by Cara Marsi
The minute Tom parked his car in front of her apartment house, Mary Beth unbuckled her seat belt and reached for the door handle. She had been way too forward, letting him hold her, telling him he was cute. She needed to get away before she made a complete fool of herself.
“Thanks for everything,” she said in the most polite voice she could manage. “You don’t need to get out of the car.”
“I’ll walk you to your door.” His firm voice brooked no argument.
He cupped her elbow, helping her along the brick pathway and up the steep stairs to the second floor.
“You got me safely home,” she said, leaning against her apartment door.
“I hope I didn’t keep you out too late.” He stroked his finger along her cheek. The dim light from the hall lamp cast an intimate glow over his sculpted features.
She studied him, the high cheekbones and straight nose, the deep blue eyes. No man had a right to be that wickedly handsome…to make her want him so badly.
Warning bells sounded in her head. She needed to escape. Fast.
She ran her tongue over her dry lips. Tom’s gaze fastened on her mouth.
The alarms rang louder, but she ignored them.
Reaching out a trembling hand, she ran a finger over his full, warm lips. His eyes darkened with a longing that made her want to draw closer. Scared of her own weakness, she backed away instead.
He pulled her to him. She floated on air, wrapped in a bubble of pleasure. He bent his head. She lifted her face, craving his touch. His slow, thorough kiss made her fears fly away.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against her lips.
She twined her arms around his neck and leaned back to stare into his eyes. “I had such a good time tonight,” she whispered. “Why don’t you come in?”
He leaned his forehead against hers. “Sweetheart, it’s late.” He took deep breaths, then moved back to cup her face. “I want you, Mary Beth, but not like this, when you’ve been drinking.”
Humiliation swirled through her. She’d let her guard down and enjoyed a magical evening, one she didn’t want to end. She’d offered herself to him, and he’d rejected her. Again. Apparently he couldn’t wait to get away from her.
She reached down to grab the purse she had dropped and fumbled in it for her keys. She let out a cry of frustration when she failed to find them.
“Mary Beth.” He grabbed her shoulders. She twisted her head away from him.
“No. Look at me, Cat Eyes.” He took her chin between his fingers and tilted her face until their eyes met. “I must be crazy,” he said, shaking his head, “but it’s best if I go now.”
He took her purse and reached in to extricate the keys, then handed her the bag and unlocked the door. It swung open at his touch.
She turned, eager to escape into the sanctuary of her apartment.
He pulled her gently around to face him and traced his thumb along her bottom lip. “I had a great time tonight, Cat Eyes.”
CHAPTER SIX
Thump! The heavy weight landing on Mary Beth’s chest woke her with the force of an electric current. Heart palpitating wildly, she gasped and opened her eyes to bright sunlight and Missy’s furry face inches from hers.
The cat wailed a loud “feed me” cry. Pushing her pet gently aside, Mary Beth turned to look at the bedside clock. She groaned as pain, like tiny meat cleavers, stabbed her head.
“Oh, God,” she said, settling back on the pillow. Her mouth was dry and fuzzy-feeling and she would gladly chop off her head to relieve the agony. She was due at work an hour ago. And it seemed as if she’d only just fallen asleep.
“Oh, God,” she moaned again as last night came rushing back to her. Tom. She’d thrown herself at him. Again. And he’d rejected her. Again. Only this time others didn’t watch, cheering.
Anger at herself and embarrassment had given her a restless night. She pressed a hand to her queasy stomach and took deep breaths.
The shrill ringing of the phone made her jump. The knives in her head sliced harder.
The answering machine in the living room clicked on. “Mary Beth, are you there?” Tom’s voice—loud, urgent—made her wince.
“Pick up right now or I’m coming over.”
Tom here? No way, her addled brain cried. Gingerly, with an unsteady hand, she reached for the phone next to the bed.
“Yes?” she rasped.
“Are you all right? Gail’s been calling you. She’s worried sick. So am I.”
