What You Wish For

by Fern Michaels

  “Helen, rich or poor, I will love you forever and ever. I loved you before I knew you were rich.”

  “It pretty much means you’ll have to move out here. Can you handle that?”

  “Whither thou goest . . .”

  Helen winced when she lowered herself to the blanket under the stars. “You notice, I came prepared.” Sam grinned.

  “I noticed. It’s so beautiful out. There must be a zillion stars out tonight,” Helen said as she braced herself for Sam’s kiss. His lips were gentle against her brow, slipping into her hairline and descending in a path to the sensitive skin at her ear. She was aware of the spicy scent of his aftershave, of the close stubble of beard on his chin, of the softness of his lips as they traced patterns across her cheeks.

  Helen closed her eyes and sighed. Sam was a man who knew how to be tender, to wait for a woman’s response, and artfully bring her to full awareness of herself as a woman and of him as a man.

  Gently, his hand cupped her face, lifting her chin, raising her lips to his own. Then, just when she thought he would release her, his kiss deepened, the moist tip of his tongue smoothing the satiny underside of her lips and penetrating ever so softly, ever so slowly, into the recesses of her mouth.

  A riot of emotions rivered through Helen as she brought up her arms and encircled his back, her fingers smoothing over his shirt, feeling the smooth plane of muscle that bespoke energy, vitality and caring. Prolonging contact between them, she offered herself to his kiss, knowing that this man had kindled her spark of womanhood and she wanted him to bring it to a flame.

  Feeling her moist lips soften and part, Sam groaned softly as he moved his mouth hungrily over hers, tasting, savoring the feel of her lips.

  Helen could feel her breath coming in ragged little gasps as she kissed him deeply, searchingly. Nothing mattered to her, not Daniel, not Julia, or Boots’s inheritance. The only thing that mattered was Sam.

  She kissed him as she had never kissed another man. There had been other kisses, other caresses, but none that elicited this response in her.

  His gentle fingers caressed her cheek, and when he spoke, his voice was husky with emotion, little more than a whisper wafting through the night. His hand cupped her throat, and he could feel the abandoned rhythmn of her pulses, which sent a streak of fire through him. He’d wanted her from the moment he laid eyes on her. How many times he’d told her that and now he was going to tell her again . . . with actions instead of words . . .

  They were hidden from the eyes of the world, here under the stars. He would take her slowly so as to savor every exquisite moment in the pleasure they would once again share together. Only having her, losing himself within her, would satisfy.

  A golden warmth flooded through Helen as Sam brought his mouth to hers. He drew a path from one breast to the other, covering each first with his hands and then with his lips. She clung to the strength of his arms, holding fast as though she were fearful of falling in on herself, never to be found again.

  His hands spanned her waist and rounded to her buttocks, lifting her slightly from the blanket. Tortuous, teasing explorations of his tongue made her shudder. Her fingers clutched and pulled at his hair while her body arched into his, feverishly exposing herself to his maddening mouth. He searched for and found the secret places that pushed her to the brink of release, only to have his kiss follow another path before returning again to the first.

  A yearning spread through Helen, demanding satisfaction, settling at her core and forcing her to seek relief by writhing and thrashing about restlessly. Sam held her there, forcing her to him, adoring her with his hands and lips until she could no longer deny herself. Her body flamed, her back arched, and her world divided in two parts: her need and his lips. And when the tremors ceased, and his mouth covered hers once again, she tasted herself there. She was satisfied, yet discontented; she had feasted, yet she was famished. There was more she wanted—much, much more. She wanted to share with him the release of his own passion, to participate in bringing him the same wonder.

  Moving with him, becoming part of him, Helen fueled his passion and renewed her own. Together they were flung upward; together they found the moon.

  Sam’s chest heaved, his breathing raspy as Helen settled in the crook of his arm.

  “I thought I had lost you,” Sam whispered.

  “You could never lose me, Sam. I love you too much ever to let that happen. I left because I was afraid . . .”

