Taking Over the Tycoon

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  “Believe me,” he said, his eyes filled with affection, his voice rough with the longing for more, “you’ve done quite enough.”

  And suddenly it was everything she could do to try and hold her soaring feelings in check. Then he was inside her. Filling her. Creating an urgent need only he could ease. Sensations ran riot, thrilling and enticing. Her body went soft and hot, and pleasure swept through her until she could barely breathe. She clasped him to her, surrendering herself, her heart, her soul. Needing him the way she had never needed any man, she arched upward to meet him, matching his movements, murmuring his name. They moved together, slowly at first, wonderingly, reverently, then more and more urgently. Passion and love, want and need, swirled together until their lovemaking was so strong and wonderful and right it didn’t feel quite real. But it was, and heart brimming with tenderness and love, Kristy finally relinquished control, gave herself over to him completely as he guided her into ecstasy.

  KRISTY WAS WRAPPED in Connor’s arms, her head on his chest, when the clock chimed midnight. She moaned softly. Just like in the fairy tale, the wonderful evening was coming to an end. And like it or not, just like Cinderella after the ball, she had to rush back to her real life. She sat up reluctantly. “We have to go.”

  For the first time all week, Connor looked like the dedicated single guy he was, answerable to and accountable for no one but himself. “We could call,” he suggested. “Let them know we’ll be a little late.”

  For what? Kristy thought, discouraged, as the full impact of what they had just done came back to haunt her.

  As wonderful as this moment had been, she realized sadly, that was all it was. A one-night stand, a fling. There’d been no talk of love, no thought to their futures. Nothing—besides the stunning nature of their passion—to indicate that this was anything but a momentary albeit very pleasurable diversion. And she was not the kind of woman who had flings. Which meant, like it or not, they had to be sensible. And that meant protecting her heart. And her feelings. And her reputation. “I really think I should get home,” she repeated, even more resolutely. She needed to get it together, think about her future, her girls.

  Abruptly, Connor looked as hurt as he was puzzled.

  Another sign of how different they were, Kristy thought with a beleaguered sigh. He was a wealthy and successful man who rarely denied himself anything. Whereas she—a hotelier struggling to build a business and mother of eight-year-old twin daughters—rarely had five minutes to call her own. Never mind much opportunity to do exactly what she wanted, whenever, however, she pleased. “Why?” Connor asked.

  Kristy sighed. “Look around you, Connor. Look how you live.” His city loft was the epitome of a bachelor’s lair. A place for seducing women. Not a place to entertain eight-year-old twin girls.

  For a few hours, Kristy had let herself get caught up in the glamour of the evening, and forget that she was a woman with too many responsibilities and way too little time. But now, like it or not, the reality of her life was crowding in, making her realize how impossible this relationship with Connor really was. If they were to continue on, he would expect a lot more nights like tonight. Kristy would not be able to give them to him. Not if it meant neglecting her business or her daughters, and currently she did not have time for all three.

  She didn’t want to put them in a difficult position.

  And yet, by acting so impulsively and giving in to her desire for him, she had.

  Connor followed her gaze as she looked around his loft. “So I live in a loft. So what?”

  “So Skip was right.” Kristy struggled to be practical. “You’re the consummate single, sophisticated man about town, and I’m a small-town, struggling businesswoman and mother of two. We were together tonight as a favor to Winnifred, but we exist in different universes, Connor.”

  He scowled. “Not for the past few days, we haven’t.”

  “Oh, Connor.” Kristy sighed, shook her head. “You don’t want my life.”

  “I’ll be the judge of what I want, Kristy,” he said gruffly, “and what I want is you.”

  Whereas what Kristy wanted was to protect herself from hurt by not allowing herself to get involved with anyone again. Connor understood that because he had done it for years. But it didn’t work. Avoiding emotional entanglements only made you lonelier and unhappier in the end.

  “But you’re right,” Connor soothed, cupping her chin and lifting her face to his. He ran his thumb across her lower lip. “We do have to get back, because as much as I’d like to stay up all night making love to you, I have to get you home so we both can get some sleep. Otherwise…” he let her go with a reassuring squeeze “…we’ll never have the energy to do everything we’ve got to do tomorrow to get ready for the conference.”

  Kristy stared at him, wide-eyed with amazement. “You’re not kidding!” she said. “You still plan to continue helping me.”

  Connor grinned. “Damn straight I do. Because—” he pressed a silencing kiss to her lips before she could interrupt “—I still want that date.” And, he added silently to himself, a heck of a lot more.

  But they wouldn’t talk about that now.

  They would wait until Kristy was ready.

  Until she had accepted the fact that what had happened tonight had been more than a whim, on both their parts. It had been the gateway to their future.

  Chapter Eleven

  The girls didn’t have school on Monday due to the Columbus Day holiday, so Kristy let them sleep late and play as much as they wanted under Eleanor Deveraux’s supervision while she and Connor worked like crazy putting the twenty-five rooms together, and Harry and Winnifred knocked themselves out in the kitchen. By noon, all the rooms were ready for the conference guests to check in.

