She might be able to pull it together, if she never had to see him again. But if he stayed, came back to the office, would she really be able to deal with him professionally, without giving any outward indication of what had happened between them? And would he?
Of course he would, she thought. That was what he did best, divorce emotion from action. Only he hadn't seemed so divorced last night. I've never ached for anyone the way I ache for you. His words echoed through her mind, sent a shiver of sensation all the way through her. Had he meant it? Or had it been the passion of the moment? Maybe he said that to every woman he made love to?
The very thought of him touching anyone else made her fingernails dig into her palm. Made her want to lash out, dare anyone to even think about coming near her man. That very visceral reaction stunned her so thoroughly, she missed Dominic's answer.
"Fine, fine," Stephanie was saying. "I'll have the arrangements taken care of." She turned to Callie. "Why don't you head home, grab a few hours of sleep and freshen up. I wish I could give you the entire day, but I can't. I'm really sorry, it's—"
Callie held up her hand. "It's okay." And it was. She'd far rather be kept too busy to think right now. The idea of being all by herself, with nothing better to do than think about Dominic, held all the appeal of a multiple root canal. "I'll be back by one at the latest."
"I called a cab for you, if you don't feel up to driving yourself home."
"No, that won't be necessary." In fact, had it not been so far away, she'd have walked. She needed, desperately, to clear her head. She thought about the horse ranch out in Upperville where a friend of hers worked, who used to let her come out and exercise some of the horses on her days off. She hadn't had a day off in so long, she wondered if she'd still remember how to ride. And out of nowhere, a rather wicked grin curved her lips before she could stop it. No, she hadn't forgotten how to ride, she thought, remembering how she'd sat astride Dominic.
"Listen," Stephanie said, concern clear in her voice. "I'm packing you into that cab right now. You look like you're going to pass out on me here. Make sure you get something to eat, too, okay?"
Not the most maternal of women, Stephanie's concern touched Callie, but then she was being steered out the lobby doors to a waiting cab before she'd gotten a chance to say anything to Dominic, to even send a silent good-bye. Not that she'd have known what to say, silently or otherwise.
"But, Do—Mr. Colbourne," Callie stuttered. "What did—"
"We're meeting at his hotel this evening. He has a flight out to Denmark tonight that can't be changed, so we'll just have to wrap this up quickly." She stuffed Callie in the back of the cab. "Listen, I don't know what you said or did to keep things on level ground, but thank you for not letting him blow this deal off. I appreciate it." She grinned. "And I'll make sure that shows up when we discuss salary later." The door was closed before Callie could reply. Stephanie slapped the roof twice and the cabbie pulled away from the curb.
"Where to?" he asked.
Callie looked back at her office building in time to see Stephanie and Dominic in conversation as a sleek black limo pulled up to the curb. Her heart stuttered, then dropped. And cracked a little on impact.
"Good-bye, Dominic," she said, thankful at least that she wouldn't have to see him again. At least not so soon. Surely if the deal went through, their paths would cross in the future. But just as surely by then she'd have been able to put this all in perspective. "Yeah," she muttered, "if it's about a hundred years from now."
"I beg your pardon, Miss?"
Callie turned back to the driver and gave him directions to her apartment.
And missed the searing look that Dominic sent at her retreating cab when Stephanie finally turned away.
Chapter Seven
Dominic hadn't heard a single word Stephanie had said to him in the lobby earlier. His mind had been clouded with Callie. Thoughts of Callie, the scent of Callie … her vulnerabilities, her laughter … her whispers in the dark, her humor. Her innate strength. How had he stood there and just let her walk away?
He paced the floor of his penthouse hotel suite, ignoring the riveting view of the nation's capital, sprawled below him, just across the river. He'd repeatedly told himself since he'd gotten back here, that the whole thing was simply a result of that call from Isabella. But it wasn't news to him that he wasn't, what had Callie called it? "The most emotionally in tune man on earth." And yet, he'd been quite easily and thoroughly in tune with her. Still was. For Christ sake, he had millions of dollars and over a thousand jobs on the line with this merger with Stephanie, and what was he doing? Wondering what in the hell he could say to Callie to get her to give him a chance?
Yes, Dominic Colbourne was afraid he wasn't going to get the girl.
The only one he'd ever wanted.
But there were complications. His business deal, the fact that she worked for Stephanie. The fact that she was rebounding from a bad marriage, and he was rebounding from yet another failed romance. "Romance," he snorted. "Like you know the meaning of the bloody word."
He understood corporate strategy, but he'd never developed a strategy for relationships. Which might well be his problem, that he thought of it as some sort of campaign to be waged. He didn't want to "win" Callie. She wasn't some trophy to be collected. He wanted to—
He stopped dead in his tracks. "What in the hell do you want?" And the truth was, he didn't know. Beyond seeing her again, he had no idea what he wanted. To see her again after that, he supposed. And again. And again. Not just sexually. She said she rode horses. He'd never had the pleasure, but perhaps he could learn. That was something they could do together. Travel. He suspected she hadn't seen much of the world. He could show her that. The idea of seeing it through her eyes excited him in ways he hadn't felt in some time. And then it had been about some acquisition. Except she wasn't an acquisition.