  “Shhh,” Sam said, placing his index finger on her lips. “We already spent too much of our lives talking about Daniel Ward. He’s behind bars where he belongs. That’s the end of it. Okay?”

  Helen sighed. It was almost too good to be true. “Okay,” she whispered in return.

  They slept under the stars, their bodies pressed together as one.

  The sun peeked over the horizon at the same moment Helen opened her eyes. She lay quietly, staring at the man next to her. How dear he was. How vulnerable he looked in sleep. Only God knew how much she loved him.

  “Do I pass muster?” Sam drawled.

  “You faker. You’re awake!”

  “I’ve been awake for a long time. I didn’t want to move my arm and wake you. Do you think we can get up now?”

  “We have to get up. I must call Artie and Gerry. I’m supposed to go to a board meeting in Los Angeles. A limo is picking me up, and then I have to go in the private jet Don’tcha love it, Sam?” She chortled. “We’ll be back by six. You can come along if you like.”

  “I’ll wait here for you. What about the police and filing charges?”

  “I’ll stop on my way to the airport and sign a paper or whatever it is I have to do. You don’t think I’ll have to see . . .”

  “No. I’m going to take a shower and whip us up some breakfast. This man cannot live on love. You need to know that, Helen,” Sam said, tweaking her cheek.

  “Guess what, this woman can’t live on love either. I’ll take two eggs over easy, lots of toast, no bacon, too many nitrates. Lots of jam and soft butter. Make a big pot of coffee, too.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I love you, Helen Stanley.”

  “I love you, Sam Tolliver. Where are the dogs?”

  Sam smiled. “Over there under the tree. Max has Lucie cradled between his paws. Ah, here they come. Man and woman’s best friends.”

  “Sam, you have no idea. I have a story to tell you that will break your heart. Later, though. I just realized something. We have the rest of our lives to talk about things. Kiss me. Tell me how much you love me, Sam.”

  He did. “I love you more than I loved you yesterday, and tomorrow I will love you even more. Forever and ever and into eternity.”

  “You’re just a smooth-talking dandy, as Artie would say.”

  “Smooth, eh? I don’t think I’ve ever been called smooth before.”

  “Trust me. You’re smooth. I love smooth. Smooth is good. Boy is it good,” Helen said, swatting him on the tush as she sashayed past him on her way to the bathroom.

  Sam looked down at the dogs. “And she says I have a way with words.”

  29

  She was nervous. She wished now that she had made arrangements to be seated in the boardroom before the others arrived. Artie and Gerry had said no, she was to walk in like she owned the place. Which she did. She took a deep breath, knowing she looked her best considering the circumstances. If they wanted to pick her apart, let them. She clutched at the manila folder in her hands.

  Inside the wood-paneled room, Helen’s gaze raked those seated at the long, shiny conference table. All men, and they were all staring at her with sober faces. There didn’t appear to be one friendly face in the group. Perhaps they were worried about job security. Her back stiffened as she nodded slightly to show the men they should take their seats. Helen cleared her throat. “Good morning, everyone. I’m Helen Stanley. Why don’t we go through the meeting as if Miss Tyger were here? Tell me your names and what it is each of you does at Tyger Toys. When we fini
sh, I’ll offer my input. I do have input,” she said firmly. She saw grimaces and imagined she could hear suppressed groans.

  Helen half listened to the boring minutes as her mind wandered to Sam and the events of the night before. She wasn’t going to think about Daniel. Not now, not ever. Daniel was in other hands, and his family would have to deal with whatever was meant to happen to him. He was out of her life for good now. Hopefully, trained professionals would help him, along with his family. Thinking about him was just wasted energy. Thinking about Sam and how much she loved him was going to take up all her time from here on in.

  Tonight they were going to sit down and talk about their future and what Boots’s legacy was going to mean to both of them. Her hands in her lap, she crossed her fingers. Sam would work with her, support whatever it was she wanted to do. Max and Lucie would be together. She would continue with her business. Sam would continue teaching. What more could she possibly want? Children. Lots and lots of children. Gerry and Artie would make wonderful stand-in grandparents. If they stayed at the ranch, the two old men could continue making the daily pilgrimages they couldn’t seem to give up. Everyone would be happy. She smiled. Life was going to be so good.