Mary Beth clutched the receiver and lay back on the bed, trying to ignore the warmth that flooded her at the concern and relief in Tom’s voice.
“I-I’m fine,” she whispered.
“You don’t sound fine,” he said. “I’m coming over.”
“No!” Sharp pain shot through her head. “Really, I’m okay. I have a wicked headache. I ate too much at the festival and I had trouble sleeping.”
“Are you sure it was the food that kept you awake?” he asked softly.
No, it’s total humiliation.
“Too much wine can make for a wicked next day,” he said with a chuckle.
She ignored his good-natured taunt. “Tell-tell Gail I’ll call her. I have to go now.” She replaced the receiver on the cradle, threw the bed covers aside, and ran to the bathroom on shaky legs.
With her stomach under some semblance of control, Mary Beth fed Missy and gave Gail a call. A long, hot shower and three extra-strength aspirin reduced her headache to a dull pounding.
She dressed quickly in loose-fitting black pants and a white T-shirt. She tried to concentrate on the routine tasks, but the memory of last night kept repeating on her like a continuously playing movie. Everything had gone so well. Why did she invite him in, setting up her own rejection? Living with stress for so long had rendered her temporarily insane, making her fling herself at the first hunk to come along.
She brushed out her hair and began braiding it, staring at her pale reflection in the mirror. Who was she fooling? Tom meant more to her than just a gorgeous guy. A lot more.
Maybe she should make love with him and dissolve twelve years of longing and wondering from her system. But she knew in her gut that making love with Tom would only sharpen her need for him.
No! That line of thinking had to stop. The true Tom had emerged that night at the formal, shattering her dreams and locking her heart in an icy cage.
A small kernel of doubt took seed in her mind. Mixed with her humiliation was the knowledge that Tom had been considerate of her all last evening, making sure she had a good time, attentive to her in front of his friends. And he’d refused to take advantage of her weakened state. Honorable in every way.
Maybe Tom was right. She should let go of the past. Start seeing him in a new light.
Anxiety made her shiver. Once she ceased being a challenge to him, he’d go back to his own kind, like before. Images of Tom disappearing into Taylor’s arms came unbidden, making her stomach churn anew.
She squeezed her eyes shut. She was financially dependent on Tom for now. Until she controlled her own finances again, she couldn’t allow herself to be involved with any man, especially Tom. Unlike her mother, she would make her own way in the world.
From now on she’d be more careful around Tom.
<><><>
“Very cool,” Gail said.
“Very ‘Titans of Industry,’” Mary Beth said, following Gail’s gaze around the spacious, luxurious boardroom of Sackett Industries.
Chairs, richly upholstered in cream and hunter green, surrounded the huge mahogany table that dominated the room. Old money whispered from the crown molding, brass chandeliers, and paintings by Andrew and Jamie Wyeth that adorned dark green walls.
Secretaries scurried in and out, setting packets at each place in preparation for the quarterly directors’ meeting. Mary Beth and Gail were catering breakfast and lunch for the Sackett directors and visiting foreign plant managers.
“It even smells like money,” Mary Beth
said, inhaling the subdued scent of cinnamon potpourri that wafted from porcelain bowls set on the elaborately carved side tables.
“Tom came from this?” Gail’s voice was filled with awe.
“This is only the boardroom,” Mary Beth said. “Imagine what his parents’ house is like.”
Gail frowned. “You’ve never been to his house?”
“No.” She shot her friend a rueful grin. “Tom and I don’t exactly come from the same social circle.”
The rich surroundings drove a tiny knife through Mary Beth’s heart, a reminder of the differences between her world and Tom’s. He may have befriended her once, but when the time came he’d chosen his wealthy friends over her. He’d been no different from her father.
“Guess we’d better man our stations,” Gail said, glancing at her watch.
Mary Beth followed Gail to the marble-floored gathering area where white-clothed tables groaned under the weight of heavy silver coffee urns and homemade pastries and sweets. Almond and vanilla coffee flavors competed with the mouth-watering scents of honey, sugar, cinnamon, and fruit. Uniformed food workers from the Sackett cafeteria stood ready to serve the meeting attendees.
