Falling For Her Boss (24 page)

"What's the damage?" Noah asked.

"I can take you through now, then we can seal it off."

When they entered the front doors, the stench almost overwhelmed Francie--smoke, water, burned materials.  Except for smoke lingering in the air, the rink area looked fine.  But when she saw the snack bar, the kitchen, and the supply room, she wanted to cry.  Black everywhere.  Charred wood.  Stained walls and floors.  There were no words for it.

The images lingered as Noah quickly ushered her through and back out into the night.  As they drove to the apartment, she knew it would be a long time until she could forget the sights and smells of the rink on fire.

Noah opened her car door for her and she got out, still feeling dazed.

"Do you want to call your parents?"

"There's no point.  I don't want to spoil their night.  There's nothing they can do."  She felt tears push to her eyes.

Noah wrapped her in his arms.  "Let's go upstairs."

Right now she didn't care what "looked good" or about the proper thing to do.  She needed Noah.

 He let her into what she now thought of as "his" apartment.  They'd made love here every night and some days since Thursday.  At least she had made love to him.  He hadn't said he loved her.  Gina's words had put the whole thing in perspective.  Noah will be gone.

Francie laid her coat on the sofa and wrapped her arms around herself.  "Do you think it's chilly up here?"

Noah tossed his coat on top of hers.  "Come here."

The wind had rumpled his hair.  He'd tugged down his tie and opened the top button of his shirt.  The thought of peeling it back over his shoulders took her chill away and momentarily made her forget about the condition of the rink.  She went to him and he wrapped his arms around her.

She couldn't keep the question inside any longer.  "What's going to happen?  What are we going to do about the rink?"

His hesitation should have been a warning signal.  But she wasn't looking for warning signals; she was looking for answers.

He held her tighter and smoothed her hair away from her face.  "We'll talk about it in the morning."

With that, he kissed her.  His hand stroking her hair and his tongue exploring her mouth created feelings that made talking useless and feelings too intense to ignore.  Somehow she had to convince Noah they could have a life together, that they could combat any obstacle, solve any problem.  As long as they loved each other, nothing was impossible.

But what if he didn't give her the chance to convince him?  Tears rushed to her eyes.  She had sworn she wouldn't do this; she wouldn't blackmail him with tears.

He must have sensed her emotional upheaval.  Leaning back, he lifted her chin.  She blinked, but not fast enough.  Noah kissed her tears away.

She kept her arms linked around his neck.  "I'm sorry.  I don't want you to leave.  Ever."  She thought she might see anger, but she didn't.  She only saw sadness a moment before his lips captured hers again.

Noah wanted to reassure her, wanted to calm her fears.  But he couldn't.  Driving back here tonight, he'd made the rational decision to sell the rink.  It was the only logical option.

Money was too tight.  Until the insurance company settled, until he hired contractors, until they repainted, recarpeted, rebuilt, there would be no profit coming in.  He might be able to weather it, but he didn't want to sell another rink or go into debt.  It had taken years to become successful.  Craig had almost ruined that success.

Noah felt Francie's soft, warm body pliant against his.  He needed her tonight.  He needed to forget he'd be leaving in a few days.  If he told her about his decision...

He was afraid she'd pull away.  He was afraid she'd see it as rejection.  He was afraid he'd lose her for this little amount of time he had left with her.  He hadn't thought ahead to what would happen after he went back to Richmond.  More traveling, for sure.  That was his life now.  How could Francie and a relationship fit into that?

Didn't they deserve tonight with no barriers, no pulling away, no fighting that could tear them apart?  Right now, tonight was all he wanted, all he needed.  He couldn't give it up.

Francie's tongue tangled desperately with his.  Her arms tightened and her fingers delved into his hair.  She seemed to need him as much as he needed her.  Tomorrow would be soon enough to tackle the aftermath of the fire.  Tomorrow they would face the problems.  Tonight he would hold her and pleasure her and try to show her how much he cared.

