by Ginna Gray
"I don't know," Jacob mumbled. "But Maggie is smart. If there's a way, she'll figure it out."
"Look, Jacob, you're worrying for nothing. As far as I can tell, all she's guilty of is working like a Trojan to save Malone Enterprises."
"Maybe you're right. But I'm not totally convinced yet. Look, just keep your eyes open a little while longer, okay?"
"Dammit, Jacob—"
"A few more weeks, that's all. Just until I'm sure she's competent. That's not too much to ask, is it?"
Maggie turned the key in the Viper's ignition. Silence.
"No, this can't be." Frowning, she turned the key again. Again the action produced not a sound.
"No-o-o-o," she wailed, and hit the dashboard with the sides of both fists. Slumping forward, she rested her forehead against the steering wheel. "What next?"
It had been a beastly day, starting with a whining call from Val and culminating with an unpleasant clash with Elaine Udall just before quitting time for the office staff. Now, after putting in a fifteen-hour day, here it was after eleven and her car wouldn't start. Great. Just great.
"Something wrong?"
Maggie let out a squeak and jerked upright, then slumped back against the seat with her hand on her heart. "Dan—for Pete's sake, don't sneak up on me like that! You scared me half to death."
"Sorry. But I saw you sitting here with your head down and I thought I'd better see if you were okay."
"It's my car. It won't start. Barely two months old, and already it's giving me trouble."
"You got a flashlight?"
Nodding, Maggie fished the light out of the console and handed it to him.
"Good. Now pop the hood and I'll take a look. Could be it's something minor like a loose wire."
She did as he asked, then climbed out of the car and peered over his shoulder while he bent over the engine. In only seconds he straightened and slammed the hood shut. "You won't be driving this thing tonight. The wire harness to the onboard computer has been cut."
"Cut? You mean someone deliberately disabled my car?"
"Yes."
Maggie's gaze darted around the dimly lit parking area, and she unconsciously took a step closer to Dan.
Without warning, the wind began to gust.
"Oh, my." Maggie first grabbed her hair, then abandoned it to the whipping wind and fought to keep her skirt from blowing over her head.
"Looks like a front is blowing in." Dan scanned the night sky and sniffed. "Rain's coming."
"Oh, great."
"You got a coat? It's going to get cold in a hurry. You do remember what a Texas blue norther is like, don't you?"
"Of course I remember. And no, I didn't bring a coat with me. It was seventy degrees at nine o'clock. Besides, you don't have one either, so what are you on my case for?"
He gave her a wry look. "When I came back to the office after dinner I didn't plan on being here long."
"C'mon." He grasped her arm and steered her toward the orchard. "If we hustle we might make it to my place before it starts to rain."
"Where's your truck?" Maggie raised her voice to be heard over the wind, hurrying along beside him.
"At the cottage," he yelled back. "It was such a nice night when I left I decided to walk."
Lighting the way with the flashlight, Dan kept his grip on Maggie's arm and hurried her through the orchard.
"Brrr. It's getting colder by the minute."
"Yeah, let's pick up the pace."
Their long, quick strides ate up the ground. Breathing hard from the exertion and the cold, neither spoke.
They were two hundred yards shy of the clearing when the first fat raindrops splattered down.
Maggie gave a shout when several icy drops smacked her face.
"C'mon, run!" Dan grabbed her hand and they took off.
The sky opened up and the sprinkles turned into a torrent of sleet and rain. Water and ice pounded down, fading in sheets so thick they could barely see two feet in front of them. Maggie and Dan were soaked to the skin before they'd gone ten yards.
The noise was deafening. The heavy drops pounded the ground, turning the bare earth to mud. Ice crystals rattled the leaves overhead and stung their skin, and tiny particles slid down their necks and slipped beneath their clothing.
Maggie shrieked and shivered, but she kept pace with Dan's long strides.
Finally they burst into the clearing. They tore across Dan's neat patch of lawn and up the steps. The porch, though dry, offered no shelter from the freezing temperature, and they burst through the front door at top speed and slammed it shut behind them.
