Wind Goddess

by Crystal Inman

  She knew that looks could be deceiving.

  “Did you need an appointment, Mr. Calhoun?” Sylvia made a show of picking up her black day planner and thumbing through the pages. “I may have one next week.” She looked back up at him and smiled coldly. “Or perhaps when hell freezes over?”

  “I don’t have time for hell to freeze over.” Tristan shrugged lightly and strode into the room. He walked to the side of her desk and stood there waiting.

  “You have a life, I presume? A business?” Sylvia stood also. “So why don’t you get back to it?” Her blue eyes iced over as she looked at him. “I have things to attend to. You’re not one of them.” She dismissed him and sat back down. Sylvia pulled the books back to her and wrote another figure in one of them.

  “You have a habit of ignoring me, Sylvia.” Tristan tsked her. “I don’t care for it.”

  “Deflate your ego and see yourself out, will you? Be a good boy.” She absently shooed him away from her.

  Sylvia had no warning. One minute the books were in front of her. The next, they were on the floor.

  “Son of a bitch!” She stood quickly and turned on her unwanted guest. “If you hope to have use of those hands much longer, you will get the hell out of my office.” Her voice shook with anger, and her blue eyes shot sparks at him. Sylvia bent down to pick up her books when he lifted her from behind and set her down on her desk.

  A second later, Tristan was sandwiched between her legs while her short black skirt rode high on her thighs. His strong hands grasped her hips, and he leaned forward.

  “Ignore me now, Sylvia.”

  The words were dark and filled with promise.

  Sylvia’s pulse raced at the undertones. She licked her lips and heard Tristan groan. And then his mouth lowered to hers. It was heat and passion that seared her from the mere touch of his lips against hers.

  Then his hands were in her hair, and his tongue thrust into her mouth with a promise of wicked things she had never let cross her mind. His tongue teased hers and sucked it into his mouth while he scooted her closer to the edge of the desk. And she responded in kind. A passion she had never felt surging up inside her that almost burned her alive.

  His right hand moved down to the opening of her starched white shirt. It lingered where skin met fabric and traced a small symbol on her bare flesh.

  She could feel the warmth of his body pressed to hers and smell the distinctive cologne that even now branded her senses as his and his alone.

  Sylvia shivered as the sensations flowed through her like molten lava. She burned up. She shivered. And if Tristan ever stopped kissing her, she would surely die.

  The alien thought enough for her to break contact and try to regain her bearings. Sylvia could hear her ragged breathing, and it embarrassed her. The lack of control. Putting herself in a position of weakness.

  She pushed her hands against Tristan’s solid chest. “Get out,” she demanded.

  “Why, Ms. Masters.” Tristan’s brown eyes gazed into her startled blue ones. “I don’t think you’re quite so oblivious, after all.” He leaned into her again.

  Sylvia slapped him. The echo of it rang loudly in the quiet room. Her voice shook, but she couldn’t seem to control it.

  “If you ever put your hands on me again, Mr. Calhoun, you won’t like the result.” Sylvia pushed her dark cap of hair back and tightened her mouth. “Get out of my personal space and go play with a model or actress.” She glanced down at her black skirt hitched up indecently high on her thighs.

  Tristan followed her gaze, and his hands tightened on her thighs. He looked up and pinned Sylvia with dark brown eyes.

  Before Tristan could open his mouth, she held up her hand. “I don’t want to be your flavor of the month, you conceited bastard. And if you continue to harass me, I will not be the wedding planner for your sister’s wedding. You simply aren’t worth it.”

  Tristan stepped back and raked his hands through his russet hair. “Well. That’s simple enough, isn’t it?” He smiled a small smile. “I suppose I’ll let you get back to work balancing your ledgers or whatever it is you do besides living.” He turned and walked back toward the door but stopped midway.

  Sylvia hopped down from her desk and pulled the skirt lower so it at least covered her thighs. Tristan turned slowly and looked at her from head to toe. “Some women are made to be loved, Sylvia. And some fight it tooth and nail. But you never know what you’re missing until you give it a taste.” He nodded curtly and shut the door behind him.

