A MAN CALLED BLUE (14 page)

"Nice night," he said, grinding the innocuous phrase out between clenched teeth and pasting a smile on his face. Hallam swung toward him, yanking his hands from Simone's shoulders as though they were electrically charged. When she immediately stepped away, Blue's breath came easier.

Leaning casually on a terrace balustrade, Blue crossed his arms. Keeping his voice steady, he asked, "This is quite the place, Hallam. Must cost you a bundle to keep up. What've you got here? Fifty, sixty rooms?"

"Seventy-five," he answered stiffly.

Blue whistled. "Seventy-five rooms. How about that," he mused, glancing at Simone. She relaxed visibly. If the moon wasn't deceiving him, a grateful smile curved that delicious mouth of hers. He didn't stop to think how good that made him feel. He went on. "Good investment, I'd guess. How much would a place like this be worth?" he asked brashly.

Hallam made no secret of his contempt for his tasteless inquiry. "What this place costs is none of your business, Bludell. Your question is as ignorant as it is presumptuous."

"Is that right?" Blue stepped away from the rail.

"That's right." Hallam snapped.

"Well, I guess you'd know all about ignorance and presumption, wouldn't you?" He looked around blandly. "Still, I'd like to know how you finance this place. A man like me could retire here—with a generous pension, of course." Ignoring Simone's curious glance, Blue watched Hallam's reaction.

Their gazes locked and the air thickened with threat. Hallam looked away first. By the time he looked back, he'd donned a smooth smile. "Don't know what you mean, old man. Long way from retirement myself. Now if you'll excuse us," he offered his arm to Simone. "I think we should return to my guests."

Simone glanced at both men, but made no move to take Hallam's arm. Instead, she stepped up beside Blue. Blue leaned back against the balustrade.

"Why don't you go back in, Gus? I think I'll stay out here and enjoy the night air." Simone gestured in the direction of the drawing room door.

Even in the moonlight, Hallam's quick rise of temper was obvious. He looked at each of them in turn.

He withdrew his arm and nodded curtly. "Very well," he said, his tone frigid. He took a couple of steps toward the open doors of the drawing room and turned back. "By the by, old man, I wouldn't give too much thought to the cost of this place. It's quite beyond your means. Unless the perquisites of your present job are greater than I assume." He paused, then attached a sneer to his aristocratic features. "Of course anything's possible, I suppose. I'm told Anjana executives pay well for certain, uh, skills. So tell me what
does
a talented financial consultant earn for his services these days?"

Not missing Hallam's double meaning, Blue moved toward him. "You son-of-a—"

Simone's hand on his arm stayed him. "You're right, Gus," she said, giving him a direct stare. "Anjana does pay well. As for Blue's financial skills, you're right again. He's
very
talented—and thorough—as you'll see when he submits his final report on Hallam Porcelain." She eyed him coldly. "I can't wait to see it."

Hallam hesitated. "What you'll see, Simone, is what I've told you you'll see, a sound company at a fair price."

"Perhaps." Then with a slight lift of her chin, she added, "And perhaps not."

Hallam glared, nodded curtly, turned on his heel, and left.

When his temper cooled, Blue noticed Simone was still gripping his arm, her hand trembling, her breath short irregular gusts. "Hey, Tiger, it's okay. Relax."

"I shouldn't have been so—" she stopped, clearly at a loss for words.

"Honest?" he suggested.

She pulled her hand away. "Unguarded. I might have ruined everything. I insulted the man."

"Don't you think you've got it backward? I didn't see
him
pushing
you
away when I arrived on this terrace."

"No, but—"

"No buts about it. You were great. If it hadn't been for you, there would've been a brawl out here worthy of the seediest pub in London. That guy—" Blue gestured with his head to where Hallam had disappeared "—has a face badly in need of rearranging." He lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. Her eyes were filled with uncertainty when she swallowed hard and tried to pull away. He held her, stroked her chin with his thumb. "Are you always this hard on yourself, so determined to second-guess every move?"

