Winds of Heaven

by Karen Toller Whittenburg

  His smile was easy, understanding, sincere. “My pleasure.”

  What might have been a trite rejoinder from someone else was a simple, believable statement from Nick. My pleasure. How had he made such a meaningless phrase convey so much?

  My God, Kylie! She snapped her gaze to the front of the car. Next you’ll be hearing music when he speaks, she scolded herself. Forcing the ridiculous tilt of her lips to a more sober angle, she resolutely stared out the window and managed to control the impulse to laugh when Nick clicked on the radio.

  A soft symphonic melody drifted around her and brought her attention back to him. How wonderful that they had the same taste in music. “You must be a native,” she said. “Or a frequent visitor.”

  Curiosity hovered on the arch of one dark brow. “Both, actually. I was born and raised here, and I’m often here on business.” His smile was teasing. “But how did you know?”

  “Elementary deduction, Dr. Watson.” She made a grand gesture toward the dash. “Rental car, classical music. Not too many people could find that radio station on the dial unless they were familiar with the area.”

  “How do you know it wasn’t already tuned to that station, Sherlock?”

  Kylie met his eyes. “Was it?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “That’s what I thought. To be honest, though, I already had an idea you were a regular traveler to Santa Fe. On the plane this evening I thought—”

  “Were you on the commuter flight from Denver? With me?” His incredulity was unmistakable. “That’s impossible.”

  She couldn’t help laughing then. “Impossible maybe, but true.”

  Nick shook his head disbelievingly as he braked the car, then made a smooth left turn. “I’ve definitely been working too hard. And to think if I had arrived earlier for that flight, I could have sat with you, and I would have had more time to get to know you.”

  It would take a strong woman to resist that line, Kylie thought, excusing the rapid flutter of her pulse. A much stronger woman than the marshmallow his persuasive charm was turning her into.

  Groping for a safe topic of conversation, she focused her gaze on the last colorful rays of the sunset sky. “Beautiful sunset,” she commented, trying not to be too obvious. “I’ve heard there’s nothing lovelier than a New Mexico sky at sunset.” It was all she could do to keep from making a face. Couldn’t she have thought of something more original to say? “Really, lovely colors.” Worse, she thought in disgust. Especially since the lovely colors were almost a memory in the already darkening twilight.

  “Personally I prefer sunrise. But most of the artists I know disagree with me.” Nick guided the topic of conversation from maudlin to interesting with enviable skill. “Of course, I’ve found that artistic temperaments thrive on disagreement anyway, so I try not to take their opinion to heart. Especially at this time of year, when the summer arts festival is in full swing.” He shot her a cautious look. “You’re not an artist, are you?”

  “Strictly paint-by-number.”

  He nodded in seeming satisfaction. “I knew we were kindred spirits. My only excursion into the realm of painting hangs in awful splendor in my mother’s bedroom.”

  “Appropriately titled Santa Fe Sunrise, no doubt.”

  He lifted his shoulders in a disarming shrug. “Well, there’s no accounting for taste, you know. Which brings us to the restaurant and dinner. Do you like Mexican food?”

  “Of course,” Kylie answered, giving in to the delighted smile that tugged at her lips.

  “Good.” Nick maneuvered the car into a parking space and turned off the ignition. “Usually I’d phone ahead for reservations, but there wasn’t time tonight. We’ll just hope there’s a vacant table.”

  His voice was full of confidence, and Kylie thought again that he wasn’t used to any sort of opposition. Something about Nick Braden fairly shouted “success” to the world, and somehow Kylie knew that once they were inside the restaurant, there would be a vacant table.

  Her intuition was right on target, she observed some twenty minutes later as she followed the beaming maitre d’ from the bar. She’d barely had time to sip the margarita Nick had ordered for her before they were being seated at a table in the dining area of the restaurant. Bright splashes of color along with the traditional Spanish decor of the Southwest lent an air of festivity to the room. Spicy scents mingled with the soft strum of a guitar.

