“You wish,” Sylvia muttered.
Tempest laughed softly. Then she leaned across the desk and took Sylvia’s hand in hers. “I have something for you, but I don’t believe you’re ready for it. I’m here, Sylvia. To listen to you. To hear you. And sometimes that, alone, helps.”
“You ever made a mistake?”
Tempest arched her eyebrow. “Several. And I’m sure my sisters could list them in alphabetical order. No one is infallible. We all make mistakes.”
“I made a large one.” Sylvia took a deep breath. “I put myself in a situation utterly over my head and out of my control. And as I made my decisions, I thought they were valid. I thought I was doing the right thing. But apparently, I also screwed that up.”
“Hmmm.” Tempest took another bite of her cookie. “I understand why you want to blame yourself. But most situations are caused by two people. So you may want to find the other person and work this out.”
“No.”
“Well.” Tempest smiled gently. “That was rather quick.”
“I appreciate this.” Sylvia sat back in her chair and studied her employee. “You don’t know how much. But the simple fact of the matter is that this was a personal error in judgment. I screwed up.”
“And you’re very hard on yourself. I understand that.”
“Do you?” Sylvia sighed. “This isn’t something I care to go over. I appreciate your generous offer. But I’ll simply have to work this out myself. And quite honestly, I think it’s worked itself out at this point in time.”
Tempest stood and nodded. “If you change your mind, Sylvia, I’ll be more than happy to listen to you. To try and help if I possibly can.” She walked out the office door and shut it quietly behind her.
Sylvia rubbed her temples. So much for thinking she had fooled anybody. Damn Tristan. Damn him for getting under her skin and making her care. Damn him for touching her heart and then walking away. Damn him.
She grabbed another cookie and slid the sandwich into the trash. A little more sugar. A little more caffeine. And maybe, just maybe, she could make it through another day. Sylvia pulled a ledger over to her and began writing.
* * * *
It was late. Sylvia rubbed her eyes and glanced over at the clock. She must have fallen asleep at her desk. Dark outside, only a single lamp lit her office. After eleven o’clock.
“Great,” Sylvia muttered and yawned hugely.
“Do you ever take care of yourself?”
Sylvia yipped and stood suddenly. Her eyes searched the dimness of her office until she found him.
Tristan leaned casually against the wall on the other side of her door. His hair rumpled, as was his suit. He stepped into the light, and Sylvia gasped.
He looked tired. As tired as she felt.
Sylvia put her hands on her hips. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see if you’ve decided to take Ben up on his offer.”
Sylvia frowned. “What?”
“Are you going to take the McKee heir up on his offer?” Tristan strolled forward and slapped his hands on the desk.
Sylvia’s hands shook, and she hurriedly stuffed them in her pockets. “You’ve lost your mind. You know that, right?”
“Yes,” Tristan bit out. “Now answer me, damn it.”
Sylvia lifted her chin. “I don’t owe you anything, Mr. Calhoun. Not an explanation. Not an answer. Not a damn thing.” She yawned hugely and ruined the effect.
“Because you’re so magnificent at taking care of yourself. Is that it?” Tristan’s eyes blazed with fire. “You would actually considering going out with Ben McKee? To take him up on his offer of ‘coffee’?”
“Damn you!” Sylvia shouted. “Why are you here? Didn’t you say everything you had to say the last time we were together?”
Tristan raked his hands through his hair and glared at her. “How can you absolutely drive me crazy?”
“It’s a gift,” she bit out.
“I want you,” he admitted.
The sound of Sylvia’s hand across his cheek was brilliantly loud in the room. Tristan growled and grabbed her hand. Then he simply lifted her across the desk and against him. His mouth crushed hers, and Sylvia fought for air. A scrap of sanity. Anything that would calm her racing heart and ease her aching body.
“Sylvia,” he breathed against her ear. “Be with me.”
“For tonight?” Her heart ached as she studied the dark shadows of Tristan’s face. “You want me for tonight?”
Yes.” He sighed.
Sylvia bit back the pain. It would be the last time. She knew that. And why shouldn’t she grab onto Tristan with both hands tonight? The last night.