  Sylvia’s hands trembled as she ran them through her dark hair. Love? Is he kidding himself? Tristan would like her on her back. There were no emotions attached. Just a quick roll since he hadn’t had her yet.

  And he never would.

  Sylvia calmed herself with a great deal of effort. She opened another ledger and ran figures for two other weddings that were in the works. Numbers she understood. Tristan Calhoun remained a mystery.

  * * * *

  The food arrived promptly at noon the next day. The whole office congregated in the kitchen when the delivery van arrived. Sylvia scowled when Liz buzzed her and told her what was going on.

  Damn Tristan. Arrogant bastard.

  Sylvia walked down into the kitchen, and her bad mood blossomed. The fragrance of fresh chicken filled the kitchen. There were also a dozen handmade salads with a variety of dressings. Three different juices sat chilling in their buckets.

  The delivery man saw Sylvia and stepped forward. He gave her a card, tipped his hat, and left.

  Sylvia walked over to the kitchen by the window and opened the card while her staff helped themselves to the delicious food gathered on the table.

  A bit of food since you forget sometimes.

  It was signed T. Calhoun in large slashing letters.

  Sylvia tapped the card against her chin. She could be a total bitch and send the food back. But then she looked around the room and saw how much her staff enjoyed the treat.

  “Screw it,” she muttered. If Tristan wanted to waste his money ordering food for her staff, then she would certainly let him.

  Tempest walked in and noticed the table right away. “Mmm. What have we here?” She picked up a salad and inhaled the fragrance. “Nice.”

  “Isn’t it?” Sylvia said wryly.

  Tempest looked up and grinned at Sylvia. “I take it this is a gift?”

  “You could say that.” Sylvia dropped the card into the trash and smiled at her staff. “Enjoy. Apparently this is a gift from Mr. Calhoun for all our efforts on behalf of his sister’s wedding.”

  Liz grinned. “Sure he doesn’t have any other siblings?” She forked a bit of salad into her mouth and closed her eyes in bliss.

  “Negative on that.” Sylvia smiled. “And Mr. Calhoun has no need for nuptials.” She turned on her heel and walked back to her office.

  Sylvia’s stomach growled, and she cursed it. “Traitor,” she mumbled. She stepped into her office and slammed the door shut behind her. No food for her. Not a damn bite of it. Tristan could take his offerings and shove them up his…

  “Hey!” Tempest walked inside without knocking and stood there with two salads in her hand. “I think you forgot to take yours.”

  “I didn’t forget anything.” Sylvia’s blue eyes turned arctic. “Mr. Calhoun and I seem to be having a war of wills.”

  Tempest sat down in the chair opposite her and placed a salad on the desk. “You don’t say. And here I thought you two were getting along swimmingly.”

  “Smart ass.”

  Tempest placed a fork by the salad and opened up her own. She shrugged elegantly. “Sure. He’s overbearing and arrogant. Built like a bear with an attitude to match.” Her lips twitched. “But seriously. What’s not to like?”

  Sylvia picked up the fork and pulled the top of the container off her salad. “Everything. Absolutely damn everything.” She took a bite of the chef salad and groaned. “You know why he sent this, right?”

  “To say ‘th
anks’?”

  “Yeah. Right. Nothing so genial.” Sylvia’s eyes narrowed. “He sent this to make sure I ate. Can you believe that bullshit?”

  Tempest patted her chest to keep from choking since she had just put a bite of salad in her mouth. “My God. The monster.”

  “Once again. I repeat. Smart ass.”

  “So. This wedding comes with perks.” Tempest paused. “Is he still trying to roll you?”

  Sylvia snickered. “Yeah. In his dreams.” She took another bite of salad. “Do you know what happened when I had the stupidity to meet him for a meeting in his office?”

  “Do tell.” Tempest swept her hair back and leaned forward.

  “Some young girl had actually been hiding in the bathroom until everyone left so she could get him alone.” Sylvia shook her head. “Sad. Very sad. No one should have that power over someone else.”

  “Because you don’t let anybody.”

  “Damn straight.” Sylvia’s eyes blazed.

  Tempest poked around in her salad until she found the perfect bite. “So what happened to this hapless girl?”