“The Sacketts sure know how to throw a party,” Gail said. “Here’s Tom now.”
Mary Beth swung around. Tom strode toward them, the picture of wealth, power and virility in his exquisitely tailored charcoal gray suit and snowy white shirt. Her breath caught in her throat.
When his gaze touched hers, he threw her a smile that made her heart tumble against her chest. She hadn’t seen him since the Greek Festival five days ago. The time apart had softened her embarrassment at the way she’d thrown herself at him and her humiliation at his rejection. They’d talked on the phone a few times to discuss the menus for today’s meeting, but she had kept their conversations polite and businesslike.
“Morning,” he said when he reached them. His attention still on her, he said, “Everything looks and smells terrific, but I wouldn’t expect anything less from my two favorite caterers.”
Mary Beth summoned all her strength to keep her voice calm. “Good morning.” She felt sure Tom could hear the wild thumping of her heart.
“Cozy little place you’ve got here,” Gail said, drawing his attention.
“We like it,” he said with a laugh.
“It is pretty fabulous,” Mary Beth said, focusing on a luxurious Oriental rug that adorned a portion of the marble floor. Tom’s closeness and the familiar subtle scent of his cologne mixed a dangerous brew that threatened her control.
“The others should be arriving soon,” he said. “Do you have everything you need? Any questions?”
“We’re fine,” Mary Beth said, turning back to him. “Your staff’s been great.”
He smiled. “I can’t wait to taste your Maryland crab cakes at lunch.”
“The crab cakes are one of Mary Beth’s specialties,” Gail said. “Let’s hope they’re a hit with your guests.”
“They will be. The Bennetts are still raving about the meal you prepared for them.”
Jealously, like a bitter herb, cramped Mary Beth’s stomach. The Bennetts. No doubt Tom and Taylor spent time together. She chewed her lip, fighting her jealousy. So what? She didn’t care about his personal life.
“Mary Beth, can I talk to you a minute?” Tom’s gaze probed hers. “Alone.”
Excitement and apprehension formed a heavy ball in Mary Beth’s chest. She backed away, putting distance between them. “Gail needs me,” she said, clutching at any excuse to avoid being alone with him.
“Don’t worry about me,” Gail said. “Everything’s all set here. Go ahead.”
Mary Beth gave Gail a quelling look before Tom cupped her elbow to lead her to a quiet corner of the large room.
“What do you want to discuss that Gail can’t hear?” She tried to sound cool but she couldn’t mask the huskiness that softened her voice.
He continued to hold her elbow, standing so close she could see the light shadings of a beard on his clean-shaven face. God, but he looked good enough to eat. She tamped down the crazy urge to slide her fingers over his smooth lapel and trail a path to his firm jaw.
“We have to talk about the other night, after the festival,” he said. “Unless you want me to invite Gail over to listen.” He raised an eyebrow.
“No!” Her face burned. “There is nothing to discuss. We ate great food. Lots of great food. Lots of great wine too,” she added with a wry smile. “And we had a good time. That’s all.”
“Just be quiet and listen to me for once.” His gaze held hers. “I wanted to come in but I didn’t trust myself alone with you. And I didn’t want you to hate me in the morning. I accompanied you to the festival because I wanted to be with you, not for any ulterior motive. I didn’t want you getting the wrong idea.”
Could she believe him? She lifted her chin. “It’s okay, Tom.” She’d never let him guess the humiliation she’d felt that night.
He relaxed his stance. “No hard feelings then?”
She shook her head.
He kept staring at her, making her fidget. She had to get away so she could breathe normally again.
“I have work to do,” she said, turning.
“Not so fast.” He gently pulled her back and stroked his finger along her jaw with the merest whisper of a touch. “Just because I left doesn’t mean I don’t want you and don’t want to be with you. I do. A lot. And I think you feel the same about me.”
She looked down before he saw the answering awareness she knew reflected in her eyes.
