Sandra's Classics - The Bad Boys of Romance - Boxed Set (16 page)

She shook her head and laid her fingers lightly across his mouth.

‘I do,’ she said quickly, lying for him, for her, for how many days they had left together. ‘I know we have no future."

'Jessie—'

'I could no more live in your world than you could live in mine.’

He caught her hand in both of his. ‘Do you mean that?’ he demanded.

‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘Of course. This is all—it's just a dream. Fun.'

'Fun,' he said flatly.

She nodded. 'It's wonderful, but…'

Her softly spoken words were drowned out by a
sudden roaring noise that made the walls tremble.

Jessica’s eyes widened with fright. ‘What was that?’

Chad stared at her and then he took a deep breath. ‘It’s a helicopter,’ he said tonelessly. ‘They’ve found us.’

This was the moment
she'd longed for…

Then, wh
ere was the jubilation? Where was the sense of relief? Why was she suddenly blinking back tears?

Chad’s hands tightened on hers. ‘Jessie,’ he said thickly, ‘Jessie
...’

There was a tightness in her throat. She wanted to tell him she
loved him, that she couldn't imagine living without him…

Instead, she forced a smile
, pulled her hand free of his and fought to keep her tears from spilling down her cheeks.

‘Damn it,’
he said, ‘Damn it, Jess…'

He pulled her to him and kissed her
. She tasted tears. His? Hers? It didn't matter.

All that mattered was watching him stride to the door and fling it open
, as the helicopter settled down slowly on Main Street.

Forty
stories above Manhattan’s streets, the sounds of traffic are barely audible.

The snarling cars and trucks below, the hurrying pedestrians, all seem to be per
formers in some great pantomime.

On a day in October, a day of bright leaves and warm sun, Jessica Howard pressed her forehead against her office window and stared down at the street.

Plane trees still festooned with clutches of golden autumn leaves fought bravely against the grey efficiency of the city.

Jessica sighed
.

It would be so nice to be able to open the window, she thought wistfully, so nice to smell the trees and the Indian summer air instead of the machine cooled and filtered stuff pumping through ventilating louvers in the ceiling.

It was ridiculous to seal windows this way. Chad would have said...

She turned away abruptly and walked across her tiny office. Ten o’clock, she thought, glancing at her w
atch, and she hadn’t done a thing about the report on her desk even though she had a meeting with a client in less than two hours.

As for the window… even if
it could be opened, there wouldn’t be much to smell besides automobile exhaust fumes. That was one of the things Chad had said about New York...

Damn! She stopped in mid-stride and frowned. What had she done with the survey results that went with the report? Buried them in the filing cabinet, most probably, because there wasn’t a drawer or a cubby-hole in the desk, or what Allen Associates insisted on calling a desk.

Actually, it was a glass and chrome table. Chad would have laughed at the idea of passing off something with no drawers as a desk, just as he’d have laughed at calling this oversized cupboard an office...

‘For goodness’ sake,’ Jessica said loudly, sl
amming the top drawer of the filing cabinet closed.

What on earth was the matter with her? Chad O’Bryan was a two- week-old memory, yet his shadow seemed to be lurking everywhere today.

Maybe it had been a mistake to cut through Central Park on her way to work this morning. It had seemed like a fine idea on such a marvelous day, but the trees and the grass and the sun sparkling on the boat lake had all conspired to make her think of him— not that there was anything unique about that, she thought unhappily.

She thought about him in the empty silence of her apartment, and in the dark hou
rs of the night and...

Jessica tossed the
file on her desk and slid into her chair. But she didn’t think about him here. That was the only good thing about her promotion—her ‘welcome-home present’, her boss had called it.

She disliked her new job, but there was so much to learn and-to do that it kept her mindlessly occupied from morning until night. And that was precisely what she’d needed, from her very first day back at work.

‘I’m taking you to lunch, Jessica,’ Jack Allen had announced, snatching her away from all the office well- wishers. ‘We have things to talk about.’

Was he going to fire her? she’d wondered, grabbing her jacket. Everybody had told her the girl
who'd replaced her for the past two weeks hadn’t done her job well, but you could never tell.

