A Love Like This Page 6

  “What...what about your business meetings?” she asked.

  “Let me worry about that. Finish your drink. You’ll need an early night.”

  “Why?” she asked, grateful for small miracles when he let her hand go so he could finish his own drink.

  “I’ll tell you in the morning,” he said mysteriously.

  Her mind was working overtime all the way out of the lounge. He was interested in her—that was obvious. But she couldn’t handle an affair with him; she couldn’t. On the other hand, what if he had something more permanent in mind? What if they spent a lot of time together, and he decided that he couldn’t live without her? The thought was pure delight. To live with him. To get to know him. To belong to him and have him belong to her, permanently. She glanced up at him as they walked. It couldn’t happen this quickly, could it? People didn’t get involved so quickly. But she had. She had!

  They were just passing the desk when the clerk called out, “Mr. Steel? Mr. Callaway Steel? There’s a message for you.”

  “Thanks,” he said. “Wait for me,” he told her as he strolled toward the desk.

  Nikki stood there like a young fawn confronted by her first hunter. Callaway Steel. More accurately, Callaway Regan Steel, founder and president of the Steel companies, which included such diversified interests as oil, construction, real estate and a hotel empire of which this very hotel was a part. More than one national magazine had featured the first-generation American whose uncanny business sense had amassed a fortune from some old oil shares and two small filling stations.

  But that wasn’t all Nikki had read about the tycoon. His wife had supposedly suffered a fatal stroke soon after the accident that killed the couple’s young daughter, Genene. But one tabloid had brazenly called it a suicide resulting from heavy drug use. All that was two years and more ago, but the press still hounded him, because he was always in the middle of some big business venture. Callaway Steel made headlines wherever he went. And this latest construction project and merger talk would do it again, she was sure.

  Her eyes followed him, sad and lost and haunted. Something deep inside her began to wither, like a delicate flower cut off from water and sunlight. There had been such promise in the seedling of their relationship, such gentle hope. And now that was at an end. She was as far out of his league as a B-team football squad was from the Dallas Cowboys. She could never fit into his world, into his life, with all those differences to separate them. And an affair would certainly be all he could offer her, at best. He’d said often enough in print that he’d never marry again.

  The evening had held such promise. And now it tasted like warmed-over ashes in her mouth. She saw him nod as he listened to the tall young clerk, turned and walked back toward her with a satisfied look on his face. Another business triumph, she thought bitterly. For business was his life now, the only thing that seemed to make him happy.

  He stood just in front of her for a minute, reading the sadness in her face, her eyes, and his eyes narrowed in a movement strangely like a wince.

  “You really didn’t know, did you?” he asked gently.

  She turned and went to the elevator silently, pressing the up button with a slow, steady finger.

  “It’s been a long day for me,” she said quietly. “Thank you for the drink, but I’d better go on up now.”

  He caught her arm and turned her toward him. “It doesn’t matter,” he said shortly. “Look at me, damn it!”

  She raised her wounded eyes in self-defense. “Doesn’t it?” she asked, her voice faintly trembling.

  The elevator doors opened to let a party of people out—the same Spanish-speaking group that had ridden down with them once before. One of the men called a greeting to Cal, who returned it politely, but without enthusiasm.

  He let her into the elevator first and joined her, his face hard, his dark eyes stormy under a wide swath of dark hair that had fallen out of place onto his forehead, giving him a faintly roguish air.

  “Will you listen...?” he began.

  “Oh, do wait for me,” a small, very cultured voice interrupted, and a tiny, elderly lady in a very sedate navy-and-white suit joined them. Her elegant designer scarf matched the deep blue of her eyes and highlighted the bright silver of her hair. “I thought I was going to get left behind, and I do hate being alone in the lobby at night,” she added cheerfully, ignoring the undercurrents between the elevator’s only other two occupants, “I’m from Tallahassee,” she told them. “Florida, you know,” she added. “I just adore the islands, they’re so...different. Now, my son would love this. I only wish I could have brought him with me, but he was so busy... Where are you two from?” she added with a tiny pause of breath.

