by Ginna Gray
He sat down on the sofa and propped one ankle across the opposite knee. His expression turned serious, and for a long time he looked at her in silence.
"I'm sorry about last night," he said abruptly. "Not that I kissed you. I'd been wanting to do that. I still do. But I swear, I never meant to embarrass you, Alissa."
She looked away, unable to meet his intense stare. "Please. You can't expect me to believe that you're really interested in me."
"You're a beautiful woman. Why wouldn't I be?"
"Because you've known me for fifteen years and in all that time you barely looked at me."
He shrugged. "Things change. Up until a year ago you were married. Now you're not."
"Nevertheless, we both know that you wouldn't even be here, you never would have even asked me to dance last night or … or kissed me if you hadn't overheard that conversation."
"All right, maybe that's true. But hearing you say that you were attracted to me did bring you to my attention. Now I can't get you off my mind. But I swear, I never meant to humiliate you, Alissa. That's not why I kissed you."
She lifted her chin. "No? Then why did you do it? You must have known that making a spectacle of us would embarrass me."
"You want the truth?" At her nod, he looked away, toward the fire, ran an agitated hand through his hair, then quickly looked back.
"Damned if I know. All week, right up to the time I arrived at the party, I told myself I was going to stay away from you from now on and put things back to normal between us. Then I saw you in that blue dress." He gave her a small smile. "You looked beautiful, by the way."
"Thank you," she replied in a clipped voice, refusing to be taken in by his flattery.
"Anyway … I couldn't stay away. I told myself one dance. That was all. But you felt so damned good in my arms, I couldn't let you go. Hell, Jack is the best friend I have, but when he tried to cut in I wanted to strangle him."
He looked at her and waited, but she merely gazed back with those wary blue eyes and did not say a word.
She wasn't going to make it easy for him, Dirk thought. Grinding his teeth, he strove for patience and pressed on. "I think, in the back of my mind, I was hoping that we could talk … maybe get to know one another better … but the whole time we danced you seemed determined to freeze me out." He shot her a wry look. "As you probably know, I don't accept defeat easily."
The remark brought the first crack in Alissa's remote expression. Her mouth twitched ever so slightly, and he could see by the gleam in her eyes that she thought his comment was an understatement. It wasn't much, but he was encouraged.
"Then I saw the mistletoe hanging right over us. I couldn't resist.
"Any more than I could stop myself from thinking about you all week while I was out of town," he added softly.
Alissa's head jerked up and her eyes widened.
"I know. I'm as surprised as you are, but there it is."
"I … I'm sure that doesn't mean anything. After that day in the restaurant, I was bound to be on your mind."
"For a while, maybe. Hell, Alissa, don't you think I know that other women in the company are attracted to me? Some of them have been downright brazen about it, but I just ignore them, and the problem usually goes away. I certainly don't obsess about them. Lately I think about you all the time—first thing when I wake up in the morning, while I'm shaving or driving to work, while I'm eating. Thoughts of you have even started interrupting my work."
The last was said with such obvious resentment it brought a full-fledged smile to Alissa's lips.
Dirk sat forward on the edge of the sofa with his forearms braced across his knees and looked at her intently. "I'd like to see you, Alissa. We could start with dinner tonight."
Alissa plucked at the soft fleece of her sweat suit. Part of her wanted almost desperately to say yes. She had never been attracted to any man, not even Tom, whom she had loved dearly, as much as she was to Dirk. There was something compelling about him, something rawly male and dangerous that drew her.
Which was strange, as she had never been one to seek out danger. She wasn't a risk taker. She liked security, the comfort of the safe and familiar.
Yet for months she had been aware of Dirk, had watched him, fantasized about him. Never in her wildest dreams had she actually expected anything to happen between them. Now he was offering her what he had offered no other women at Tex-Con—a chance to spend time with him, to get to really know him.
Still, as tempted as she was to jump at the offer, another part of her was cautious, afraid of being hurt. "I don't think that would be a good idea," she finally said, forcing the words out of her constricted throat. "Working together as we do, it … it isn't wise to become personally involved."
"I know. That's why I've always made it a rule never to date any woman who worked for the company. But there is an exception to every rule. For me it's you."
"The … the gossip around the office would be awful."
"We'll be discreet."
A weak smile wavered on her lips. "Everyone will find out eventually. You know it's impossible to keep anything a secret around the office."
"Whatever happens, we'll handle it. We're two adults. C'mon, Alissa. You meant it when you said you were attracted to me, didn't you?"
Her blush returned, and she looked away toward the fire again. "Yes," she admitted with painful honesty. "I meant it."
"And I've never felt this way about any woman before. Don't you think we owe it to ourselves to see where these feelings lead? C'mon, Alissa. Give us a chance. Say yes."
She stared at him, bemused and torn. Dirk's commanding personality and sharp tongue were usually all he needed to get his way. He could, however, when he put his mind to it, seduce anyone into doing whatever he wanted. Many times she had seen him utterly disarm a disgruntled customer and have him eating out of his hand within minutes.
