Nick raised his head. “You want me.”
It wasn’t a question, but she answered him anyway. “I want you.”
He parted her legs and entered her in one powerful thrust that took her breath away. It was the past and the present. It was nothing and everything blending together. They were young, they were old. Their bodies and their souls recognized each other and welcomed the reunion. And when Nick went over the edge, she went right along with him, falling, falling, falling.
He caught her the way he always had. His arms tightened around her, his mouth comforted her with a kiss, as her heart slowed down and her mind came back to earth. Nick rolled onto his back, taking her with him, until her head rested on his chest and her arm fell across his waist. His hand stroked her back. His breath blew through her hair, and she felt loved.
The boat rocked gently on the water as silence covered the cabin like a warm blanket.
Lisa didn’t know if Nick was as afraid of conversation as she was, but they both remained silent, and Nick held her as tightly as she held him. There was love in the small cabin. There was also fear. Because Lisa didn’t know what came next, and she had a feeling Nick didn’t either.
Chapter 23
Raymond smiled hello to various people as he walked through the banquet room at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel. The room was filled with advertising and public relations people gathered together for their regular monthly meeting. Raymond had always enjoyed the dinners; it was a good place to make contacts and catch up on what was happening with the other agencies.
Tonight he felt restless, frustrated with Elisabeth for staying in San Diego and irritated with himself for not being able to convince her to come home. He’d barely been able to concentrate on the evening speaker, and he had no idea what his dinner companions had had to say.
He kept seeing Elisabeth’s face and that man’s face—her ex-husband.
They had looked so good together. The thought had run through his mind like a maddening refrain all day long. And Elisabeth was connected to that man emotionally. They’d lost a child together. He couldn’t imagine the horror of that. Which brought him to the next question.
Why hadn’t she told him about her marriage, her child?
He’d always thought of her as an open book, only to discover now that she had once had a completely different life. He also couldn’t shake the image of the box of wedding invitations sitting on the kitchen counter. She hadn’t mailed them. In fact, even before she’d gone to San Diego, she’d been stalling. He could see that now—her missed appointments with Mrs. Carstairs, her unwillingness to turn over the entire wedding to a professional consultant, her desire for a small, private wedding rather than the splashy one he preferred.
He’d wanted to show her off. He thought of them as a public couple, one who would be invited to movie premieres and grand openings. They would attend cocktail parties at fancy homes—the successful rich advertising executive and his beautiful young bride.
Elisabeth had had a different idea. She’d always talked about a small wedding, quiet evenings at home where they could work on new campaigns over wine and bread. He’d thought she was being shy, and that with a little encouragement from him she would open up and blossom as young women often did.
But she’d already blossomed with that other guy, he thought in disgust. She wasn’t just shy, but secretive. What else hadn’t she told him?
He felt like he didn’t know her anymore. He’d never seen her so crumpled looking, tired, wrung out. With him, she was always put together, always beautiful, always young. That’s the way he wanted her to be. And she would be that way if she married him, because he would make sure that she had household help and money for hair styling and clothes and jewelry. He would make her life incredibly easy. They would have no children to worry about, no responsibilities except work and each other. It was the perfect match.
Yet he’d felt old standing next to Elisabeth in her friend’s kitchen.
He’d felt out of place and unwelcome. Their conversation had been stilted. He’d tried to act mature, understanding, kind, and compassionate in the face of her obvious distress. But to hell with all that. Elisabeth wasn’t supposed to make him feel old; she was supposed to make him feel young. That’s why he’d deliberately sought out a younger woman.
He stopped at the bar in the corner of the banquet room and ordered a gin and tonic. While he waited for the bartender to fix his drink, he glanced around the room and saw Beverly standing at the far side of the room, deep in conversation with the head of another advertising agency.
Of course, Beverly had come to the meeting. She thought exactly the same way he did. Too bad she wasn’t fifteen years younger.
Beverly looked up and caught him staring. She waved and smiled, apparently glad to see him. He didn’t know why, really. They drove each other mad most of the time. He grinned, thinking about the time he’d dropped shrimp cocktail down the front of her fancy suit. Now, that had been fun.
Beverly finished her conversation and walked over to join him.
“Hello, Raymond. We meet again. Are you following me?”
It was a teasing question, but deep down Raymond wondered if he hadn’t come to the meeting just to see her. No, that was impossible. Although her flirting did make him feel good, and after the day he’d had, feeling good wasn’t such a bad thing.
