Remember the Dreams (18 page)

❧

When Toni returned to her office that afternoon, she felt better than she had in days. Talking had helped. The dull void in her chest was still there, but she was more determined than ever to stop torturing herself with thoughts of dreams that could never be fulfilled. She'd gotten over Kyle once before—when she'd moved to New York. Not that that could really compare to what was happening now. Then, she had only fantasies. Now, she had to contend with realities. Knowing what it felt like to be held by him, to make love with him, made dealing with this loss so much more difficult. Even harder to cope with was the fact that she'd lost her best friend.

Another week passed. Toni dutifully followed Greg's advice by jogging in the park by her house whenever she could—and trying to cut down on her caffeine consumption. Some things were easier than others. She felt like she was finally making progress though. She didn't even think about Kyle anymore—anymore than every other hour anyway. Negligible as it seemed, that was an improvement.

Yes. She smiled to herself, pulling off her perspiration-damp sweatsuit and stepping into the shower. She'd finally hired that assistant she'd promised herself and had actually arrived home at four o'clock two days in a row.
I'm going to be just fine.

At least that's what she thought until the phone calls started.

❧

She had been out the first time Kyle called. Knowing that just the sound of his voice might undo her completely, she very carefully tore up the pink message slip into about twenty little pieces and dropped them into her wastebasket. The second time he called, Toni was in.

Instead of taking the call, she told her secretary to tell him she was on her way out. Then, to save her secretary the embarrassment of telling an outright lie, she backed up her words by going to the ladies' room.

The third call came two days later. It was from Madeline.

"How are you, dear?" There was a wealth of genuine concern in Madeline's question.

Toni's grip tightened on the receiver. It felt like an entire butterfly collection had just been unleashed in her stomach.

Telling herself that just because Madeline worked for Kyle was no reason to come unglued, she managed an easy reply. "I'm just fine. And how are you doing? How's your back?" She was thinking of all the times she'd seen Madeline frowning while she worked her weathered hands over her stiff shoulders.

"Well, I'm.. . that is. . ."

A little warning bell went off in Toni's head. She didn't think that Madeline's hesitation was because she was pondering the state of her health. Certainly she must know how she was feeling.

"Yes, Madeline?" Toni prompted, keeping the suspicion from her tone. Had Kyle put her up to this call?

"Oh, I'm just as good as ever. . . and I . . . well, I didn't want to bother you at work. I mean, I know how busy you are, and I didn't have your phone number to call you ... to call you at home. ..." She definitely sounded nervous. And that didn't sound like Madeline. "... If it's not convenient for you right now ..."

"I'm not busy." That was a lie, but a harmless one. Leaning back in her chair, Toni stared out the window—it was raining again—and waited for a more fluid string of words.

She finally heard them.

"Well," Madeline began again. "You left a few things here. Some underthings. They were in the laundry. I didn't think you'd want them sent to your office like Kyle said to do. So, if you'll give me your new address ..."

Her address. So that was it. Her secretary had said that a man had called yesterday wanting to verify her new residence. When she'd asked him to give her the address he had so she could confirm it, he'd hung up.

Toni had suspected who that "man" might have been. Now she was sure of it. If she still couldn't trust herself to talk to Kyle on the phone, she certainly wouldn't be able to handle it if he showed up at her door.

"Why don't you take the things home with you?" Toni suggested. "I'd love to see you, and maybe we could visit for a while." Then, not wanting to have it work out that Kyle could just happen to be there, she quickly added, "I'm not sure when I could stop by, but we could work something out later."

Toni could almost see the defeat that must have been revealed in Madeline's face. It was sure evident in her voice. "Oh," she sighed. "I guess that would be all right. Do you still have my phone number?"

"Yes." Toni smiled. "I do. And, Madeline, you can tell that boss of yours that he's got a very loyal housekeeper. I just hope he appreciates you." Kyle wouldn't like that at all.

The chuckle that met Toni's ear held relief. "I told him I didn't think I could pull it off. But you know how insistent he can be." Madeline's tone grew serious. "He's trying so hard to pretend that he doesn't miss you. Ever since he's been back in town, he's seemed so miserable."

She didn't need to hear things like this. But that didn't stop her from listening to what was being offered. Toni didn't want Kyle to be miserable. Any more than she wanted to be that way herself. She just wanted to forget. . . .

The kindly woman's voice intruded. "You did know that he'd been gone, didn't you?"

Toni had known. He'd been in Denver and then in New York. She'd felt safe during those weeks, knowing that he was away, terribly threatened now that he had returned.

"Yes," she answered quietly. "And thanks for calling, Madeline."

With a deliberately controlled effort, she hung up and turned back to her work. It was harder than ever to concentrate now.

That phone call had been disturbing enough. But Toni didn't suffer any major setbacks until the next day.

❧

She was sitting at her desk straightening the stacks of files and computer printouts threatening to overtake it before her last appointment showed up.' Her meeting was with a prospective new client. A Mr. Dentworth who, her secretary had told her, had been referred by Dr. Greg Nichols.

