by Helen Conrad
Shane prayed that something would hold back the dawn and let her die within the ecstasy created by the only man she would ever love.
The last week of her assignment passed like water through a sieve, despite the way she tried to cling to each moment. After her weekend in paradise, Shane found it harder to concentrate, harder to face the reality that she knew was waiting for her. Some women would have thought of her as the world’s greatest fool, giving up a life with Nick for a career that was only partially formed; a career she still had to work at in order to mold it into what she ultimately wanted. But she knew that in the final analysis, she wouldn’t be complete unless she was her own person. And besides, she thought ruefully, Nick had never repeated his proposal, never even brought up the fact that she was supposedly considering his offer of marriage.
Shane watched Nick film still another scene as she sat in the shadows of a darkening set. It was a night scene, and the conditions were perfect. Most likely he’d regretted his proposal the minute he had made it, she thought. She wasn’t going to be some pathetic, clinging vine and remind him of it. That wasn’t the kind of woman he was attracted to, she told herself. What she had had was a month made in heaven. A month that had enough passion in it to last her for a lifetime.
It would have to, she thought with tears in her eyes.
The last-minute details of filming on location took up almost all of Nick’s free time, so Shane was left to her own devices, and threw herself into her work. The article that emerged from her pen was the finest she had ever written. A labor of love, she thought with a sad smile as she sat in her lonely hotel room, trying hard not to relive every moment of their time together. Later she could take out those memories and explore them, handling them like fine, delicate Christmas ornaments to be cherished and preserved. But not now. Now they were still rimmed in pain. Now she had to work and be the bright, efficient woman who had breezed onto the set almost four weeks ago.
She accompanied Nick to the reservation again and took part in the small end-of-semester party that the students threw for him. She watched him closely and was delighted to see that he had as good a time at this party as he had had at Gloria’s charity ball—perhaps even better.
Her time alone with Nick was limited to driving to and from the reservation because of the demands of the shooting schedule. Still, she consoled herself, she’d have the last night.
Or so she thought.
“A dinner party?” she repeated, trying to hide her dismay as he presented the idea to her that last afternoon on the set. Her plan to spend an intimate evening in his arms crumbled. Perhaps he was embarrassed to be alone with her, she thought. Perhaps he was afraid she’d raise the issue of his marriage proposal. Well, he needn’t worry about that. She was adult enough to handle the situation. Still, she avoided his gaze, knowing he had the ability to see the pain that she was experiencing. Instead she watched as various crew members busied themselves with packing the equipment, getting it ready to ship back to the studio. A man Nick had introduced as the production manager was rushing around, issuing orders.
“Who’s going to be there?” she asked, pretending to be interested.
“Alexander Tate and his daughter,” Nick said. They began to walk back to his trailer. Shane concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.
She glanced covertly at Nick’s face. Was there a special light in his eyes when he mentioned Ginger? Or was that just her imagination? How loving Nick had brought her into close proximity to her best and worst emotions! She would have sworn she didn’t have a jealous bone in her body until meeting and falling for him. Even in her brief marriage, she hadn’t experienced jealousy, so much as hurt. Grow up, McCallister, she ordered sharply. Jealousy is for fools. And besides, you haven’t the right to be jealous of Nick. He hasn’t made any commitment to you.
Nick was standing in front of his trailer, and she almost walked into him, oblivious to the fact that he’d halted. He put his hands on her shoulders to steady her.
“Hey, whoa, there. What are you so preoccupied with?” he asked, studying her face.
She looked away. “Just the end of my article,” she lied. And the end of us, she tacked on silently.
“Work on that this afternoon. I’ll have Scottie pick you up at seven. Don’t be late,” he said with a wink.
“I never am,” she said, attempting to sound carefree.
“Amazing woman.” Nick laughed, blowing her a kiss.
She pretended to catch it, then turned and walked away, her heart aching.
Nick’s chef had outdone himself, Shane thought as she sat in the spacious formal dining room that evening. But she discovered that her appetite had deserted her. She wasn’t the least bit tempted by the delicate dishes that were served. Shane was placed opposite Scottie and next to Tate, who sat at Nick’s right hand. Ginger sat at his left.
Shane tried not to let the seating arrangement bother her.
“Nick tells me that you’ll be returning to New York tomorrow,” Tate said.
“Yes,” Shane replied dully. Back to New York. Back to her career. Back to her life without Nick.
“Tell me, would you consider making a career move at this time in your life?” Tate asked, taking her completely by surprise.
“I beg your pardon?” She must have misunderstood him, she thought. The question came out of left field.
“Would you consider making a career move at this time?” Tate repeated, his tone as soft and unassuming as ever.
“If a good offer came,” Shane said honestly. “I’d be more than willing to consider it.”
“Would you consider a position as a senior writer on In-depth magazine a good offer?”
