A Bridge to Dreams

by Sherryl Woods

  Brad glanced at those photos, which were a taunting reminder of a past he’d only recently had to give up. The sacrifice still hurt. Left to his own devices, he’d have stripped the walls of every last picture, but they were his father’s pride and joy. Ripping them down would have shown his father just how much sacrificing his racing career had meant. Since that would only cause his father pain, there was no point in it.

  Brad focused his attention on the petite, dark-haired imp before him. Before she could vanish like a woodland sprite, he settled her into a chair and gave her a cup of coffee. She was probably in her mid-twenties, but she seemed so young compared to the sophisticated women he usually met. He wondered fleetingly if he ought to be offering her milk instead. He perched on the side of his desk and studied her with blatant interest. The fact that she was obviously flustered by the intense scrutiny fascinated him.

  “You won’t get rich making deals like that,” she told him sternly. “Not that I’m not grateful, you understand, but it’s bad business.”

  “I’m already rich,” he confided. If his father hadn’t seen to that, his own success on the racing circuit would have ensured it. He’d discovered long ago that money was useful, but it didn’t solve all the world’s ills by a long shot.

  “Plan to stay that way?” she said, obviously still worried about his rash decision to make a deep slash in the price of the car.

  “Absolutely. Another few hundred dollars from you won’t make that much difference in our bottom line for the year, so don’t worry about it,” he said, minimizing the cut. He had a hunch if she knew exactly how much he’d subtracted, she’d have demanded to know what he expected in return and bolted from his office in a huff.

  “But why’d you do it? For all you know I could make a habit of going around, conning men into giving up their cars at rock-bottom prices.”

  He laughed at the idea of anyone with a face that innocent being a con artist. “I doubt it.”

  “Why?”

  “I saw you get off the bus. I watched you walk through the lot. You obviously needed cheering up. You looked as though you were on some sort of grim mission.” In fact that was what had brought him out of his office in the first place. He’d been drawn by that aura of dejection. He probably should have lived a few centuries earlier, so he could put on his armor and ride off to save damsels in distress. The knight-in-shining-armor syndrome was definitely out of step in this day and age. Most women had no interest in being saved from much of anything—except maybe dragons, but they were in short supply.

  “Very perceptive,” she was saying with a hint of surprise.

  “You didn’t really want to buy a car?”

  “I wanted a trip to Hawaii.”

  He nodded sagely. “There aren’t many of them on the lot today. Did you think of trying a travel agent?”

  “I did,” she said with a heartfelt sigh. She held up her hand, her finger and thumb a scant inch apart. “I was this close to going. This close,” she repeated mournfully.

  “What happened?”

  “Ruby died.”

  She sounded so sad again that he felt instantly sympathetic. No wonder she’d looked so forlorn. No wonder he’d wanted to rush to her rescue. “I’m sorry. Ruby was your…?”

  “My car.”

  “Oh.” His sympathy waned, but not his fascination. “So you’re buying a car, instead of taking a trip you’d badly wanted to take.”

  “Exactly.”

  “You can always take the trip next year. Hawaii will still be there.”

  “That’s what Joe said.”

  The mention of this Joe unsettled Brad in a surprising way. For some reason it bothered him that she ran around quoting some other man as though his opinions really mattered to her. “Joe?” he said cautiously.

  “My mechanic. We’ve been on very friendly terms the past couple of years.”

  He scowled. It was worse than he thought. “I see,” he muttered.

  “I doubt it, unless you’ve had a ’68 VW recently.”

  “Good heavens.” With understanding, there came an astonishing sense of relief.

  “Exactly. I’d hoped to keep it alive one more year, just until I had a chance to take this one little vacation.” She gazed at him wistfully. “Was that so much to ask?”

  “It was a lot to ask of a ’68 VW. Why was the vacation so important to you?”

  “I’d never taken one.”

  He regarded her disbelievingly. “You mean to Hawaii?”

  “I mean ever, to anywhere. I am twenty-six years old and I have never been south of San Francisco. North, east or west, either, for that matter. With seven kids in the family, we’re doing good to get everyone together on Sundays for church. We went on a picnic once. It rained.”

  “But you just said you’re twenty-six. Surely you’ve been on your own for a few years now.”

  “I have never been on my own, not the way you mean. I am the baby in the family. I have six older brothers who regard the idea of my being out after dark as worrisome at best. When I finally got through school and started earning enough to get my own apartment, they took turns standing guard at night until I threatened to call the cops on them. Now they just keep calling until I get in. Heaven knows what they’d do if I ever…” Her voice trailed off in obvious embarrassment. “Well, you know.”

  He chuckled. “I certainly do. I think I understand why you wanted to get away.”

  “Don’t be mistaken. They’re really great brothers. I just wish they all had a couple of dozen kids of their own so they’d leave me alone.”

  “You’re very loyal.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I told Ruby.” Suddenly she blushed. He loved it. “You must think I’m an idiot talking about my car as though it were a person.”