  “No hablo ni una palabra de inglés,” Cal said in perfect Spanish, and with a faint smile. “Pero me gusta Nassau por su siempre briliante sol y cielo azul, y mi mujer le gusta también. ¿Y usted?”

  The small woman smiled sheepishly, nodded and replied, “Nice to have met you!” in a loud voice, as if she expected foreigners could only understand English if it was yelled at them.

  As the elevator doors opened on the first floor, she moved out of it quickly, nodding and smiling, and looking relieved as she moved off down the hall.

  Nikki, who’d been watching the byplay with niggling amusement, darted a glance at Cal.

  “What did you tell her?” she asked curiously.

  “That I didn’t speak English, that I enjoyed the sun and sand, and that you did, too.” He ran his eyes down her slender figure. “And that you were my woman,” he added.

  Her face flushed. “Oh no, I’m not,” she said under her breath. The elevator stopped and she ducked past him to get out. “Not now, not ever, Mr. Tycoon. Just put me down as one of your few failed acquisitions.”

  “And that’s something I won’t do,” he replied, following her down the hall to the door of her room.

  She put the key in and turned it, her head bent, her shoulders sagging, her throat filled with tears.

  She felt his big, warm hands resting heavily on his shoulders, pressing, holding.

  “So I’ve got money,” he said, as if he were searching for the right words, his voice deep and low in the deserted hall. “It pays the bills and supports a few workers. I can go first class when I please. I can afford to run a Rolls and buy a town house in Lincoln Park. But I work hard, Georgia. None of it came easy, and I wasn’t born rich. I worked for every dime I’ve got. I think that entitles me to enjoy a little of it.”

  She turned, her back to the door and looked up at him sadly. “Oh, I didn’t mean that,” she said defensively, “I’ve read about you. I know what a rough road it was to the top. You’re quite a success story. But you and I are worlds apart,” she added, feeling it was important that she make him understand what she was saying. “Cal, my people have been farmers for three generations. Not plantation holders, not rich people. Except for a fourth cousin who made a million selling lightning rods, I don’t even know any rich people. I...I can’t cope...”

  “You’ve been coping,” he shot back. His eyes darkened in that broad, hard face. “My God, you’re the first woman I’ve ever met who ran the other way when she knew my net worth. Don’t you want a mink or a new Ferrari?” he added, his voice lightly teasing.

  Her lower lip trembled with sheer fury. Her hand lifted and he caught it, taking it to his chest.

  “No, mink wouldn’t suit you, would it?” he asked softly. “Neither would strands of diamonds or sports cars. You’re a wildflower girl. Daisies and jonquils in carpeted meadows, and the wind in your hair.”

  She caught her lip in her teeth, trying to stem the tears. She loved those flowers; she picked bouquets of them in season and made arrangements for the table. Ralley had never thought of her that way. He hadn’t really considered who or what she was; she’d been more a possession than a person to him.

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sp; His fingers went to cup her oval face, holding it up to his dark, gentle eyes while he studied her in a silence rich with emotion.

  “Nikki,” he murmured deeply, savoring the name on his lips. “Nicole...”

  “Cal, it won’t work...” she whispered shakily.

  “We’ll make it work,” he whispered as he bent toward her, taking his time about it, fitting his mouth exactly to hers until it touched gently every single curve of her quivering lips. “Kiss me, Nikki,” he murmured against her mouth, and she felt his big arms swallowing her as the kiss made a mockery of every other caress she’d ever known. There was a strange tenderness in him as he explored her mouth, a treasuring of it as if it was a fragile, delicate thing that he mustn’t be too rough with. He drew back far too soon, and Nikki saw the turbulence she was feeling mirrored in his wood-brown eyes.

  “I hope you’re properly flattered,” he said gruffly. “It’s been one hell of a long time since I’ve been that careful with a woman’s mouth.”