Sylvia unbuttoned her shirt slowly, but Tristan’s hands stopped her. He gently kissed her mouth and undid the buttons himself. He stopped at her waist and pulled her shirt out of her waistband.
She reached up and pushed Tristan’s jacket to the ground. Then Sylvia ripped his shirt open and smiled up at him.
He growled and moved forward. Tristan grabbed her hair and pulled her mouth to his. Sylvia clutched his hair and nipped at his bottom lip.
“Sylvia.” Tristan’s hair whistled in and out of his lungs. “I’m trying to take it slow here.”
“Why?” Sylvia’s blue eyes darkened as she pulled her eggshell chemise up and over her head. She stood there proudly. “Why take it slow, Tristan?” She pressed her body next to his. “I thought you said you wanted to be with me.” Sylvia moved her hand down his body and cupped him through his slacks. “Parts of you certainly want to be.” Her arms wound around his neck. “I’ve always wanted to have you in my office. On my desk.” She continued to stroke him, and he shuddered against her.
Tristan lifted her suddenly and put her on the edge of the desk. Sylvia slid her panties off and pulled her skirt up. Tristan growled and unzipped his pants and slid them to his ankles. His boxers came next.
And then, dear God, he thrust inside her.
Sylvia wanted to sob aloud with the pure pleasure of it. Tristan thrust into her again and again while he took her mouth with his. His hands clenched her ass while he drove her up and over the edge of sanity.
The rhythm sped up, and tears leaked from Sylvia’s eyes. This was what she had to offer Tristan and him to her. Sex. Great sex. Maddening pleasure with no assurance of what tomorrow would bring.
Her orgasm burst through her, and she quivered uncontrollably. Tristan growled and bucked against her until he came, also.
They both breathed heavily against each other.
Sylvia moved her head to the side and wiped the tears from her eyes. Tristan didn’t need to know anything but what she let him see. A woman who wanted in his pants like any other. Just another faceless female.
She pressed her hands to her chest and slid off her desk. Tristan leaned down to pull up his pants and finally looked at her. Sylvia made a show of slowly finding her clothes and fixing them.
“I wanted to take my time with you, Sylvia. To enjoy you.” Tristan raked his hands through his hair. “Why didn’t you let me?”
Sylvia shrugged carelessly and brushed her hair out of her face. “I’m tired. I need to go home. I have a lot of work to do. Most of it for your sister’s wedding.”
Tristan jerked back as if she had hit him. His jaw clenched. “And if there are repercussions?”
Sylvia frowned. “What?”
“Children, Sylvia. What if you’re pregnant?”
Sylvia smiled tightly. “I’m on the pill to regulate my period. And besides, I think we’re safe because of timing.” She glanced at Tristan. “You do get tested regularly, don’t you?”
“Sure.” Tristan smile appeared bitter. “No need to worry about diseases, Sylvia. I’m clean.” He shrugged his jacket on. “Little late to think to ask that though, isn’t it?”
A knife twisted in Sylvia’s heart, but she kept her voice calm. “I’m a fast learner. Better luck next time, right?”
Tristan gave her a long
measured look and opened his mouth to speak, but Sylvia held up her hand. “Don’t. Just don’t. Let’s chalk it up to hormones and be done with it.”
“Be done with it?” Tristan nodded slowly. “I suppose it’s best. Why would we get involved? You’re too busy hiding your heart, and I’m too busy screwing the flavor the month.” He narrowed his eyes. “Hell of a combination.”
Sylvia slid her shoes on. “Leave, Tristan. And don’t come back. If you have any questions, you can fax them to me. I’ll make sure Keira and Jon have the wedding of their dreams. You and I need never see each other again. Besides,” she made herself smile, “it’s not like you’ll ever walk down the aisle, now, is it?”
“Why would I?” Tristan looked at her. “I can have anything I want without that little piece of paper.” He turned toward the door and then back one more time. “It’s been a pleasure, Sylvia.” His wolf eyes darkened. “A real pleasure.” He walked out the door and out of her life.
