by JoAnn Ross
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Kelli asked an hour later, after the trophies had been handed out.
“It’s been a long day,” Amanda demurred. “I have a lot to think about. I think I’ll just stay here.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
Kelli glanced at Dane, who’d come into the room during the awards ceremony, then back at Amanda. “It’s a fabulous offer, Amanda.”
“I know.”
“But then again, men like Dane Cutter don’t come into a girl’s life every day.”
“I know that, too.” She’d had two chances with Dane. How many more would she be lucky enough to be given?
“Well, I don’t envy you your choice, but good luck.” Kelli left the room to join the others, who were gathering in the reception foyer for their trip to town.
Unbearably nervous, Amanda stood rooted to the spot as Dane walked toward her.
“Your hands are cold,” he said as he took both of them in his.
“It’s the weather.” Rain streaked down the windows, echoing her mood. “It’ll be good when you get the new furnace installed.”
“Yes.” It wasn’t the chill outside that had turned her fingers to ice, but a nervousness inside, Dane decided.
“Would you like to talk about it?” he asked quietly.
Amanda swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Actually,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper, “I would. But first I’d like to make love with you.”
Dane needed no second invitation.
Alone in the tower room, Dane and Amanda undressed each other slowly, drawing out this suspended time together with slow hands and tender touches.
The candles she’d lit when they’d first entered the room burned low as they moved together, flowing so effortlessly across the bed, they could have been making love in an enchanted world beneath the sea.
Whispered words of love mingled with the sound of rain falling on the slate roof; soft caresses grew more urgent, then turned gentle again as they moved from patience to urgency, returning to tenderness, before continuing on to madness. All night long.
The candles stuttered out. The rain stopped, the moon began to set. And despite their unspoken efforts to stop time, morning dawned. Gray and gloomy.
Amanda lay in Dane’s arms, feeling more loved than she’d ever felt in her life. And more miserable.
“Are you ready to talk about it?” he asked quietly.
As his thumb brushed away the errant tear trailing down her cheek, she squeezed her eyes tight and helplessly shook her head.
“We have to, Amanda.” His voice was as calm and selfcontrolled as it had been ten years ago, making her feel like a foolish, lovestruck fifteen-year-old all over again. “We can’t put it off any longer.”
“I know.”
With a long sigh, she hitched herself up in bed. Dane wondered if she realized how beautiful she was, with her face, flushed from making love, framed by that tousled dark gold cloud of hair. Her eyes were wide and laced with more pain than a woman who’d spent the night making mad, passionate love should be feeling. She dragged her hand through her hair. “I don’t know where to start.”
He sat up as well and put his arm around her shoulder. “How about at the beginning?”
This wasn’t going to be good. Dane’s mind whirled with possibilities, trying to get ahead of the conversation so he could supply an argument to any reason she might try to give for leaving.
“Kelli is a company spy. But not for Greg.”
“She works for the home office.” All the pieces of the puzzle that had been nagging at him finally fell into place.
“Yes.”
“When did you find out?”
“Right before the rock climb. She told me Greg was going to be fired. And that his job was mine, if I wanted it.”
“Which you do.” Dane decided there were worse things than commuter marriages. Portland wasn’t that far away, and if her job made her happy…
“I thought I did.” Her fingers, plucking at the sheets, revealed her nervousness. Dane waited.
“She offered me another position.”
“Oh?” His heart pounded hard and painfully in his chest. “In Portland?”
Her words clogged her throat. Amanda could only shake her head.
“The job’s in Manhattan,” Dane guessed flatly.
“Yes.” She shook her head again. “No.”
“Which is it? Yes? Or no?” An impatience he’d tried to control made his tone gruff.
“My office would be in Manhattan. But I’d be traveling most of the time. In an ombudsman position.”
It made sense. Having watched her in action, Dane knew she’d be a natural. And Lord knows, if the lack of morale the employees of the former C.C.C. agency had displayed when they’d first arrived at Smugglers’ Inn was indicative of that of the international firm’s other acquisitions, they were in desperate need of an effective ombudsman.
“That’s quite an offer.”
“Yes.” Her voice lacked the enthusiasm he would have expected. “I think I could be good at it.”
“I know you’d be great.” It was, unfortunately, the absolute truth.
“And the salary and benefits are generous.”
