by Robyn Carr
It never did.
The next morning she rose at six. She took a long walk down city streets that were already clogging up with cars. Around eight, she stopped for breakfast at an outdoor café. She ate croissants and poached eggs, sitting next to a potted palm beneath a Cinzano umbrella. Then she returned to her room—to find she had no messages.
She waited until nine-thirty. And then she grabbed her purse and headed for Inkerris, Incorporated, one more time.
Sin stared out the window behind his desk at the spectacular view of Century City as Rob Taylor filled him in on yesterday’s messages and today’s appointments.
“Oh, and I almost forgot,” Rob said when the endless list had seemed to be finished. “Some young woman came to see you.” Rob sighed, sounding put-upon. “She was very persistent. A Ms. Jones. Ms. Sophie B. Jones.”
Sin spun his chair around. “When was she here?”
Rob blinked. “Yesterday. In the afternoon. She—”
“Did she leave a number?”
Rob fell back a step. “Well, yes. That is, she left a card, with the name of her—”
“Give it to me.”
“I—”
“You do have it?”
“Yes. Of course. That is, I gave it to Tessa to look up the number.”
“What number?”
“The number of her hotel.”
“What hotel?”
“Helmswood Arms, I believe.”
Sin grabbed the phone and buzzed the receptionist.
Rob kept babbling. “Honestly. If I had known—”
He waved his assistant to silence. “Tessa, do you have the number of that hotel where Sophie Jones is staying?”
“Of course, Mr. Riker. Just a minute.” Sin waited, glaring at Rob, wanting to scream at poor Tessa to snap it up. Finally she spoke again. “Here it is. Shall I call it for—”
“No. Give it to me.”
“Certainly. 555-3072.”
He disconnected Tessa and punched up the number, growling Sophie’s name as soon as a voice said, “Helmswood Arms.”
“One moment, please.” He heard a line ringing. Five rings, and then the hotel operator came back on. “I’m sorry. She’s not answering. Would you care to—”
“What’s your address there?” He grabbed a pen and scribbled it down, then slammed the phone back in its cradle and once more turned his attention on the hapless Rob. “I’m going over there. Now.”
“Yes. Of course. Whatever.”
“If she comes back here, you ask her to wait and you call me on my cell. Is that clear?”
“Yes. Perfectly.”
Sin was already striding for the door. He paused only to bark over his shoulder. “I mean it, Rob. Give her coffee. Give her caviar. Give her whatever the hell she wants. But if she comes here, do not let her go until I get back.”
Rob was still swearing he’d handle everything as Sin slammed out the door.
Sophie entered the lobby of Inkerris, Incorporated, at nine-forty-five. This time, she had sense enough to head straight for the elevators before Jerry, behind the information desk, caught so much as a glimpse of her. The lobby was busier that time of day than it had been the afternoon before. The up light was already on. She waited with several preoccupied-looking button-down types for the mirrored doors to slide open.
When they finally did, Sin was standing inside.
Sophie’s heart went racing. Her feet felt cold and her face felt hot. Neither she nor Sin moved an inch as the button-down types bustled around them, getting on and off the elevator car.
A thousand unreconciled emotions did battle inside her. He looked so unbelievably handsome, more handsome than she remembered, if that was possible. And he was so perfectly dressed, in a dark gray silk suit and a blue shirt and a tie of some deep, rich indefinable color between blue and black.
He looked…urbane and sophisticated. And certainly not the kind of man who could be interested in her, not in a hundred thousand years.
Oh, what had possessed her to come here? They’d shared five days—or, more specifically, five magical nights.
But looking at him now, here in the marble and glass confines of his own world, she just couldn’t believe that those days and nights had meant anything near as much to him as they had to her.
Just then the doors started to close.
Sin shouted, “Hold that door!”
But it was too late. The doors kept on sliding together. He commanded, “Sophie. Stay there.” And then the doors shut all the way, with him inside—and her still standing there, staring at the place where he had been.
“Stay there,” he had said.
She supposed he meant he would come back down on the next car. She hoped that was what he meant. Or maybe he had meant, stay there—and away from me.
Well, it didn’t matter. Laying eyes on him again had left her feeling a little unsteady, anyway. Staying there for a while would suit her fine.
A small marble bench stood against the section of wall between the two banks of elevators. Sophie stumbled over and dropped down onto it.
The seconds ticked by like centuries. At last Sin’s elevator car descended again, the doors opened and he stepped out. Sophie stood from the bench. He turned and saw her there.
For a moment, when his eyes met hers, she thought everything would be all right after all. They would run to each other across the black marble floor. He would sweep her into his arms. All their differences would simply melt away….
For his part, at that moment, Sin felt exactly the same.
But then skepticism took over.
There might be any number of reasons she had come here to find him. He decided he’d be wise to approach her carefully until he understood better what was really going on.
As Sin decided to proceed with caution, Sophie felt the moment of hope fade away. Once again, he was simply that incredibly handsome, sophisticated stranger who couldn’t possibly be interested in someone like her.