“It’s a public meeting,” he said. “Actually, I’m surprised you’re here. I thought you might take this opportunity to break into my office and steal all my ideas.”
“You don’t have any worth stealing. And, I don’t need to cheat to win. Although you apparently don’t feel the same way. I saw your young hotshot taking my new mail room girl out to lunch. Coincidence?” She tilted her head to one side. “I think not.”
“Paul is friends with your employee, nothing more. And do you really think I’d depend on someone in the mail room to give me good information?”
“No. You’re too smart for that. Besides, I’d just plant the wrong information with her and send you off on a wild-goose chase.”
He smiled. “I know you would.”
“Where’s Elisabeth?”
He took a sip of his drink. “She’s not back yet.”
Beverly’s eyes widened in surprise. “Not yet? But she’s been gone for days.”
“It hasn’t been that long. “”Are you going to ask Monty for an extension?”
“I won’t need one.”
Beverly sent him a sharp, piercing look that he tried to avoid. “Is she working from San Diego then?”
“I don’t think it’s any of your business.”
“It’s not, but I’m curious.”
“Curiosity killed the cat.”
“I’m not a cat.”
“You sure do have cat’s eyes,” he said softly.
Her eyes gleamed with that comment, and suddenly the air between them became intensely personal. “Maybe you should find out if I have claws.”
“I already know the answer to that question.”
“You might be surprised.”
“Beverly, we’re competing against each other for a big account.” He looked around to make sure no one was listening to him. “I’m not going to sleep with you.”
“What I have in mind does not involve sleeping,” she replied with a wicked smile. “However, I must admit I’m surprised by your choice of excuses. Shouldn’t you have reminded me that you’re engaged? Shouldn’t that be the reason why you don’t sleep with me?”
“It is. Of course, it is.”
“You’re not very convincing. Did something happen between you two?”
“Nothing much.” He finished his drink. “Although I did find out she was married before.” Now, why had he told her that?
“No kidding.” Beverly whistled under her breath. “I never would have guessed. Who was he? Somebody in advertising?”
“I have no idea what he does for a living. It was years ago. Look, forget I said anything. It’s not any of your business.”
“Elisabeth is not that old. It couldn’t have been that many years ago that she was married.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” He set his glass down on an empty table. “I have to go.”“I’ll walk out with you. Don’t worry, I won’t try to seduce you again.”
“I wasn’t worried,” Raymond said, but inside he felt a little disgruntled at her lack of effort. Not that he would say yes. He had too much on the line to show any weakness in front of a competitor, and Beverly was definitely that. Making love with her would make him vulnerable. He couldn’t afford that risk.
They walked out of the hotel together and into the parking lot. Raymond accompanied Beverly to her car and waited until she’d unlocked it. Instead of getting in, she paused, her hand on the door.
“If we weren’t competitors …”
“Maybe,” he said, reading the question in her eyes.
“But I’m old.”
Raymond suddenly smiled. “So am I.” He laughed. The realization took a huge weight off his shoulders. “I think I just realized that.”
“It’s about time.” She stepped forward, playing with the edge of his collar. “You know, with me you wouldn’t have to pretend to be dignified and mature and all-knowing. You could just be sexy and wild. Think about it.” She kissed him quickly on the mouth, then got into her car and shut the door.
Raymond put a hand to his mouth, still tasting her lips long after she’d driven away. Think about it, she’d said. Like he could think about anything else. Maybe it was good Elisabeth hadn’t sent out the wedding invitations.
“I don’t know what to do,” Maggie declared. She got up from her seat on the couch in the lobby of the Crestmoor Hotel. “We have just spent twelve hours watching a door. Do you realize that?”
“Actually, I’ve been writing. You’ve been watching the door,” Jeremy replied.
“Yeah, and a lot of good it’s done me. I don’t think I’m cut out for stakeouts.” Maggie frowned as she glanced at the notebook he’d been scribbling in off and on all day. “What are you writing about, anyway? “He smiled mysteriously. “I have a new idea for a book.”
“Is it about a woman looking for her supposedly dead husband?”
“Maybe.”
“You can’t write about me.”
“It’s fiction, Maggie. Relax, it’s not about you. I was kidding. I love it when you get mad. Your eyes take on this great fiery glow.”
Maggie sent him a disgusted look and stood up. “I’m hungry, I’m tired and I’m cranky. I’ve spent the entire day glued to this chair with only three trips to the bathroom to break up the monotony of watching people walk in and out of this hotel. The only two people who haven’t gone through this lobby are Serena and Keith. They’re probably in their room having an orgy of sex. I would give anything to find out their room number.”