Muted voices reached them, becoming louder as the first of the meeting attendees rounded the corner.
“I have to go,” she said, relieved to escape before she made a fool of herself again.
“We’ll talk later,” he said.
“I think not.” She walked away.
“What was that about?” Gail asked when Mary Beth joined her at the head table.
She shrugged. “Nothing.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“Don’t push it, Gail. I still haven’t forgiven you for setting me up to go to the festival with Tom.”
“You don’t mind as much as you pretend.”
“Can it.” She narrowed her eyes at Gail.
“We’ll continue this later,” Gail said. “Brace yourself. The locusts are descending.”
The reception area quickly filled with men and women, all dressed in business suits. Briefcases and laptops had been left in the conference room, freeing them to enjoy the coffee, juice and sweets.
Subdued voices, foreign and American, floated to Mary Beth’s ears. The delicate fragrances of expensive perfumes mingled with the pungent-sweet scents of the coffee and pastries.
Gail nudged her. “Look at the Viking. And he’s heading this way.”
A tall, well-built blond man shouldered his way through the crowd. His sophisticated carriage and the stylish cut of his clothes shouted European lineage and tailoring.
“Ladies,” he said when he reached them. His gaze shifted between the women, coming to rest on Mary Beth.
“Kurt von Zuben,” he said. “Plant manager of the Munich branch.” He spoke with a thick German accent. His sleek, practiced smile made the hairs on Mary Beth’s nape stiffen.
“Mary Beth Kendrick,” she said coolly.
“Gail O’Connell,” Gail said.
“Two beautiful women who cook like angels. Only in America.”
His pale silver gaze ran up and down Mary Beth, making her shiver. “I have a weakness for redheads,” he said. “Especially beautiful ones.” His charm-filled voice slid over Mary Beth like rancid cooking oil.
“I am here in your wonderful city for only three weeks,” he said. “Perhaps you will show me around. I promise you a good time.”
“Von Zuben.” Tom, his jaw set in a tight line, appeared at the man’s side. “There’s someone I want you to meet.” Tom ushered the man away.
The German
glanced back at Mary Beth. “We will talk later.”
“Everyone wants to talk to me later,” she muttered. “I don’t intend to be anywhere near here once lunch is over.”
<><><>
“Good morning, Mrs. Hagerty.” Tom’s deep voice drifted from the reception area to the kitchen.
Mary Beth’s hands froze over the pan of stuffed capons she was about to put into the oven. She turned slowly to face the doorway.
“Are they both in?” she heard Tom ask.
“Just Ms. Kendrick.”
“Good. I have an important meeting with Ms. Kendrick. We’d appreciate it if we weren’t disturbed.”
“Of course, Mr. Sackett.”
Tom strode into the kitchen. Mary Beth scanned his tall, muscular form, clad in faded jeans and a white shirt opened at the collar to reveal a triangle of fine dark hair. Need and awareness rose up in her. She leaned against the counter for support.
“I’m doing better at announcing myself,” he said. “I didn’t startle you this time.”
“No, but you surprised me. What was that about a meeting? If it’s business, Gail won’t be back for another hour.”
“Oh, it’s business all right, but it concerns just the two of us.” He walked slowly toward her, a gleam in his eyes. The counter edge pressed into her back.
A shaft of midmorning sunlight lit her face. She shivered, despite the warmth.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“No.” She slid away from him to the other end of the long counter. He didn’t follow.
“Why are you here?” She took deep breaths and willed her fluttering heart to settle down.
He folded his arms across his chest. The sunlight winked off the stainless steel links of his expensive watch. Nature’s little reminder of the differences between her and Tom.
“I’m on my way to the airport,” he said. “Some problems at our Pittsburgh plant. I’m the only one available to go up there and straighten things out. I’ll be back in time for my parents’ party in two weeks. I had to see you before I left.”
Some of the air escaped Mary Beth’s lungs at the thought of two weeks without Tom and his disturbing, though exciting, presence.