‘Is. there a problem,
Mr. Allen?’

‘Call me Jack,’ he
'd said, hurrying her along Third Avenue. ‘This great little Mexican place opened while you were gone, Jessica. Everybody goes there—wait until you see how authentic it is.’

He wasn’t going to fire her, she thought, breathing a sigh of relief. Not over tostadas and guacamole, anyway.

They'd settled in at a wood-patterned plastic table and given their orders to a waitress wearing a serape that clashed with her Brooklyn accent.

Jack Allen pushed aside the bottle of ketchup that adorned the
center of the table and smiled at her. So much for authenticity, she thought, returning his smile. Chad would have got a kick out of this place...

‘So, Jessica, how are you feeling? You look a little, I don’t know, pale or something.’

‘No,’ she said brightly, ‘I’m fine. I guess I lost a little weight, that’s all.’

He
r boss smiled and leaned back in the rattan and brass chair. ‘I’ve got a welcome home present for you, babe.’

‘Well, that’s nice,’ she said slowly, hoping it would be a raise in salary and not a left-over bottle of cologne from Allen Associates’ Christmas gifts to junior female employees. ‘Thank you.’

‘My phone’s been ringing all morning. Clients keep calling and asking about you. You’re quite a celebrity.’

Jessica smiled uncomfortably. ‘By next week, nobody will remember my name.’

‘You let me worry about that,’ Allen said, folding his hands on his paunch. ‘You know, people love to deal with celebrities.’ A broad smile lit his face. ‘So I’ve decided to make you an assistant account executive.’

She stared at him in astonishment. ‘A what?’

‘Surprised, right? I know you don’t have any experience with clients, but you’re a bright girl. You can work with Paul or Sheryl or whoever needs you, and once you learn the ropes ...’

‘
Mr. Allen, it’s not that I’m ungrateful, but... I don’t know the first thing about that end of advertising.’

‘Nobody does, when they start out. You’ll learn
.'

‘Yes, but, you see, I really want to—the thing is, I’ve been studying photography for a couple of years and— well—as a matter of fact, I took some pictures in those mountains that look pretty good
...’

‘
Pictures of what? A mountain? What kind of mileage could we get from that? Besides, I already have a photographer.’

‘But...’

‘Listen; if it makes you happy, go show your pictures to him. Tell Hans I said to see if we can use one or two for background.’ He smiled winningly. ‘Meanwhile, we’ll move you into your own office and raise your salary five hundred buck a month. How’s that sound?’

It had sounded like something her bank account couldn’t afford to pass up
, so she’d moved into this oversized cupboard and dropped her pictures off at Hans’ studio the same day.

‘
Mr. Allen said ...’

‘Right. He told me. I’ll take a look.’

‘I ... I think some of them might be ...’

‘I’ll let you know,’ he’d said firmly, and that had been the last she’d heard from the man.

Jessica opened the file and glanced unseeingly at the survey results she needed for the upcoming meeting.

Well, what had she expected Hans to say, after all? Her photos were good, not terrific. It was just that the raw beauty of the mountains had come through in almost every shot, even though she hadn’t used special lenses or filters.

There were a couple of pictures of Chad on the trail and beside the fire that were exceptional. She’d somehow managed to capture his strength and honesty and...

God, she felt restless. If only she could slip away for an hour or so. The Zoo would be beautiful today.
Despite what Chad had said, she still liked going there, if only to visit what she thought of as her wolves.

Autumn was the best time
, too.

Jessica glanced
at the window.

Despite the calendar, it would be winter in Coleman's Creek by now.

The little cabin on Main Street was probably window deep in snow.

  If s
he closed her eyes, she could see the flames dancing in the fireplace and remember how they warmed the room and kept the cold at bay…

Not that
she’d needed any warmth other than Chad’s arms and mouth....

‘Stop it,’ she whispered, closing her eyes and putting her hands to her
temples.

If she let the memory of him into her office, she was lost.

It was over: why couldn’t she accept
that? She’d gone on to a new job and he—for all she knew, he was in Alaska. After all, their return to civilization had made instant celebrities of them both.

Maybe he’d got the grant he’d wanted so badly.
Maybe...

