The Sweetest Thing

by Barbara Freethy

  "So you do know the difference. I was beginning to wonder."

  Chapter Eleven

  Faith found four Suzannah Brocks on the Internet, one living in San Diego, another in New Jersey, one in Dallas, and the last in New Orleans. It was something, but not enough. Faith flexed her fingers, trying to think of what to do next. She had no idea if Suzannah Brock had married, but it seemed likely since fifty years had passed. She probably wasn't listed under Brock at all. Still, it was something. Faith printed out the page and considered the possibilities.

  A search through the Web finally took her to a site that checked vital statistics, births, deaths, and marriages in various counties throughout the country. For the first time, Faith felt a thrill of excitement. She typed in "Suzannah Brock" and the birth date Julian had given her. Next, she filled in "Los Angeles County" and waited for the computer to process the information. While the computer whirred, she stood up and stretched, then decided to explore a bit. She couldn't help but be curious about Alex. The photos on the far wall immediately drew her attention, and she walked over to take a closer look.

  Alex appeared in almost every photo with athletes from a variety of sports. He certainly seemed to get around, from football stadiums to outdoor tracks, to soccer fields and basketball arenas. Everywhere she looked, there was Alex and his shoes. She smiled to herself, wondering how he'd ever decided to go into the athletic shoe business.

  The rest of the office looked as neat as his apartment. With the exception of a stack of shoeboxes in one corner, there was little clutter. There were no overflowing files on his desk, no cute knickknacks, just a no-nonsense phone, a blotter, and a green potted plant. She had a feeling that little touch had come from someone else.

  Across from the desk were two chairs. Against the far wall was a comfortable leather couch, much like the one in Alex's living room, and a glass coffee table. There were windows along one side of the office, but they offered nothing more than a view of the warehouse district.

  Judging by the size of the warehouse next door with the Top Flight logo and the number of offices in this building, Alex's company was very successful, and he was the man at the top.

  She had a feeling that being in control was very important to Alex. That was why he couldn't believe in a curse. He wouldn't be able to control a stormy wind, a haunting spell. She smiled at the thought of him trying to wrestle the wind. She could almost see him, with his dark hair blowing, his blue eyes sparkling with energy and passion.

  He was truly a warrior. She wished she could share the dream with him, make him see it as she did. Maybe then he would understand why she was captivated by the tale. It was no longer as important for her to find Suzannah for Julian, but to find the other half of the pot. She didn't think the dreams would go away until she did.

  "Find anything?" Alex asked, as he opened the door to his office and stepped inside.

  Startled, she turned abruptly, catching her foot on the carpet. She stumbled, and Alex moved swiftly to catch her. His strong hands on her waist kept her from falling, but they didn't keep her from feeling. His touch brought immediate awareness, something he must have felt, because whatever he was going to say stilled on his lips. He simply stared at her. She knew what was coming. They'd been moving toward this moment from the first day they'd met.

  Alex pulled her toward him.

  "Not a good idea," she muttered.

  "You are awake this time?"

  "Alex, don't."

  "One kiss, then we'll both know."

  She wanted to ask him what they'd both know, but she didn't get a chance. His mouth covered hers in a demanding manner that was far too intimate for a first kiss, far too warm and deep and inviting.

  It was a kiss that touched her soul, fed her hunger, quenched her thirst. It was a kiss that made her want another and another and another. Alex obliged, his mouth moving over hers again and again and again.

  She molded her body into his, feeling the hard angles of his hips and pelvis, the broad expanse of his chest, every long, hard inch of him. And it wasn't enough. She wanted more, much more.

  "Damn." Alex's eyes glittered, his breath coming rough and ragged. "You're good."

  "I -- I am?"

  "I wasn't expecting so much -- passion. I guess the red hair should have clued me in." He touched her hair with a tender hand. "You have great hair, a great smile." His gaze traveled across her face. "Soft, soft lips and beautiful, beautiful breasts."