When she related them to Dane, he whistled. “That would definitely put you in the big leagues.” Which was where her father had always intended her to be.
“I’ve dreamed of ending up on Madison Avenue, of course,” Amanda admitted. “But I never thought my chance would come this soon. My parents would probably be proud of me,” she murmured, echoing his thoughts.
“They’d undoubtedly be proud of you whatever you did.” It wasn’t exactly the truth. But it should be.
Her crooked, wobbly smile revealed they were thinking the same thing.
“When do you have to give the partners your answer?”
“By the end of next week.” Tell me not to go, she begged him silently.
Dane wanted to tell her to turn the offer down. He wanted to insist she stay here, with him, to make a home during the day and babies at night, as they’d planned so many years ago.
But, just as he’d had to do what was right for him, Dane knew that Amanda could do no less for herself.
“It’s a terrific opportunity,” he forced himself to say now. “I’m sure you’ll make the right choice.”
Because he feared he was going to cry, Dane drew her back into his arms, covered her mouth with his, and took her one last time with a power and a glory that left them both breathless.
Not wanting to watch Amanda walk out of his life for a second time, later that morning Dane went down to the beach, seeking peace.
In the distance, he heard the bus taking the corporate team—and Amanda—away.
He knew that Eve Deveraux would be happy to give him a job at the Park Avenue Whitfield Palace. But, although it would allow him to be with Amanda, Dane was honest enough with himself to admit that there was no way he could return to the rat race of the city.
During his last years at Whitfield, he’d become driven and impatient. He hadn’t liked that hard-edged individual, his mother definitely hadn’t, and he knew damn well that Amanda wouldn’t, either. Which made his choice to go to Manhattan no choice at all.
He saw the words written in the sand from the top of the cliff, but the mist kept him from being able to read them.
As he climbed down the stone steps, the words became clearer.
Amanda loves Dane.
“I love you.” The soft, familiar voice echoed her written words. Dane turned and saw Amanda standing there, looking like his every dream come true.
“We found something together the other night in the cave, Dane. Something that’s far more valuable to me than any alleged pirate’s treasure. I want to stay. Here, in Satan’s Cove with you.” Her heart was shining in her eyes. “If you’ll have me.”
As much as he wanted to shout out Yes!, Dane
knew they’d never be happy if she felt her decision was a sacrifice.
“What about New York?”
“It’s a great place to visit.”
“But you wouldn’t want to live there.”
“Not on a bet.”
He felt a rush of relieved breath leave his lungs. “What about the job of creative director?”
“You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?” she asked with a soft smile.
“I don’t think a decision this important should be easy.”
“True.” She sighed, not having wanted to get into the logistics of her decision right now. “The problem is, if I move into Greg’s job, I’d still be working for a huge agency. Which wasn’t why I got into advertising in the first place.
“After you left the room this morning, I had some visitors. Marvin, Julian, and Luke. They’ve been as unhappy as I have with the profit craze that’s taken over the industry lately. They also decided Satan’s Cove was a perfect place to open a shop.
“They’ve arranged to lease the offices above the crystal store and asked me to join them.” Her smile was beatific, reminding Dane of how she looked after they’d made love.
“As much as I love the idea of you staying here, with me,” Dane said, “I have to point out there aren’t many prospective accounts in Satan’s Cove, sweetheart.”
“They’ve already contacted former clients who are unhappy with the way things have been going, and want to sign on. A lot of our business can be done by phone and fax, with the occasional trip into the city…. And speaking of local clients, I thought you might consider redoing your brochure.”
“What’s wrong with my brochure?”
“It’s lovely. But it could use some fine-tuning. Why don’t I give you a private presentation later?” She’d also come up with a nifty idea for Davey Jones’s Locker she intended to run by Iris.
Putting advertising aside for now, Amanda twined her arms around Dane’s neck and pressed her smiling lips to his.
As they sealed the deal with a kiss, the last of the fog burned off.
Amanda loves Dane.
The brilliant sun turned the love letter she’d written in the sand to a gleaming gold nearly as bright as Dane and Amanda’s future.
eISBN 978-14592-8096-0
IT HAPPENED ONE WEEK
Copyright © 1996 by JoAnn Ross
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office. Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York. NY 10017 U.S.A.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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Printed in U.S.A.
Table of Contents
Excerpt
Dear Reader
Title Page
About The Author
Dedication
Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
Copyright