Her task somewhat accomplished, she smoothed the front of her mauve and gray herringbone skirt, flicked a speck of lint from the lapel of her dark gray jacket and touched her fingers to the high jabot of her pearl gray blouse to make sure the knot was straight. Her hair, in its usual chignon, gleamed with polished highlights, and her regime of exercise had given a healthy glow to a complexion that had been verging toward pale. She knew she would present a picture of absolute professionalism and confidence. It was important to do that, especially with a new client. After all, the man was going to trust her with something that meant a lot to him. His money.

The expected knock came from the other side of her door.

Pushing the one remaining file to the side, she prepared a businesslike smile of greeting. "Come in," she answered crisply, and stood up.

She sat right back down.

A sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a moan preceded words that could only be described as strangled. "What are you doing here?"

Kyle closed the door, shutting out the noise of the telephones ringing in the large outer office so he could be heard. "I have an appointment."

His voice exuded all the self-assurance of his bearing. Everything, from the almost arrogant tilt of his head to the flawless cut of the pinstriped suit, emphasizing the muscular frame beneath it, indicated a man very much in control of himself, and the situation.

Toni wasn't feeling anywhere near that confident.

She did her best to pretend otherwise, though, as he moved toward her desk.

"You obviously used a phony name to get in here," she accused, hiding the defensiveness in her tone with what she hoped was calm indifference. Indifference? She could never feel that way toward him. He looked wonderful. And, God, how she'd missed him! "And I don't appreciate it."

There was a trace of his old, teasing smile threatening at the corners of his cool gray eyes. "It's not a phony name," he replied, coming around the corner of her desk. He leaned against it, crossing his legs at the ankles and leaning back slightly on his palms. "It's my mother's."

She couldn't remember if she'd ever known that. Not that it mattered. What mattered wus that in one lousy second, he'd managed to undo what had taken her weeks to accomplish. Not one of those silent, determined peptalks about how she was finally getting over him held a modicum of conviction.

"I'm sure you didn't come here to discuss your mother." She slanted him an exacting glance. "And any other subject you had in mind would be a waste of time. Since I obviously don't have an appointment right now, you'll excuse me while I get on with something else." With a defiance she didn't feel, she reached for the file he was nearly sitting on.

His hand came down on top of hers, his touch so hot that it felt like her hand was melting into the wood beneath it. He kept it there, pressing his down more firmly when she tried to pull away.

"You have an appointment with me," he responded with equanimity. "And your secretary said you don't have any others for the rest of the day."

"Why would she tell you that?" She was trying not to think about the heat of his hand, the determination in his eyes, and her thought was verbalized before she realized it.

"Because I asked her."

Kyle was used to getting his way. In fact, he insisted on it. His response was typical of that expectation.

Seeing the consternation flick through her guarded blue eyes, he added, "Don't worry. She was quite protective of you. She only told me after I mentioned that we might have to go look at a piece of property after our meeting and I asked if you'd be available."

A moment ago, her composure had been hanging by a thread. Now it was being reinforced by a surge of welcomed anger. With one swift movement, she freed her hand and rolled her chair back. Then, skirting the opposite side of her desk, she turned sharply to face him.

"Listen, Donovan," she said, seething quietly. "I don't know what you want. And I don't care to know. But I won't have you manipulating my staff with lies. You've been here long enough already and I want you to leave. Now!"

Kyle didn't look the least bit affected by either her proclamation, or the challenge in her stance.

Taking his time, he pushed himself from the desk and absently adjusted the crisp white cuff of his shirt to the proper half-inch below his dark jacket sleeve as he followed the path she had just taken.

If he was leaving, he was going the wrong way.

Toni had taken a defensive step back when he stopped in front of her—only to find further progress impeded by one of the white leather guest chairs. She couldn't move to the side either. The bookcase was there.

"I haven't told any lies," he said calmly. "There is a piece of property. I want to take you there."

His eyes held her, pinning her to her spot on the green carpet so effectively that she couldn't have moved if she'd wanted to. And she did want to. Otherwise, she might find herself giving in to the urge to touch the face that still haunted her dreams. He was so close that she could smell the faint, spicy scent of his cologne, and that brought a rush of response shuddering through the longing in her body.

"What property?" she managed, fighting an odd ambivalence that wanted nothing more than to go with him. Nothing less than for him to go away.

He curved his fingers over her shoulders, one hand moving up to lay against the side of her neck. He must have felt her stiffen, because the weight of his hands increased as he slid his thumb along the line of her jaw. "My house." His thumb stroked her bottom lip. "I want you to come home."

Home. He made it sound like she belonged there.

She closed her eyes and tried to turn her head away when a painful whimper snagged in her throat.

Kyle caught that anguished lament with his kiss.

Toni knew she should pull back, do something to protect herself from what could only lead to more pain. His arms were tightening around her back, pressing her slender curves to the familiar contours of his harder ones, and his lips were softly demanding. She couldn't seem to do a thing to stop him.

Her heart and her mind were locked in a battle her body ignored. Parting her lips beneath his gentle insistence, she arched against him.

"I knew it," he breathed in quiet triumph. "I knew you wouldn't be able to forget." He captured her mouth again, claiming what was so undeniably his.