He slumped down on the coffee table and raked his fingers through his hair. "Dear Christ, I'm lost." He propped his elbows on his knees and rubbed at the dull ache forming behind his forehead. An ache, he suspected, that had its roots not in fatigue, or even frustration. But something that felt a lot like fear. An emotion as foreign to him as love.
Love.
He straightened. Could it be this was his heart finally stirring to action? "Either that, or I've got an ulcer," he said, rubbing at the queer clench in his belly. He stood again, suddenly restless, unable to sit still, as the ramifications of this amazing discovery attacked all his senses. It was ludicrous, obviously, to fancy oneself infatuated with someone they'd only just met. Despite the wild night spent together, despite the screams of passion they'd shared, despite the fact that—"I can't get her out of my bloody lunatic mind."
He yanked at the tie that was suddenly too tight, clawed off his jacket and flung it on the couch, pacing more like the panther he'd been compared to, than the financial bigwig he'd become. What was he going to do about this? He had his meeting with Stephanie in—he glanced at his watch—three hours. A flight to catch a mere three hours after that. The clock was ticking and he felt perilously close to losing control. "What to do, what to do," he murmured, pacing to the bar and pouring himself a stiff two fingers of Scotch, then ignoring it to pace back to the thick sheet of glass that made up most of one wall.
He should let it go, he told himself, not seeing any of the lighted monuments below. Get on with what he did well and stop trying to become something he wasn't. Let Callie get on with the new life she was building, finish healing the wounds that bastard had inflicted on her. He'd be a bastard to try to forge some kind of relationship with her as he'd likely only be the next in line to hurt her when he royally screwed up. Which he would. Bloody hell. Since he knew not the first thing about pleasing a woman, not the way this demanded of him anyway. Keeping her satisfied required some kind of commitment on his part, and not just of time or money. Of himself. His heart, his head, his thoughts, even his dreams. He'd never shared that part of himself with anyo
ne. In fact, what little he'd told Callie in the elevator was more than he'd told Isabella during their entire relationship.
And that had come easily enough, hadn't it? a little voice nudged. He wanted to ignore it, because the fledgling little thread of hope attached to it was too risky to even contemplate. He laughed, but there was no humor in it. Risk. Since when had he run from that?
Since this morning, when he'd watched that taxi pull away from the curb. When he'd tried to tell himself he was doing her a favor by letting her go. That the pain in his chest had nothing to do with his heart, was merely a signal he'd gone too long without a meal.
Which merely triggered another round of images from their encounter in that elevator. When the only thing he'd wanted to consume had been her. Would he ever stop thinking about it, stop imagining what it would be like to spend endless hours with her, days, months. Years.
"Sod it," he growled, his control finally snapping. He stalked over to his private elevator, stabbing at the button. He stepped in, punched the button for the garage level, then squeezed his eyes shut as the doors silently closed, and the images assaulted him again. He needed to see her. Talk to her. That was all. One last time. So they'd both be able to walk away for good, get on with their lives, settle things between them. Because, bottom line, nothing felt settled right now. He was beginning to wonder if anything ever would again.
* * *
Callie sat at her small breakfast counter and stared at the phone in her hand. "You're overreacting." Saying it out loud didn't help. She still wanted to call Stephanie and tell her she wasn't coming in today. Or maybe any day. Not that it mattered. Stephanie would fire her for sure.
And it wasn't that she didn't want to risk seeing Dominic. She didn't, not yet, anyway. But if she had to face him, she would. No, this was bigger than that. Deeper than that. This went all the way to the core of what she really wanted. Who did she want to be? Where did she want to end up? Did she really want to end up like Stephanie, or even Dominic for that matter? Driven, focused, taking pleasure only in successes earned on the corporate playing field? Was she so willing and ready to give up her dreams of home and family?
The sad truth was yes, she had. Not because they weren't worthy goals, but because she honestly didn't want to risk reaching for them again, and losing. Because it meant too much to her. Climbing the corporate ladder was easier. She only had herself to deal with, only had her own limitations to overcome. Only had professional failure to risk.
She laid the phone down, but continued to stare at it. "What do you want?" She'd been so excited—had it only been last night? When Stephanie had offered her everything she thought she wanted. It was the answer to her dreams. Or was it? Certainly it was the answer to financial security. Was that enough? Was that really all she wanted?
All. It had seemed like so much when she'd taken the temporary job. So huge, so all-encompassing. But had it really just been a refuge?
"And if you don't figure this out in the next fifteen minutes, you're going to be late for work," she muttered.
Work. That was what had started this whole train of thought. Okay, so that was a lie. Dominic, and what they'd shared in that elevator last night was where the whole thing had really begun to unravel. But it wasn't until she was pulling on yet another "tidy little business dress," sliding her feet into her sensible pumps, brushing her hair into a corporate-acceptable style, that her unrest had truly begun to surface.