"Damn!" Dan spat, coming to a halt in the middle of the foyer.
"Oh! Oh, I don't be-believe it!" Dripping water, gasping for breath and shivering violently, Maggie collapsed back against the door and gave in to a fit of choking laughter.
Dan looked at her as though she'd taken leave of her senses, but before long his mouth began to twitch. Finally he bent over, braced his hands on his knees and joined her.
For several minutes they laughed like fools, relieved, exhausted, overcome with hilarity.
After a while, though, their laughter faded, and there was only the sounds of their breathing and the ponderous ticking of the grandfather clock.
As they straightened, their gazes met and held, and the silence grew thick. Awareness vibrated in the air, stretching the silence tighter still.
A wave of gooseflesh rippled over Maggie's skin. She shivered helplessly and felt her nipples pucker.
Dan's silvery gaze dropped to her breasts, and when she glanced down she saw that her white blouse clung to her like a second skin, revealing the twin hardened nubs pushing against her lacy bra.
Her gaze snapped back to Dan's, and the heat she saw in his eyes sent another shiver through her.
Resisting the urge to clamp her hands over her breasts, she attempted a blasé smile. "We're, uh … we're soaked," she said needlessly into the awkward silence.
Dan remained silent. He started toward her, his steps slow and deliberate, his sizzling gaze locked with hers.
Maggie swallowed hard. "A-and I'm afraid we're, uh…"
Her eyes widened as Dan kept advancing. She took a step back and bumped into the door. Immediately he braced his forearms against the door on either side of her head and leaned in, pinning her with his lower body.
Shock slammed through Maggie. Following hard on its heels came electrifying desire.
First she felt the cold clamminess of wet jeans, then his searing body heat seeping through. Struggling to hold on to her train of thought, Maggie stared into those heated eyes and licked her suddenly dry lips.
"We're, uh … we're dripping all over your floor."
"Shut up, Red," Dan whispered, and covered her mouth with his.
Maggie moaned and clutched his hair with both hands. She realized with sudden blinding clarity that she had been waiting for this almost from the moment they met.
The pleasure was almost unbearable. She could not get enough of him. With an urgent little sound, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, answering passion with passion, greedily kissing him back with a hunger that matched his own.
Without taking his lips from hers, Dan straightened and pulled her away from the door. Maggie felt his arms tighten around her, molding her upper body to his chest. Then, remotely, she felt herself being lifted and carried with her feet dangling mere inches from the floor.
When he sat her on her feet again he tore his mouth from hers and nibbled her neck while his big workman's hands worked at the tiny pearl buttons on her blouse.
Instinctively, Maggie arched her neck to give him better access. Gazing through glazed, half-closed eyes, she vaguely realized that they were in his bedroom.
"D-Dan, this is crazy."
"Insane," he agreed, nipping her earlobe.
"We can't. We mustn't…"
"I know." He kissed and nipped his way down the side of her neck. She felt her blouse fall open a
nd his hand slipped inside and closed around her breast. Maggie moaned. An instant later she sucked in a sharp breath and shivered when his thumb swept over her nipple.
They were breathing hard, gasping, their hearts pounding.
"This is senseless," he agreed in a raspy voice. He trailed a line of nibbling kisses along her collar-bone. "Foolish." His mouth slid downward over the soft swells above her bra. "A huge mistake."
"Ye-yes."
"We have to stop."
"Yes, we—" Maggie cried out as he closed his mouth over her breast and suckled her through the fine lace.
She clutched his head and arched her back, her body instinctively seeking the intense pleasure.
"Please. Oh, please!" she cried, but what she was pleading for exactly she couldn't have said.
Dan raised his head and held her away from him at arm's length. His face was flushed and his chest heaved. "I know this is reckless and unwise, but I don't want to stop. But if that's what you really want, I will."
"I…"
"Do you want to stop, Maggie?"
Want? It was the smart thing to do, the safe thing. But want?