  Sylvia bit her lip. Well, hell. She did happen to be the one who brought it up. “I might hire her.”

  Tempest’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”

  “Yes.” Sylvia took a sip of her cold coffee and grimaced. “She’s going for a degree in interior design.” She shrugged. “I told her to bring her portfolio by.”

  “Interesting,” Tempest murmured.

  There was a knock on the office door, and Sylvia shook her head. “Come in.”

  A young girl with a large brown cup walked in and looked around nervously. “Ms. Masters?”

  “Yes.”

  The girl smiled, obviously relieved. “Your secretary said you were in your office.” She walked forward and put the cup on the desk. “Enjoy.” Then she left before Sylvia could gather her senses.

  “Well. What in the blue hell?” Sylvia reached across and opened the lid. The aromatic fragrance of caffeine filled the air. She pushed the lid back down and scowled. “I hate him.”

  Tempest nodded. “I can see why. Between the food and the coffee, we could always form a mob and beat him down with stones.”

  “Don’t tempt me.” Sylvia tapped her fingernails on the desk and watched Tempest eat her salad. She picked up the coffee and took a sip. God, it tasted good. “I really do hate him.”

  Tempest smiled and stood. “Enjoy your coffee.” Then she took her salad and left the office.

  * * * *

  Sheer luck that Keira stopped by that afternoon. Sylvia had been ass deep in work and in a foul mood since the delivery incident. When the beautiful blond walked into her office, Sylvia looked up with a scowl.

  Her features smoothed when she realized it was the younger Calhoun.

  “Keira.” Sylvia stood and offered her hand. “I’m so glad to see you. How is Jon?”

  “Fine.” Keira smiled sunnily and sank into the chair opposite Sylvia. The young woman wore a maroon sundress shot through with gold threads. Matching shoes and gold jewelry at her throat and ears. She tapped her fingers on her knee. “What have we found out about wedding dresses?”

  “I have three boutiques I would like you to visit with your bridesmaids.” Sylvia found the list and slid it across the desk. “They specialize in unique weddings and can alter a dress into any design you like.”

  “You won’t be there?” Keira frowned as she took the paper.

  “Well. No.” Sylvia shook her head. “I have three other weddings I’m looking after right now. We’re a bit shorthanded.” A small stretch of the truth. They had three more weddings, but they were well in hand. The whole truth was that Sylvia didn’t want to take the risk of running into one Tristan Calhoun.

  Keira brushed her hair back and sighed. She folded the piece of paper without looking at it. “I really don’t know what I want. I had hoped you could come with me and steer me in the right direction.” She looked Sylvia in the eye. “None of my bridesmaids are married. They don’t have a clue about any of this.”

  Sylvia smiled sympathetically. “Wedding dresses are as unique as brides. When you find the right one, you’ll know it. You’ll feel it.”

  “Really?” Keira looked doubtful.

  “Really.”

  Keira bit her lip. “Are you that busy? Couldn’t you clear an hour or two to come with me?” She paused. “Please?”

  Shit. Sylvia warred with herself for a minute. “It’s only and your bridesmaids? No males in attendance?”

  Keira shook her head. “Jon is working. So is Tristan.” She chuckled. “And I really don’t think either would want to come with me anyway.”

  “What about Jon’s mother, Maude?”

  Keira threw back her head and laughed. “Maude is always at work. I swear that woman has ink in her veins. She wouldn’t be caught dead in a wedding boutique.”

  “I think I can clear my schedule this afternoon.” Sylvia thumbed through her appointment book and nodded. “Perhaps around two?”

  “Oh, Sylvia!” Keira jumped up and ran around to the other side of the desk. She hugged her tightly. “Thank you so much!” She straightened and walked to the door. “I knew I could count on you.” She checked her watch. “I’ll call the girls, and we’ll meet you at the first place on the list at two.” Keira blew kisses as she walked out the door.

  Sylvia massaged her temples. Apparently the Calhoun steamroller gene ran tightly in the genetic pool. How in the hell had she managed to have herself roped into going on the great wedding dress hunt?

  “Temporary insanity,” she muttered and called Liz to clear her schedule for the rest of the day.