  Daisy came over to take some digital photos of the newly renovated hotel interior and exterior. She brought her camera, computer and printer with her, and then set up in Kristy’s office, printing off brochures. Connor helped Kristy search the resort records for previously loyal autumn customers and conference groups who might be persuaded to return, while Daisy’s husband, an attorney, went over the fine print of an agreement Kristy was considering signing with an Internet-based travel agency.

  “I think this contract is doable,” Jack said cautiously, “but there are a few clauses I’d like to see changed in your favor before you sign anything, Kristy. How about I call their legal department for you tomorrow, and see what can be worked out?”

  “I would really appreciate it.” She smiled, confident that Jack would be able to negotiate a deal in her favor. He had been an attorney for Deveraux-Heyward Shipping Company. When Kristy had first met Jack the previous summer, he had still been doing that. Now he was married to Daisy and had hung up his own shingle. As had Daisy. His law office and her photo studio were in the same little shopping center. And the newlyweds looked blissfully content to be masters of their own destiny.

  “No problem. Besides—” Jack winked at Kristy “—I can use the business.”

  “As can I,” Daisy added as she sent her brother a teasing look. “Since my business is just getting off the ground, too.”

  “We all know you both are going to be very successful in your own right,” Connor retorted. “You just have to give it time.”

  Which was what she needed, too, Kristy thought, happy that everything was falling into place so efficiently now. Just a little more time to get the place up and running.

  As for her and Connor, well, time seemed to be working miracles there, too. Initially, she had felt awkward around him, after their passionate lovemaking Saturday night. But he hadn’t pressured her, and his steady presence had been a balm to her nerves. She was beginning to see he wasn’t just interested in her physically, or trying to win a bet. He wanted to get to know her and understand her and be her friend. Be more than a friend. And as time went on, and he remained helpful and kind and generous, Kristy felt her guard coming down, little by little. To the point that she could see the
m finding some common ground, some way to be with each other, either as lovers or friends or both, without worrying too much about either the ramifications of their actions or their futures.

  After all, just because she had never been able to indulge in a no-strings-attached love affair didn’t mean she had to either cut Connor out of her life or make demands on him that he might not ever be able to meet. She had a right to an intimate relationship, apart from her roles as mother and businesswoman. She had a right to a private life, apart from the family responsibilities she held so dear. And if Connor was willing to accept that, to conduct a relationship on her terms—in a way that totally shielded her daughters from hurt—there was no reason to deny either of them the pleasure and comfort of each other’s company. At least not any that Kristy could see.

  She looked up fondly as her twins came into the room. As usual, Sally was wearing a dress and carrying her dad’s old beach towel. But her braid was a mess, she had smudges of what appeared to be vanilla frosting on her cheek, and tennis shoes—instead of T-strap dress shoes—on her feet. Susie, on the other hand, sported her usual shorts and T-shirt. But her hair was nicely combed and had a pretty ribbon running through it.

  “What are you-all doing?” Sally asked.

  Kristy smiled at her girls, aware of how much they had begun to relax and settle into their new environment in the past few days. “We’re sending out more brochures to show how things have changed around here, so maybe people who used to stay here will want to come back again.” She slid the photos across her desk so the twins could examine them, too.

  To her delight, they looked as impressed as Kristy felt about what had been accomplished. “I wish we could write to Daddy and tell him how much this place has changed since we moved here,” Susie lamented softly.

  “And show him the pictures, too,” Sally added, as she tapped a finger against one of the brochures.

  Kristy wished they could talk to Lance. Maybe if they could have done so before he died, or at least known Lance had developed a heart problem that needed surgery and was facing hospitalization, they would have been a little more prepared. His death wouldn’t have hit them so hard, and they would have had the closure they needed.

  As it was, they were still having difficulty moving on, and Kristy wasn’t sure how to help them. Except to do as their pediatrician and their school counselor had advised, and let the girls deal with the tragedy in their own way, in their own time.

  “Can I have a brochure to show the kids at school?” Susie asked, already moving back to the original subject.

  “Sure. You can each have one,” Kristy said.

  The twins smiled as Daisy handed them folded brochures of their very own.

  Harry appeared in the doorway. “Dinner’s on. Jack, you and Daisy stay, too, why don’t you?”

  Jack and Daisy exchanged looks and then nodded. “Thanks,” Jack said. “We will.”

  “Splendid!” Harry looked at Kristy, “Your mother and brother telephoned. They won’t be here until later. They’ve decided to wait out the traffic before they hit the road. Apparently, a lot of vacationers are cutting their losses and getting out of Hilton Head before the storm hits, or any forced evacuations are ordered.”

  Kristy knew that, as of that morning, Imogene had made a northward turn and was heading for the United States coastline. “What’s the latest on the storm track?” she asked casually, doing her best to hide her anxiousness.

  Harry smiled encouragingly. “As of half an hour ago, it was stalled off the coast of Florida.”

  “Well, that’s good.” Kristy was hoping Imogene would take another abrupt turn, as storms like it were wont to do, and head east and die out over the ocean.

  Connor escorted Kristy to dinner.