  She was still working on words. Her eyes, her mind, was full of that dark face above her that had suddenly and unexpectedly become her world. “You’re very experienced,” she whispered.

  “What did you expect? A computer with hands?” he asked dryly. “I was married for twelve years, and I wasn’t a saint when I proposed.” His face clouded. “Nor since,” he added roughly.

  “I’m not a sophisticated woman,” she told him with a voice that felt sandpapery. “I come from a relatively small town, I’ve never been a partygoer and I hate what I know of socializing. Cal...” She let her eyes drop to his broad chest. “Cal, I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to get...involved with you.”

  He tipped her face up to his with a long, broad finger. “Honey, you’re already involved,” he said quietly. “So am I. And we’re getting in deeper by the minute. I touch you, and I tremble like a boy. Haven’t you noticed that? The same thing happens for you. I’m thirty-eight years old and I’ve never felt that way before. Don’t expect me to walk away from you at this stage.”

  Her face contorted with indecision, with longing. He was right; he affected her exactly the same way she affected him, but she couldn’t make him understand what she was talking about. She’d be winnowed out of his society in less than a week; she wasn’t strong enough for the kind of people he associated with. She knew nothing about big business, less about entertaining, and she’d only be a hindrance to him. Physically they were beautiful together, but Nikki had seen too many of her friends’ marriages collapse from too much emphasis on the bedroom and too little on the living room. Without a foundation of common interests and friendship, that physical side of a relationship, while wonderful, would never sustain the relationship alone.

  “Cal, I’m so confused,” she whispered, looking up at him with all her doubts in her eyes.

  He drew in a deep, long breath. “Give it time, Georgia,” he said, lapsing back to her nickname and the earlier comradeship, his smile kind. “Suppose we spend these next few days just getting acquainted? No heavy petting, no passion on moonlit beaches, no sex, period. And then we’ll go from there. Well?”

  “I want to,” she admitted wholeheartedly. Her hands moved unconsciously on his broad chest over the shirt. “Oh, I want to very much.”

  “None of that, either,” he murmured, stilling her hands. “You did say you couldn’t handle an affair with me, and I’ve got a low boiling point. No fair turning up the heat.”

  She laughed softly. “All right.”

  He bent and brushed a gentle kiss against her smooth forehead. “Go to bed. Tomorrow I’m going to rent a car and show you the island. Maybe we’ll fly over to Freeport and take in the sights, too.”

  “I’d like that,” she replied, her face beaming.

  He watched her, faintly smiling. “Sunshine,” he murmured. “Daisies will always remind me of you from now on. You’re so natural, Georgia. Nothing false, nothing put on, just a vibrant enthusiasm for life. I’ve never known anyone like you.”

  “I’ve never known anyone like you,” she replied, studying him. “Cal...”

  “Don’t start that again,” he said. “You make me feel like a walking checkbook when you look at me like that. I’m a man, Georgia.”

  “You sure are,” she said with a stage sigh, batting her long eyelashes at him.

  He chuckled softly, removing his hands from her waist to jam them into his pockets and stare down his imposing, arrogant nose at her. “I’ll pick you up at seven sharp.”

  “I’ll be ready.” She opened the door and went inside, smiling at him through the wide crack. “Good night, then.”

  He smiled back. “Good night. Lock that door,” he added firmly.

  “Yes, sir!” She got a last glimpse of his amused eyes before she shut the big door and locked it noisily.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE NEXT DAY seemed to go by in a haze. Cal chartered a plane and took her to Freeport on Grand Bahama. She held tightly to his big hand while they wandered through the shops in the International Bazaar and ate in one of the many restaurants there. He bought her a tiny jade elephant, the only thing she’d willingly accept, and she knew she’d treasure it all her life.

  Freeport was more spread out than Nassau, with wide boulevards and more sense of space. But privately Nikki liked Nassau best, perhaps because it was more crowded.