  * * * *

  Kaello’s was the first boutique on the list. She only kept the best designers on her staff and went above and beyond to meet the expectations of her clients. The owner high on Sylvia’s list for the unique and extraordinary.

  Sylvia pulled her red Corvette into a parking place and stepped out. It was a beautiful day. A fact she would never have known if she hadn’t left the office. The breeze lifted slightly and brushed against her. It felt glorious. The sun caressed her bare arms while it warmed her face.

  For summer, it wasn’t so hot that her skin wanted to melt off. It almost felt as though fall were right around the corner. Sylvia stopped and looked up at the trees planted in the sidewalk.

  The bright foliage intrigued her. She reached up and touched an emerald leaf and traced the main vein from the stem to the tip.

  Growing up, she had every kind of tree and flower on her parents’ estate. But Sylvia had never been allowed to touch any of them. Not a one. She had been kept in her room doing her lessons during the summers she was allowed to come home. On the school campus, there had been no greenery whatsoever.

  She knew prisons had more grass than the boarding school she attended. There were never any plants in her personal office or her home. But right this minute, she wanted nothing more than to have a plant of her own. Perhaps a couple of trees in her bare yard. Blooms to watch through the year.

  Sylvia shook off the feeling and straightened her spine. Woolgathering. Not exactly an efficient way to spend her afternoon. The sooner she found Keira the perfect dress, she could be back at the office settling a million other details that always seemed to pop up.

  The bell rang over the door at Kaello’s as Sylvia stepped inside. Keira already there with her bridesmaids. But all the women simply sat on the sofa with books in their hands. As soon as she heard the bell, Keira jumped up.

  “There you are!” She grabbed Sylvia’s hand and tugged her closer. “We have no idea what we’re doing so we told the saleswoman we would wait for you.” Her gold eyes danced. “And here you are.”

  “Here I am.” Sylvia smiled and took her hand back. She walked up to the counter. “Could you please tell Kaello that Sylvia Masters is here? I would like to speak to her if she isn’t busy.”

  The woman nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” She hurried into the
back.

  A mere two minutes later, a statuesque blond strode forward, wrapped in a dark green sari that showed miles of arms and legs. Her shoes were died to match, and she boasted green gemstones along the tops of her feet and on her fingernails. Dark green eyes studied Sylvia.

  “Ms. Masters.” Sylvia caught a slight accent as the woman extended her hand. “An extreme pleasure to meet you.”

  Sylvia shook Kaello’s hand and and inclined her head. “An extreme honor for you to make time to greet us.”

  Kaello smiled. “You have sent a large amount of business my way. I am thankful.”

  “Call me Sylvia.” She smiled. “And your creations are exquisite.”

  “Ah, flattery.” Kaello smiled. She looked behind Sylvia to the small group of half a dozen women. “Yours?”

  “Kaello.” Sylvia tugged Keira forward. “Please meet Keira Calhoun. She is to be wed this Christmas. A Celtic themed affair.”

  Kaello put her hand beneath Keira’s chin and turned her face one way and then the other. “Such beautiful bone structure. And glorious coloring.” She dropped her hand. “Come back to my private rooms. We shall begin there.”

  Keira’s eyes were big as saucers as she looked at Sylvia. “Kaello? The Kaello?”

  “The one and only.” Sylvia tucked her arm through Keira’s as they followed the tall blond.

  “And she’ll make sure your dress will be the same.”

  The girls followed silently behind the duo. The usual chatty commentary had fallen silent when they met the owner of the boutique. Kaello was a legend in the fashion industry. A woman who came from nothing and now owned the largest fashion collection in the world. A woman who stayed on top of the richest people in the world list. A woman who defined strong and powerful.

  Sylvia settled the girls into the half a dozen chairs that were provided. A woman came and took their drink orders and brought sandwiches for them to snack on.

  Sylvia looked around. “Which one of you is Jill?”

  A girl with sable brown hair lifted her hand and said, “That would be me.”

  “Good.” Sylvia walked over to her. “Do not, for the love of God, tell Keira that something looks good if it doesn’t. She doesn’t need that. And paybacks are a bitch.” She looked up at the other girls. “You tell her what you think and be honest.”