Her eyes grew wide as she realized that conversation had otherwise stopped at the table and now everyone seemed to be waiting for her answer. Knowledge sizzled through her like a flash of lightning.
“In-depth magazine?” she repeated dumbly, her mouth forming an unspoken “Oh” as the truth rushed in on her. “You’re that Alexander Tate? The owner of In-depth magazine?” She hoped that the squeal she thought she uttered was only in her imagination.
“Among other things,” he told her. “How about it?” he prodded. “I realize that it would mean moving from New York. I like my writers to stay close to the home office,” he explained. “And the home office is in Los Angeles.”
He needn’t have told her that. She knew all about In-depth magazine. It was an even classier publication than Rendezvous, and the position Tate mentioned was one she would have given her eyeteeth for—if she had come by it honestly.
Shane eyed Nick suspiciously, but he merely smiled at her, appearing to be as interested in her answer as the others were. There wasn’t a trace of smugness in his expression. Had he arranged all this, or was she being unduly mistrustful?
“I would consider an opportunity to work on the staff of In-depth a godsend,” Shane said. “The move from New York would be a small price to pay for the privilege of being part of the staff of your magazine. But—“
Tate didn’t seem to hear the last word. “Fine. It’s all settled, then. Here’s my card,” he told her, fishing it out of his breast pocket and handing it to her. “Give me a call, and in private we’ll discuss salary, benefits, that sort of thing. Then, of course, I’ll have your contract all drawn up and ready for you to sign.”
Shane stared at him, stunned. It was too good to be true, she thought. Things like this just didn’t happen, except in the movies. The movies. Yes, it did smack of romanticism. It smacked of Nick.
She said nothing more on the subject for the remainder of the evening, which was short. Once Tate’s “mission” was accomplished, he and his daughter did not stay on very long. Tate said something about having an early flight to catch, and he thanked Nick for a wonderful time. And for the tickets.
“Tickets?” Shane questioned as they returned from seeing their guests off in the front drive. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Scottie making
his way up the stairs, leaving the two of them alone.
“I sent him airplane tickets.”
“To come here,” Shane said, filling in the rest of his statement.
“To come here,” he repeated, nodding.
“And offer me a job.” She felt angry tears that she only half understood forming in her eyes.
“I was hoping. Hey, what’s the matter?” he asked, his voice echoing slightly in the foyer. He looked utterly puzzled.
Shane shut her eyes. How could she make this come out right? “Don’t you see, Nick? It doesn’t mean anything if you get me the job. I have to get it. I don’t believe in favoritism. I’ve always hated it,” she said impatiently. This was another opportunity of a lifetime that circumstances were forcing her to turn her back on. She knew life was hard, but nobody had told her it was going to be this rough, she thought unhappily.
Nick took her hand and led her into the den. “You are screeching so loudly that your voice is going to crack the crystal,” he said, his eyes indicating the chandelier that twinkled and sparkled overhead. “I don’t want Bernice having heart failure in the morning,” he said, referring to his housekeeper. Firmly, he shut the door of the den behind him. Nothing but the fireplace illuminated the room. “Now, you listen to me before you get on that high horse of yours. All I did was direct Alex’s attention to you.”
“You call sending a man airplane tickets directing his attention?” she asked incredulously.
“I call that being polite,” he said. “First I had Scottie go to the local library and get back issues of Rendezvous and make copies of your articles. Then I gave Alex a call, telling him about you and offering to forward the articles. I sent the tickets because I didn’t want to inconvenience the man any further. It was his choice to come, his choice to offer you the job. Your merit got him to do that, not any magical powers of mine!”
The light of the fire bathed his face in hypnotic, warm hues. Shane reached out and ran her hand along the outline of his beard, her fingers tingling from the sensation. “Why did you do all that?” she asked.
“Because, milady, I’m a firm believer that husbands and wives should try to stay on the same side of the continent whenever possible. It makes the trip to the bedroom that much shorter,” he told her, taking her into his arms.
“Husbands and wives?” she repeated, her heart hammering so hard she knew he must feel it too.
“Um-hmm. In case you’ve forgotten, I did ask you to marry me.”
She raised her eyes to his. “I haven’t forgotten. I just believed that you’d thought better of the idea,” she said in a small voice.
“How could I have improved on the best idea I’ve ever had?”
“Then, you still want to marry me?” she asked, not able to believe it. Why her? Why did she deserve to be the lucky one, when millions of women adored him? Millions, her mind echoed.
“Still? Lady, I’d move heaven and earth to have you,” he said, his hold on her tightening as he kissed her cheek, his lips trailing off to the side of her neck.
“Why?” she asked, her mind beginning to reel, the way it always did when he touched the sensitive areas of her body.
“Why?” He chuckled. “Ah, there is a bit of female vanity to you, isn’t there?” he asked, pulling her down on his lap as he sank into the comfortable cushions of the sofa that faced the fireplace. “Because,” he said, slowly beginning to unzip the back of her dress, “you’re warm, vibrant, sensitive, intelligent, and you love me.”