  “Tired?” Cal asked on the way back, watching her stare down at the turquoise water as they approached the Nassau airport.

  “Tired, but happy,” she replied, turning to smile up at him. “It was lovely.”

  “And it’s not over,” he said with a slow smile. “Feel like some more walking?”

  I could get up off my deathbed to walk with you, she thought. But all she said was, “Yes, I do. Where are we going now?”

  He stretched lazily. “I thought I’d show you the inside of that church you were so fascinated by.” He caught her hand and wrapped it up in his, sending tingles of sensation down her arm. “Then we’ll go lie on the beach until it’s time for my next meeting.”

  “Another one?” she asked.

  He only laughed. “Honey, my whole life is one big round of meetings, everything from civic ones to board meetings. I don’t have time to curse my cats when I’m back in Chicago.”

  “Do you eat out all the time?” she asked, curious about his lifestyle.

  “I have a housekeeper—a wiry, little white-haired thing who can run circles around me,” he said with a smile. “Her name’s Maggie, and her specialty is giving me hell when I skip dinner.”

  “A paragon.” She laughed.

  “Not quite.” He scowled. “Maggie has a tongue that waggles at both ends, as the saying goes. That’s her only fault, but she’s easy to get to, for the press. I almost fired her over that trait once.”

  She’d have bet it was after his wife’s death, but she didn’t ask. Prying into old hurts wasn’t her privilege.

  “Do you ever relax?” she wondered.

  He shrugged. “Business isn’t work to me—it’s play. I enjoy a challenge.”

  “Is that what pushes you?” she teased lightly.

  His face clouded and froze over. “Not quite.” He released her hand and reached in his pocket for a cigarette, realized the plane was about to land and put it back again.

  “Buckle up, honey. We’re going in for a landing,” he said curtly.

  She did as he asked without another word. She’d offended him, without realizing it. His motivation was surely in some way linked to his dead wife and daughter, and she regretted deeply that unthinking question. Her eyes turned toward the window and she didn’t open her mouth again.

  They went back to the hotel first, to give Nikki a chance to change into more comfortable clothes before they went out again. While they were there, Cal exchanged her room and his for a suite of rooms overlooking
the bay.

  “Don’t get any ideas about seducing me, either.” He chuckled as he carried her bags into her bedroom. “I’ve got protection. Genner!”

  A tall, graying man with friendly eyes and a taciturn face came ambling out of the sitting room that connected her room with Cal’s. “Yes, sir?”

  “Genner, this is Miss Blake. Nikki, Genner has been with me for over fifteen years. He smooths the bumps, makes me eat when I don’t want to and manages somehow to survive four female Siamese cats who hate him fiercely.”

  She laughed. “How do you do, Mr. Genner?” she said politely, extending her hand and having it lightly shaken.

  “Fine, thank you, miss,” he replied. “Would you like some coffee, sir?” he asked Cal.

  “That might be a good idea.”

  “None for me,” Nikki said quickly, feeling the heat more than ever, even in the air-conditioned sitting room, “I’d like to lie down for a minute or two, if you don’t mind.”

  “Go ahead,” he said gently. “I’ve got a mountain of work to get through and a meeting on the agenda...”

  Nikki thought guiltily of all the time he’d been spending with her instead of his business. “Cal, if you’d rather put the church off until tomorrow, it’s fine with me,” she lied.

  He shifted restlessly, his big hands jammed in his pockets. “I could use a little extra time to study the proposals on that real estate I need for the new hotel,” he murmured.

  She pasted a smile on her face. She’d had the morning with him, after all... Why should she expect any more?

  “Then take it,” she said. “I’m really worn out, but I didn’t want to say anything and hurt your feelings. You’ve been so kind...about the room and all...”

  He glared at her. “It wasn’t out of kindness and you know it,” he growled. “I please myself, no one else.”

  “You know what I mean,” she said gently. “I don’t mind about this afternoon. Really, I don’t.”