Sylvia collapsed in her chair and buried her head in her hands. Her body still thrummed with the feel of Tristan’s body next to hers. But her heart shattered in pieces. Shredded to thin ribbons. And all because she let herself believe in something besides the numbers she knew so well. Tears fell on the covers of the ledgers on her desk, but Sylvia could have cared less. So this is what it felt like. To have a broken heart.
She’d take the safety of the numbers. When they didn’t add up, she could find the error. There was no helping the pain in her heart.
Chapter 8
November bled into December, and the weather turned cold and bitter. Rather like herself, Sylvia mused as she looked out her office window. A light snow blew outside, and she shivered. She never warmed up. Her heart as frosty as the panes on her window.
Sylvia turned around in her chair and lightly shrugged. It was fine by her. Just another day in her life.
A knock on the door had her lifting her head. Tempest stood there with a plate full of pizza.
“Are you actually going to eat all that?” Sylvia looked astonished at the large pile of pie on Tempest’s plate.
“Are you kidding me?” Tempest licked her lips. “I love pizza.” She picked up a piece loaded with toppings and took a big bite. “Mmm.”
Sylvia’s lips twitched. “At least he’s switching it up a bit. Not just sandwiches.”
Tempest swallowed the bite and held out her plate. “I’ll even let you have a piece of mine, if you like.”
“No.” Sylvia smiled. “I’m not hungry.”
Tempest frowned. “You’re wasting away, woman.” She sat in the chair opposite Sylvia. “Letting all this delicious food Mr. Calhoun keeps sending go to waste.” She motioned to the cup of coffee on the desk. “Are you at least drinking some of that delicious coffee?”
“Not so much.” Sylvia put her hands on her desk. “How’s the Calhoun wedding going?”
Tempest’s blue eyes darkened. “Smooth change of topic. I suppose you’re going to expect me to drop my line of questioning.”
Sylvia nodded. “I suppose I am.”
Tempest took a drink of the coffee and put it back down. “Everything is on schedule.” She paused. “Keira asked about you.”
“And what did you tell her?”
“That you were busy.” Tempest took another bite of pizza and looked at Sylvia. “She wants you there, Sylvia. She wants you there very badly.”
“Her family will be there. That’s all she needs.”
“You would deny a bride on her wedding day?” Tempest dabbed at her lips. “That seems rather harsh.”
“Do you do that on purpose? Twist things around until they suit you?”
Tempest smiled. “Usually. It’s what I admired in you when I first saw you. Hell of a trait.”
“At least from my angle.” Sylvia smiled softly. “Not so much when you do it.”
Tempest threw back her head and laughed. “You delight me, Sylvia. You’re incredibly intelligent. But so damn stubborn that I can’t help but admire your single-mindedness.”
“I’m not going to the wedding.”
Tempest tilted her head to the side. “You don’t usually, do you?”
“No.”
“But this is the wedding of the century. With a lovely young woman who wants you there.”
“I don’t like guilt.”
“Who does?” Tempest took another sip of coffee. “You really should drink this. It’s delicious.”
“I’ve lost my appetite.”
Tempest sighed. “I told Keira I would talk to you. And I have. It’s entirely up to you. If you want to disappoint a major client, I suppose that’s your call.”
“I really don’t like you. You know that, right?”
Tempest’s blue eyes sparkled with laughter. “I’ll get over it.” She stood quickly and scooped up her plateful of pizza. She motioned to the coffee, and Sylvia nodded.
“Help yourself, Tempest. You’re going to do what you want to do, aren’t you?”
“As are you, Sylvia.” Tempest nodded and smiled. “As are you.
* * * *
Liz made sure Bridal Bliss pumped out Christmas Carols twenty four/seven. Sylvia tried to get into the spirit but had a hard time with it. Her office dripped garland and poinsettias. The staff laughed and giggled when a jolly old St. Nick stopped by to give the staff gifts from the Calhoun party.
Sylvia took hers and put it in a desk drawer. Out of sight. Out of mind. She now avoided the newspaper and the television. She made the mistake of watching the news one evening and was treated to the sight of Tristan Calhoun with a stunning blond on his arm. Sylvia immediately turned off the television and went to bed.
And what if she didn’t sleep at night for missing him? What if she missed the smell of him? The feel of him? It would fade. It had to.