  “This is what I call atmosphere with a capital A.” Kylie studied her surroundings with interest before she met the friendly warmth of Nick’s gray eyes. “It reminds me of Old Town in San Diego. Have you ever been there?”

  “My trips to southern California have always ended in Los Angeles.” Nick leaned forward. “But if I’d had any idea that you were only a few miles away, every trip would have taken me to San Diego.”

  “Business trips?” Kylie asked, bypassing any verbal response to the compliment. “You must do a lot of traveling in your job.”

  “Not that much. Most of the time I stay close to the home office, though when there’s any problem at the plants themselves, I’m always chosen as the troubleshooter.”

  Kylie widened her eyes in mock dismay at the term, and Nick laughed. “It isn’t quite as ominous a title as it sounds. The problems usually are solved by reassuring the employees that they’re adequately paid, insured, and safety-checked. Occasionally I have to investigate a new idea that the plant manager feels would increase production.”

  Her business sense jumped to eager attention at the words. “Is that why you’re here?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Nick lifted his glass and sipped his drink. His gaze rested lightly yet intimately on her lips, and Kylie felt her breath rise from her lungs to drift uncertainly in her throat. Willing herself to concentrate on what he’d said, she touched her finger to the salty rim of her glass.

  “I like to see corporations that aren’t afraid of innovative ideas. Too often high-level executives are paranoid about any new method that might upset the status quo and force some much-needed change.” Noting his interested expression, Kylie warmed to her subject with enthusiasm. “In fact, I hope that in the near future companies will replace those aging, autocratic idiots who take up office space and oppose every fresh, new theory in favor of musty, outdated procedures. It’s about time that the average employee can suggest—” She broke off her impassioned speech as she caught a glimpse of laughter in his eyes.

  “Would you like me to order a soapbox for you?” he asked with a teasing grin.

  “No, thanks.” She couldn’t suppress a reluctant smile. “I seem to have managed all right without one. Sorry, Nick. I’m usually not quite so vocal about my opinions.”

  “Don’t apologize. Everyone should have a cause they feel strongly about.”

  “It’s not that, exactly. I’ve been doing some promotional work for my business, and I keep running into brick walls when it comes to getting someone to listen. It’s very frustrating when you don’t even get the chance to present your ideas. But that’s all about to change.” She stopped as the waiter arrived beside their table.

  After an inquiring glance at her Nick took charge of ordering, and Kylie regarded him in thoughtful silence. It would be challenging to work with a man as assertive as Nick. Challenging, demanding, instructive, and satisfying.

  Satisfying. Her mind lingered on the thought as she envisioned the two of them sitting side by side before a cozy fire discussing her ideas for a seminar. Nick would listen, would be interested in and accepting of new ideas. She would be able to talk to him, tell him….

  Common sense interrupted her daydream with indisputable logic. If she was sitting beside Nick after a draining day of training sessions, she wouldn’t want to discuss business. She’d want to relax in his arms, feel the combined beating of their hearts.

  With a start of surprise she realized he was speaking to her. “What?”

  “I just asked if you wanted another drink.” Amusement sparkled in his eye
s.

  “No, thank you. This is fine.” Kylie wrapped her fingers around the slender stem of her glass and raised it to her lips. She touched the crystals of salt with her tongue before she sipped the drink. She was tempted to ask Nick if his company might be interested in hiring hers, but she didn’t want to seem pushy. Again she ran her tongue along the frosted edge of her glass, then looked up, only to get lost in his eyes. Her breathing fluttered in that unexpected odd-even pattern that so exactly matched the sudden rapid beat of her heart. As if he couldn’t help himself, Nick lowered his gaze to her mouth and traced the contours that badly wanted to tremble. Slowly she set her glass on the table and gave in to the purely visual touch that swept through her like a streak of lightning in a stormy sky. Sensuous, probing, and oddly unsettling, it left her feeling dissatisfied and somehow restlessly expectant. Kylie came to the belated realization that she should at least stammer a protest. But what could you say to a man who’d just, so tenderly, kissed you with his eyes?