He was going to take her on a slow journey this time, a journey that would tell her all the things he couldn't say.  He didn't have any answers, only questions.  He knew he had to go back to Richmond and attend to business.  He knew he might be ready for some changes.  But he hadn't analyzed the changes or what the future could hold.

Noah let his lips and tongue and hands tease and court Francie.  As he kissed and stroked through her dress, she sighed, moaned, and pressed into him with the same wanton desire surging through him.  The three small buttons at the neck of her dress became as difficult to undo as a Chinese puzzle because he could taste her, smell her, feel her so close.  Then there was the sweater belt looped in a simple square knot.  But he was too agitated, too hungry for any of it to be simple.

He helped her out of her dress, dispensed with her slip, and stared.  The garter belt almost made him forget that slow existed.

Francie reached out to him and he remembered.

He placed her hands on his shoulders, wanting to give her something special, something he'd never wanted to give a woman before.  "Not yet.  I want to touch you, look at you, remember you."

She didn't say anything, but her eyes became shiny, too shiny for him to deal with.  He needed to put passion there instead of longing, desire instead of dreams.

With a flick of his wrist, he unsnapped the bra and knelt before her.

"Noah?"

"Just hold on, sweetheart.  Hold on."

Touching her as if he'd never touch her again, he smoothed over her breasts, teased the lace band of her panties, and played with the straps of her garter belt.  "You're so sexy, so soft...so loving.  You've given me precious gifts, Francie."

"Then why go?  Why leave?  Can't we...?"

She stopped and he realized she wouldn't apply any pressure.  Not now when they were this close, this intimate, this together.  He rolled her stockings down one leg, then the other.

Brushing his hands up and down her thighs, he looked up and saw her parted lips, her flushed face, her glistening eyes.  He stripped off her garter belt and panties, brushed up and down her thighs again, then replaced his hands with his lips.

When she moaned, he murmured, "Open for me, sweetheart."

She curled her fingers on his shoulders as she balanced herself, never questioning what he needed, never questioning the intimacy he wanted to share.  He cupped the dark curls at the apex of her thighs.

When he put his mouth to her, she swayed and caught herself.  Holding her hips steady, he teased her with his tongue until she cried his name.

"It's going to be good, Francie.  So good."

"I love you, Noah."

She didn't murmur it tonight.  She said it clearly and loudly for him to hear and respond to.  But instead of responding with words, he touched her again and again with his fingers and his tongue until she cried out in ecstasy.  Then he lifted her into his arms and took her to his bed.

She gazed up at him with passionate brown eyes, looking only at him.  As he stripped, she watched.  Her appreciation was so damn arousing.  When he lay down beside her, she stroked his chest, then propped on her shoulder.  "I want to give you what you gave me.  I want to love you every way I can."

She kissed his lips with a slow, tasting fervor that made sweat break out on his brow.  She kissed his nipple with a slow sucking motion that drew his arm muscles taut.  She kissed his navel and his thigh muscles contracted.  And when her cheek brushed him, then her lips, he thought he'd found heaven.

He shuddered and knew he'd had enough if he wanted complete union.  That's what he wanted tonight.  He couldn't see further than that.  He rolled her onto her back, sheathed himself in a condom, then sheathed himself in her.

Each stroke brought them closer together, each kiss desperately defied their parting, each caress made Noah wonder what he was giving up, why he was giving it up, and how he could change the nature of his past and the course of his future.  Francie was the rainbow he could never reach, the pot of gold he could never find, the love he'd never experienced.  That realization pushed him to the edge, toppled him over the peak, and, as Francie tightened her thighs around him, propelled him to the same wonder she found as she raked her nails down his back and shouted her joy.  He lowered himself, kissed her, and wrapped his arms around her.

Francie nestled into his shoulder, holding him as tightly as he held her.

****

Francie reached for Noah and found the wrinkled sheet.  Strong morning sun flashed across the foot of the bed.  She heard a low voice in the kitchen.

Grabbing one of Noah's shirts from the closet, she buttoned it and went to find him.  He was on the phone.

"Okay, Tom.  I'll wait to hear from you later today."