She would simply smother her feelings. So easy. Or it used to be. No laughter for her. Just the numbers. Always the numbers. But even they offered a cold comfort.
The days dwindled down until the week before Christmas. Sylvia made sure her staff had their Christmas bonuses and then closed up shop. It’s not as if the holiday held any meaning for her, but she knew the rest of her staff had family to spend time with. People they loved and who loved them waiting to enjoy their company. It only seemed right.
Sylvia went home. She parked her car and walked to her front door. The sight stopped her cold.
Keira Calhoun stood there in a brown leather coat, rubbing her hands together and waiting. As soon as she saw Sylvia, she stepped forward.
“Sylvia!” She rushed forward and hugged her tightly. Keira pulled back and smiled broadly. “Tempest kept telling me that you were busy. I thought it best if I caught you at home.”
Shock raced through Sylvia at a dizzying pace. It would be so simple to send her away with lame excuses and white lies. But the truth was that Sylvia missed Keira. The bubbly golden blond brought a smile to her face. Something she could surely use right now.
Sylvia unlocked her door and started apologizing as soon as she swung it open. Her housekeeping skills had gone straight to hell since that night in her office with Tristan. Dishes were done. That was about it.
“I’m not worried about your house.” Keira smiled and sat down on the couch. She looked around. “It’s a lovely home.”
“Thanks.” Sylvia hung up her coat, a rarity, and sat beside Keira on the couch. “I’ve heard good things about your wedding. How’s the dress?”
“It’s beautiful!” Keira gushed. She brushed back her hair and leaned forward. “Kaello is a miracle worker.” She fished around in her purse until she found what she looked for and showed it to Sylvia.
It was stunning. A creamy white strapless gown with golden threads embroidered across the bodice and down the sides. Sylvia pulled it closer and noted that the threads were actually Celtic knots.
“And look at this!” Keira pulled another picture it. It was a golden circlet that would hold Keira’s veil in place.
Sylvia smiled. “Kaello certainly went above and beyond, didn’t she?”
“I’m so happy.” Keira sniffled and put the photos up.
Sylvia patted her shoulder. “It’s a bit overwhelming, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Keira’s brown eyes sparkled. “I’m so ready to be married to Jon, but I’m nervous.”
“Why?” Sylvia frowned. “Is it about the honeymoon?”
Keira smiled. “That and a million other things.” She sighed. “All my friends just say I’m having wedding jitters. But I’m trying to balance my happiness and sadness all at once.”
Understanding hit Sylvia in a flash. She smiled sympathetically. “Your parents?”
“Yes.” Keira wiped her eyes. “Tristan is the only family I have here, and I love him so much. But who’s going to take care of him when I leave?”
Sylvia’s heart lurched. “Tristan is a big boy. I’m quite sure he can take care of himself.”
Keira shrugged. “He’d like everyone to think so.” She bit her lip. “And I’ve come to ask a favor.”
Sylvia tried to calm her racing pulse. Surely to God, Keira wouldn’t ask her to become a caretaker of sorts for her brother?
“I realize you don’t usually go to weddings.” Keira looked her in the eye. “But I’d appreciate it if you could come to mine.” She held up her hand before Sylvia could speak. “Just for the wedding. You don’t have to stay for the reception.” Keira put her hands on Sylvia’s. “It would mean so much to me.”
Sylvia stood and paced behind her couch. She took a deep breath. “I don’t know.” She smiled down at the bride-to-be. “I usually stay home for the holidays.”
“I know.” Keira stood, also. “But I want you there, Sylvia.” She paused. “Please?”
Sylvia warred with herself. Her last meeting with Tristan had gone badly. Okay, catastrophic. But then she glanced at Keira and knew she would cave.
“Fine, woman.”
Keira smiled and rushed over to hug her. “I can’t thank you enough, Sylvia. You won’t regret it. I promise.”
That remained to be seen.
* * * *
A beautiful day. Sylvia bit back the pain with a great deal of effort. Keira’s wedding. So many people waiting to see the lovely bride and groom say their vows and begin their lives together.
Wind Goddess Page 13
