by Debra Webb
“Do you have a photo album?” he asked as he glanced curiously around the room.
The room just wasn’t large enough to allow much distance. And with him only about four feet away, she could feel his pull…that biological man-woman thing. She folded her arms over her chest protectively and tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I don’t recall being shown any photo albums at your house,” she reminded, any kind of chatter to distract herself. Wasn’t this about hospitality? He’d shown her a good time in his home state, now it was her turn. But she wasn’t about to give more than necessary. She’d already lost far too much to this cowboy.
He threw up a hand in surrender. “You’ve got me on that one. I did fall down there.” He grinned. “But, I did take you to church with me. Is that one on the agenda?”
She shrugged. “We could call my mom, but then she’d faint when I told her I needed to go to church. So I guess I can offer you the photo albums in lieu of that.”
John moved toward her, every step deliberate, that blue gaze searing into hers. “Why, you heathen. Don’t tell me you’ve been remiss in your church activities?”
She sighed. “Guilty. But I promise to do better.” And she did. That was something she’d meant to improve upon. Everyone needed some spiritual uplifting occasionally. And it would make her mother happy. She’d been thinking quite a bit about her family lately. Maybe something good had come of her heart-wrenching visit to Texas. His last step brought him into her personal space, entirely too close for keeping her head on straight.
“Amy.” He took her hands in his. “Can we be serious for a minute here?”
Her heart stuttered. “I guess so.” She so did not want to get her hopes up about why he was really here. She’d spent all evening avoiding the bottom line. Her heart couldn’t take another let-down any time soon.
“I’ve done a lot of thinking—”
The kettle whistled, long and loud, cutting him off. “I’ll be right back.” She pulled free of his hands and hurried to the stove. Quickly turning off the burner, she emptied the instant café mocha packets into two mugs. When she’d stirred in the hot water, she carefully lifted the cups and carried them to the coffee table. The whole time she chanted a silent prayer that she wasn’t setting herself up for another enormous let-down. Once was enough in this lifetime.
He waited until she had taken her seat to settle into the chair across from her. When he would have continued with whatever he’d intended to say she lunged to her feet.
“You wanted to see a photo album.”
Giving herself a mental pat on the back she hurried to the bookshelves built into the wall near her television set and picked through the albums until she found the one she wanted. She simply wasn’t ready to hear whatever he wanted to talk about. He’d had her as horny as hell for hours tonight. She needed to calm down, brace herself before she allowed any other stimuli.
She sat down on the sofa and spread open the album on the coffee table between them. He scooted the steaming cups aside to make room.
“School years,” she told him, flipping slowly through the pages that showed an elementary-school student with long pigtails and well-worn jeans. She’d always been a tomboy. Just had to prove that she could do anything the boys could. Well, most anything anyway.
“You’re cute,” he teased, affection beaming in his smile. “Those pigtails are something. Did you break all the little boys’ hearts?”
“No, but I kicked most of their butts.”
“Ouch.” John laughed. “What’d your folks have to say about that?”
She puffed out a big breath. “Well, my mom prayed every night that I’d turn into a lady. Finally she just gave up and accepted me for what I am. My dad was just happy I wasn’t running around the yard squealing like all the other little girls on the block.”
John turned to the next page. “Any brothers or sisters?”
Amy pointed to a photo of her and her three brothers. “Three bratty older brothers.”
“No wonder you knew how to kick butt.”
For a long while John appeared content to pore through the pages of her past. Amy was definitely happy just watching him. She liked the little crinkles around his eyes when he smiled at something he saw in one of the photographs and the breathy chuckles that made her shiver with desire. He’d tossed his cowboy hat aside and looked totally relaxed for a guy in a suit. A grin widened her lips when she thought again of him on that dance floor in cowboy boots and business suit. He’d definitely risen to the challenge.
She twisted her hands together in her lap to still the fingers itching to tunnel through his thick blond hair. From there her mind immediately conjured the image of his wide shoulders and sculpted chest, bared for her searching hands, the tight rings of muscle that encircled his abdomen, and those long, lean legs. She swallowed at the nebulous lump in her throat. Mercy, the man was gorgeous. The numerous qualities listed on that magazine poll for the perfect male instantly ticked off in her mind.
Oh yes, he was quite the perfect specimen.
But…why was he here?
Was he simply trying to make amends? He could be one of those people who hated to be at odds with anyone. This could be nothing more than a friendly visit to put a good spin on a bad parting.
“Why did you really come here?” It startled Amy when she realized the question had come from her.
His fingers stalled when he would have turned the page and he slowly closed the album. He moistened those made-for-sin lips before meeting her gaze. “You ready to talk now?”
He was right. She was the one who’d been putting off this moment. But it had to come eventually. Better now than when she woke up in his arms tomorrow morning. She was pretty sure that was going to happen. She’d watched the way he looked at her all night. Knew what she felt as well. This whole evening had been spiraling toward that end. Before she opened herself up to that kind of risk again, she had to know.
