by Webb, Peggy
Joanna spent ten minutes giving vent to her emotions, then she decided that crying would accomplish nothing except a headache and a red nose. She splashed her face with water, stuck her chin out at a defiant angle and went to get her purse. She wasn’t licked yet. She knew darned good and well Kirk Maitland was too smart to give up somebody he loved. And he did love her. He’d said so. She’d just have to think of a way to make him see it.
As she was getting into her car, the words of the story she’d invented came back to her:
“The magic is believing in yourself, George Frog.” She sat on the front seat of the car—sweltering in the summer heat, totally unaware of the sprawling glass-and-concrete buildings, sublimely deaf to the clamorous sounds of traffic headed out of the city— and experienced her moment of epiphany. Kirk had fallen in love with a rambunctious, playful woman just as she’d fallen in love with a steadfast, authoritative man. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t cut out for big business, that she would never be like Marsha, that she preferred red cars to black and bangle bracelets to white collars.
“Be yourself, Joanna Deerfield,” she said aloud. That’s exactly what she’d do, she decided. She was a stubborn woman who fought for what she wanted. She’d fight for Kirk as fearlessly and recklessly as she’d fought for her independence when she first came to Tupelo. Her advantage now was that she was wiser. She understood passion and its power to control. Kirk had taught her that. She’d use that knowledge to win him back. Maybe she was being devious and unfair, but she didn’t care. Given a choice between fighting dirty and losing Kirk, she’d fight dirty any day.
She put her car into gear and pulled out of the parking lot. She’d make Kirk change his mind, starting tomorrow.
o0o
Kirk spent a miserable, sleepless night in a sterile, anonymous hotel room. Twice he almost headed to Meadow Lane on a flimsy pretext, once to get a necktie he didn’t need, and once to find a book on management techniques that had been sitting on his shelf unopened for three months.
For the first time in his life he questioned the wisdom of his decision. He’d released Joanna, but it didn’t feel right. When it came to business, he’d always had good instincts, but they seemed to have failed him in this matter. How did he know she’d find happiness with another man? Hell, was there even another man he’d trust with her? How did he know somebody else wouldn’t make her miserable? At least he would never hurt her intentionally.
Great flashes of hindsight kept him awake until almost three o’clock. The next morning he decided he looked exactly the way he felt, as if he’d been dragged through the pits of hell.
After forcing himself to swallow a tasteless breakfast of unidentified objects, he went to the bank and made the necessary moves to give Joanna financial independence. As a matter of caution and because he wanted to remain true to Grandfather Deerfield’s trust, he set up her accounts so that she would have enough money to operate for a year without having to come to him. He decided that he would retain control of her investments. Then he found a modest furnished apartment on a street that at least had trees, and arranged for the transfer of some of his clothes.
Afterward he went to Deerfield. His first conference was with his manager, Whitman Harris. He had just finished the briefing when Joanna came into his office, unannounced, closing the door behind her. She was dressed in a flamboyant outfit of bright turquoise. Her bangle jewelry tinkled as she walked. She looked young and carefree, and if she were hiding a broken heart, he couldn’t tell. He was foolishly disappointed, then he silently cursed himself for his selfishness.
“Good afternoon, Kirk.”
“Hello, Joanna. How are you today?”
“Still living. The magazines say broken hearts don’t kill. I’ve learned the hard way that it’s true.”
“I’m sorry, baby.”
“Don’t be. I haven’t given up yet.”
“Joanna.”
“Don’t worry, Kirk. I don’t mean to chase you around the sleeper sofas and through the cafeteria, but I do mean to have you.” He looked tired, she thought. She hoped that was an indication that he regretted his decision. Plumping up her resolve and her self-confidence, she perched on the edge of his desk, lifted her skirts and crossed her legs. The expression on Kirk’s face pleased her.
“I’m not above a little seduction and guile. This worked with Wexford; it might work with you.”
“Behave yourself, Joanna.”
Laughing, she hopped off the desk. “Scared you, didn’t I?”
“No. You delighted me, as always. I’m having a hard enough time keeping my hands off you as it is. Will you please sit in that chair over there and be good?”
She sat in the chair across from his desk. “Way over here, Kirk? How mean of you. How can I seduce you from halfway across the room?”
He chuckled. “You little imp. I ought to pull you across my knee.”
“You ought to lower me to the carpet and slip between my soft, satin thighs.”
“Good lord, Joanna. Where did you learn such stuff?”
“In one of the steamy novels the nuns didn’t know I had.”
“You’re still a rebel, aren’t you?”
“Yes. But a rebel with a cause.” Her bangle bracelets clanked as she reached into her purse and pulled out a sheet of paper. “The very first thing I want to tell you is that I hired a very competent woman to manage the daycare center—June Lancelot. I interviewed her this morning. She comes highly recommended. She starts work next week. The second thing is that I’ve pulled Evelyn from the marketing department to fill in until June comes.”
“I’m impressed, Joanna.”
“I’m not finished yet.” She consulted her notes. “While you were gone I noticed some things that need changing. The cafeteria has good food, but it’s too sterile and functional for real relaxation during a meal. These are my designs for revamping it.” She pulled another sheet of paper from her purse and tossed it onto his desk.