  Actually, Brad liked that about her, too. Things obviously mattered deeply to her—cars, as well as people. It beat the shallowness he usually encountered all to hell. He leaned toward her. “Mine’s Ralph,” he whispered confidentially. “Of course, I don’t dare call him that in public. I’d be laughed off the racing circuit.”

  “Then those aren’t just publicity photos on the wall. You actually do race that car?”

  “I did up until a few months ago.”

  “You quit?”

  “More or less. My father had a heart attack. The doctors told him to lighten up his workload or die within the year. We have ten of these dealerships around the state. So, here I am, making my monthly pilgrimage. Between paperwork, problem solving and trying to keep my father from sneaking into his office, there’s not a lot of time left for entering Grand Prix events.”

  “You’re very loyal, too. It must have been hard to give up something you obviously loved.”

  “I did it grudgingly, sort of the way you bought that car.”

  “But you did it, just the same. I think what you did is very noble. I never gave up anything.”

  “Except Hawaii.”

  “That wasn’t noble,” she said ruefully. “That was a necessity and I did it kicking and screaming all the way. If I could have managed without a car, I would have.”

  Brad had a sudden inspiration. “When’s your vacation?” he asked.

  “There is no vacation.”

  “I mean the dates. Have you told your boss you’re not taking off?”

  “Not yet. I think it’s called denial.”

  “Then don’t tell him. You’re going to have your vacation.”

  “But I can’t afford to go anywhere.”

  “You can take a vacation right here.”

  “This isn’t a vacation. This is home. I don’t want to waste another perfectly good vacation sitting around in my apartment cleaning the closets.”

  “Who said anything about cleaning closets? Thousands of people come to San Francisco every year. Songs have been written about this place. It’s one of the most romantic, exciting cities in the world. If you want a taste of Asia, it’s here. A suggestion of the French wine country, it�
�s here. A quaint, cliffside city by the sea like Italy’s Portofino, it’s across the Bay. Why should you go anywhere else?”

  “To get away from my brothers.”

  “Turn off your phone. Tell them you’re leaving town, if that’s what it takes. Take a fresh look at this place. Have you ever looked at the Golden Gate Bridge at twilight?” His own enthusiasm was definitely mounting as the impulsive notion took hold. He hadn’t felt this carefree and excited in all the months since his father’s heart attack. He was talking with the fervor of a tour guide. The chamber of commerce would love him. “Well,” he persisted. “Have you?”

  “Every night when I’m stuck in traffic.”

  “But have you ever really seen it?”

  “Not really,” she murmured.

  “Then for one entire, fun-filled week you and I are going on vacation in San Francisco.”

  She looked thunderstruck. To be perfectly honest, he was feeling a little that way himself.

  “You?” she whispered.

  Brad shrugged. “Why not? I’ve been noble for the past year myself. Even you said so. I deserve a vacation,” he said emphatically.

  “But you could go anywhere.”

  “I could,” he admitted readily. “But I can’t imagine a better way to spend a vacation than with a woman who just bought her very first, very flashy convertible.”

  The words rolled off his tongue with all of his practiced charm, but to his amazement he realized that somewhere deep inside he’d never meant anything more in his life. Seeing the world through her fresh, unjaded eyes just might turn out to be the best investment of time he’d ever made. Maybe they’d even turn up a few dragons for him to slay.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Karyn had never made an impetuous, throw-caution-to-the-winds decision in her life. She’d certainly never had to make one involving a man who was heart-stoppingly handsome, witty, rich and apparently famous enough to know at least half a dozen very sexy actors, if the framed photos and clippings on the wall were any indication. But during twenty-six years of nonstop struggling just to survive, the longing for adventure and storybook romance had flourished. She’d never quite gotten over “Cinderella.” From what she’d observed, the man sitting across from her had all the qualifications of a handsome prince.

  She studied him closely as she considered his unexpectedly tempting suggestion. She ticked off his attributes with the nervous anticipation of a certified public accountant hoping a column of figures would add up correctly. He had spoken of his father with genuine affection, despite the sacrifices he’d made on his behalf. He was boldly confident without being arrogant. He was impeccably dressed without being flashy. And there was an energy and vitality about him that counter-pointed her own quiet personality.

  Most important, he seemed to be trustworthy, even if points were deducted for that unnerving glint in his eyes. She had a feeling that glint was exactly the sort of thing her brothers had been worrying about since she’d reached adolescence. She rather liked the champagne-sparkly feelings those eyes set off inside her.

  He’d been very kind, very compassionate to her. She had felt an almost instantaneous rapport with him, which was all the more incredible considering the man apparently traveled in celebrity-studded circles. The closest she’d ever come before to anyone famous was when she’d subbed for the executive secretary to the senior partner in her law firm on the day his picture had been in the Chronicle.

  There was, of course, a negative side to all that fame and obvious sophistication: Brad was probably very experienced at portraying whatever image circumstances called for. Maybe in his circles it was even acceptable for him to pick up and discard women as casually as other people tossed aside old clothes. Since Karyn had never followed auto racing, she had no way of knowing for sure what sort of reputation the Brad Willis of those bold sports page headlines had in the more scandalous tabloids. Just thinking about the possibilities made her doubt her own judgment. She hadn’t exactly dated extensively. She hadn’t had time. Would she even recognize a rogue before it was too late?

