He had a teenage daughter who was pregnant and who had just begun to talk to him. He had to start from the ground up to rebuild their relationship. It would take all the time and concentration he could muster to keep from screwing things up again. And he had to help Cynthia figure out how to continue with her education, be a good mother to her child, and somehow have the life of a normal teenager and college student, a practically insoluble problem. That would become more difficult when, sooner or later, the father of the baby turned up, and he had to deal with that.
And into this turbulent mess he called his life he had just introduced a woman who didn’t like very much about him and none of what he did. He had to be deranged. If they hadn’t been thrown together by Cynthia’s running way, he’d never have given her five minutes of his time. Yet now he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
He’d dated women with more spectacular bodies, more beautiful faces, more sophisticated senses of style, yet he’d felt a strong physical attraction for Kathryn from the moment he set eyes on her. She was pretty, had plenty of style, and thinking about her body caused his temperature to rise. Maybe the simplicity of the way everything about her came together in a way that said there was nothing fabricated about her, nothing pretentious, nothing to hide, was the key. She was exactly what you saw, and that’s the way she intended to remain.
He liked her intensity. Or maybe he meant her strength of character. She knew what she wanted, what she didn’t, and she didn’t equivocate. And she’d managed to tell him she disapproved of just about everything about him without making him feel she thought less of him as a man. She conceded to him the right to make his own choices at the same time she made it clear she didn’t agree with them.
But he was most impressed she cared enough about the girls to devote her time and financial resources to make sure their mistakes did as little damage to their lives as possible. The emotional strain of dealing with teenagers under those circumstances must be tremendous. And then she had to deal with the parents as well. Even with the help of the experts she hired, he didn’t see how she managed it.
He kept his temper with his clients because he was well paid to do it. She voluntarily put herself in the way of the anger of a lot of people because she wanted to help girls she’d never seen before they walked into her shelter. He had more money and more resources, but he’d never thought of doing anything like that. It ought to make him feel ashamed.
But all of this brought him back to the original question. Why had he asked her to go to Geneva with him? What did he expect—no, what did he hope to get out of it? He knew it wasn’t just a thoroughly satisfying tumble in the bed. He wanted that and had told her so. He wouldn’t turn it down if she offered, but there was something else.
She was vulnerable, but she had learned to cover it up. Maybe even deny it. Yet he could sense it lurking somewhere way down deep, maybe so deep she didn’t realize it was there. At some level she still ached, yearned for what she couldn’t have, couldn’t find, maybe couldn’t even identify. He’d promised himself he’d find it and fix it—just as he’d promised he’d fix his relationship with Cynthia—but he hadn’t come close to figuring out what it might be.
He had figured out one thing: Kathryn had made him realize he was lonely, that he needed more than his work to feel fulfilled. Even more than his daughter and his future grandchild. He was a man with the physical and emotional needs of any other man. He’d ignored those needs far too long.
“Are you sure you don’t mind watching this movie?” Ron asked her for the tenth time.
“I can’t say I would have chosen Chariots of Fire if I could have found A Room with a View or Shakespeare in Love, but it’s better than a clutch of Terminators or any of those action-adventure movies. Besides, it’s kind of romantic in its own way.”
If she was completely honest she wouldn’t have cared if they’d watched one of the sweaty-muscles epics. She’d spent the last hour wrapped in Ron’s embrace. Every so often he would whisper something, an excuse apparently to kiss her ear. She’d asked him once if he shouldn’t be working. He’d said he still had time, so she didn’t mention it again. She was hoping he wanted to kiss more than her ears.
“Are you glad you decided to come with me?” Ron asked.
That was a little more direct than she wanted to be. “I still can’t believe I’m here. I don’t want to think about what people are going to say when they find out.”
“You’re an adult. You can make your own decisions.”
“That sounds exactly like what a man would say when he’s trying to talk a woman into doing something she knows she shouldn’t.”
“Is that how you feel?”
Yes, but she couldn’t put any of the blame on him. “A little bit. We haven’t known each other very long, and you have to admit this could be seen as rather suggestive.”
His grin turned positively brilliant. “You want to give them something to talk about?”
“No. This is something I did for myself. I wouldn’t want to share it, even without the threat of gossip.” That was true, but it exposed her feelings a little more than she wanted at the moment.
“Why did you come?”
“Let me ask you first. Why did you invite me?”
“No big secret there. I like you. I enjoy your company, and I wanted a chance to get to know you better. That didn’t look likely as long as that shelter was standing between us. Besides, in Charlotte you saw me only as Cynthia’s dad, a man who’d screwed up and didn’t know how to straighten things out. I wanted you to see me as myself.”
“How could I think of you as a screwup? You’re famous the world over.”
“Only in certain circles. Tell me why you decided to come with me.”
Kathryn felt as if she were about to tell him things she wasn’t even sure about herself. “Can I come back to that later?”
He sat up, looked at her with curiosity and surprise. “This isn’t like you. You always know exactly what you think. I can only assume you don’t want to tell me.”