Breathing hard, her heart thundering, she stared at the passion in his eyes and felt it pull at her, felt the same burning heat pulsing through her body. Caution and common sense went flying. She surged forward and threw herself against his chest, her arms wrapping around his neck as her mouth claimed his.
It was all the answer Dan needed.
It was as though her impulsive response opened a floodgate. They strained together, kissing greedily while they frantically worked to divest each other of their soggy clothing. Hands clutched and tugged and snatched at buttons and zippers.
Maggie shoved Dan's shirt off his shoulders, then paused to string kisses over his chest. He tasted of rainwater and a lingering hint of soap. She slipped her hands beneath his sodden jeans and shoved them down, as well, and gave a low moan of pleasure as she felt his manhood pressed against her.
Dan was just as busy, and soon they were naked in each other's arms, warm flesh to warm flesh. Maggie closed her eyes and reveled in the feel of his callused hands sliding over her body, caressing, arousing.
"Oh, yes. Yes, sugar."
"No!" Maggie gasped as Dan fell with her onto the bed, twisting to take her weight. Quickly rolling her onto her back, he rose up partway and looked at her, his face hard. "Say my name, dammit."
Maggie blinked at the fierceness in his eyes, in his voice. "Wha-what?"
"Not sugar, or handsome or sweetcakes or any other of those meaningless pet names you throw around to adoring males. When we make love I want to hear you say my name. Say it!"
Understanding dawned. Maggie gave him a melting look and cupped his face in her hands. "Make love to me, Dan," she whispered.
* * *
Fifteen
« ^ »
Maggie felt glorious. Eyes closed and limp with delicious lassitude, she luxuriated in the sensation of floating.
Then Dan shifted and rolled off her and onto his back.
Her eyes popped open, and she experienced a sudden chill that was due only in part to the loss of his body heat. Dear Lord, Mag, what have you done? Instinctively, she started to rum away, to flee.
"Come here," Dan murmured.
Surprise shot through Maggie as she found herself being hauled against his side. She didn't know what she had expected, exactly, but certainly not that he would loop his arm around her and pull her close.
She lay still and tense in his embrace, nestled against his side, her cheek on his shoulder, and stared across the room at nothing as Dan rubbed his hand slowly up and down her arm. She'd never felt so awkward or unsure of herself in her life.
Rain pounded the roof and lashed against the windowpanes. Everything had happened so fast Dan hadn't turned up the heat, and, with the temperature plunging outside, the room had grown chilly. Everywhere her skin touched Dan she was warm, but gooseflesh covered the rest of her. She shivered and pressed closer.
"Cold?" Without waiting for a reply, he reached down and drew up the covers, tucking them around her with surprising tenderness before settling back in his former position.
Maggie told herself to get up and get dressed, make some flippant excuse and get out of there. But she couldn't seem to move from the delicious warmth.
She bit her lower lip. This was a big mistake, Mag. Big, big mistake. You have to work with this man every day, for Pete's sake. What were you thinking?
She almost laughed at that. That was the trouble. She hadn't been thinking at all. In the heat of the moment she had simply gone with her heart and her emotions.
Over the last two months she'd fallen in love with Dan, and she had been so caught up in that mad maelstrom of love and desire she had forgotten that for men lovemaking did not necessarily have anything to do with love. To them, sexual intimacy was often just about pleasure—an itch that needed scratching.
Dan had never so much as hinted that he had feelings for her, so it was pointless to fantasize about love and marriage or even romance.
Maggie peeked up at him through her lashes. From that perspective his face was all hard angles and planes, and his eyes were fixed on the ceiling.
He's probably trying right now to think of a way to put some distance between the two of you. So go ahead. Do both of you a favor and let him know you don't expect anything of him.
Drawing a bracing breath, Maggie gave his chest a pat and rose up on one elbow. She tossed back her damp, wildly curling mane and smiled. "Well, sugar, that was great, but I gotta run."
"Whoa. Where're you going, Red?" Dan's arm clamped tighter around her, holding her in place when she tried to roll away.