Toni's mind refused to function. She couldn't think of all the reasons why he was so wrong for her when all she wanted to do was lose herself in his solid strength. She loved him. She always had. And probably, God help her, always would.

The pressure of his arms relaxed, and she felt the smooth-rough touch of his fingers tilting her chin up when he raised his head to look down at her. His other arm held her firmly, offering the support her weakened legs could not.

His eyes searched her face, narrowing at the confusion of emotions revealed there. She was rapidly replacing desire and need—and something that looked suspiciously like the love he had seen there so often before—with a determined mask of resolve.

He couldn't let that happen.

"I've missed you, princess." His tone was soothing, and he trailed his fingers down her throat to slide them beneath her jacket. Her heart felt like it was doing double-time. So did his. "I miss waking up next to you in the morning. Feeling your breasts grow hard in my hands."

To emphasize his disconcerting words, his hand folded over one expectedly taut breast. Even through her blouse, he could feel her responding to his touch. He pulled her closer to prevent her from moving. "I miss talking with you," he continued, watching the struggle going on in her mind reveal itself in her eyes. "And all you have to do is tell me that you don't love me, and I'll leave you alone."

In less than a second, he felt her go limp, then absolutely rigid. Knowing that he had just played his trump card, he slowly pulled back and watched her grab for the arm of the chair.

He'd negotiated some pretty risky deals in his time, but never had any of them come close to meaning what this one did.

Toni drew a steadying breath. Then, another. She was too stunned to speak. Not that her mind was providing anything to say at the moment.

Her hesitation, and the fact that he could read nothing in her expression other than shock, forced Kyle to prompt a response.

"Look at me, Toni. Look at me and tell me that you don't love me." He knew how arrogant that must sound. But that arrogance had always allowed him to get what he wanted in the past. Almost everything he wanted anyway. "Then, I want you to tell me that you really don't want to live with me."

Live with me. Not "marry me."

"Damn you, Donovan." She whirled toward him, her mind functioning at full capacity now. "Damn you!"

His surprise at her vehemence vanished with the slow blink of his lashes. "That's not an answer," he reminded evenly.

"Well, you're not going to get one!" As much as she wanted to deny her feelings, she simply couldn't. But there was no way he was going to walk out the door with her pride in his pocket. "You're willing to take, but you're not willing to give anything back! No, Kyle, I don't want to live with you!"

The complacency in his expression faltered.

In his cool gray eyes, she could see a question forming.

"The reason you don't want to live with me wouldn't be because you're living with Greg, would it?"

Kyle hadn't even thought of that possibility until now. Sure, she'd run to Greg when she'd left Kyle, but. . . He left his thought unfinished when he saw the sparks of fury forming in her eyes. Toni wasn't that kind of a woman, and he was already delivering a scathing recrimination to himself for asking such a stupid question when he heard her barely controlled response.

"Where I'm living is none of your business!" She couldn't quite believe that this was happening. How could two people who had shared so much turn on each other like this? "Now, get out of here before I . . ."

She was saved the trouble of coming up with a viable threat when her door creaked open. A pair of bespectacled eyes darted from an obviously agitated Toni to a very attractive and quite composed Kyle.

"I don't mean to interrupt, but is everything all right in here?" Theresa, Toni's secretary, looked a little uncomfortable as she glanced back at her boss.

Apparently Toni's voice had been heard in the outer office. Toni didn't know whether to shrug it off or feel mortified. She never lost her temper —with anyone but Kyle.

"Everything will be fine in a minute." Her assurance was delivered in a tone considerably more subdued than it had been seconds before. "Mr. Donovan was just leaving."

"Donovan? I thought he said his name was Dentworth."

"His name's Donovan." Toni focused firmly on Kyle's maddeningly nonplused expression, not taking her eyes from his, even though her words were for her secretary. "And if you ever see him in this office again, call security."

Theresa showed an admirable amount of professional aplomb by acknowledging Toni with a calm, "Yes, ma'am," and swinging the door wide. She stood back, waiting for the about-to-be-evicted Mr. Donovan to pass.

Kyle ignored the woman long enough to deliver one parting remark. He sounded just as unperturbed as he looked. "You still haven't denied it, Ms. Collins. And I suggest you remember what I said. I've offered you a deal and you'd be well advised to consider it."

With that, he turned one of his debilitatingly sexy grins on her secretary. Touching his finger to the dark hair falling casually over his forehead, he gave a wide-eyed Theresa a smart little salute and walked out the door.

Toni sank into the chair in front of her desk. She was shaking—with rage, she told herself. Kyle had just made it sound like they'd been having a business discussion! And Theresa probably thought that her boss had just gone off the deep end by yelling at a client!

"Are you ok, Toni?"

Theresa was still hovering in the doorway, no doubt being eaten alive with curiosity. The only thing Toni could think to say that would keep office tongues from wagging also happened to be the truth. "He works for the competition, Theresa," she said, smoothing her skirt as she stood. "And you know how dirty the competition can play. Would you bring me a cup of coffee . . . and the Ellsworth portfolio?" And that, she hoped, was the end of that.