  “How long are you planning to stay in town, Kylie?”

  From somewhere she managed to recover her voice. “I—uh—I’ll be here about six weeks. What about you?”

  “I think that might depend on you.” The words caressed her with their huskiness. “And whether or not your friends will share your time with me.”

  “Oh.” For a minute she couldn’t seem to manage more than the breathless whisper. “Well, actually I’m not visiting friends.”

  His eyes were gray clouds of seduction as he reached across the table to cover her hand with his. “Good. Then I won’t have to share you with anyone.”

  The pulse at the base of her throat skipped in confusion, and Kylie swallowed. It was definitely time she took command of the situation. Attractive as he might be, she’d only just met him. Summoning her poise, she smiled. “I’m on a business trip too.”

  He seemed to take the hint concealed in her crisp tones and withdrew his hand from hers. “I’d like to see you again, Kylie. Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

  She laughed softly. “We haven’t even had dinner tonight.”

  “All right, then. Make it lunch tomorrow.”

  Pleasurable excitement bubbled inside her, but she tried to look suitably casual. “I think I’d better accept before you begin offering breakfast in….” Bed. The thought hovered in the air as if she’d spoken it aloud, and Kylie wanted to slide under the table.

  With a gentlemanly arch of his brows Nick acted as if he didn’t know what she had so obviously almost said. “If you’d like, we can meet for breakfast,” he suggested.

  “No.” Kylie refused with an emphatic shake of her head. “Dinner tomorrow night will be fine.” Mercifully the waiter arrived with their food, and she breathed a shaky sigh of relief. With studied calm she dipped a tortilla chip in the hot sauce and bit into it, hoping she would burn her tongue and thus prevent any further indiscretions.

  By the time she’d dulled the edge of her hunger with the spicy burrito, her poise had returned.

  “This is very good,” she commented.

  He nodded. “Would you like to meet me here tomorrow, or shall I come for you?”

  Kylie almost gave him the address but then remembered that she had no idea of the next day’s agenda. “I’ll have to let you know, Nick. I’m not sure of my schedule yet. Is there some way I can get in touch with you in the morning?”

  Nick curled his index finger through the handle of his coffee mug and lifted it halfway to his lips. “I’ll be at the plant all morning. You can reach me there. The number’s in the book, or you can dial information and ask for Southwest Textiles.”

  “Southwest Textiles?” Kylie repeated. “But that’s where I’ll be working.”

  The coffee cup clattered against the saucer, and alarm tingled the back of her neck as she registered the look of stunned surprise on his face.

  “You’re Management Movers?” he asked in a hoarse voice.

  “Motivation Management,” she corrected automatically. “That’s the name of my company. We conduct management development seminars for businesses. Well, really, there’s only me at the moment, but I’m planning to hire an assistant soon. Southwest Textiles is the first large firm to see the benefit of this type of training, and there’s—” Self-consciously she stopped herself. “But you already know all about that, don’t you? You probably were instrumental in authorizing the contract.”

  Nick avoided meeting her eyes as he took a long swallow of his drink. “No, Alex Jamison gets full credit for that.”

  “Oh, Alex.” Kylie kept her tone bright and innocent, hoping against hope that she was misreading Nick’s reaction. “I guess, then, he’s the cousin you were calling at the airport.”

  “Yes, he gets full credit for that too.”

  Her spirits plunged at the portentous tone of his voice, but still she managed a careless smile. “It’s a small world, isn’t it?” At his skeptical expression her smile faltered, but she made herself continue. “Who would have thought we’d meet in such an unusual way? I’m here to direct a conference for your company, and you’re here to—”

  “Kylie,” Nick interrupted, pinning her with a regretful but steady gaze, “I’m here to fire you.”