She felt the shoulders of the dress slip down. “Millions of women love you.”
“Millions of women love the image of Nick Rutledge. You’ve proven you love the man. You’ve proven that you can stand being pulled out of bed at ridiculous hours, trudge manfully—woman-fully?” he amended, raising a teasing eyebrow in her direction—“up a snow-encrusted hill to ski with me. Camp out with only a few whimpers, and even put up with near-drowning without immediately thinking of either suing me or blackmailing me.” He nibbled on the soft outline of her breasts left uncovered by the top of her bra. Her dress now rested about her waist. She scarcely noticed.
“But I’ll age,” she said sadly.
“Most people do,” he pointed out. “I intend to.”
“That’s one of nature’s jokes.” She thought of all the stories she had read about men leaving their wives for younger women. How much more susceptible to that sort of temptation Nick would be than the average male, she lamented, surrounded constantly by nubile beauties all vying for his favors. “Older men are still attractive. Older women are just—older.”
Expertly, Nick unhooked her bra, slipping the delicate straps off her shoulders. “But I like older women,” he said, leering at her. “Just wait and see how wild I’m going to be around you when you’re ninety-six,” he promised, snuggling up to her freed breasts.
Darts of excitement danced through her as she cradled his head, savoring the feel of his hair against her soft skin. For a moment, she was lost in the rapture that was swiftly overtaking her.
“So will you say yes already?” Nick asked, looking up at her.
“Yes already,” Shane murmured, her heart singing.
“Good,” Nick said, sliding her off his lap and onto the sofa. He slipped the dress the rest of the way down, discarding it on the floor. She lay before him, ready. “I hate a contrary woman,” he said huskily, beginning to form a trail of kisses along her body that was meant to drive her beyond the brink of exhilaration, into a sea of joy.
And it did, bringing with it the promise of a tomorrow that would be even more wonderful than today; a tomorrow made wonderful by the continual joining of two irresistible forces.
“I love you, Nick,” Shane whispered hoarsely.
“I sure in hell hope so,” Nick said. His mouth moved to her ear, and he whispered, “Because I love you with all my heart, and soul . . . and body.”
The flames from the fireplace flickered warmly on the outlines of their bodies as they merged into one.
THE END
Marie Ferrarella
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The Women's Contemporary Originals from Marie Ferrarella--Read them all!
SAPPHIRE AND SHADOW
"A look at the grit beneath the glitz and one woman's triumph over both"--Nora Roberts
SAPPHIRE AND SHADOW is a vivid and compelling story of heart break and betrayal, of facing the death of dreams you've built your life on, of picking up the pieces and learning to live again. Johanna Whitney somehow draws from deep inside to find the strength to triumph in the end.
CHOICES
Shanna Brady has spent her whole life living in the shadow of her family, from her mother the socialite to her father the senator to her husband the aspiring politician. When she finds her husband in bed with his secretary, she vows to stand on her own. But a brilliant speech writer desperately wants to stand beside her. .
FLASH AND FIRE
She's smart, she's tough, she's beautiful. But can she type?
Never mind. Amanda knows what she's doing and she doesn't need the incredibly annoying Pierce Alexander, who thinks he's the world's gift to women, trying out his latest seduction techniques at every turn. But there he is, getting under her skin, being adorable with her baby, befriending her nanny, and ambushing her at the supermarket. She gives in--just a little--only to find him taking over her job when her main antagonist at the television station where she's an anchor sets her up for dismissal. Can she fight them all on her own?
Just watch her!
Marie's Women’s Contemporary Originals
USA Today and Publisher's Weekly bestselling author Marie Ferrarella is releasing her three hard-to-find women's contemporary novels written in the tradition of Danielle Steel, Nora Roberts and Debbie Macomber. Finally available again, these heart-tugging stories explore the tangled emotion
al lives of three women. Buy them now.
Marie’s Originals are reprints of romances published earlier by Bantam’s Loveswept line or Berkley/Jove made available again in e-book form. There are six romances currently being published in this format only.
Irresistible Forces
No Way to Treat A Lover
December 32….And Always
Smoldering Embers
Scenes From The Heart
Claimed by Rapture
We hope you will enjoy them all!
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You’ll enjoy Book 2 of Marie’s Originals:
NO WAY TO TREAT A LOVER
Only a year before, they'd shared a wildly passionate affair that seemed to be the love a lifetime -- until the day when reckless and lovely Charley Tremayne vanished from Reese McDaniel's arms. Leaving with no explanation, no promise to return, Charley ran -- chasing a perilous dream in a world of intrigue -- a world with no room for her love for Reese.
But suddenly they were thrown together by work, on a project that neither could leave... and they discovered that the fury of their need for each other had only deepened with time.