Giving him time to study the designs, she sat quietly in her chair, watching him. She loved him so much she ached. She loved the way his dark hair dipped over his forehead, the way the fine laugh lines fanned out from his eyes. She loved his hands, large, capable, strong. The urge to feel his hands on her was so great she could almost taste it.
Once he looked up from the designs and smiled at her. The memory of the night she sat in his study reading while he worked returned to her. She remembered the passionate kiss, the desperate longing. I’ll make it impossible for you to let me go. She lifted her chin in determination.
“These designs are excellent, Joanna. You have a real talent.”
“Thank you. I also have something else to tell you.”
He studied her quietly. “Go on.”
“The day-to-day operations of Deerfield Manufacturing are still beyond my comprehension. Even if I stayed here for years, I would never learn to help run this company. My mind is perceptive, not analytical. My talents are creative, not managerial. I think the only real contribution I can make to this company is in fabric design.”
She stopped, waited for his reaction, outwardly calm, a tornado inside.
“I never thought of that.”
“That’s because your thinking patterns are different from mine. To you, being a part of the company means having a command of balance sheets and financial statements.”
“You’re right.”
“I’ve been studying the fabric designs we use on our line of sofa sleepers and our patio loungers. I think I can come up with some that are more modern, more exciting.”
“What’s your proposal, Joanna?”
“A design studio. Entirely on my own. With no obligation from Deerfield to buy from me.”
He smiled. “You will, of course, give us first option on your fabric designs? A chance for you to be exclusive with us?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
“Then let’s seal the bargain.” She left
her seat, came around the desk, and leaned over Kirk’s chair. “My way.” Her tongue traced his lips.
“My God, Joanna,” he moaned.
The minute her lips touched his, her schemes were forgotten, replaced by an overwhelming need. She slanted her open mouth across his, savoring the taste of him.
With an effort she regained control, remembered her purpose.
Kirk’s hand clamped on her shoulders and pushed her away.
“This is insanity, Joanna. You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m proving to you that you’re wrong.” In spite of his hold on her, she managed to climb into his lap. Her arms slipped around his neck. “I know you love me, Kirk. Show me.”
His eyes gleamed. “You do know what you’re doing, don’t you?”
“Yes. I’m an adult.”
“No doubt about it.”
Their awareness of each other fairly sizzled. They felt the magnetic pull, the compelling need to do something, anything to release the tension.
Looking deep into her eyes, Kirk spoke. “I’ve made my decision, Joanna. This dangerous game you’re playing won’t change that.”
“I’ll take that chance.” She curved her hand around the back of his head and buried her fingers in his hair. “If you’re afraid of a little adult kissing, say so and I’ll leave. I can always find somebody else to teach me.”
His mouth was grim as he rose from the chair. Slinging her over his shoulder caveman style, he stalked to the door and snapped the lock shut. With his hands on her waist, he let her slide down his body until her feet touched the floor. His eyes pierced hers as he pressed her back against the door. She felt the solid strength of his chest, the powerful muscles in his arms, the rigid passion he could neither deny nor disguise.
“I’m selfish, Joanna. And possessive. If anybody is going to teach you what love is about, it’s going to be me.”
“I can hardly wait,” she said softly.
“Be forewarned, Joanna. This does not mean commitment.”
She gave him a Madonna smile. “Do you always do this much talking before you get to the good part?”
His mouth crushed savagely against hers. There was desperation in his kiss, and hunger and passion and the careful leashing of a man struggling for control.
When he finally lifted his head, his breathing was as ragged as her own. She knew she’d won a small first victory. But not the war.
“Is that all?” she asked softly. “If it is, I’ve come to the wrong place.”
His face was thunderous as his mouth came down on hers again. She felt the delicious intrusion of his tongue, the heady abrasion as he plundered the depths of her mouth.
Without breaking contact, he turned her around and walked her across the room to his swivel chair. Still keeping up that heady thrusting and probing with his tongue, he maneuvered them until he was in the chair and she was across his lap. They battled in the chair, each striving for control and supremacy. Her nerves were screaming as she fought to maintain the complete awareness that would give her the edge. Then suddenly her control shattered and a spasm of passion shook her. Kirk groaned deep in his throat as he, too, gave up the battle.
What was happening between them became as ancient as time and as simple as a smile.
Withdrawing his tongue, he whispered against her lips, “I love you, Joanna. I can never stop loving you.”
“Then don’t. Please don’t.”
She felt the tensing of his body, sensed his struggle.
“God help me, Joanna. I can’t let you go.”
“Take me, Kirk. Love me.”
Lifting his head, he gazed down at her. His eyes probed hers, searching, seeking answers. She scarcely dared breathe. For a small eternity she waited. Suddenly she saw the change in him, saw the light come into his eyes, felt him relaxing. And she knew, as surely as if it were written on the wall, that Kirk was experiencing his moment of epiphany.
“Always,” he whispered. “Always.”