  Helen felt Artie nudge her ankle. It was her turn to speak. She looked around at the expectant faces. Were they worried about their jobs or were they worried about change? The new broom sweeping clean kind of thinking.

  “For now, I want to see things continue as before. I’m new to this position, and I haven’t had time to fully learn about the toy business. I will learn, though, because Isabel Tyger entrusted this company to me. I won’t disappoint her. However, at some point we will be making some changes to move this company forward.”

  Helen opened the folder in front of her for the sketch she’d made the day before. She unfolded it and held it up. “I want you all to take a look at this picture. It’s going to be our new toy. A mascot of sorts. This toy is what’s going to move this business forward so that we are in a position to compete with the big guys. I want you all to look at it very carefully. I want this particular toy—family actually—manufactured and ready for next year’s Christmas season. The dog’s name is . . . Boots. The pups need names, all nine of them. Collectibles. Plush, soft, squeezable. A toy for a child to love and snuggle with. I want to see a blow-your-socks-off marketing campaign.” She looked at the faces as the picture was passed around the table. She didn’t see one iota of genuine interest. When the picture was in her hands again, she spoke softly. “Perhaps you didn’t understand what I just said. This is not negotiable. We will manufacture this toy. Those of you who disagree or those of you who feel you can’t give one hundred percent, leave now. I can have a new team in here in forty-eight hours. We’ll meet here again one month from today. I urge you to be creative. I want to see a prototype, and I want a good one. Don’t even think about sloughing this off with an inferior stuffed animal. I won’t tolerate it. For now we can go with a show of hands.”

  Limp hands waved in the air. She didn’t see a single smile, and the lack of enthusiasm rattled her. Artie and Gerry stared at her, wondering what she was going to do next. Obviously, she was supposed to do something. She did. Both hands smacked down on the shiny table surface. “Your lack of enthusiasm bothers me. You cannot hide in a room and look outside once in a while. Your toys are serviceable, stodgy, with no individuality. In short, they’re so outdated they are pitiful. Plus,” Helen’s voice rose to the point of shrillness, “there are no girl toys. I don’t care if a Tyger toy lasts for fifty years. It’s . . . it’s positively un-American for toys not to break. I cannot even begin to imagine why you don’t manufacture toys for girls. You need to move forward. You need to find out what children want today. Girls want toys, too. We’ll start small with Boots. One month, gentlemen. You are dismissed!” she said coldly.

  Helen pushed her chair back and was gathering up her tote bag when she heard a titter and the word feather. She thought she heard the word chain, but she wasn’t sure. Her face flamed. She swung around. “Say it to my face, sir.”

  A portly man with a bald head had the grace to look embarrassed. He stood, shuffled his feet, but stood his ground. “I have to wonder what selling feathers and belly chains has to do with the toy business. This is a family toy business. We make toys for families, families that depend on us for quality.”

  “One has to wonder, then, what you were doing viewing my web page. Am I to assume that you’ve all viewed the new owner’s site? And am I to assume you all pretty much disapprove? I see. I’ll take this under consideration when we meet again, one month from today, at which time we’ll review everyone’s performance report. Good day, gentlemen.”

  Helen flopped down on the chair the moment the conference door closed. She looked at Artie and Gerry. “I want to know why Isabel Tyger put up with this. There wasn’t one employee in this room under the age of fifty. I have nothing against age. Where are the bright shining lights? Where are the young thinkers? What happened to innovation? Where are the toys of today, tomorrow, and the future?”

  “This was the one thing Izzie was afraid to tamper with. Her great-grandfather built this company, then her grandfather ran it, and when he passed it went to her father. She hated it. She associated it with her own childhood. As long as the company made money and she was able to do what she wanted, she was okay with it. She hated these meetings because the employees treated her just the way they treated you. My advice would be to buy out their contracts, give them a good package, and start over with a crackerjack team. Artie and I will be glad to interview, hire, and put together a team who can move this company forward,” Gerry said.

