Love Songs (9 page)

Alanna would long since have squelched this discussion with anyone else. But Jake was like family. When he spoke it was from the heart, and she listened. Not that that kept her from arguing.… “I
don’t
want romance, Jake. You don’t seem to understand.”

“You’re right. I don’t. You know, I do respect you women nowadays. You’ve really come a long way. But you’ve pushed aside certain things, forgotten about others. What about love? A family? Children?”

Alanna shrugged, then sighed deeply. “I suppose I’ve chosen other goals.”

“Must it be one or the other?”

“Now, how can I be—heaven help me—the Executive Vice-President of WallMar Enterprises and have a husband and children at home?” she asked grudgingly.

“Men do it all the time. Why not a woman?”

Silence filled the air for long moments. Alanna had never thought of it quite that way. As a matter of fact, she had never spent much time thinking about the subject of a husband and children at all. No man had ever interested her enough to even spark the consideration.

“Why are you saying all this to me now, Jake?” she asked plaintively. “You’ve never mentioned it before. Why now? I thought you approved of my … lifestyle.”

Jake stood and circled the desk to throw an arm about Alanna’s shoulder. “We
care
about you. You know that. I’ve never mentioned it before because … you never have. I felt it would be awkward to bring it up. But now I have to be honest. You have a lot to give, Alanna. Look at what you do for Elaine and me, for those kids, for so many of the people you come in contact with. Don’t you see—you’ve found any number of substitutes for the family you don’t have. Well,” his voice lowered and softened, “maybe you should consider whether you’re ready for the real thing.”

Alanna snorted. “If it’s children I want, I could always—”

“—I’m talking about a man. A husband. Someone to spend the rest of your life with.”

“I’m an independent woman, Jake.”

He eyed her strangely. “You’ve already proven that. Now it may be time to prove some other things.”

Disturbed, she pulled gently away from his arm and walked across the room, blond head down, hands clasped in front of her. “Please don’t confuse me, Jake. My life is perfect as it is.”

Her dear friend sighed. “And that’s why you have trouble sleeping at night.”

“Honestly!” she exploded, looking toward the heavens for help. “You sound just like
him!
” Suddenly she had had enough. “Look, I’ve got to get back to work. Can we discuss the biotechnology proposal later?”

Jake’s smile was understanding. “Sure thing, Alanna.”

“Good.” Heading for the door, she kept her eyes downcast. “I’ll catch you later.”

He caught her arm, staying her for an instant. “Just think,” he spoke softly, temptingly, “you could have it all. Executive Vice-President. Alexander Knight. Love. Security. Kids. Think about it.”

For a last minute, she stared directly at him. “You, my friend, are as crazy as he is!” And with that she made her most regal exit in total defiance of the doubts that raged within. Jake was both friend and near-family. She respected his opinion and what he had said that morning lingered to haunt her throughout much of the day. By the time the sun had lowered in the sky and she headed for the hospital once more Alanna was in no mood to play games with Alex Knight. Having fixed a light dinner at her apartment, where she picked up clean clothes and the other things she would need for the night and the morning, she went directly to the sleep unit. It was her fondest hope that she would
not
bump horns on this particular evening with that very disturbing man.

At least that was what she told herself as she stepped from the elevator and checked in with Sylvia. And it was what she told herself as she dropped her things off in her room. It was what she still told herself as she sat down for a few moments with Ellen Henderson.

Yet her eye surveyed every room she entered, her pulse raced as she spotted
his
name on Ellen’s desk, her skin warmed when she sought refuge in the lounge on the sofa they had shared so very, very early this morning. And, finally, when that deep and now-familiar voice crooned softly by her ear she felt strangely satisfied.

“How’re you doing, owl-eyes?”

4

Without turning, she raised her head. Her lips bore a hint of a smile as he leaned toward her to kiss her cheek lightly. It was impossible to deny the physical effect he had on her, the melting of her insides at his nearness, the quickening of her pulse. Yet she steeled herself as best she could and feigned sternness when he circled the sofa to sit beside her.

“I’ll have you know, Alexander Knight, that Ellen asked some very pointed questions about my sleep pattern. It seems there were certain irregularities at roughly four this morning…”

His “Tell me about it,” suggested that she had no need; he already knew.

For the first time Alanna’s glance stole to his face, finding an instant reward in the warmth it held. There was an openness about him—an openness free of both craftiness and any ulterior motive. She could almost imagine that he was her most intimate friend and lover—then she caught herself. He was neither. He would be neither. Perhaps it was time he understood that.

“Alex…”

“Yeeess…” he drawled, his gaze devouring her with frightening ardor.

“Alex, this is absurd! You take this as a joke. What excuse did
you
give to Ellen?”

“I told her,” he said simply, “that I planned to marry you. I also told her that, while I intend to continue with this study now that I’ve begun, I can make no promises to keep my hands off you.”

“Alex!” She shook her head in disbelief. “This has to stop! We’re here for very serious reasons. I don’t know about you, but it took
me
a long time to admit the need for help. Now that I’m here, I want it.”

He shrugged. “So what’s the problem?”

“The problem,” her eyes flashed in reproach, “is the matter of complications. Kisses stolen in the elevator, on the stairs, in the lounge,
in bed
 … it has to end.”

Alex sobered. “I agree with you there.”

“Then … you’ll keep a safe distance…?” Whether her timidity was in part attributable to dismay, even disappointment at such an easy victory, she was too involved to ponder.

“I’ll do no such thing.” His lips were firm with determination. “
Stealing
kisses has to end. Once you accept my proposal, even agree to wear my ring, we can do it out in the open!”

Alanna was sadly daunted by his persistence. Shaking her head again, she looked away. “What am I going to do with you?” she asked, half to herself.