Now he was pulling out all the stops, beguiling her with his tough charm. Those silvery eyes glittered at her, drawing her in. The expression on his dark, harshly handsome face coaxed shamelessly, and his voice was a smoky seduction.
Common sense told her to say no, but a reckless excitement quivered inside her. She was thirty-six years old, and in all her life she'd never done anything impetuous or risky. She'd never thrown her hat over the rainbow and trusted her heart to a dangerous man.
"All right," she whispered.
Dirk was astonished at how relieved he felt. He didn't even want to think of how it would have been if she had said no. He didn't completely understood why, but it had become imperative that he make this connection with Alissa.
In the past week, he had come to realize that she embodied all his young man's dreams—not only was she lovely, she had a gentle nature, and she was feminine and nurturing and utterly giving. And, as he had discovered the night before, when he kissed her, beneath that serene surface she was a vibrant and passionate woman.
She had tried to hold back and not respond to the kiss, but he had broken down all her barriers, and she had melted in his arms. He wanted that to happen again. He wanted to make love to her, to drive her to the brink, see her flushed with passion and a little wild, that ladylike poise shattered.
The thought interfered with his breathing and sent heat streaking to his loins.
"Good. Great." He stood up, and she did the same. For a few seconds, an awkward silence filled the room, and Alissa shifted from one foot to the other, not quite meeting his eyes. Dirk checked his watch. "It's almost five now. How about if I pick you up at seven?"
"Seven is fine."
He studied her intently. "You're not going to have second thoughts and cancel on me, are you?"
Alissa looked up, startled, and he knew by her guilty expression that the thought had occurred to her.
After a brief hesitation, she sighed and shook her head. "No, I won't do that."
The first thing Dirk noticed when he entered his apartment was the drastic difference between his place and Ali
ssa's. He hung his coat in the closet, then paused in the wide entrance to the living room. With his hands hooked on his hipbones, he looked around at his spacious apartment.
The place was so damned quiet. And empty.
His mouth twisted. He remembered when he'd purchased the condo. He hadn't known spit about decorating, so he'd paid an interior designer a hideous amount of money, told her to make it comfortable and appealing and given her free rein.
She'd done a superb job, he supposed. The place was perfect—if you liked chrome and glass and starkly modern furniture.
Actually, it was too perfect.
Thanks to Mrs. Appleton, the housekeeper who came twice a week, there was never so much as a vase or figurine out of place—not that there were many of those. The decorator had opted for an uncluttered look. The only colors throughout the entire apartment were navy and beige. Minimalist, she'd called it. To him, it looked stark.
It lacked something, but he'd never known exactly what, until today, when he walked into Alissa's home. The modest suburban house was beautifully decorated, but there was more; it had that lived-in feel, the warmth and coziness of a real home.
The house was a reflection of Alissa, he realized suddenly—not the oh-so-capable and efficient Mrs. Kirkpatrick, but the real Alissa, the warm, vibrant creature who had so lovingly put together that charming retreat from the world.
It was there that she let her hair down—literally, it seemed. It was there that she shed those smart business clothes, and with them that cool professional air, and ran around braless in old sweats and woolly socks without a touch of makeup.
There hadn't been a single stick of furniture in Alissa's home made of glass and chrome; there had only been pleasing colors and interesting textures, graceful shapes. All her furniture was overstuffed and comfortable, the kind that invited a man to kick his shoes off and relax.
Dirk could imagine himself stretched out on her sofa after a big Sunday dinner, watching a football game on television and sipping a beer while a real wood fire, not those fake gas logs he had, crackled in the fireplace.
He wanted to make love to Alissa in front of that fireplace—slow, sizzling love, the kind that lasted all night. With any luck, it would happen soon.
The sleek black lacquered box his decorator called a nouveau grandfather clock gonged the hour, and Dirk headed for the master suite, stripping his shirt off over his head as he went. By the time he reached the bathroom, he was naked.
His bathroom was bigger than Alissa's living room, with heated towel racks, a sunken Jacuzzi tub and a white marble shower with spray fixtures on three walls that was big enough for a half-dozen people at once, but it gave him no pleasure. The room, like the rest of the apartment, seemed cold and empty.
As Dirk lathered his body beneath the hot spray, he thought about how shocked most people would be if they knew how he felt.
He knew what others thought about his life. He seemed to have everything. Certainly, even he had to admit that he had achieved more than he had ever dreamed of as a boy—an education, a challenging and extremely lucrative position with a blue-chip company, a fantastic high-rise apartment in a prestigious neighborhood, a luxury automobile, all the material things that money could buy.
His male friends and co-workers envied his single lifestyle—particularly the married ones. Dirk knew they would be stunned, and probably disappointed, if they ever learned that what he wanted most—what he had always wanted—were the two things he could never have: a solid marriage and a family.
"Aw, hell." He made an impatient movement with his shoulders and shook his wet hair out of his face as he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. What the devil was the matter with him? All right, so he was lonely. Big deal. There were a hell of a lot worse things in the world, as he knew only too well.