She'd wanted nothing more than to pull on her oldest jeans and get in her car—which she didn't even have as it was still in the underground parking lot at work—and drive west toward the Blue Ridge mountains, head to her pal Sally's farm and beg her for a mount for the afternoon. And when she realized that not only was she not going to go riding today, but not tomorrow, or the next day, or the next week, or probably the next six months, she began to wonder why she'd so quickly traded her entire life for corporate success.
"Because it was the only kind of success I could actually measure," she said quietly. And this time, saying it out loud did help. She did enjoy her job, but not at the expense of her entire life. Yes, a paycheck brought stability, security, confidence, along with the gratitude and sense of worthiness she'd been in search of. And she'd proven she could have all of those things. Did have them.
And now that she did? "I want my life back," she said on a laugh. "Christ, you're a basket case." Or worse. Because she wanted more than her life back. She wanted Dominic Colbourne in it.
She stared at the phone. Did she really dare? Was she fighting for her life, or making the biggest idiotic decision of her life? Stephanie's offer gave her the validation she'd thought she needed. So, why was it that validation no longer seemed all that important? Maybe the fact that she'd earned it was enough. She could go back to temping, moving around to different companies, helping them out when they needed it, making some friends along the way, then moving on. She'd truly enjoyed that, but had never considered the benefits. It wouldn't make her rich, but it paid the bills. And, more important, she had the personal time to spend with those friends. At least, she would know that she realized she needed them more than she needed a new title or a fancy retirement plan.
And it had only taken six hours in an elevator with one man to figure all that out. Okay, that, a half a box of Hostess cupcakes and a great deal of soul-searching.
She picked up the phone and stared at it. Maybe the true meaning of success was knowing what made you happy, and going after it. Being willing to work hard at it, being confident enough not to be swayed by anyone else's definition of happiness or success, and being determined enough to fight for it. And, her little voice nudged, if that's good enough for your professional goals … shouldn't the same apply to your personal ones?
Dominic's image punched through her thoughts, and her newfound confidence flagged momentarily. She did want him. Wanted to know him better, spend more time with him, find out what he wanted and what would make him happy. From what he'd said last night, she suspected it wasn't absorbing yet another corporation, or moving up another notch on the Forbes list.
But could it be something as elemental as being with her?
She laughed. Okay, so she wasn't that sure of herself yet. And, even if she was, how would she go about letting the man know she wanted him? Maybe you could start by telling him.
Her heart began to pound. Could she really do that? "Will you ever forgive yourself if you don't?" The worst he could do was blow her off. Sure, her heart would shatter into a million pieces, but hell, she'd recovered from some major body blows in the past, right? She blew out a shaky breath. "Yeah. Right."
She tapped her fingers against the number buttons, her pulse continuing to accelerate as she allowed herself to truly consider going after everything she wanted. Everything.
Risk.
What the hell. It was only her whole life, right?
"I am nuts," she said, feeling a distinct craving for cream-filled chocolate coming on. "Certi-freaking-fiable." And yet, when she glanced up at the tiny mirror hanging over the counter, she saw she was grinning. Realized that, if she did this, for the first time in what felt like forever, and maybe it was, she would truly be the one driving the train.
She stabbed the speed dial for Stephanie's private line before she lost her nerve. When her boss answered, she took a deep breath … and turned down the job offer.
She hung up minutes later, feeling slightly nauseous, but that was more because of the phone call she'd yet to make. She punched in information and asked for the number of Dominic's hotel. Then decided this was something better done in person and dialed a taxi service and ordered a cab instead. A quick run to the bedroom to change back into jeans and a T-shirt—after all, if things were going to go anywhere with Dominic, he might as well see her as she really was, right off the bat. She was all thumbs, shaky with nerves and anticipation at the thought of seeing him again. "Think positive, think positive," she murmured, digging under her bed for her other sneaker.
>
She dragged a brush through her hair, not daring to actually look in the mirror, for fear of chickening out entirely. But she'd just turned down a probable six-figure job, what the hell else did she have to lose?
Everything, her heart answered. But if she didn't try, then she'd already lost, hadn't she?
Her doorbell buzzed just as she dashed back into her living room to find her purse. "Wow, a gallant cabbie. I didn't think they even got out of the cab anymore."
"I'll be right there," she called out.
She grabbed her purse and glanced out the window on her way to the door … just in time to see the cab drive off.
"What the—?" She yanked open the front door, not that she could have run the guy down, but still—and froze.
"Hi."
She tried not to swallow her tongue. "Uh … hi."
"I hope you don't mind. I sent your cab away."
"Yeah. I mean no. I mean, I was just coming to—" She stopped and shook her head, then reached out to touch his arm. Just to make sure she wasn't on some sort of sugar-induced fantasy trip. She laughed a bit nervously. It was that or just yank him full body into her arms. "Just want to make sure I'm not hallucinating."
Dominic grinned. And it was so far beyond what she'd imagined in the dark, she felt her whole body grow damp. "Good hallucinating or bad hallucinating?"
She pressed a hand to her chest, willing her heart to settle into a speed her body could accommodate without exploding. She didn't think that was going to happen anytime soon. "Good," she said, then let out a whooshing breath as she laughed again. "I can't believe you're here."
BAD BOYS ON BOARD Page 16