  Still, she reminded herself, there were only cars and men in all those pictures on his office wall, no women. She glanced instinctively at his ring finger. It was tanned, well-manicured and unadorned. That was promising, but hardly conclusive.

  “Are you married, Mr. Willis?” she asked with the sort of bluntness she’d heard her boss use successfully in taking depositions and cross-examining witnesses in court.

  It didn’t seem to rattle him in the slightest. He grinned, in fact. “It’s Brad,” he corrected pointedly, “and obviously some of your brothers’ caution has worn off on you.”

  The evasive response made her nervous. Though Karyn kept her tone light, she persisted with a deliberateness that would have done her brothers and her bosses proud. “Isn’t it considered proper to know a little about the person one plans to spend an entire vacation with? Even if we aren’t going to be sharing hotel rooms, surely it’s important to know if we have anything in common.”

  “So you want to know if we have my marital status in common?”

  The return of that devilish glint of amusement in his eyes was plain. Karyn hoped that was a good sign. “Something like that,” she admitted. “Doesn’t it matter to you whether or not I’m married?”

  “We wouldn’t be having this conversation if you were.”

  “How do you know, though? You didn’t ask.”

  “No ring.”

  “Not conclusive.”

  “No hovering husband on the car lot to poke his head under the hood.”

  “Maybe I’m mechanical. After all, I did keep a ’68 VW alive.”

  “Joe did that,” he said, his knock-your-socks-off smile emerging again.

  “Which still doesn’t answer my question.”

  “Which one? How I knew you weren’t married or whether I am?”

  “Both, but if I have to make a choice, the latter.”

  Brad folded his hands on his desk, leaned forward, met her gaze intently and said solemnly, “No, Karyn Chambers, I am not married. There are not even any serious entanglements to speak of, now or ever. I’m afraid I’ve lived in the fast lane in more ways than one.”

  There was an intriguing note of regret in the honest admission. “Do you still?” she asked with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation.

  “Live in the fast lane? I told you I’d given up racing.”

  “And women?”

  “I’m not a monk, but the times are changing, in case you haven’t heard. And I’m older and wiser.”

  She felt like purring with satisfaction. She doubted her brothers would view the comment the same way. “How much older?”

  “I’m thirty-two. Want to see my birth certificate?”

  “No. Your driver’s license will do.”

  Never taking his eyes from hers, Brad reached for his wallet. He moved very slowly, obviously expecting her to back down from the impertinent request. Karyn determinedly held out her hand. “I’m not about to let a total stranger drive my new car until I’m sure he has a valid driver’s license.”

  Laughing, Brad handed over his wallet. It had enough credit cards in it to charge the entire stock of clothing at Nordstrom without putting a dent in his credit limit. The license told her far more than his driving status in the state of California, badly minimizing some of his best points and elaborating on a few of her own impressions.

  His eyes, which she could see for herself, were a rich, fascinating shade of emerald and were listed simply as green. Obviously the clerk who’d put it down had no imagination. He was six foot two inches tall, one hundred eighty pounds and, by her assessment, all muscle. He lived in Malibu at an address that inspired images of redwood sun decks, which were draped in vibrant pink and purple bougainvillea and opened onto wide expanses of sandy beaches. His birth date, May 15, told her he was a stubborn Taurus, which suggested that she might as well give in now about this vacation.

  She’d known for t
he past fifteen minutes she was going to do it anyway.

  Her brothers were going to kill her. Or maybe they’d kill Brad, she conceded, if they ever found out about him.

  “What’s the itinerary?” she asked before she could start worrying about how Brad would fend off the six angry Chambers men, who made up in sheer numbers and street-fighting savvy what they lacked in health-club fitness.

  “You haven’t said when your vacation begins.”

  “Technically, a week from Monday.”

  “Perfect. That gives me time to get back down to L.A., take care of a few details and free up my own time. You just leave the itinerary to me. I promise you the vacation of a lifetime.”

  “I’m not sure I can afford anything that dramatic.”

  “I promise this will be first-class all the way and it won’t cost you a dime.”

  “If you can accomplish that, maybe you should go into the travel business.”

  “I have more business than I’d like now. I certainly don’t want to get into another one.”

  That statement raised a nagging concern. “Are you really sure you want to do this?” Karyn asked. “Maybe you ought to think about it. I mean, it’s a lovely gesture, but you don’t even know me.”

  He stretched a hand across the desk, palm up, and waited for her to put her hand in his. When she did, he folded his long fingers around it in a grip that was warm and strong and reassuring. “I’ve never wanted to do anything so much in my entire life.”

  His voice practically throbbed with apparent sincerity. Karyn’s unsophisticated pulse skipped several beats and a pleasant warmth stole through her. This was definitely a man with a knack for selling. She was about to take the charm with a grain of salt, until she looked into his eyes.

  His green eyes glinted with golden sparks and his gaze never wavered. This was not the cold sheen of a precious metal, but the romantic allure of the moon and the brightness of a thousand stars.