He started toward her, his stride purposeful and his eyes wary. She had no idea what he intended to do, until he reached her and held out his hand.
“How are you, Sophie?”
They shook. Like two casual acquaintances. She felt his touch all the way to her toes, at the same time as she made her lips turn up in a polite smile that pretended she didn’t feel anything at all.
“I’m doing all right. How about you?”
He shrugged and, to her sincere regret, released her hand. “I’m all right, too.” Behind him, the button-down types came and went from the elevator cars. “I meant what I said, Sophie.” He had lowered his voice a little. “I won’t take your Mountain Star.”
She looked at him levelly. “Yes. I…believe that now.”
“Then what brings you here?”
I love you, and I want you to come back to me! her heart cried. But how could she blurt that out here, by the elevators, with all those busy people milling around a few feet away?
“Is there a problem at the ranch?”
She hesitated, her mind all caught up in what she longed to say, what she was afraid to say. “A…problem?”
“Something you came to see me about?”
Now it seemed to her that some of the button-down types were beginning to stare. “I wonder…could we go somewhere a little more private, do you think?”
“Of course.” He started to reach for her hand—she could have sworn that he did. But then he only touched her on the shoulder. “Come with me.” He turned for the elevators again. She followed after him.
They got on the elevator with two young, well-dressed women. “Good morning, Mr. Riker,” the women chirped, almost in unison.
“Good morning, Sarah. Danielle.” He nodded, so polite, so correct. A king dispensing the favor of his attention on his subjects.
Sarah and Danielle got off on the fifth floor. Sin and Sophie rode the rest of the way up in an awkward silence that made the close space seem way too small.
It was a relief when the doors opened onto the penthouse reception area.
Tessa looked up from her keyboard. She smiled.
“We’ll be in the west conference room.” Sin put his hand at the small of Sophie’s back, causing the skin there, even beneath the layers of clothing, to burn—making her whole body tighten and yearn. “See that we aren’t disturbed.”
“I’ll do that,” Tessa promised.
Sin looked at Sophie. “Can I have Tessa bring you anything?”
She wished he’d take his hand away—she wished he’d never let go. “Anything?” she repeated idiotically.
“Coffee? A sweet roll?”
“Coffee,” she said automatically, because it seemed like something she ought to say, though she’d had two cups at breakfast and that was more than enough.
“I’ll bring it right in,” Tessa promised.
Sin exerted the slightest pressure on Sophie’s back—guiding her forward toward the tall mahogany doors. Once through them, they went down a wood-paneled hallway to another pair of double doors. He ushered her through.
The room they entered had a huge, diamond-shaped table in the center of it, with leather chairs all around. There were three sofas along the walls, and chairs and low tables grouped around them—for more informal meetings, she supposed. One wall was solid glass. It afforded a panoramic view of the well-groomed Century City streets below.
Sin guided her to a sofa and chairs near that wall of glass. “Have a seat.”
Really, she wanted to stand. She had such a strong feeling of unreality about all of this. She’d come to talk of love—and here they were about to have what felt like some sort of business meeting. Still, to remain on her feet would only make her look as apprehensive as she felt. She dropped into one of the chairs.
Just then a small door down at the other end of the room opened. Tessa came in, carrying a coffee service on a black lacquer tray. She hurried over and set it on a low table about a foot from where Sophie sat perched on her chair.
Efficiently, Tessa poured. She arched a brow at Sophie. “Sugar? Cream?”
“No, black is fine.”
She passed Sophie the cup and saucer, which started rattling the moment Sophie got them in her hand. She slid them onto the table in front of her, stifling a sigh of relief when the clattering stopped.
“Mr. Riker?” Tessa held up the pot for him.
“No, thanks. That’s all, Tessa.”
Tessa set down the pot and left them alone.
Sin was still standing, leaning a little against a credenza not far from the sofa. Sophie felt a flash of resentment. He’d asked her to sit. And yet he remained in the superior position on his feet, looming over her.
“You’re not drinking your coffee,” he remarked quietly.
She reached out, plucked the cup from the saucer and took a sip that burned the back of her throat when she swallowed. Somehow she managed not to completely humiliate herself by having a choking fit right there in front of him.
She set the cup down.
He crossed his arms over his chest.
And she remembered that first night—the two of them, standing by the twin sinks in the back room of her barn-theater. He had leaned against the sink then, just exactly as he leaned against that credenza now…“What is it, Sophie? What can I do for you?”
She thought, I love you. Do you love me?
But she couldn’t say it. She didn’t know how to say it. Not anymore. Not here, not now. Not to this urbane, sophisticated man. And not in the west conference room on the penthouse floor.
“Sophie?” He looked puzzled—and maybe a little concerned. “Please. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
And she heard herself announcing, “Listen, I have a deal for you.”
She waited for him to laugh out loud.
But instead, he lifted a dark brow and actually looked interested. “Oh, really?”