Impatient with himself, he marched back into his bedroom, determined that for the rest of the evening he would concentrate on nothing more than sharing a few pleasant hours with a lovely woman.
The thought brought a quick stab of guilt. He was violating not one but two of his staunchest rules; he never dated women with whom he worked, or the type of woman who was meant for marriage. Alissa was both.
He paused in the act of knotting his tie and looked at the telephone on his bedside table. He ought to call her and cancel their date, nip this thing in the bud now. She would probably be relieved, and he'd be saving them both a lot of grief.
Dirk's mouth tightened, and he jerked the knot into place, nearly choking himself. What the hell—it was just a friendly dinner. He wasn't making a lifetime commitment, for Pete's sake.
* * *
Chapter 4
« ^ »
Dirk took Alissa to the University Club, an exclusive private club whose membership was made up largely of high-ranking executives and Houston's elite. It was a place where ladies were presented with a long-stemmed red rose when they were seated and tuxedoed waiters hovered at a discreet distance, ready to serve the diner's every need. The paneled dining room had an opulent old-world, old-money atmosphere, an excellent combo that played soft dinner music, and superb food.
At least Alissa assumed it was. She sat across the candlelit table from Dirk and chewed her beef Wellington without really tasting it. Her attention was focused on him, on the way his eyes crinkled at the outer corners when he smiled, the fascinating way his sexy mouth moved as he talked, how the silvery hair at his temples grazed the tops of his ears.
She was still bemused by the rapid turn events had taken. Only that morning she had been dreading returning to work and facing Dirk again, and now here she was having dinner with him, carrying on a normal conversation—or at least trying to—as though that searing kiss in the middle of the dance floor the previous night had never happened.
She was so nervous she could barely concentrate. She hadn't been on a date in seventeen years. She'd never been out with a man like Dirk.
Tom Kirkpatrick had been a sweet man and a good husband, but he'd been a mild-mannered boy-next-door type. They had been high school sweethearts, and she had never really been serious about anyone else. While she had loved him dearly, it had been a gentle sort of love. With Tom, she had felt safe and contented.
Dirk did not inspire either of those feelings. She felt as though she were teetering on a precipice in a high wind. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. For once in her life, she was flirting with danger, and she felt reckless and daring and unbearably excited. And frightened.
She hid her vulnerability behind a calm expression, but inside her nerves were quivering and her heart was beating like a snare drum.
Still, somehow she managed to uphold her end of the conversation. Inevitably their talk turned to Tex-Con and their work.
There were three other vice presidents with the company, all years older than Dirk and with more seniority, but it was common knowledge that her boss was grooming him for the presidency. When Mr. Battle took charge of Tex-Con, it had been a small enterprise struggling to keep its doors open, but he had turned things around and built the company into a solid concern and a giant within the industry. When it came time for him to retire, he wanted someone young and vigorous to step into his shoes.
Early on, Henry had recognized Dirk's talents. He had a fine mind and a phenomenal ability to get things done, and he knew the business inside out.
In Alissa's opinion, Mr. Battle could not have chosen a better successor. Dirk had a commanding personality, a certain mysterious charisma, plus the knowledge and the temperament to handle the pressures of the job. He was impatient and demanding, it was true, but the few times she had seen him truly furious, his anger had taken the form of cutting iciness. A few well-chosen words and a look from those frosty eyes were enough to send the bravest soul scurrying for cover. Dirk's temper, though formidable, was kept under tight control.
In the beginning, they were a bit ill at ease with one another, but gradually, as the meal progressed, they began to relax, du
e in part, Alissa suspected, to the consumption of a few glasses of fine wine.
Over the years, both Alissa and Dirk had developed a keen understanding of the behind-the-scenes mechanics of office politics and the personalities and the motivations of the people involved, Alissa perhaps even more so than Dirk.
In her position as Mr. Battle's secretary, she was privy to all manner of confidential information, and her aura of cool efficiency engendered an automatic trust. People said all sorts of things to Mr. Battle in her presence without a qualm. It was as though she were invisible.
As a rule, Alissa was quiet and reserved, her approach to people and life in general cautious. Gradually, however, falling under the spell of Dirk's rough charm, she let down her guard. Before long, she was offering her opinion on various topics and they were chuckling together over some of the things that had happened at work.
Dirk was impressed by her knowledge and her acute insight. He leaned forward over the table, listening intently, his expression admiring as he watched the earnest animation in her lovely face. His flattering attention drew Alissa out, and her natural reticence fell away. She was enjoying herself so much she didn't give a thought to caution or protecting herself. She responded to Dirk on every level—emotionally, intellectually and physically—opening up to him like a blossom in the sun, her blue eyes sparkling in the candle's glow.
Eventually, as they grew more comfortable with one another and they ran out of shoptalk, their conversation turned from business to more personal topics.
"I'm curious," Dirk said quietly, after their plates had been cleared. He leaned back in his chair and sipped his after dinner coffee. "Why have you waited so long to start dating again? You're a very lovely woman, and you've been a widow for over a year. I'm sure there are men who are interested. Jack, for one. He was practically drooling all over your desk the other night."