  Her heart plummeted and her mind raced in several directions at once. Shock and anger pushed a defensive response to her tongue, but Kylie made herself stop and think. She mustn’t let him intimidate her. “You can’t do that,” she said finally and prided herself that she sounded as cool and authoritative as he had.

  “I believe I just did.” The sympathy in his eyes faded noticeably. “I’m sorry it turned out to be you, but that’s the way it is.”

  That’s the way it is. His words fell into the whirling chaos of her mind and restored order. Just like that. No questions. No explanations. Just, That’s the way it is. Outrage inflamed her cheeks with hot color, but Kylie calmly lifted her napkin to her lips and returned it to her lap before she slanted a strained but composed smile toward Nick. The need to challenge his assumption of unimpeachable authority was no longer a mischievous impulse. This time she had too much at stake.

  “I don’t believe you understand the terms of the contract, Mr. Braden. My attorney was very thorough. A cancellation requires advance notice—a month’s notice.” She paused as his mouth firmed into a disapproving line. Masking her inner trepidation, she matched his hard stare. “In the long run, you know, a six-week seminar will be much less expensive than a two- or three-year lawsuit.”

  His gaze didn’t waver in the deliberate one-on-one confrontation, and as the tense, silent seconds crept past, Kylie found it increasingly hard not to look away. Hidden from his view, her fingers pleated the linen napkin in folds of doubt.

  “Is that the type of training you propose to give my employees, Kylie?” His voice, low and intense, rippled over her. “Do you teach them to assert themselves by threatening legal action against the management? Tell me, after the seminar do you stick around to oversee the mutiny, or do you scurry home to safety?”

  The unjustness of his accusation refueled her temper. “I’ve never led a mutiny. Of course, I’ve never before worked with such an overbearing….”

  “…autocratic idiot?” Nick supplied smoothly. “I believe that was your term for anyone who disagrees with your line of reasoning.”

  “No. That’s my term for anyone who doesn’t take the time to find out what he’s talking about before he passes judgment.”

  “And that’s the way you see my decision to nullify your contract?”

  “How astute,” she said through tight lips. “But I should have known you would be. After all, there must be some quality that got you into a plush office where you can make arbitrary decisions instead of working for a living.” Kylie knew she was burning bridges she couldn’t afford to rebuild, but she couldn’t sit passively and allow him to deprive her of this chance to prove herself. She believed in the principles she taught, and if Nick would only give her a fair h
earing she could convince him of the value of the training sessions too.

  The flash of anger in his eyes was quickly brought under control. “Look, Kylie, I’m sorry. I know you must be disappointed, but I’m sure you can understand my position.”

  “Certainly.” Her voice shook with cool hauteur. “Just as, I’m sure, you can understand mine.” With shaking fingers Kylie folded her napkin and placed it beside her plate. She pulled the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “Thank you for dinner.”

  Nick’s hand closed around her wrist before she could get more than halfway out of her chair. “Sit,” he commanded gruffly. “We may as well get this thing straightened out now.” When she tilted her chin defiantly, his grip tightened. “I’m not going to let you walk out of here alone. The town is bulging at the seams with tourists and participants in the arts festival. It’s no place to be on your own. Now sit down, and let’s discuss this like two rational business people.”

  “Which one of us is not,” Kylie said grimly. “Are you, Mr. Braden?”

  “Sit,” he repeated with the barest hint of a threat.

  She sank to the edge of the chair and glared at him, wishing she could freeze the overconfident expression on his face. And to think she’d really liked him. She’d almost fallen all over herself liking him! “Let go of my arm,” she snapped.

  “And if I do?”

  She leaned forward, her lips feigning a smile. “Now, what do you think?”

  “I think you take this assertiveness training too seriously.” His fingers loosened their hold, but his hand remained over hers.

  “And you don’t take it seriously enough. Offering your employees the opportunity to feel better about themselves and the job they do can be extremely beneficial to your company. The concept is new, but it works. Within two months you’ll see a significant increase in production.”