He leaned forward, braced his forearms on his widespread knees and looked directly into her eyes. “You made me fall in love with you, Amy. No matter what else happened, that’s a fact. It doesn’t seem to matter that I didn’t even know your name or anything else about you. It just happened and I can’t pretend it didn’t.”
She lifted her chin in defiance of her own emotions. Her heart was racing already, her pulse tripping madly. But she had to hear it all. “What about the Winterbornes and the merger? You said the papers were signed today.” That had to mean they’d come to an agreement and she’d been under the impression that that would include a marriage between him and Regina.
He drew in a deep breath and considered the question for a moment. “I’d be lying to you if I told you that the Winterbornes didn’t still want to pursue the other aspect of the arrangement, but that isn’t going to happen.”
Amy held a firm leash on her emotions. Not yet, she told her heart. “Then they are fully aware of your intentions?”
“They’re still in denial, but they’ll come around. Regina isn’t the kind of woman I’m interested in spending the rest of my life with. She’s damn sure not the one I’m in love with.”
“But,” Amy interjected, still afraid to let go and feel all that was welling inside her, “you were prepared to marry her. You even proposed to me when you thought I was her.”
“I proposed to you,” he said pointedly. “It was you that I fell in love with…you that I want in my life.”
She wanted to believe that. Her hands wrung together more tightly. “How can you be sure? You don’t even know me.”
The smile that lit his face turned those beautiful eyes an even darker, more vivid shade of blue. “I know you.” He tapped his chest. “You’ve been right here since we first kissed.”
She couldn’t say for sure who moved first, but they were suddenly in each other’s arms. He held her tight against his heart for a long while before drawing back to peer into her eyes. “I love you, Amy, don’t doubt that. I came here for you.”
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nbsp; As his lips descended to meet hers she closed her eyes and fell headlong into the kiss. Her arms wound around his neck, urging him closer. His hands skimmed down her back to rest on her bottom. It felt so good to be in his arms once more.
She could stay right here forever.
JOHN WANTED this night to be special. Just pressing his lips to hers nearly undid him. This time he intended to make love to her the right way, slowly, thoroughly and in a bed.
Lifting her into his arms, he murmured, “Where’s your bedroom?”
“Last door down the hall.” She nipped at his bottom lip. “Hurry, John.”
He wanted the fire to build slowly, but that didn’t look like a possibility. The moment he settled her on her feet in her room, they ripped each other’s clothes off, tossing them this way and that. The sight of her perfectly made breasts, small and firm, took his breath. Those dusky nipples had hardened like tiny pearls. He couldn’t help himself, he had to taste her.
His mouth closed around one sweet, taut nipple. She cried out with the pleasure of it. He sucked the firm little tip, nibbled it with his teeth, then soothed it with his tongue. Her body arched against him, her pelvis pressing against his.
As he tortured her other breast he lifted her to him, then slowly lowered her onto the bed. The silky smooth feel of her skin all along his had him ready to explode. He wanted this to last…wanted to make her come over and over again before he went over the edge himself. He ticked off the names of all the players on his favorite baseball team from back when he still had the time for being a sports fan…calculated the wins versus losses from the best season.
It didn’t help.
She wrapped those toned legs around him and the battle was over. He had to get inside her now. He positioned himself and plunged forward, sinking swiftly into her tight, slick heat. They cried out together, their kisses muffling the sound. The frenzy kept right on building and building with each thrust of his hips, with each pull and drag of her velvety depths. The sound of their choppy breathing filled the air. Every muscle in his body tensed for the coming eruption. Pleasure coursed through his veins like pure, liquid heat. His heart pounded so hard he wasn’t sure he would survive another second, but he kept pumping into her…couldn’t stop.
She came first, hard and fast, bowing up off the covers, screaming his name. The sound of it riding the wave of her pleasure touched him as nothing else could. He fisted his fingers in her hair and pulled her closer, kissed those sweet lips and then he bucked into his own completion. The sensation of release jolted his senses, gripped his muscles to the point of pain and then let go, every ounce of tension in his body pouring out of him, filling her with the seed of his heart and soul.
“I love you, Amy,” he murmured.
She stared up into his eyes and finally said the words he’d waited so long to hear, “I love you, John.”
Chapter Fourteen
Amy moaned, a feeling of satisfaction sinking all the way into her bones. It was morning, she knew, but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes. It felt glorious just to lie here and think about making love with John. All those wonderful hours throughout the night, then they’d drifted off to sleep wrapped in each other’s arms. A wicked memory, him waking her just before dawn and taking her fast and furiously, sent a smile sliding across her lips.
This was the way it should be.
Forever.
She slowly cracked opened her eyes, almost hating to give up that slumberous state of warmth and dreaminess just before allowing that first glimpse of morning light. But she wanted to see him. To revel in that amazing male body, all naked and hard just for her. She wanted to look into those heart-stopping blue eyes and hear him say those four little words again.
I love you, Amy.