  Her breasts tingled at his words, at his look. She wanted his hands there, and his mouth. Lord, what was she thinking? She couldn't do that with him. He was a stranger. She didn't even know him.

  "I should finish up," she said hastily.

  "You can finish me up. Right here. Right now. We're all alone."

  She flushed, not as quick with the sexual repartee as he was. "I don't think so. That would be a mistake."

  "Probably. But I could live with it."

  Faith moved away from his amused grin. She needed space, a chance to think without him touching her. "I'll just get back to work."

  "That easily?"

  "I didn't say it would be easy. But it's the right thing to do. You said yourself I'm not your type. And you're not mine." The words came out in a rush before her conscience could call her a liar.

  "I also said that kissing you would tell us what we both needed to know."

  "Which is what?"

  "We need each other in a very basic way."

  Faith swallowed hard at the word "basic," feeling a sense of lust for him that did in fact feel as essential as breathing. She didn't, however, intend to act on that feeling, because the power of it frightened her. She'd loved Gary. She'd made love to Gary a dozen times or more. But she'd never felt so addicted to a kiss, so desirous of another.

  The traitorous thought kicked her in the gut. How could she have forgotten Gary? A man she had intended to love for all time? It had only been two years.

  She shook her head, still feeling an enormous sense of guilt. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

  "For what?"

  She'd been talking to Gary, to his memory, not to Alex, but Alex didn't know that. "I was supposed to marry someone else."

  "Like in the dream. This guy Ben."

  Ben? Oh, Lord, she'd forgotten about Ben, too. She was a terrible, terrible person.

  "As far as I'm concerned, if you're not married, you're still free to kiss someone else, especially if you're still only 'almost' engaged," Alex said.

  "You don't understand." She walked over to the chair behind his desk and sat down.

  "Then tell me."

  Alex perched on one corner of the desk, his gaze still fixed on her face. He was certainly one of the most attentive men she'd known.

  "I wasn't talking about Ben, but Gary."

  He raised an eyebrow. "Gary? How many men do you have waiting in line to marry you?"

  Faith sighed, knowing she would have to explain, at least part of it. "Two years ago, I was engaged to be married to Gary Porter. We were really, really happy." She took a deep breath, preparing for the pain that she knew would accompany the rest of her explanation. "Three weeks before the wedding, Gary was killed in an automobile accident. A drunk driver ran a red light. Gary died instantly. He was on his way to see me."

  "I'm sorry. That must have been very rough."

  "Things happen." She stood up, feeling restless. She didn't like the tenderness on Alex's face, the compassion in his eyes. It made it more difficult to be strong, to stand straight and tall and alone -- when what she really wanted was a hug.

  Alex came up behind her and slid his arms around her waist, drawing her back against his chest. He nuzzled her neck with his lips. "It's okay to remember."

  She turned in his arms and buried her face in the curve of his neck. She hadn't been held in a very long time.

  Alex didn't move. Nor did he speak. He just let one hand drift through her hair, while the other held her tight against his body, as if he could give her so
me of his strength. She never would have guessed he had such a core of patience in him. He always seemed to be in a hurry. He drove a fast car, led a fast lifestyle, but for now he seemed content to let the seconds pass without a word or a glance at the clock on the wall.

  "Thanks," she said finally, offering him a weak smile. She stepped out of his embrace. "I seem to be thanking you a lot today."

  "So who's Ben?"

  "Ben is Gary's brother."

  Alex looked surprised. "His brother?"

  "It's not like that. It only happened recently. We've been friends since Gary died, but it was just lately that we started thinking about being something more."

  "That explains the unofficial engagement. What are you waiting for, Faith? Are you still in love with Gary? Because I've got to say, you didn't kiss me like you were in love with someone else."

  "I forgot for a second. Is that a crime?"

  "No."

  "It feels like one. I really want to be married. That's why Ben's proposal is so appealing."