“You already flirted with three bellboys, the concierge, and a desk clerk. Then you tried bribery, which also didn’t work. I don’t think you have anything left to give.” Jeremy scribbled another sentence in his notebook, then closed it.
“Well, obviously seducing information out of men is not my forte. It’s Serena’s.”
“She’s not so bad.”
“Jeremy!”
“Sorry.” He stood up and walked over to her, turning her around so he could massage her shoulders with his hands.
The tension eased as he worked his fingers against her tight muscles.
“Let’s call it a night. There’s a great restaurant here. We can have dinner, drinks, maybe dance a little in the lounge. What do you say?”
“I’m sure Serena and Keith will walk into this lobby as soon as I leave.”
“That’s entirely possible.”
“Then I’m staying here.” She turned in his arms. “But you don’t have to stay, Jeremy. In fact, if you want to go back to L.A.” I will understand.”
“And not see how this ends? Are you kidding? “He paused. “I’ll go to the coffee shop and see what I can drum up for our dinner.”
“Could you wait just one second?” Maggie asked. “I need to make a phone call.”
“Actually, I do, too. I want to check my messages.” Jeremy followed her to the bank of phones at one end of the lobby.
“You go ahead,” Maggie said, urging Jeremy to finish his call and head down to the coffee shop so she could call home without him standing next to her. While Jeremy made his call, she kept her eyes focused on the lobby. After investing so much time in this stakeout, she didn’t want to miss them at this late date.
“Oh, damn,” Jeremy said. “I can’t believe this.”
She looked at him in surprise, but he held up a hand while he jotted something down in his notebook.
“Maggie, you have to hear this,” he said, motioning for her to join him.
“But Serena—” Maggie hated to leave the lobby unwatched for even a second.
“Serena is on my message machine,” he said, punching in a code to retrieve the messages once again. “Listen.”
Maggie took the receiver out of his hand somewhat reluctantly. She didn’t like the look on his face, the grim tone in his voice. After hearing one message from a producer asking Nick to call him about a script, Serena’s voice came on the line.
“Jeremy. I’ve had a change of plans. My friend, Wanda, is going to come over to pick up some of my things tonight, but I need you to let her in, since you have an extra key to my condo. It should be around nine. I hope you’re back by then. You won’t believe what’s happened.”
Maggie caught her breath as Serena’s voice softened.
“I’m with someone special. He finally left his wife for me. I know you always tell me that married men are a bad idea, but I just couldn’t resist him, and now he’s finally mine. But his wife is trying to get him back, and she keeps calling my room, and it’s a mess. Anyway, we’re leaving now to drive down the coast to Santa Barbara. I’ll call you when we get to the Miramar. Thanks. “Bye.”
Maggie hung up the phone and strode toward the lobby, determined to confront Serena and Keith as soon as they came downstairs. Jeremy caught her by the arm.
“Maggie, the time on the message was three o’clock.”
She looked at him in confusion, hearing his words but not really understanding them.
“She’s gone,” he said.
“That’s impossible. We would have seen them leave.” Maggie walked back to the telephone. She dialed the operator and asked for Serena’s room.
“She’s checked out,” the operator said.
“She has to be there,” Maggie insisted. “I’m sorry, but she’s no longer registered, ma’am.”
Jeremy took the phone out of her hand and hung it up. “They must have gone directly down to the garage level and rented a car,” Jeremy said. “That’s the only thing I can think of. Or else they saw us sitting here and found another way out of the hotel.”
“It was all for nothing. All day, we waited, for nothing. I can’t do this.” Maggie felt light-headed and swayed on her feet, trying to focus on Jeremy’s face, on his shirt, on the floor, anything to stop the dizziness.
“Hey, Maggie.” He pulled her against his chest. “Easy now. We’re not done.”
“Yes, we are.”
“No, we’re not.”
“I’m going home, Jeremy. I should have gone home a long time ago.”
He looked into her eyes, and she saw a stubbornness she was beginning to find as exasperating as it was endearing. “You can’t go home,” he said. “You can’t leave in the middle of an adventure.”
“It’s not an adventure. It’s a nightmare, and—”
Jeremy’s mouth cut off the rest of her sentence. She pushed against his chest, trying to end the kiss, but he was too strong, and far too good a kisser. He drew her resistance out along with her breath.