“I don’t, but I’m also not sure. This was something I did on impulse. I’m still trying to figure out why.”
“I’m a firm believer in impulses. They tell us what we really want.”
“You don’t seem very impulsive.”
“I’m not. Inviting you along was the first impulsive thing I’ve done in years. It felt so good I’m looking for something else impulsive to do.”
“You’d better be careful. You might scare those people you’re trying to convince to accept the merger.”
“I don’t want to think about them. Let’s think about us. What would you like to do?”
“I don’t know yet. I don’t know anything about Geneva.”
“I can show you anything you want.”
“You’ll be in the meeting all day. Maybe we can save that for next time.”
“Is there going to be a next time?”
“That’s up for negotiation.” She thought she was making a little joke, a least a play on words, but he took her quite seriously.
“What can I do to convince you that there ought to be a next time?”
“Let’s concentrate on this time first.”
“Fine with me, but the movie is disturbing me. Mind if I turn it down?”
He muted the TV before she had time to answer. Reaching out and placing his hand on her cheek, he turned her head to face him. “Now I can concentrate on you.”
She smiled at him, happy he hadn’t waited for her to make the decision. “I didn’t realize you had a problem.”
“Not that kind,” he said, grinning back. “I just have a one-track mind, and right now I want that track focused on you.”
“What about me is so interesting?” She wasn’t trying to put him off. She really wondered what a man like him could see in a woman like her.
“You’re a damned good-looking woman. I don’t know which of your parents is responsible for the way you’re put together, but I
have to compliment them on a job well done.”
“You sound like all the men I know. Body first, everything else so far up the track you can’t see it.”
“I’m not quite that bad, but yeah, I’m a body man.” He brushed her lips with his. “Don’t you have even a tiny bit of interest in my body?”
She kept remembering how Ron looked this past weekend in his cutoffs and T-shirt. He hadn’t mentioned going to a gym or working out, but he must have done something besides sit around conference tables to be in such great shape. Lisette’s mother said he looked too young and attractive to be a business tycoon. Mrs. O’Grady was more direct. She said it was a shame to hide all that male virility beneath business suits. Betsy and Julia’s mothers wondered how such an attractive man could still be single after nine years. Kathryn had concentrated on keeping everybody from realizing she was just as impressed by Ron’s body as they were. Having the women mention it to her several times a day had made it very hard to keep her mind on helping the girls and their families.
“No self-respecting woman could make an admission like that,” she said.
“Why not? Don’t tell me women drool over Brad Pitt and Mel Gibson because of their minds.”
It was hard to carry on a conversation when he kept covering her mouth with tiny kisses. “No self-respecting woman will admit she drools over movie stars.”
“How about Prince William?”
“He’s too young for me.”
“How about me? I’m just the right age.”
“I’d never make such an admission.”
“Why not? I admit I drool over you.”
“Men are allowed. Women aren’t.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.” He sat back and flashed that wicked grin again. “In the interest of fair play, I’m giving you permission to drool over me. And any other man you like,” he added, “but I hope you won’t like too many more. I have a fragile ego.”
She laughed. “Your ego could withstand an atomic blast.” But no sooner had she said it than she realized she was wrong and should have known it. “You don’t have that kind of ego, do you? I know I shouldn’t talk about it—it’s bad manners—but you don’t, or you wouldn’t care about social acceptance.”
The smile seemed to freeze on his face. She imagined he’d learned to do that to shield his feelings when he was growing up.
“How disconcerting to have my tawdry ambitions exposed when I’m trying to make love to a beautiful woman. Sort of takes the steam out of things.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s not something I’m proud of, but I can’t deny it.” He picked up the clicker and unmuted the movie. “If you’d rather watch—”
She took the clicker from him, muted the movie again.
“I’d rather go back to what we were doing before I destroyed the mood. There’s nothing socially unacceptable about you. And if other people don’t see that, it’s their loss.”
“You remind me of Erin. She was fierce about my feelings of inferiority.”
Kathryn wasn’t sure how she felt about being compared to his dead wife, but she didn’t intend to let that destroy the mood, either. “Good. I hope she said all the things I would have said.”
The grin was back. “Tell me what you’d have said. I have this inferiority complex, remember, so make it really good.”
“Are you fishing for compliments?”
“Got any floating around?”
“Maybe I could think of a few if you don’t start kissing me again and mess up my concentration.”
“Can I do that?”
“You know you can.” She wondered if she was blushing. She ought to be. She sounded as if she were asking him to kiss her.
“Hmmm,” he said. He cocked his head to one side and pretended to be in deep thought. “Do I prefer you talking or silent?”
“I thought every man’s secret wish was for a silent woman.” Only after she’d spoken did she realize the significance of what she’d said.
“Who am I to go against the wisdom of the entire male species? I’ll opt for silence, too. You’ll have all day tomorrow to think of compliments.”