His voice was deeper, closer. “You can begin by greeting me properly. I haven’t seen you since very, very early this morning. I’ve put in a difficult day at the office—”

“So have I!”

“Then let me show you the kind of comfort
you
need.”

Alanna had no time to protest. Strong fingers cupped her chin, tilting it up as his lips descended to meet hers, parting them swiftly, then proceeding to adore them with a sweetness that stole her breath. It was the kind of kiss she would look forward to at the end of a long day, the kind of kiss she would rush home to, the kind of kiss she could return with a similar offer of comfort and ardor. Which she did. Spontaneously. Reflexively. Intuitively. Without a thought in the world beyond the delight of the moment. It was a perfect pairing, an intermeshing of lips and tongues in perfect harmony with each other. When one coaxed, the other responded. When one challenged, the other satisfied. When, at long last, he moved slowly to the side, Alanna felt bereft. Her forehead fell to his shoulder; her breath was ragged. His was no better.

“That was nice,” he whispered against her ear, his fingers curving around the back of her neck to gently massage it. At no other point did their bodies touch. “I’d like to come home to that every night,” he voiced her own thought. “What do you think?”

Alanna lifted her head, struggling to sort out her thoughts against the powerful distraction of the fingers that had slipped beneath the neckline of her blouse to draw lazy circles on her upper back. “I think,” she breathed shallowly, “that there is a definite physical attraction between us. It doesn’t necessitate marriage.”

His fingers halted their sensual barrage and slowly withdrew. Alex’s expression grew suddenly taut, enigmatic emotions sharpening his glare. “It’s true, then.”

His statement, spoken in a low and somber tone, puzzled her. “What is?”

“Rumor.” At her continued confusion, he explained. “Part of my day was spent learning everything I could about Alanna Evans. There was quite a bit, starting with your appointment as Administrative Assistant at WallMar Enterprises seven years ago, covering your promotions to Director of Development, then Vice-President. And I understand that Jim Callahan is about to retire, leaving an even more prime position open … should Jake Wallace be inclined to name you to it. A remarkably fast rise.”

It was the kind of discussion Alanna might have expected to have with one of her more ambitious colleagues—not with Alexander Knight. These words, coming from him, carried far greater impact. Defiance stiffened her spine, hurt directed her gaze. “What are you implying?”

“I think you know.”

“Oh, I know, all right.” She confronted him with a confidence born of innocence. “But I wanted to hear
you
say it. It’s precisely the kind of thing I’ve had to listen to for the past few years. I expected it from them. Somehow I didn’t from you—though I’m not sure why.”

For a fleeting moment he seemed the slightest bit unsure. “Are you denying it?”

“I have nothing to deny.” Her voice was even, her head held with pride. Only her clenched hands—always her hands—suggested her torment. “If you want a denial you’ll have to make the claim first.”

His lips softened, though his eyes remained wary. “Always on the offensive, eh, Alanna?”

“What’s the matter?” she taunted him. “Don’t have the guts to say it?” She could feel herself beginning to boil. “Is this too public a place to air the dirty laundry? It’s all right to kiss here, but not to clear the air?”

“Keep your voice down,” he warned. His gray-eyed gaze didn’t stray from hers.

Alanna stood up. Though she wasn’t quite ready to admit it, Alex’s unspoken implication had hurt her more deeply than this particular rumor had ever hurt her before. If this man planned to push her to her limits the challenge was now one of maintaining a self-control that was on the verge of shattering.

“I’ll raise my voice when and where I please. When I’m at work there is a certain standard of behavior that is expected from me and I stick to it faithfully.
Here
is another matter. This whole thing—insomnia, you, your persistent talk of marriage—is entirely emotional. If I want to yell, I will.”

Breathing hard, she stood several feet from Alex. When he smirked, she recoiled. “At least you’re not quite the automaton you’d like people to believe,” he observed. “Temper is a very good thing.”

“Temper?” she cried, then did lower her voice as she realized the extent to which she was letting him upset her. “You haven’t heard anything yet! For starters, I want you to leave me alone.” She was trembling now. “I don’t want little kisses here and there. I don’t want clandestine visits in the middle of the night. And I don’t want your nonsense about me marrying you! What man wants a wife who has no scruples?” As his glance sharpened she repeated herself. “That’s right. Isn’t that what you didn’t have the courage to say just now?
No scruples.
A woman who sleeps her way to the top has
no scruples.
There. That thought should keep you away from me!”

With a last scathing glance she made her escape, fleeing to her room, shutting the door, crossing to the night-dark window and tossing her glasses onto the nearby table to stare into nothingness. She felt as though she had been attacked, assaulted by some unknown force. Why had he said that? Why had he implied what he had? And why had she reacted—overreacted—that way? Yes, it was an emotional issue. In the office she could ignore it. Why couldn’t she do so now? If she had wanted a buffer against the lure of Alex Knight this misconception was as good as any. Why, then, did she feel battered? Defeated? Anguished?

“I’m sorry, Alanna.” Alex had entered without her knowledge and stood close behind her. When he reached for her she flinched, and he dropped his hand.

“Please leave me alone,” she demanded coolly.

“I can’t do that. I’ve hurt you. I won’t sleep well until I make up for that hurt.”

“Sleep well! Hah! I guess that’s the bottom line!”

“Sarcasm doesn’t befit you, Alanna.”

“Then leave and you won’t have to listen to any more.”

“Not until we straighten this out.”

Alanna wheeled around and started for the call button. “Then I’ll just get Sylvia in here—”

“You’ll do no such thing,” he growled, catching her arms and swinging her around to face him. “This is between you and me. We don’t need a referee.”