Romance in Dallas - Tycoon!

by Nancy Fornataro

  With every kiss, the heavy sensation between her legs increased and needed release. She felt his hand stroking her hair softly, as the kisses intensified, from soft to hard, to almost punishing.

  But his movements stilled, decreased, before he said, "We need to talk, Jace."

  Her eyes came up and met his.

  He sighed, and continued stroking her hair. "This will complicate our lives."

  "I see," she said, still a bit breathless, "I certainly would hate to complicate your life, Ram," she told him before she sat up.

  "You're not understanding what I'm sayin'."

  Hugging her knees, she said, "I understand exactly what you're saying. And I agree totally." She rose and walked into the cabin and lay on the couch with her face towards the cushions.

  "Jace-" he began, as he followed her.

  She held her hand up.

  "Damn it, look at me." He sat next to her now.

  "I can't look at you because then I'll want to sleep with you and you don't want to sleep with me."

  "You haven't read me very well, then," he said dryly, "I just think people should talk about it first."

  She turned to face him angrily. "I wasn't about to go all the way with you. I'm in control of myself on that. Total control."

  He smiled, and thought she'd just contradicted herself in a very endearing and interesting way. "Well, I don't. Have control, I mean." His tone softened, "Every time I look at you, I want you. But every time I want you, I see my wife's face looking at me accusingly."

  Frowning, she replied, "I didn't know."

  "You lost your Gram. And you think of her probably every day."

  She nodded.

  Running a hand through his hair, he sighed. "It's a similar thing, I guess. I don't know how to move on with my life. I've been struggling with it since the day she died. I just feel so responsible. If I had just held the steering wheel the way I should have, instead of so casually, I could have banked left and away from the speeder in the other car. If I'd had more control at that minute, in those seconds, she'd be alive today."

  "What was her name?" Jace asked softly.

  "Susan."

  "And the picture on your computer. That's Susan?"

  "Yes. She was an artist, extremely successful. Her works were really in demand. They still are. Critically acclaimed in the art world." Now, his eyes held a far away look.

  "Let's talk about it," she told him, as she moved to the captain's chair.

  His haunted turquoise eyes raked over her as he sat in the opposite chair. "Yes, we'll talk."

  Chapter 8

  Victoria sat in first class on the airplane, heading for Nassau, wishing she had her own plane like Ramsey. After she'd given the stewardess a mouthful of curses and diatribes, which she really knew the woman deserved, she pulled out the newspaper article and picture where she'd kissed Ram. How she remembered his lips, and the enticing scent of his aftershave. Not to mention how handsome and self-assured he'd been at the fund raiser.

  She just didn't know where to go from here to get his attention. She'd told a few members of the ever-present paparazzi where Ram was headed, after she'd overheard it come from the pilots lips as he chatted with someone in the coffee shop of Ram's hotel.

  Smiling now, she thought information was so easily obtained on Ram. People didn't recognize Victoria as she donned various wigs and disguises. She did her best lurking that way, as well as fact finding.

  "Would you like a drink, Miss Halliwell?" the stewardess asked her.

  "Yes please," Victoria snapped, "champagne, your finest."

  Of course, she thought, if she were in Ram's nice jet, he would be serving her, along with bedroom servicing. She sighed, and let her imagination run wild.

  Ramsey's plane landed in Nassau in the wee hours of the morning. Both he and Jace were exhausted, but he thought that was due to their extended conversation. They'd spoken about everything, his loss of Susan, Warren, Natalie, Ann and Lee her PT partners, some of her most difficult patients, problems at his hotels, and much more.

  She'd worked on his back, massaged him eventually and he was grateful for that. He told her it always felt better after she worked the knots out of his muscles.

  Now, he stroked her hair absentmindedly as they went through customs.

  "Where is your hotel?" she asked on the taxi ride.

  "Right on the beach. You'll love it. The beaches here are really so pristine, a beautiful blue color. You can frolic and swim while I slave away at umpteen meetings with my staff."