He spoke just that one word, in a husky, love-filled voice, but it was enough. She knew it was a pledge.
He lowered his lips to hers in a kiss that was free of any restraints. Nothing was held back. All the love, the passion, the need, was there in the kiss.
Slowly his mouth left hers and burned a trail down her throat and across the open neck of her dress. His hand expertly opened her buttons and nudged aside the lace of her bra.
“You are a fever in my blood. I can’t resist you,” he murmured as he lowered his mouth to her breast. She felt the white-hot sensations rip through her as his tongue toyed with her erect nipple. “I have to taste you.”
He took the nipple deep in his mouth until she felt as if she were falling off the edge of the earth.
Instinctively she tangled her hands in his hair and pulled his head closer.
“I never knew love could be so wonderful. I feel as if I’m floating.”
“Joanna.. .Joanna.” In a fog of passion he lifted her so that she was astride him, her legs on either side of the chair. “Oh, God, baby. Float with me.”
His lips took hers once more, held them captive while his hips gently initiated her to the rhythms of love. The swivel chair rocked under them. She could feel the rigid power of him, the compelling heat of him. Business suit against silk, steel against satin.
Joanna was almost delirious with the pleasure of discovery. She caught Kirk’s rhythm, moved with it, flowed with it. The crazy rocking and squeaking of the swivel chair only heightened their excitement.
“Kirk!” His mouth muffled her plea. A savage, primitive need ripped her. She tore her mouth away from his. “Please, Kirk. I want... I need... do something.”
He cupped her face and planted soothing kisses around her jaw. “I’ve been a selfish beast, baby. I’ll help you.”
He shifted her so that she lay in his lap. His hand slipped under her skirt, explored the soft, silky skin of her thighs. He stroked her, gentled her, murmured soothing words to her. A ripple of incredible pleasure passed through her as his fingers slipped inside. She arched her head back and bit her lip to keep from crying out in ecstasy. With gentle persuasion he taught her the feelings of love. His fingers were magic, entering, withdrawing, entering, withdrawing, repeating the cycle until she felt a powerful clenching, a sudden release.
His mouth took hers once more. The kiss was tender, sweet. “Baby...”
Her eyes were bright, her face flushed. “I never knew love could be so wonderful.”
“That’s only an imitation. The real thing is a glorious ride to heaven and back.”
“I want to take that ride. With you.”
He smoothed back her hair, caressed her cheek. “How can I deny you, Joanna?” Lowering his head, he buried his face in her hair, inhaled the jasmine fragrance.
Silently he rocked her. She leaned against him, filled with contentment and a glorious sense of wonder.
“Kirk?”
“Yes, baby?”
“Don’t let me go. Keep me forever.”
His arms tightened around her. “Are you sure you know what you’re asking?” The rocking continued. “You’ve never known real freedom.”
“I don’t want freedom. I want you.”
He loosened his hold and rearranged her so that he could see her face. “It can’t be that way, Joanna. You’ve never known anything except my control. We’ve lived together, worked together. If I take you now, I’d never know whether you loved me by choice or simply because you’ve never been free to do anything else.”
“If there were a million men at my feet, begging to marry me, I’d still choose you.”
“Today, Joanna, I set you free.”
Her chin came up. “No. I don’t...”
“Hear me out. You’ll find enough money in your account to live in any style you choose for the next year. That includes buying yourself a car. I know how you hate mine.”
“How do you know?”
&nb
sp; “I heard you call the Lincoln a stodgy old-fogy car.”
“I didn’t mean for you to hear that.”
“But I did, Joanna. It only confirmed my feeling that I’m too old for you. Even now I have to wonder.”
Giving him a fierce look, she caught his lapels. “No, you’re not. And I won’t let you go. Do you hear that, Kirk Maitland?”
He smiled. “Loud and clear.” Then his expression became serious. “Joanna, I did a hell of a lot of thinking last night after I left you. I realized that I’m not as sure about matters of the heart as I am about business matters. It occurred to me that I’ve made many mistakes with you. When you first came up with the idea of finding a husband, I should have known it was merely a bid for freedom. If I had given you financial independence then, some of this heartbreak might have been avoided.”
She caressed his cheek. “You’re not God, Kirk. You can’t control everything.”
He gave her a rueful smile. “I’m beginning to see that, too. I have a confession to make, Joanna. Allowing myself the right to be human, to make mistakes, feels damned good.”
“I’m glad.” She pressed her cheek to his. “Does this mean you’re asking me to marry you?”
He chuckled. “Your methods of persuasion are very powerful. But I’m still old-fashioned enough to believe the man should do the proposing.”
She draped her arms over his shoulders and put her nose against his. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”
“Without prompting, Joanna.” He laughingly set her back. “I want you, Joanna. I want to marry you, to have a life with you, but I’m going to put some distance between us, give us time to see if what we have can survive.”
“That’s fair enough. All I want is a chance.”
He smiled. “You’ll get that, baby. I promise you. Somewhere between the door and the swivel chair I realized I had to give us a chance. I’m going to court you in a proper manner, as any other lovesick man would do.”
“Then prepare to be swept off your feet.”