  “I gave them a month,” Helen fretted. “I wouldn’t want someone to do that to me without giving me a chance. They are of an age where money is needed for retirement. I have to give them a chance.”

  Artie hooted with laughter. “Each and every one of the men seated at the conference table is independently wealthy. All they do is come in here for a few hours a day and collect a paycheck at the end of the week. Izz hated the way things ran, but she wouldn’t change it. The company runs itself the way it has for the past hundred years. Each year they make X number of wagons, X number of trucks or whatever it is they sell. I was never interested enough to make further inquiries. As I said, the company runs itself. In spite of all that, Tyger Toys shows a tidy profit at the end of each fiscal year. If you fired the lot of them right now, the only thing you would hurt is their pride. The flip side to this is they don’t like dealing with women. Izz just couldn’t handle it, so she ignored it.”

  “I guess what you’re saying is they won’t make the effort to make up a prototype. They’ll come in the next time and try to convince me it shouldn’t be done, is that it?”

  “Yes,” Artie and Gerry said in unison.

  “Okay. Let’s put together a team. Right away.”

  “Helen, don’t let what they said about your other business bother you,” Gerry said.

  “I won’t. One has nothing to do with the other. Sassie Lassie is all mine. Mine and Sam’s. I’ll never let that go. Who knows, I might even be able to give Victoria what’s her name a run for her money.” Helen laughed. “Can we leave now? This place is so depressing. All this dark, dismal paneling, all those antiquated toys in the showroom that have six inches of dust on them. Cleaning this all up and using bright paint is my next project. Right now I just want to get back to Sam. Are you coming with me?”

  “No, we’ll stay here and get started on your new team. You run along and take care of Sam. Give him our regards.”

  Helen debated a moment before she threw her arms around both men. “I want to thank you for everything. Most of all, I want to thank you for being Boots’s friends. She must have loved both of you very much. I’m just sorry I never got to know her the way you did. I’ll do my best to live up to her expectations. Call me,” she said airily.

  “All’s well that ends well, eh, Gerry?”

  “I�
�d say so. I’ll bet this is going to be some place when our Helen gets done with it. Young blood, bright ideas. Clean white paint. A toy company should look like a toy company. She was right about something else, too. It’s downright un-American for toys not to break.” Artie rubbed his hands together in anticipation of what was to come.

  “This might be a whole new career for us, Artie. All we have to do is sit and talk. Nothing physical unless we get excited. That means no arthritis flare-ups.”

  “Izz made the right choice. I was worried there for a while. Our Helen is going to do just fine. Once the police and Daniel’s doctors see all those picture we took of his apartment, things will straighten out. It all came full circle. I hope she knows what we’re doing.”

  “She knows,” Gerry said emphatically.

  Artie jumped out of the way when one of the dusty wooden wagons slipped from the peg that was holding it to the wall.

  “Told you.” Gerry laughed.

  “You slammed the door. It came loose and fell,” Artie said, looking upward.

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Yeah.” Artie grinned.

  “I love making love to you.” Sam sighed happily.

  “And I love it when you make love to me,” Helen said just as happily. “More wine?”

  “Fill that baby to the top,” Sam said, holding out a fragile, long-stemmed glass.

  “If we’re going to stay here, we need to get a bigger bed,” Helen said. “We need to talk, Sam.”

  “Yes, we do. Whatever you want to do is okay with me. I do have to finish out the semester back in Jersey. It’s just a few weeks. I can look for a job here. I don’t have to worry about furniture. He destroyed it all. I literally have nothing to pack. Are you going to like living in this house, Helen?”

  “For now. It would be a great place to bring up kids. The dogs can run to their hearts’ content. I can’t . . . I won’t abandon that little cemetery. Artie and Gerry need a place to visit. For now, Sam. There’s so much property. We can build something later on. Are you sure you’re okay with this?”