What did it matter? Their love affair had ended that last day in Coleman’s Creek.

They’d made the flight to Cheyenne in silence.

You couldn’t talk over the noise of the engine and the whirling rotors, which was just as well because they’d said all there was to say in the cabin.

She remembered staring blindly out the window, for once in her life unafraid and damned near unaware of the fact that she was flying, praying that the euphoria of their rescue would replace the pain within her.

Two deputy sheriffs had been waiting for them
. Separate cars whisked them to a hospital where doctors poked and prodded until everybody was satisfied that they were in good health.

Jessica had phoned her parents in Ohio, assuring them that she was fine, which they found slightly bewildering because they had only just returned from vacation and had no idea she'd been the subject of a search.

By the time she saw Chad in the hospital corridor again, word of their rescue had got out and they were surrounded by local television and newspaper reporters.

And there was somebody there from Wind River Charters who insisted Chad had to go with him to the airport and file reports with the company and with the Federal Aeronautics Administration.

‘Jessie
...’ he’d said. ‘Jessie, we’ll talk when I get back.’

She’d smiled and nodded
.

‘Sure,’ she’d said, knowing it was a lie, knowing they had nothing left to say.

Salvation lay in getting back to her job, her city, her apartment—the sooner she got back to her world, the sooner she’d get rid of the heaviness that had settled just under her heart.

As soon as the door closed after him, she turned to one of the nurses.

‘When is the next flight to New York?’ she'd asked in an urgent tone. ‘Could you find out for me, please?’

As luck would have it, she’d had to wait four long hours for the next flight.

At first, she flinched each time she heard footsteps, certain it was Chad, hoping it wouldn’t be and wishing it would, but he didn’t return.

Not that she was surprised. It must have occurred to him, too, that a clean break was best.

And that had been the last she’d heard from him, not that any of the office gossips believed it.

'
Planning a reunion with that guy, Jessica?’ the receptionist had teased. ‘After all, you must have got to know each other pretty well, huh?’

The questions grew more specific after two of the local tabloids picked up pictures of her and Chad from the Cheyenne papers.

‘Wow,' one of her female clients had said, 'you never told me the guy was so good-looking!’

I never told you anything, Jessica had thought sadly. I never told you how funny he was or how strong or how much I miss the sound of his voice or the touch of his hand
.

The awful truth was, their love affair had ended. But that had nothing to do with the end of love…

‘Hello? Jessica, are you there?’

Somebody was hammering on the closed door to her office.

Quickly, Jessica rubbed her hands across her eyes. ‘Yes,’ she called, ‘come in, please.’

The door swung open and Hans peered into the room. ‘My God, it’s barely big enough for a midget,’ he said glumly. ‘Is there
space for both of us?’

‘Only if we don’t both inhale at the same time,’ she said. ‘How are you, Hans? This is an unexpected pleasure.’ She waved her hand at the low-slung chrome and leather chair facing her desk. ‘It’s more comfortable than it looks,’ she said with a quick smile.

The photographer eased his gangly frame into the chair and shifted nervously. ‘I never liked these damned things,’ he said. ‘I’m always afraid they’re going to attack and swallow me whole.’ He looked around the room. ‘My supply cupboard is bigger than this, Jessica. Are you sure you got a promotion? Maybe the agency’s doing a test on claustrophobia.’

Jessica laughed. ‘How have you been, Hans? Is my replacement working out?’

‘Who knows? She’s always leaving shoots a few minutes early so she can run across town and try to sell her sketches to somebody or other. Seems she’s a frustrated dress designer. She’s not like you were, Jessica. You kept your mind on business.’

‘That’s the first compliment you ever gave me,’ Jessica answered with a quick grin.

‘Don’t let it go to your head,’ Hans said, but he smiled. He cleared his throat, and then he cleared it again. 'About those pictures you left with me…'

Jessica sighed.
She'd told herself she wouldn't be disappointed if Hans didn't like them but she could feel a tug of sadness just the same.

'No good, huh?'

He leaned forward and dropped a piece of paper on her desk.

"You're right. They aren't good.'

She winced. ‘Well, thanks for being hon—'