  Alex nodded as if that came as no great surprise. "You were made for marriage, for kids."

  "I want children, more than anything. And Ben wants kids, too."

  "But you don't love him."

  His accusation drew a silence between them. "I care about him."

  "That's it? You care? I was feeling sorry for you, but now I'm beginning to feel sorry for Ben."

  "You don't have to feel sorry for either one of us. My life is not your business." She took a deep breath. "Don't kiss me again."

  He seemed to view her words as a challenge. "Why shouldn't I? You liked it."

  "Too much. I just told you I want to be married. That should scare you off."

  "It should, if I had any sense. I'll agree to one thing, though. Next time we kiss, it will be your call."

  "I will never make that call."

  "Never say never. That's my motto. By the way, I usually get what I want."

  "You don't want me, remember?"

  "I'm trying to, Faith. I'm trying very hard to remember that fact."

  * * *

  An hour later Faith picked up the phone to call Julian. Thankfully, Alex had his home number on autodial.

  "Mr. Carrigan. It's Faith. I found something, actually two things."

  "Oh, dear God in heaven. I can't believe it. Tell me, please."

  "Well, first of all, Suzannah's aunt Bernice died about three weeks after Suzannah returned from your trip to Arizona."

  There was silence on the other end of the phone. Finally, Julian spoke. "That would explain why the house was sold a few months later. So Suzannah was left all alone in the world. I don't understand why she didn't come looking for me."

  "You said she was religious. Perhaps she couldn't get over the fact that you'd stolen something holy and that together you'd broken it."

  "That must be it. Otherwise, I'd have to consider that she never really loved me, that it was all a lie."

  "Let's not think that yet. Actually, I believe there's another reason why she didn't contact you. Are you sitting down?"

  "She's not dead. Please, tell me she's not dead."

  "She got married, Mr. Carrigan, just a few months after her aunt's death."

  "No. I can't believe that. So soon?"

  "She was all alone in the world," Faith reminded him.

  "But -- go on. Who did she marry?"

  "Someone named Harry Conrad. At the time of the marriage he apparently lived in Pasadena, California. That's where they got married."

  "Harry Conrad." Julian repeated the name as if it were a clue to a puzzle. "I think that was the man Suzannah was supposed to marry. In her letter she said her aunt wanted her to marry a young man from their church who was studying to be a minister, but she couldn't imagine living with such a stern man. Why would she have said yes? She wanted to go to college. She wanted to dance."

  "Women had fewer options in those days, Mr. Carrigan. Maybe she didn't have money for college. With her aunt gone, she might have felt she had no other choice but to marry."

  "She was so filled with light and joy, my Suzannah. I can't bear the thought that she lived with someone cold and unforgiving. Unless..."

  "Unless what?"

  "She was doing penance for both of us, for the sin I committed."

  "You don't know that. Maybe Harry Conrad wasn't a bad guy. We don't have enough information."

  "What do we do now?"

  "Look for Suzannah and Harry Conrad. We may get lucky. I'll call you back."

  As Faith hung up the phone, Alex walked into the office. She offered him a brilliant smile.

  "You found something," he said.

  "I did. Suzannah Brock married one Harry Conrad." She handed him the paper she'd printed out.

  "It could be the same person," he conceded.

  "It has to be, Alex."

  "Even if this is her, it doesn't mean she's still alive or that she lives anywhere near Pasadena. Good grief, she married this guy just a few months after her trip to Arizona."

  "That's right. But even though it was a long time ago, I still think we have a chance of finding her. Don't be such a pessimist. This is a real lead. I can't quite believe it. Aren't computers wonderful?"

  "I'll say one thing for you, Faith. You choose to see the best in things." He tipped his head toward the window. "Did you happen to notice it's getting dark outside? You've been at this for hours. It's almost six o'clock."

  "I didn't realize. You should have made me stop earlier."