To his surprise she closed her eyes, then leaned forward, wrapped her arms around him, and put her head on his shoulder.

It was his turn to swallow, his turn to breath unevenly as he enfolded her in his arms. He knew her impetuous move toward him was a search for comfort, nothing more. She wanted to be held. That was all. The good part was she wanted to be held by him. It was a start. A damn good start. He kissed the top of her head, inhaled deeply of her scent, and wondered where the scent of Paris ended and pure woman began. He intended to find out, but for now holding her was enough.

"Blue?"

"Uh-huh?"

When she started to pull away, he tightened his grip. She settled against him.

"What you said about me second-guessing myself. You were right. That's exactly what I do. It's as if I'm measuring myself against an invisible mark, or playing a game where I'm not sure of all the rules. Sometimes I—" she stopped.

"Go on," he urged.

"Sometimes I don't want to play." She tensed in his arms, her fingers curling into his lapels. "I want to run, but I don't know where."

This time she did pull away. He let her, leaving his hand to rest where her shoulder met the warmth of her throat, waiting for her to finish.

She shook her head and looked at her feet. "I don't know why I'm telling you this. I'm sure I'm not making any sense at all." She smoothed her dress over her thighs and stepped back, looking awkward and slightly forlorn. Blue couldn't tell in the moonlight, but he sensed her blush. He knew he should say something, knew if Simone was any other woman, words would come easily, glibly. Now they stuck in his throat with the pain and weight of a metal wedge.

His thoughts jammed as his heart pounded blood clear to his eardrums. He couldn't breathe.

He loved her!

He was damn well weak with loving her. He closed his eyes briefly against the swell of emotion, equal parts fear and anticipation, threatening to capsize him. When he opened them, she was staring at him, her gray eyes tentative, wary.

"I've embarrassed you. I'm sorry, she said in her dusky voice. "We should go in now. They'll be wondering about us." She patted her hair and glanced in the direction taken by Hallam moments before.

"Let them wonder," he said gruffly, his voice alien and untrustworthy. It wasn't everyday a man fell in love. He'd no idea that when it happened to him he'd spin like a cork in a whirlpool. He also didn't have a clue what to say, or do, next. Another new experience. What he did know was he did
not
want to rejoin that ragtag crew of would-be aristocrats inside. He wanted to be alone with the woman he was going to spend the rest of his life with. He wondered what she'd think if she knew the line his thoughts were on. That thought made him grin, and the grin restored
some
of his equilibrium.

He reached across the distance separating them and hooked his hand around the back of her neck. "Let's leave," he said, not letting her escape his hold or his gaze.

Her mouth opened."Leave?" she parroted."You mean here and now? You and me?" She wasn't making much sense, but she also wasn't saying no, he noticed.

"That's exactly what I mean." He tightened his grip on her neck and pulled her close. "As our mutual friend Nolan would say, let's depart the current farce." He watched her.

She smiled at the oft-heard expression before turning serious again. "I can't do that," she said, her voice unsteady.

He leaned close to her ear, stopped barely short of kissing it before saying. "Can't or won't?" He moved his head, looking down to see the truth in her gray eyes.

"Shouldn't,
to be perfectly accurate," she said, pulling her lower lip under her teeth and glancing thoughtfully toward the drawing room. She was tempted, he could tell. So what could be wrong with tipping the odds in his favor? He pulled her close, brushed his mouth lightly over hers.

"
Shouldn't
doesn't come close to being a reason," he stated firmly, his attention caught suddenly on the closed line of her lip. He traced it with his tongue.

"Where would we go? It's almost midnight." Her voice was huskier now, and her words came with short puffy breaths from a temptingly open mouth. He took her face in his hands, stroked his thumbs over the smooth warmth of her cheeks. Lifted to his, her face glowed pale, the moon's rays lighting her uncertainty.

