A Bridge to Love (8 page)

“I've
been waiting all day for this,” he said and, before she could react, he pinned
her back against the car and brought his mouth down on hers. In some distant
corner of her mind, sanity and decency protested, but she too had been waiting
for this, and Randall's lips felt like solid velvet against hers. When he
worked his thumbs between their bodies to circle her breasts, the sensation
streaked from her nipples directly down between her legs so fast that she
couldn't stop herself from arching into him.

His
hands shifted lower and came up under her skirt. As his warm palms slid up the
backs of her thighs above the stockings to touch bare skin, he lifted his head
to murmur, “Thank you,” then continued his exploration upward, slipping his fingers
under the lace teddy to cup her buttocks. Kate gasped against his mouth.

She
frantically unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it farther open as each button came
loose. Tracing the lines of muscle on his shoulders, she gave into the urge to
taste him and put her lips against the triangle at the base of his throat,
touching just the tip of her tongue to his skin. She inhaled his clean, male
fragrance and felt, rather than heard, him groan with pleasure.

Then
Kate stopped thinking about anything other than Randall's fingers coming
between her thighs from behind and finding the most sensitive spot on her body,
stroking it, gliding against it and up inside her. Kate felt her muscles begin
to flood and tighten when Randall suddenly withdrew his hands. Ignoring her
whimper of protest, he swept her up in his arms and carried her around to the
front of the car.

She
was briefly aware of warm metal beneath her and then Randall was between her
thighs and inside her. He stretched her arms up over her head and held her wrists
against the hood as he began to move against her, withdrawing almost completely
before he drove himself back in. Kate found the bumper with her heels and
opened herself to him fully, catching his rhythm with her own hips. Her climax
hit so hard that only Randall's weight kept her from arching right off the car.
The clench of her muscles triggered his orgasm and then they collapsed back on
the Jaguar's sloping front.

Randall
levered himself up onto his forearms to look down at Kate. “I think we've come
up with a brilliant new ad campaign for Jaguar,” he said, still breathing hard.

“Depends
on whether you're on the top or the bottom.”

Randall
shifted and reversed their positions so that Kate found herself lying on top of
him. “I'm willing to try it this way, too,” he said.

“You
couldn't possibly...”

“Not
immediately.”

Kate
let her head drop onto his chest, enjoying the feel of his arms loosely crossed
over her back and his hard thigh cradled between her legs. She sighed with
sheer physical well-being.

Randall's
arms tightened around her and she lay there with his heart beating in one ear
and the sounds of crickets and wind-rustled leaves in the other. Her eyelids
drifted closed.

“Are
you asleep?” Randall's voice, a mixture of amusement and incredulity, rumbled
in her ear.

“Of
course not,” Kate said, dragging her consciousness back from the edge of
oblivion. “I'm just very, very relaxed.”

“Well,
as much as I like this pose, a Jaguar's hood leaves something to be desired as
a mattress.”

Kate
laughed and pushed herself to a standing position. Randall gave her a light
kiss on the neck as he helped her straighten her clothes. “You just fulfilled a
long-time fantasy of mine.”

“You've
been drooling over too many auto parts calendars.”

Randall
roared with laughter. “What do you know about auto parts calendars?”

“I've
bought my share of alternators,” Kate said, grateful to turn the subject away
from what they had just done.

Randall
put his arm around her shoulders and steered her up to and through the front
door. “So you fix cars, as well as coach soccer?”

“No,
I just got sent out for spare parts. David and the boys worked on the car.”

Randall's
arm dropped from her shoulders to the small of her back. “This way.”

Kate
preceded him into the big den with the view of Manhattan.

“Let's
see what Rosa cooked for us,” he said.

“Is
your housekeeper still here?” Kate asked in dismay.

“No,
I gave her the night off. And I'll erase the videotape in the security camera.”

Kate
was horrified until she saw the evil glint in Randall's eye. “Wretched man.”

“Actually,
I think that I'll keep the videotape for a lonely night.”

“There
is no videotape,” Kate said with more certainty than she felt.

Randall
held up both hands at shoulder height in a gesture of humoring her, then said,
“Wait here,” and disappeared through another door.

She
spotted the table set for two, positioned to take full advantage of the view.
She smiled wryly at the vase of yellow roses. For Texas, she supposed.

A
bottle of Merlot was open and breathing on the table. She decided that good
manners would have to take a backseat to need. She filled the two glasses and
took a gulp of hers as she stared out the window at the lights of New York
City.

Her
body was still tingling with the aftereffects of making love on the Jaguar. She
envisioned sitting at this small table, locked into his dark gaze, listening to
that Texas drawl and knowing what he felt like inside her. The tingling became
a hum of longing. She should get out of here. Now.

Footsteps
made her turn around. Randall was carrying a large tray, loaded with dishes. He
slid it onto a serving table.

“We
have duck cassoulet tonight, one of Rosa's specialties,” he said as he lifted a
lid and a most delicious aroma wafted past Kate's nostrils. “She says that it
suffers less than most dishes from being left in the warming pan for hours.”

Kate
ignored her Pavlovian response to the smell of food.

“I'm
sure that it's wonderful but I really think that it would be better if I went
home now. I'm sorry to be an ungrateful guest,” she added as Randall's eyebrows
became straight, angry lines across his forehead.

He
dropped the lid back on the plate with a clatter. “What is the problem with
you, Kate? We have an incredible time on the hood of my car, and then when I
try to be a gentleman and give you dinner, you turn and run.”