"Home. A girl needs her beauty sleep, you know, handsome."
"You're not going anywhere just yet. We need to talk, Maggie."
"Talk? About what?" She fluttered her lashes and looked at him with feigned puzzlement. But she knew what was coming. She could see it in his eyes.
"About us. About what just happened."
"Don't be silly, sugar. There's nothing to talk about. We simply got carried away by the exhilaration of the storm and shared a few moments of pleasure. No harm done. We're both adults here. Don't worry about it, sweetie." She made another attempt to get up, but Dan tightened his hold again.
"Now, sugar, let me go. Look, you don't even have to get up. Just tell me where to find the keys and I'll drive myself home in your truck. If it's still raining in the morning I'll pick you up," she said reasonably, but he wasn't about to be sidetracked.
"What is this, a brush-off?"
"No, of course not."
"Sure sounds like one to me. A quick rod in the hay, then so long, sailor."
"Oooh, I didn't know you were in the navy, handsome."
"Knock it off, Maggie. I'm not in the mood for any of your flippant remarks. I want to know what the hell is going on. One minute you're melting in my arms, and the next you can't wait to get away from me."
Maggie sighed. Why couldn't he just let her leave and spare both of them an awkward scene? "Look, I didn't want you to feel cornered, okay? I thought if I kept it light you would know that I don't expect anything to come of this. That there are no strings."
He stared at her so long that she began to squirm. "That's what this is about?" he said finally. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe I want something to come of this? That I want strings?"
"No!" she blurted out in amazement before she thought.
"Why not?"
"I, uh, I'm not…" She groped for an evasive answer that would satisfy him and drew a blank. "Yes?"
"I'm not exactly the kind of woman that men…"
"Go on. That men what?"
Now Maggie felt cornered, and she didn't like it. "Do we have to talk about this?"
"Yes, I believe we do. That men what, Maggie?"
"I'm not lovable, okay?" she spat at him. "There, are you happy now?"
"Lord, no. You can't be serio
us. Have you looked in a mirror lately, Red?"
"Oh, men drool and pant over me and try to get me into the sack, but that's just because of the way I look."
"That's just plain crazy."
"Is it? Would we be here in this bed right now if I looked like a troll? I don't think so."
Dan chuckled. "A troll with a smart mouth. Now, there's an image."
"That's no answer."
"All right, so the way you look is a factor. But physical attraction is the first step toward deeper feelings. It has to be. It's impossible to fall in love with someone if they revolt you or leave you cold."
His use of the word love set up a fluttery sensation in the pit of her stomach that was part yearning and part stark terror. "That may be. I wouldn't know. I've never gotten beyond the first step. You may not believe me, but before tonight, I've had only two lovers. With both Brian and Hank I thought that maybe—just maybe—I'd found the man of my dreams, but neither of them stuck around long.
"To most men I'm just a trophy date. They love to be seen and photographed with me at parties and premieres, gallery openings, that sort of thing. It's a way of saying to the world, 'Hey, look at me, I'm dating Maggie Malone, supermodel.' But they don't fall in love with me."
Dan slowly shook his head, his eyes full of sorrowful amazement. "Ah, Maggie, Maggie. What has Jacob done to you?"
She stiffened. "This has nothing to do with my father."
"The hell it doesn't. You've convinced yourself that he doesn't love you, and if your own father can't love you, then it stands to reason that no one can, particularly a man. Rather than risk more rejection, you hide behind flippant remarks and a facade of unconcern and don't let any man close enough for anything deeper to develop."
"That's not true."
But it was, and Maggie knew it. That was why she'd never been seriously involved with any man, why she seldom even bothered to date. She flirted outrageously precisely to keep men off balance.
That Dan had seen through her so clearly shook Maggie to her core and left her trembling inside.
"Sure it is. You do it all the time. Whenever you feel threatened or pressured or anyone gets too close, that glib tongue of yours goes into action. Well, I'm warning you, Maggie, now that I know what's behind it, that little trick isn't going to work on me anymore."