  Winnifred and Harry had surprised the group by putting dining tables out on the piazza that faced the ocean. Gingham cloths were fastened over the tabletops. Harry had set up one of the grills, and Winnifred was overseeing the grilling of hamburgers and hot dogs for the group. Bowls of potato salad, fresh fruit, baked beans and coleslaw garnished the table, along with big pitchers of lemonade and iced tea. As they sat down to eat, Susie pulled out her brochure to show Harry, Winnifred and Eleanor, who all oohed and ahhed over it.

  “Susie and I wanted to send one to Daddy, too,” Sally explained. “But mail can’t be delivered in heaven, can it?”

  The adults exchanged looks. No one knew quite what to say to that, including Kristy. “No honey, there’s no U.S. Mail Service in heaven,” she said gently.

  “Well, then, how come you can send a letter to Santa Claus at the North Pole?” Sally asked, her lower lip shooting out petulantly.

  “Well, the North Pole is here on earth,” Kristy said. “Heaven isn’t.”

  The girls looked crestfallen as they exchanged troubled glances. “Why is it so important you write a letter to your daddy now?” Kristy asked gently, aware that, beside her, Connor was looking just as concerned and empathetic as she felt.

  “Well…” Susie looked at her twin. They elbowed each other back and forth, and finally Susie said, “Because we want a new daddy. And we want to ask him if it’s all right.”

  THE PORCH WAS SO SILENT you could have heard a pin drop, Connor noted. Worse, Kristy looked as stunned and at a loss as to how to respond to that as the rest of them. Not that he could blame the twins for wanting a father. Theirs was the dream of every kid—to have two loving parents taking care of and bestowing love and attention on them.

  “What made you realize this?” Kristy asked finally in a low, trembling voice.

  Easy, Connor thought, as he reached beneath the table to take her hand in his and give it a reassuring squeeze. They were seeing their mom finally begin to shed her widow’s weeds and move on, and they wanted to be able to get on with their lives, too. But because they were kids, and unsure of themselves, they needed permission to do so.

  “Well,” Sally explained practically, her eyes focused on Kristy’s face, “there are some kids at school who have lost their parents, too. Our counselor let us have a group meeting with them, and they told us how hard it was for them, but then it gets better. And one of ’em, he got a new daddy when his mommy got married again. So Susie and I were talking and we decided that we think it’s a good idea for you to get married again so we will have a daddy living with us. And we even know who we want,” they said, looking straight at Connor.

  He paused, feeling both stunned that Susie and Sally were bringing up something he had privately been thinking about, and touched that they had identified him as the daddy they yearned for.

  Beside him, Kristy blushed to the roots of her hair as she struggled to regain her composure. “Girls, I understand how much you miss having a father in your lives,” she replied gently, steadfastly avoiding Connor’s eyes, “but it really doesn’t work like that. You can’t just pick someone out and say, ‘I want you.”’

  You have to fall in love with him first. The way I’ve fallen in love with you, Connor thought, as he turned and gave Kristy a look that spoke volumes about the way he felt.

  To his disappointment, she ignored the feelings he was trying to convey to her, and looked helplessly over at the assembled adults. Her message was clear. She was asking them to help her out with this very delicate situation. Not him, as Connor would have preferred. Them.

  “Then can Daddy pick someone out for us?” Susie persisted eagerly.

  Just when you thought the questions couldn’t get any more complicated, Connor mused.

  “Well, we can’t ask Daddy because Daddy is in heaven and we’re here on earth,” Kristy said, beginning to look a little exasperated as embarrassed color continued to stain her cheeks.

  Sally frowned unhappily. “Can’t we ask Daddy to come down from heaven and talk to us here on earth?”

  “Yeah. There’s such things as ghosts. And Daddy is a ghost now, right?” Susie said.

  Again, all the adults, Connor included, were at a loss.

&nbs
p; “And you can call up ghosts if you use a Ouija board.” Sally hurried on persuasively, lifting her brows to emphasize her point. “’Cause one of my friends has one. And they said their Ouija board really works. So maybe we could ask Daddy that way.”

  Connor glanced over. Kristy looked as if she was either going to burst into tears or storm away from the table, he wasn’t sure which. He did know she needed help. And that her girls needed some sort of closure to their father’s passing, no matter how they got it. “Actually,” he said gently, taking charge even though he knew Kristy didn’t particularly want him to do so, “I have a better idea how you can talk to your daddy and tell him everything you want to know.”

  Kristy turned to him, a stunned look on her face.

  “You can write him a letter and tell him everything that’s in your heart, and then we’ll tie it to a balloon, and send it up to him that way,” Connor said. Several years before, he’d heard on the news about other kids who’d lost parents doing something similar. When interviewed, their parents had said that it had helped.

  The girls glowed with a mixture of excitement and worry. “But what if the balloon accidentally goes somewhere else?” Susie questioned anxiously. “Like the ones we sent out at school in first grade. Some of them went to Florida and Colorado and New York. They ended up everywhere.”

  “But this would be addressed to Daddy in heaven, so I’m pretty sure it would find its way to him,” Kristy said quietly. She shot Connor a grateful look, then continued seriously, “And you’re right, girls. I think Daddy does need to hear from you. And Connor’s idea is the best one to date, so…”