The
problem was that she didn't want him to be a gentleman. He was supposed to be
an instrument of revenge, not a living, breathing human being.

She
crossed her arms and looked at the fireplace, trying to formulate a plausible
lie to get out of his house without further damage.

“Oh,
no,” Randall said, shaking his head as he came toward her. “I can see the
wheels turning in that pretty head of yours. I don't want an excuse. I want you
to look me in the eye and tell me the truth. Why do you want to leave now? In
fact, go right back to the beginning and tell me why you called me in the first
place.”

By
this time, Randall was so close that Kate was looking straight at his chest.
She could feel his breath stirring her hair, but she refused to look up at his
face. They stood like that for a moment as Kate's mind raced in circles. Then
Randall put his hand under her chin and slowly exerted pressure upward.

“I
said to look me in the eye and tell me the truth,” he repeated. Kate reluctantly
raised her eyes to meet his cold stare.

She
didn't like being bullied and suddenly she was just as angry as he was.

“Truth
is vastly overrated,” she said, lifting her chin out of his grasp and turning
her shoulder on him as she moved away.

Then
she faced him squarely. “This particular truth is not flattering to either one
of us.”

“I
can handle it.”

Kate
shrugged. As humiliating as it was to her, telling Randall why she had called
him would undoubtedly cure him of any desire to spend more time in her company.
Kate felt a momentary regret that he would have such a bad opinion of her
forever.
Well, that can't be helped.

“Shortly
after I met you, I discovered that my husband had been having an affair prior
to his death. I felt the need to retaliate in some way and you were my
retaliation.”

There
was dead silence. Then, incredibly, the corners of Randall Johnson's mouth
twitched upward. He started to chuckle and then he laughed outright. And kept
on laughing.

“What
is so funny?”

“I
didn't think that anyone could surprise me anymore, but you've gone and done
it.”

He
dropped onto the couch behind him, wiping his eyes. Then he stretched out his
legs and put his arms behind his head. “So you were using me as payback. Too
bad your husband's not around to know that.”

Kate
flinched. “Yes, well, I wasn't thinking clearly at the time.”

“Is
revenge sweet, Kate?”

“No,
it was a terrible idea, and I'm not proud of it. But now you know the truth. We
can shake hands and go our separate ways.” Kate wished she felt happier at that
prospect.

“I
think you owe me.”

“
What
? No. No more debts,” Kate said.
“I've paid the last one off.”

“You
don't need to rush away, Kate. We can work this out to both our advantage,” he
said, his drawl thick and slow. “I'll be happy to pick you up, bring you here,
and... enjoy your company anytime you feel the need for revenge.”

“I
told you that you wouldn't like the truth.”

“I'm
willing to work with it.”

“I
thought that all men fantasized about enjoying a woman's company with no
strings attached.”

“We
do.”

“Well,
that's what you got. So why are you angry?”

Randall
gave a bark of laughter. “Sheer perversity, I guess.”

Kate
was on a roll and she wasn't ready to let it go at that. “No, that's not it.
It's because
I
decided that
I
didn't want any ties to you.
You
didn't get to control the
situation.”

Randall's
expression had been darkening throughout her speech. “I don't know where you
get your ideas about me, lady, but they're way off base.” He rubbed the back of
his neck in a gesture of exasperation.

Kate
crossed her arms and made a pretense of waiting patiently. Secretly, she was
relieved that he hadn't exploded. Her temper rarely got the better of her, and
when it did she was always terrified of the consequences. Fortunately,
Randall's anger appeared to have fizzled into mere annoyance.

“Oh
hell,” he growled. “I'll take you home.”

Kate
flashed him a false smile and started toward the front door. In two strides, he
was by her side with his hand resting at the small of her back. When she
glanced sideways, though, she found that he was looking straight ahead. He
helped her into the car and slid in himself in silence. As he put the car in
gear and swept around the courtyard, Kate said in a tone of polite interest,
“How's the investigation of the oil tank fire going?”

Randall
looked at her and shook his head. “Incredible. We go straight from true
confessions to small talk.”

“There's
no reason we can't be civilized about this.”

“I'm
just a country boy from Texas. I don't know how civilized people carry on.”

Kate
snorted.

Randall
capitulated. “We caught the man. He's a former employee with a grudge against
the crew foreman.”

“So
he'll go to jail?”

“No,
he'll go for treatment. He's an alcoholic and he'd been on a bender when he set
the fire.”

“That's
very humane of you.”

Randall
glanced over at her. “Don't feel that you have to revise your opinion of me. It
should have been caught when he worked for TexOil. We pay for any substance
abuse treatment. It was our mistake; somehow he slipped through the cracks.”

“You
sound more like a social worker than a capitalist.”

Randall
shrugged. “Obviously, unstable employees – and former employees – are bad for
the company. And this man has a wife and children who deserve a break. My
mother was an alcoholic, so I know what it can do to a family.”

Kate
was astonished by the personal revelation. She voiced a realization without
thinking. “You know, I've never thought that you were a terrible person, or I
couldn't have done what I did.”

“Much
obliged.”

Kate
flushed and kept quiet.

“What
happened to being civilized? I was enjoying our conversation,” Randall prodded.

“It's
your turn to think of a topic.”

“Hmm,
what can we easily chat about?” Randall mused. “I know. What was your favorite
locale: the terrace wall, my bed, or the Jaguar?”

Kate
looked out her window and ignored him.