"Paris, Rome, Madrid... heaven," he whispered against her lips before kissing her with every ounce of persuasion at his command. The kiss, meant to win her over, backfired, bringing him to full aching arousal in a time that would qualify for the Guinness Book of Records. He pulled back, breathing raggedly. "Let's go back to London," he said abruptly, the words as much a surprise to him as they obviously were to Simone.

* * *

Simone stared at him, assimilating his suggestion while trying to force a sense of order back into a world skewed by his kiss. "And?" she finally asked in an effort to reconnect with the conversation.

He gave her a long look, dark with passion and sensuality. "And do whatever you want to do and nothing you don't want to do." He touched her cheek. "You
are
the boss."

The man was crazy. Mad.
Irresistible.

Simone lifted her head and looked deep into his eyes. Dazzled by the sensual promise in them, she found herself nodding cautiously. "All right," she said, then nodded again, more forcefully this time.

"All right," she repeated more to herself than him. "Yes! Let's go, Blue. Let's go as far and as fast as we can."

He took her hand and led her to a door away from the brightly lit drawing room and tried the latch. When it clicked, he opened it a sliver and gave her a conspiratorial smile. "Second thoughts?" he asked, one brow raised in question.

Dazed and exhilarated, she shook a negative.

Blue kissed her quickly on the forehead. "Thank God," he said. "Follow me."

They hurried through the dark room, Simone's hand held firmly in Blue's sea-hardened grip.

Her pulse beat staccato in her throat. Was she really doing this? Playing hooky from her responsibilities with the abandon of a teenager? Responding so recklessly to the startling, unsettling promise in Blue's eyes? She was. Because she knew if she didn't, she'd regret it the rest of her life. She thought about Josephine and stumbled. They were at the first stair leading to their second-floor bedrooms. She rubbed at her ankle, hard, using deferred pain to erase guilt.

Blue stopped immediately. "You okay?" he asked, his tone solicitous.

"Fine. Let's hurry."
Oh, God, let's hurry while I still have the courage.
She giggled softly.
She never giggled!
Nerves, that's all. A simple case of nerves—and wild anticipation. This time she took the lead and pulled Blue behind her.

"Miss Doucet?"

It was William. He stood at the top of the stairs, giving them a curious look. "Sir," he added, dipping his head to acknowledge Blue when he stepped up beside her. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"William," Blue said. "You have impeccable timing. There are several things you can do for us. First, you can tell us if there's a back door to this architectural masterpiece. Second, you can tell our driver to get the car ready, we'll be down in fifteen minutes, and last, you can inform Mr. Hallam—
after
our car clears the grounds—we've been called back to London on business." He clapped the boy on the shoulder. "Can you do that?"

"Yes, sir. I'll see to the car immediately and return at once to assist you with your luggage."

"Oh, and William, be sure to tell Mr. Hallam the business has to do with pension funds."

"Yes, sir," William repeated dutifully.

When the boy rushed off, Blue looked down at her. "So the game begins," he said, his expression a mixture of amusement and resolve.

"Pension funds?" she asked curiously. It was the second time tonight he'd mentioned them.

"Business." He gave her a quick kiss. "I'll explain tomorrow. Okay?"

"Okay," she agreed, not the least reluctantly. Business meant reality; tomorrow would be soon enough for that.

His smile widened at her reply, and she returned it happily, now a full and willing conspirator.

The smile slid from Blue's face slowly, replaced by a sober look of contemplation.

She tilted her head, curious at the sudden change.

"That's the first time you've ever
really
smiled at me. I could get used to it." He squeezed her hand. "Now, let's go. Driving at this time of night, we should be in London before two—a clean getaway."

* * *

Once in the back seat of the Rolls, Blue drew her close and pulled the pins from her hair. She leaned her head first on his shoulder then his chest, as he sprawled more comfortably across the wide leather seat. His heart beat steady in her ear, and she let out a satisfied sigh.