She froze.
The other side of the bed was empty. Her hand moved over the rumpled covers. Cold. He’d been gone for a while. Then she saw the note on the pillow.
Pushing up to a sitting position, she shoved the hair back from her eyes and hastily read the note he’d written.
Amy,
I didn’t want to wake you…you were sleeping so peacefully. I have some very important matters that can’t wait to attend to. I’ll call you at the office later. Will you spend the weekend with me? Here or there…it doesn’t matter. As long as I’m with you.
Love,
John
She smiled and allowed the tenderness of his words to warm her for a while before she crawled out of bed. Most likely she’d be late this morning, but she’d make up for it. Mildred would understand and she’d square it with Victoria if the need arose.
As Amy showered and prepared for the day a kind of uneasiness began to knot in her stomach. She loved John…there was no doubt. He was the perfect man—the perfect one for her. They had a lot to learn about each other yet and that would take time. Her fingers stilled in their work of braiding her hair. Her married friends had told her she would know when she’d met the one. She’d even heard the guys around the office talk about finding that certain someone who changed their whole lives, who made everything different from that point forward.
John was the one.
But his home was in Texas. His work was in Texas, discounting this new merger with Edgar Winterborne and even that could be in Texas for all she knew.
Her home was here. Her family. And her career. The very one she’d longed for all these years. She’d finally taken the first step. It was going to happen. It was real, no more dreaming.
How on earth would they ever make that work?
Amy shook off the worry. Right now she wanted to enjoy the feeling of being in love and having that love reciprocated. They could worry about and work out the technicalities later.
After locking the door Amy flew down the stairs and jumped into her car. Too late to catch the bus this morning. Besides, this definitely qualified as a special occasion. Thirty minutes later she was at the office. She planned to stay close to her desk until after John called.
As she exited the elevator the new receptionist, Elaine, offered a bright smile and a cheery good morning. Amy waved a hello and dashed straight to her cubicle. She didn’t have her own office yet, but that would come. The research department was a large room with cubicles for the numerous employees. At least it was her own private space. She liked it.
“Morning, Amy,” Will called.
He was fairly new, but really smart. He was a part-time law-school student and full-time employee. Amy wasn’t sure how he kept up the pace, but somehow he managed.
“Hey, Will.”
He sipped his coffee and simultaneously offered her the paper from under his arm. “I’m through with it if you’d like to see it.”
“Thanks.” She took the paper and tossed it on her desk. With Will around she’d never have to worry about paying for a subscription to the Tribune. She’d never seen a guy scan the paper so fast.
After grabbing a cup of coffee and checking in with Mildred, Amy settled at her desk and looked over her list of files to review for the day. Not so bad. Maybe if she got ahead of the game she could slip away early tomorrow. She wasn’t sure she was ready to go back to Texas yet. Facing J.R. and Beckman and all those other people would take some courage-building. Maybe in a couple of weeks. But John could spend the weekend here.
As if some intuition had forewarned her somehow her gaze went straight to the headlines on page two like a laser-guided homing device. Winterborne–Calhoun Merger Surprises Entire Industry. Wedding of the Century to Follow.
Amy blinked…read the headline again.
She wanted to rip the paper to shreds! To call the reporter and demand a retraction, but the only thing she could do was to keep reading. Morbid fascination held her in a kind of trance.
…a source inside Calhoun Oil stated that oil tycoon John Calhoun, IV, and Miss Regina Winterborne will be married in a quiet ceremony in Texas, date and time unspecified for security purposes. The happy couple apparently fell for e
ach other during the course of business negotiations. This merger makes the newly formed Cal-Borne Alliance the largest American-owned oil company on the planet.
Amy’s eyes moved slightly to the right where she found a shot of J. R. Calhoun and Edgar Winterborne leaving the Winterborne Building, next to that photo was one of John and Regina who were arm-in-arm.
Something shattered deep in Amy’s chest…the pain was far worse than that she’d suffered a few days ago when John had discovered her true identity.
How could this be?
He’d come to her yesterday…spent all evening…all night with her. Made love to her. Told her he loved her…invited her to spend the weekend with him.
She stared at the paper. This had to be wrong.
Slowly laying the paper aside, she reached for the telephone. She punched in the number for John’s office. He’d said he would call her. It was past nine. He’d either be back in Texas by now or his secretary would know when to expect him. A man of his stature—the oil tycoon—certainly wouldn’t just disappear without telling someone his whereabouts.
“John Calhoun, please,” she said to the crisp, professional-sounding receptionist.
It hadn’t occurred to Amy until she’d read that article just how different she and John were. She had no money, just a tiny savings account. She rented her apartment and her ten-year-old car was finally paid for. Her parents were just working-class people and her brothers were all either cops or firemen.
She swallowed tightly. John was rich…really rich. Why would he want her? That uneasiness started to twist in her tummy again. She had nothing to offer…she’d lied to him, pretended to be someone she wasn’t.
But what about last night?
Surely that was real.