  He grabbed her hand and kissed it.

  "Sounds like you're feeling sorry for yourself," she laughed.

  Smiling, he said, "Just save some time for me."

  Jace looked around as she walked with him into the hotel lobby. The ceilings, she thought, must have been sixty feet high, and sported painted murals in muted colors. Gigantic palms were placed around, along with etched marble columns. A huge sparkling chandelier hung in the middle of the entranceway. The walls were also murals, and the floor tiles shiny dark marble.

  She noticed an atrium bar, along with huge fish tanks, holding all variety of bright blue, yellow and pink tropical fish.

  Ram was on his phone, as usual, and motioned her to sit and wait for him.

  Next, she heard snatches of his conversation with a broadly smiling chocolate-colored manager. The unusual, lilting Bahamian dialect was lovely she thought.

  A porter took their bags, while they rode an elevator up to the room. Unfortunately, it was a speed elevator and her belly lurched.

  "I think my stomach's still down there," she told Ram.

  Laughing, he replied, "Sorry. I should have warned you."

  But, as she entered the penthouse, she gasped. "Oh, Ram. It's lovely."

  The living room was spacious, sporting muted beige couches and chairs, with matching patterned seat-back pillows. There were numerous potted large-leaf ferns, glass tables, a dining table with four mahogany chairs, on the balcony four casual chairs and another glass table, along with lounge chairs and a blue shade umbrella.

  "Oh!" she exclaimed as she walked on the balcony. The view below held miles of pristine, white beaches and aquamarine water with small waves lapping, moored large speed boats at a dock further down, along with tall swaying palm trees. A swimming pool lay below, arching its way around lounge chairs and blue shade umbrellas, with palms and red flowers.

  She was fairly speechless, and with her hand held against her mouth, turned to Ram. "Oh, my," she finally managed.

  He laughed, as he clicked his phone closed. "Your eyes are like saucers. I'm glad you like it."

  She half-fell into a chair, still looking around at the suite.

  "Can I get you anything?" He walked over to the mini-bar in the corner, next to a compact kitchen.

  "When is the last time you took a pain pill?" she asked.

  "It's worn off already, unfortunately."

  She noticed he had limped on the way up to the room. "Don't mix the two. That can be very dangerous."

  He turned and crossed his arms, while he gazed at her. "It won't kill me. Now, what would you like? Mixed drink? Soft drink? Coffee? Tea? Me?"

  Watching him lounge, she grew warm just thinking about their closeness the day before. "I'll have vodka. Straight up."

  Then she thought she should kick herself. After all, it was morning. "I'll throw caution to the wind," she added.

  "Don't worry," he said, as if reading her mind while he popped the vodka bottle top, "you'll have time to sleep it off."

  He poured one for himself, returning to her now. "There you go. Actually, a little later today, because I have so many meetings and things to catch up on, I've booked you for a spa treatment."

  "I've never been to a spa before," she said.

  "My wife used to like it..." his voice trailed off and he sat down stiffly on the chair across from her.

  "It's all right," she said softly, "you can talk about her."

  And, they did
for a while. Jace found out Ram met Susan at an art opening, where her paintings were displayed. He'd married her a few months after that.

  Jace noticed his conversation didn't go near the accident or its causes. He just spoke of their life together. And, she couldn't help feeling a tug of remorse for him and herself as well, while jealousy pulled at her.

  Ram left an hour later, dressed in a nice suit, and he pecked her on the cheek before he left. "We're going to Club Satire tonight for dinner. Upscale, kind of trendy. I think you'll like it."

  Feeling glum, she called and got directions to the spa.

  Once there, she met the owner, Mari, a slight, dark-haired young woman who showed her the massage area, the showers and whirlpool tub, hairdressing area and manicure with pedicure stations.

  "We'll start with the hair," the slim director said, as her fingers combed through Jace's curls.

  She washed then conditioned Jace's hair, talking the whole time.