“Yes. Really. I wonder, would you consider becoming my partner in the Mountain Star?”
Chapter 13
Sophie could not believe she had said that—but now that it was out, she decided she would just go with it. Until he turned her down, which he surely would. Then she could slink away like the complete coward she was.
He was watching her, the consummate businessman, revealing nothing, willing to let her play her whole hand. She picked up her coffee cup, took a second, much more careful sip and set it back down. “I mean, I understood you had planned to live there anyway, right? Back when you were…” How to say it diplomatically? “…hoping to convince me to give up my lease?”
“Yes,” he agreed, looking reasonably serious, as if he actually were considering this outrageous “deal” she was making up as she went along. “That was my plan.”
“So, that would mean that you must have your affairs pretty much in order here.” At the word affairs, she thought of Willa Tweed and had to hold back a slightly hysterical laugh.
Sin wasn’t thinking of Willa at all.
He said, “That’s true.”
And it was. Since he’d left Nevada County—and Sophie—Sin had been trying to figure out what the hell to do next. Inkerris, Incorporated, was now virtually run by his former second-in-command, who had plans to buy Sin out completely within the next couple of years. In the past few weeks, since his return, Sin hadn’t bothered to change those plans. He had realized he was ready to move on to something different.
But a partnership with Sophie? She couldn’t be serious. And he had to be losing his mind to even consider such a suggestion. He had wanted the ranch to himself. That had been the whole point.
She forged ahead. “What I’ve been thinking is, well, maybe we could work out a way that we both end up getting what we want.”
He prodded her on. “And what way is that?”
“Well, as I said, I was thinking of kind of a…” She gulped, as if the next word had gotten stuck in her throat.
He helped her with it. “A partnership, you said. A partnership between you and me.”
“Yes. That’s what I said. Is that crazy?”
“Well…”
“You think it’s crazy.”
“Sophie, I didn’t say that.”
She went for broke. “You know how you were always saying you’d like to build yourself another house? Well, you could do that. You could. Remember that meadow, the one with the wild roses?”
He nodded.
“Well, that would be a beautiful place for a house. And it’s over that little hill from the other buildings. So the construction noise shouldn’t carry too badly.”
The developer inside him immediately began thinking of access roads, of septic systems, of getting power out there. But none of that should be too much of a problem. It wasn’t that far away from the other buildings, or from paved road. And the meadow she referred to was beautiful.
She was frowning. “Maybe you don’t like that spot.”
“No. I like it. It’s a beautiful spot.”
“But you don’t want to do it.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But I—”
“Sophie, exactly what do you mean by a partnership?”
“Well, maybe you don’t want a partnership.”
“I didn’t say that. I asked what kind of a partnership you’re talking about.”
It was clear from the dazed look on her face that she hadn’t the faintest idea.
He heard himself suggesting for her, “You could use an investor more than a partner.”
“Uh…tell me more.”
“Someone who would finance the improvements you need—Myra’s new kitchen, a new projector for that theater of yours.…”
“You mean, I would still run things and you’d take a percentage of the profits in exchange for putting money into the Mountain Star?”
“That’s the general idea.”
She scrunched up her sweet face.
“What?” he demanded. “What are you thinking?”
&
nbsp; “Well, Sin, you have to know that there aren’t really enough profits to get excited about.”
Yet he was getting excited. “There could be profits. If you added on to the main house, so that you wouldn’t have to turn people away in the busy season. And if you expanded the stables and hired men to work with Caleb, so you could enlarge that boarding service of yours.”
She murmured faintly, “Add on to the main house? Expand the stables?”
He backed off a little. “We wouldn’t have to do everything right away. We could…take it slow. Fix the kitchen, buy that projector…”
“Yes, yes, of course we could.” Now she was sitting forward on the edge of her chair, her chin tipped up and her hands folded in her lap. Sin thought he’d never seen such an enchanting sight.
But go into partnership with her? It could never work.
Then again, why in hell would she offer such a thing—unless she had hopes that the two of them might rediscover what they’d lost?
Which they couldn’t, of course. They were miles apart now—if they ever really had been that close.
But still, he might be of use to her. At the very least he should be able to get her to fix up that damn kitchen and put a new roof on the main house.
Take it slow. That was the best way. “Maybe I should come up there—for a few days or a week. Nothing formal, right now.”
She looked more confused than ever. “Nothing formal?”
“I mean, we won’t actually form a legal partnership yet. Nothing on paper. I’ll just come and stay for a while. We’ll really look into what needs to be done around there. And I’ll check into your idea of building a house in that meadow you mentioned.”
A few days or a week, Sophie thought. It wasn’t a bad idea. Surely in that time, they could begin to find their way back to each other—or she could start learning to accept that it hadn’t worked out.
He was saying, “We could see how well we work together. How we…get along. What would you say to something like that?”
She hardly knew what to say. It wasn’t exactly what she’d come here for. But it was a whole lot better than nothing. She put on a bright smile. “I think it’s a great idea. When can you come?”