Then he kissed her. Again and again and again. There was nothing shy or hesitant about his kisses. Just as in business, it seemed that in his personal affairs, Ron Egan believed in being very direct. Kathryn couldn’t have resisted him if she’d wanted to.
And she didn’t want to.
She threw herself in his kisses with an abandon none of her previous dates or companions would have recognized. Cool, controlled and demanding Kathryn Roper had turned into a woman hungry for what this man could give her, needing what this man could give her, wanting more than anything what this man could give her. In the past she’d waited for her companion to come to her, to make the advance, to set the tempo. She’d responded enthusiastically on occasion, but never had she felt as if she wanted to set the agenda, control the tempo, adjust the heat upward.
Somewhere in the back of her head a howling genie screamed that she was lowering her standards, that she couldn’t behave in such an abandoned manner with a man who stood for virtually everything she despised.
A second genie popped up to say she wasn’t entirely sure Kathryn despised all that much about Ron. Besides, she didn’t fully understand him or his business. Maybe she’d applied strictures that didn’t fit.
A third genie interrupted to say the whole discussion was nonsense. She didn’t have to be thinking about marrying a man to enjoy his company. Ron Egan was attractive, intelligent, fascinating, as well as having a body men ten years younger would envy. On top of that, he was the most interesting man she had met in years. It would be foolish for Kathryn to waste this opportunity to enjoy his company because of philosophical differences.
Kathryn happily awarded the victory to the third genie, complimented the second on her perspicacity and ruthlessly banished the first. Now unencumbered by doubt, she devoted her full attention to Ron’s kisses. It didn’t bother her in the least that she was gradually sliding down in the sofa. It was much easier to kiss lying down. Especially if she abandoned all restraint.
Kisses on her eyebrows and temples were tantalizing. Kisses on her neck or collarbone were titillating. Kisses on her ears turned up the heat. But nothing excited her as much as a big, hungry, ruthless kiss on her mouth. She wasn’t a passive partner. She didn’t like lying there while Ron had all the fun. She wanted to participate.
When his tongue invaded her mouth, she countered with an equal energy. Her tongue pressed back against every attack. They had slid down in the sofa until their bodies were in contact from shoulder to knee making the feeling all the more intense.
Somewhere in the midst of this intensity Kathryn realized she hadn’t had a necking session like this since her college days. Nor had she enjoyed one half as much. Her two serious relationships had been just that—all too serious. They had none of the unrestrained excitement, the sheer abandon, the crackle of electric energy, the chemistry that existed between Ron and her. It was a sheer visceral reaction, all the more powerful because it was unencumbered by rational thought.
The last shred of control vanished when Ron’s hand cupped her breast. Even through her blouse and bra, the feeling was electric. She heard herself gasp for breath, felt her body arch, push her breast more firmly against his hand. The feeling that swept over her was so strong, so overwhelming, she felt dizzy. She hadn’t realized how long it had been since she’d allowed any man to touch her. To have someone like Ron, a man whose effect on her was out of all proportion caused her to react much more strongly than she could have imagined.
Hungers she thought buried, or at least forced into slumber by the strength of reason and resolve, gnawed at her with the voracious appetite of a starving beast. Her body trembled when Ron began to unbutton her blouse. Her breathing stopped when he unhooked her bra. It came in uneven gasps when his hands touched the superheated skin of her breast. Her skin had never felt
so sensitive to the touch. She was certain all her senses were at least a dozen times more acute than normal. When his fingertips touched her engorged nipple, she felt she was ready to jump out of her skin.
She had to get herself under control. At this rate she would be a mindless mass of jelly in a matter of minutes. She hadn’t guessed at the tension that had built up over the years since she’d practically cut herself off from all but the most formal dates with carefully chosen men. She had no suspicion of the need that had gone unfulfilled or the strain it had put on her. She had no idea she was capable of being so strongly attracted to a man or so strongly affected by him. She had foolishly concluded she was beyond any sort of youthful temptation to throw out reason for emotion.
But she was wrong. Ron’s attentions to her body proved she was dangerously close to losing control. She didn’t know what would happen if she crossed that barrier, but she resolved not to find out.
Then Ron touched her breast with his lips, and her resolve when up in smoke.
Kathryn couldn’t remember when, or if, anything had ever affected her so dramatically. There was no question of her being able to think, reason, or make choices, no matter how basic. She could only remain where she was as Ron treated her breast to a profusion of sensations, each seemingly more intense and pervasive than the last. Every part of her body reacted to his touch as if he had a hundred hands and was able to touch her in a hundred places all at once. She felt besieged. Assaulted. Reduced to helplessness.
Despite the feeling that she was losing what little control she had over the situation, she wouldn’t have changed anything. She couldn’t remember when—if ever—she’d felt so wonderfully alive. The lethargy which had threatened to engulf her a few weeks ago was completely forgotten. The pessimism about her future evaporated. The fear that her chances for love had vanished haunted her no longer. She didn’t know what lay ahead, but as long as Ron Egan was in her future, it would be exciting.
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