  "So," she said, "you're here with Ramsey?"

  "Yes," Jace replied, loving the feel of the head massage the woman gave as she washed and rinsed her hair.

  "Okay," the woman said, "so this conditioner is awesome, it's made from all natural ingredients, oils and herbs. We'll leave it on for a while. I'll just wrap this towel around it. So, back to Ramsey, how is he really?"

  She led Jace to the massage area. "Define 'really,'" Jace answered, while she stripped nonchalantly then lay face down on the cushioned table.

  "You know, I'll never tell, in the sack and all that?"

  "Oh," Jace said, as the woman began massaging her expertly, working out her kinks, "I don't know."

  Stopping for seconds, the woman said, "You're kidding, right? You travel with this stud guy, I won't even get into the build on that beauty, and I'm not even figuring in his net worth, and you've never...wow, I'm amazed."

  "That's not why I'm with him. I'm actually doing his physical therapy."

  "Oh wow, you're a therapist. How cool. I'd like to get the education one of these days."

  "You've got a lot of talent," Jace replied, "you're making me feel like a million dollars right now."

  "Thanks, sugar. I really like to do this, the massage that is. I feel like I'm doing some good."

  Jace laughed, "I know you're doing me a ton of good."

  After the massage, and an herbal facial, Mari gave her a manicure. "Wow, your nails are great," she said, "long, and looks like you take good care of them."

  Jace picked out a dark red nail polish color just for fun. She usually didn't wear polish, but she liked this hue. The pedicure followed with the same color. And Mari filled her in on Club Satire and the type of dress to wear.

  After showering and rinsing the conditioner out of her hair, Jace sat as Mari blow dried her hair then scrunched it up again in her hands, making long curls.

  "Mari," Jace said on her way out, "thanks so much for everything. Like I said, you made me feel like a million."

  "You're welcome sugar." She winked at Jace. "Have fun."

  Back at their penthouse, Jace applied her make-up carefully, with eye-shadow, mascara, blush and red lipstick which matched her nails.

  She noticed it was almost six o'clock, and Ram had said six, so she rushed to get dressed.

  Ram found it hard to hold his temper with the men in his meeting, who droned on and on. Finally, looking pointedly at his watch, he said, "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for the update, and I appreciate all your efforts. If there is anything we didn't cover today, be here tomorrow, just give a call."

  As it was well after six o'clock now, he called Jace on his way upstairs. "I know, I know, late again. Sorry sweet pea. The meeting ran over."

  She sounded distracted, as she said, "Oh, Ram. Yes, that' okay, I was just surfing the net a bit, researching something."

  "See you in a few."

  But little did he know just exactly what that meant, what Jace would look like fixed up for 'trendy.'

  He let himself in with the room key, and stood rooted in his tracks.

  Jace wore a sleeveless form-hugging, short, black sequined dress, with black stockings, high heels, and a bit of garter belt showing as she sat at the glass table with her legs crossed. She looked startled, glanced up at him, and his breath came out in a long sigh.

  He thought she looked extraordinarily good. Her eyes, smoky brown, almost seemed like cats eyes, tilted up, and her generous lips dark red and sensuous in a slight pout. But her hair, he thought, was shining like a cloud around her body, curly, reaching almost to her waist.

  "Ahm...You look...so..." but he just couldn't even say how she looked, not out loud, he just wanted to file the memory to take out later and remember her just like this moment in time.

  Jace watched, smiling at him, as a grin came on his face. His eyes roved over her, as she tugged on the hem of her dress. He'd noticed her one weakness, how she liked to dress in a garter belt with stockings. It was one part of her femininity no one could take from her.

  Laughing, shaking his head, he headed towards the shower, saying, "Hot damn."

  And, she thought, as they rode down in the elevator, he was the one who was hot and bothered. They were alone, and his hand rested on her back, by her waist, moved to her hair, stroking the length of it, and his hand moved down to caress her buttocks as he said, "You look beautiful tonight." His hand rolled over the back garter, then back up to rest on her waist again.