  "I got some work done. I came by a while ago, but you were so involved, I decided not to disturb you. Now I'm hungry."

  "Me, too."

  "Come on, we'll pick up a pizza on the way home, and you and Grandfather can plan out your next step."

  "I almost hate to quit now."

  "It's been fifty years, Faith. Another day won't matter."

  "That's true."

  He waited while she turned off the computer and gathered her notes. Then they walked out of the office together.

  "You've built yourself quite a company, haven't you?" Faith commented as they reached the lobby area.

  "I've tried. We're not at the top yet. We still have a way to go." Alex hated the sense of failure that followed his words.

  Faith looked surprised at his reaction. "You don't feel like a success, even with all this?" She waved her hand toward the array of offices that tomorrow morning would be filled with his employees, dedicated to designing, manufacturing, and selling his shoes.

  "It doesn't feel like enough." He pushed the button for the elevator. "I'm not the best yet."

  "How will you know when you're the best? When every person on the earth is wearing your shoes?"

  "Maybe."

  Faith put a hand on his arm. She was an affectionate person, someone who used her touch as much as her words to communicate, and she didn't even realize it. Her gaze was focused on his face, and her eyes seemed determined to convince him of something.

  "Don't you think you've set your expectations a bit high?"

  Hell, his expectations had always been too high, especially where people were concerned. But he wouldn't tell her that. He tapped the elevator button again. "Where is the damn elevator?"

  Faith laughed.

  "What's so funny?"

  "You're always in a hurry."

  "I have places to go."

  "Maybe if you'd slow down, you'd enjoy where you are right now."

  His muscles tightened as her words once again created an atmosphere of intimacy between them. "Is that an invitation?"

  "No. It was a general statement about life."

  "Too bad." He liked the way she reacted to him, how sensitive she was to his moods, how passionately she responded to his touch. But he'd promised her he wouldn't kiss her again. Damn.

  The elevator doors opened, and they stepped inside, remaining quiet for the short trip down to the first floor.

  "This is all pretty impressive, you know," Faith said, as they
continued out to the parking lot. "You're not that old."

  "Sometimes I feel really old."

  Alex unlocked the car door and opened it for her. She hesitated before getting in. "What about Jessie, Alex? Are you going to keep her?"

  Jessie? He'd been wondering that same thing most of the day. And he'd felt guilty for leaving her alone all day with his grandfather. He'd done it partly for his own self-preservation. The less time he spent with her, the less chance he had of coming to care about her.

  "I don't know," he said finally. "I'm hoping we can find her father. I hired a private investigator, although I probably could have just let you loose on the Internet."

  "One missing person is enough for me."

  "Hopefully this detective will come up with her father fast. I still haven't figured out if she's supposed to be in school tomorrow. I don't suppose you know."

  "Sorry. I'm not up on school schedules."

  "Neither am I. In fact, I'm not up on twelve-year-old girls at all, especially ones who talk like truck drivers. Actually, I've never been able to figure out women, no matter what age they are."

  "We're not all that difficult to understand. We're just people."

  "Yeah, right."

  "Well, whether or not you understand women is beside the point. We're talking about a young girl with her whole life ahead of her. Maybe you should think about keeping Jessie. She needs a home, and she needs a family."

  "You're right. Jessie does need a home and a family. But all I have to offer is a roof over her head."

  "That's not true. You have a lot more to give." She paused, looking into his eyes with absolute and honest sincerity. "You know, Alex, with your grandfather and Jessie, you have the makings of an incredible family -- if you want it."

  A family? Hadn't he longed for a family most of his life, only to be disappointed over and over again? "I don't think so. I have a tendency to drive people away. No one stays for long."

  "I'd stay somewhere forever if I found the right man."

  He smiled, wishing for a foolish instant that he were that right man. "I believe you would, Faith. I believe you would." He watched while she slid into the passenger seat. "So is this Ben the right man? The one you care about but don't love?"