's people – his people – trying to get a handle on the best way to start merging the two companies.

  It was a massive job, with months of hard and complicated work ahead, and it occurred to him as he walked wearily upstairs to his suite, that he'd hate to do this without her.

  That steel-trap mind of hers had saved them hours of work today, cutting through the confusion of too many details, too much paper, seeing what was important and what could wait.

  Andie. Just thinking about her made him smile. He thought of the small throaty sound of satisfaction she made when they made love. Of the scar on her inner thigh where she'd cut it open falling off her bicycle when she was nine. Of the way he'd kissed it last night, letting his mouth linger on the downy flesh there for a moment or two before going on to other, even more interesting places. Of the whispery little sigh she made when he did…

  He had to stop this. Just thinking about it made him aroused and uncomfortable, and he jogged up the steps two at a time, laughing at himself. He hadn't felt this way in years, getting distracted at all the wrong times, thinking about sex when he should he thinking about business. Finding himself in the middle of a meeting and suddenly realizing everyone was looking at him, waiting for an answer, and he'd been so lost in a haze of erotic thoughts, he hadn't even heard the damned question.

  Even now, he wanted to see her. Not just to skin her out of her clothes and wrap her long legs around him and make love to her until the sun came up – although God knows that was an idea! – but just to see her. Talk with her. Laugh with her. Be with her.

  Hell, it was like being in love.

  Still grinning, he unlocked the door to his suite and stepped inside, switching on the television as he walked by it, already unbuttoning his shirt. Some game show was in progress, and he ignored it as he pulled open the small bar. He poured himself a stiff shot of whiskey and tossed in a handful of ice cubes, then dropped onto the sofa and dropped his head back wearily.

  "…and now the news," a voice from the television droned. "Millionaire playboy Connor Devlin, founder and president of Devlin Electronics, was found alive and unhurt this morning, after having been lost in the mountains near Timberwolf Lodge."

  Conn threw his head up and glared at the television, the word playboy still ringing in his ears – and found himself staring into his own eyes.

  It was a videotape, obviously taken as they'd gotten off the helicopter this morning
. He swore savagely as he watched himself glower at the offending camera, heavily stubbled, hair uncombed, shirt still unbuttoned and hanging open, looking as though he'd just been caught in someone's bed.

  The video was replaced by a still photo. It was a couple of years old, taken at a benefit he and Judith had attended, and his eyes narrowed now as he looked at it. He was dressed to the nines, looking impatient, and Judith was glaring up at him with enough venom to make him wince slightly even now.

  "Twice married, self-styled renegade entrepreneur Devlin has made a reputation for himself for his kamikaze investment strategies, as well as for his fondness for marrying – and divorcing – beautiful women."

  Two more pictures followed: he and Judith at their wedding, a snapshot of Liza taken not long after she left him.

  "Found with Devlin was his assistant, Andrea Spencer." This accompanied by more of the video, and Conn swore again as he watched Andie get out of the helicopter, looking subdued and tired. "It has long been rumored that the relationship between Devlin and Miss Spencer goes well beyond business, though sources close to both deny this vigorously."

  On the television screen, his alter ego was putting a protective arm around Andie's shoulder, guiding her through the crowd, holding her close. Too close, Conn thought. He should have been more careful. He shouldn't be putting Andie through all this because of his reputation as a womanizer.

  There was a tap on the door connecting to Andie's suite and then the door was pushed open wide enough for her to stick her head in. She spotted the television and made a face, then pushed the door wider and came in. "So you already have it on."

  "Bastards," Conn muttered. "A million real news stories out there, and they're wasting airtime speculating whether you and I are getting it off."

  "You could always call up the station and tell them we are. Or did, anyway." Smiling comfortably, she came over and sat beside him, tucking her feet up. "That's a good picture of Olivia."