  "You look nice, too," she said honestly as she looked up at him. He wore a grey shirt, a few buttons undone at the neck, black slacks and shoes. She'd noticed this before, that he wore his clothes really gracefully, with his ever present Rolex watch.

  She saw both their reflections in the elevator mirrors, and saw the heated look coming from him. "I'll have to dress up more often," she joked.

  "Ummm," he said softly, as his lips kissed her neck.

  The doors opened then, and he stopped, walking into the hallway with her, as if nothing had ever happened.

  A taxi took them to Club Satire, and she noticed as they entered the place, just a slight wave from Ram brought them an intimate nook in the restaurant area.

  Victoria thought if looks could kill, the woman she stared at would be dead. Deader than a door knob. She'd worn a short red wig tonight especially to catch Ram's attention, make him think about his dead wife, but so far, he just had eyes for that brunette he'd been with lately. And, watching the woman, she had to admit she was a real piece of work with the long hair and short skirt.

  Hell, Victoria had the lipo done recently, and the surgeon did a wonderful job on lines of fat on her abdomen and thighs, reducing them, and she'd show Ram if he'd ever pay her the slightest bit of attention. She thought the brunette must be sleeping with him. And the way Ram looked at the woman! As if he was positively smitten. Her thoughts wandered to what sex with Ram would be like. All that southern charm, put to good use.

  She pulled out her small date calendar from her purse. Tomorrow night at his ballroom here in town, the Nassau Manor House. For charity, she hadn't written which one. But what would she do if he brought the brunette? She always tried to anticipate disasters, not really one to wing it. She'd sit down tonight and figure all angles for this thing.

  After they'd eaten a sumptuous seafood feast, Jace and Ram walked into the club and bar area. A DJ was playing some great music, Jace thought, as they were seated at a front table.

  "So tell me," Jace said, after they'd ordered drinks, "do you own this place? They treat you like royalty."

  He smiled. "You could say I helped a friend from the island to open it." And, he indicated a man behind the bar, talking with the bartender.

  A slow song came on, and Ram grabbed her hand, pulled her close, and led her very gracefully over the dance floor. But, as the tune played on, he slowed his pace, and his hand came down on her buttocks, drawing her even closer.

  Jace could feel his excitement and felt the thrill of having him so close to her.

  "You are
so hot tonight," he whispered against her cheek, "I don't even have the words."

  She was carried away with the sensations, the heady scent of his aftershave, his hard thighs against hers, and her arms tightened around the back of his neck.

  Neither one noticed the photographers quickly snapping their picture from all angles.

  "Let's go," he said with a smile, as the song ended, "I need physical therapy."

  She laughed at his transparency as they climbed into the taxi.

  In the elevator, he grabbed around her waist, pulling her close again, kissing her deeply, tongue roving inside her mouth, in and out, quickly, as if he couldn't get enough of her. Her senses reeled with the feel of him, feelings she thought were long gone.

  "All right," she laughed, as he opened the penthouse door, "where's my PT table? What have you done with it?" She took off her heels.

  But the urgent look on his face made her smile fade, as she looked up at him. His turquoise eyes held hers for a moment, before he led her into his bedroom. "You can work on me in here," he said softly, unbuttoning his shirt.

  After he'd shucked off his pants, with his excitement showing now, she said, "I really should change, Ram."

  "No," he whispered urgently, "like that. Just like you are."

  Ram lay face down on the bed, as her capable hands began kneading him as she sat next to him. His hands roved down to her legs and her small feet, then, he couldn't stand it anymore, and he pulled her on top of him, hands roving along her backside.

  He drew her dress up by her waist, but as he smoothed her skin, and moved below, he realized she had no panties on.

  "Christ," he moaned, while his fingers moved in and out of her, feeling her readiness, her bud, then back inside her again. Her muscles contracted around his fingers, as he explored, making her cry out.