A chill ran up Francie's back that had nothing to do with her bare feet.  "Tom Carson?"

"Haslow and Chesterfield still want the property.  They've raised their offering price.  I'm going to sell."

"You can't!  More important, you promised you wouldn't!"

"Francie, this is a business decision.  The fire last night gave me no choice.  It will take time to repair and rebuild.  In the meantime the rink will be losing money again.  I can't afford that right now.  My cash flow is too strained."

She remembered what Craig had said about a problem if there was an unexpected crisis.  But much more was involved here than the rink.  What about the two of them? 

When she remained silent, Noah quickly continued,  "I'm not forgetting about you.  With the sale, I can give you enough severance pay so you can start school.  You can get that teacher's degree you want."

He hadn't forgotten about her.  How wonderful.  He also hadn't said he loved her or needed her in his life.  Selling the rink would sever their ties.  He'd have no reason to come back to Gettysburg.  "No severance pay can buy me off."  Francie's heart beat so hard she could barely breathe as a realization hit her.  "When did you make this decision?"

"After the fire."

"Before or after we made love?"  It was immensely important that she know.

"Francie, what does it matter?"

"It matters to me.  When?"

"As we drove back here."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew you'd be upset.  You were upset enough."

"You know what you did, Noah?  You used me."

"I did not."

"You didn't tell me about the rink because you knew I wouldn't make love with you if you told me."

Noah's face changed, and the change scared her.  It looked like the face of a man who'd had a dream grasped from his hands.  "Does your love depend on what I do with the rink?"

"No.  But it does depend on honesty.  I gave you everything last night, Noah--everything I felt, everything I am.  I thought you gave that to me, too.  But now I find it was some kind of calculated ruse--"

"You're wrong."

"Tell me, Noah.  After you left this week, when was I going to see you again?"

His expression didn't change.  "I don't know."

Her heart seemed to sink to her toes.  "It doesn't matter to you if we never see each other again?"

"I didn't say that."

Francie had never felt more confused.  She couldn't have dreamed the strong feelings between her and Noah, yet his leaving denied them, his actions denied them, his words denied them. 

She hurt too badly to keep her thoughts to herself.  "I guess I was a convenient affair.  I made the same mistake twice, falling in love with ambitious men who have no room in their lives for love."

She took one last long look into his hard green eyes and then went to get dressed.  Good-bye had arrived sooner than she'd expected.

****

The sterility of Noah's office walls in Richmond glared at him with unnerving sameness, echoing the sterility of his life.  Monday morning, Francie had left the apartment and his life.  He'd left Gettysburg on Tuesday, simply because being so close to her yet so far away had hurt too much.  He hadn't contacted her before he left.  She hadn't contacted him. 

Two hours out of Gettysburg he'd tried to look at their situation rationally.  Simply put, Francie had felt betrayed.  Under the circumstances, he would have felt the same.  After Noah had discovered Craig's embezzling, he'd wondered how Craig had faced him day after day, knowing he was being dishonest with his friend.  Yet Noah had made love to Francie, knowing full well he'd made his decision.  Of course, it went deeper than thinking she wouldn't make love with him if he told her.  Subconsciously, he'd figured it would tear them apart, a thought that had become more and more unbearable.

He'd been back in Richmond a week, and he now realized—without a doubt—he loved Francie.  That's why their physical relationship had been fantastic.  That's why he wanted to spend every minute with her.  Because he loved her.  He'd been afraid to call it that.  He'd been afraid to feel it.  He'd been afraid to risk it.  He'd been afraid to declare it.

And now he was afraid he'd lost Francie for good.  Losing her was unthinkable.  He'd rather lose every customer, every manager, every rink, every penny.  But he was new at this.  He was new at love and showing his feelings.

So he called Craig.  After the preliminaries, Noah asked bluntly, "How are you and Joanne?"

"I moved back in with her and the kids last week."

"That's terrific, Craig.  Uh...can you tell me how you made it happen?  How did you get her to trust you again?"

"It sounds as if there's a point to that question."

"I've met someone."

"Francie Piccard."

"How do you know?"