A MAN CALLED BLUE (11 page)

Simone remained silent, waiting for Blue to finish.

"What I thought was, he was nuts. No way was I going to hang out with a gay guy. No way, at all. I stayed clear of Nolan—and his mother, for the rest of the school year."

He looked away briefly. "I've never been proud of that. Anyway, it might have ended there if Nolan and I hadn't been enrolled in the same junior mariner training program that summer. We were both boat crazy. Anyway, the abridged version is I fell overboard during rough—
make that very rough—
weather, and Nole, the idiot, jumped in and pulled me out. The next day when I went to thank him, he gave me a look that would scald chrome and told me to get stuffed. He said a few other things, too."

Simone laughed softly. "I'll bet. Nolan can be forthright."

"When I said I owed him, he said I owed him zilch, that he was planning to take a swim anyway, and I just happened to be there polluting the ocean, so he heaved me out. Said he was afraid I'd give some nice shark the cramps."

"Ouch!"

"Yeah, ouch," Blue agreed, his expression sardonic. "So we talked. I'd missed the crazy ass, but of course couldn't manage to spit the words out. As for Nole, he said it was too damn bad he wasn't 'man enough' to be my friend, but he'd spent enough time trying to be something he wasn't, and he wasn't going to do it anymore, not for me, not for anyone. After his I-am-what-I-am speech, I understood better what he'd been going through." His face took on an unreadable expression.

She waited.

Blue went on, "The fact is we were never
as close
as we'd been as kids, but given our differences, I suppose that was unavoidable. But we came to understand each other better and accept each other's choices." He lifted a shoulder and dropped it. "As friendships go, it's still as good or better than most."

Lapsing into silence, he poured the last of the coffee.

Simone thoughtfully stroked the stem of her empty wineglass. "You gave it value, like your father said," she mused, thinking she would have liked Blue's father.

His smile turned soft, enticing, his voice deepened as he smoothly changed the subject. "I'd have valued it even more if I'd known it was going to lead me to a hot-looking CEO with killer gray eyes." His own eyes glinted in the pale lamplight.

Even as she chided herself for being too vulnerable to the old standbys of soft music, a quiet dinner, and intimate surroundings, his words warmed her. At this moment in time, she wanted to savor his appreciation, not spurn it. She knew the risks, but couldn't help herself anymore than a spring bulb could stop itself from reaching for the sun.

So she smiled, deeply and fully, for the first time in too long to remember. She felt her lips curve to accent her mouth, her cheeks lift, and the skin soften around her eyes. She felt a gentle heat warm her chest. Good. It felt good.

"You shouldn't be saying things like that," she said, but knew her words lacked conviction, knew her voice wasn't much above a throaty whisper.

He nodded, his eyes seemingly transfixed by her mouth. She heard him draw a long breath, watched him briefly close his eyes. "You're right, I shouldn't. What I should do is go about my business and let you go about yours. Right?"

It was her turn to nod. He was right. That's exactly how it should be.

Abruptly, Blue stood, turned, and looked down at her. He looked perplexed, angry. "Then why don't I? Why do I keep trying to get under your skin? And into your bed. We're two of the most mismatched people on the face of the earth."

This time Simone drew a breath, and with it a trace of sanity. "Right again."

"You're everything I don't want in a woman—career-obsessed, bossy, spoiled." He took a step away, then back again.
"And
you're too damned rich for your own good," he accused.

Simone began to take a delicious pleasure in his confusion. "Nobody's that rich," she said, deliberately goading him.

"Add to that you've got a tongue with rasp enough to debarnacle the hull on the
Queen Mary,"
he said flatly.

She leaped to her feet. "I do not! You know nothing about me—or for that matter, how damned rasping my tongue can be!"

At that he grinned, the smile coming as quickly as his brief show of temper, a smile that turned wicked when his gaze dropped to her mouth. "Exactly—but I sure as hell want to find out."

She glared at him across the three feet that separated them. Three feet. It wasn't enough.

It was too much.

Blue reached for her and pulled her close. If he didn't kiss this woman—and soon—he'd go crazy. He held her by the wrists, grasping them high near his shoulders. He looked into her eyes, seeking a sign, a trace of desire, and saw only shock, mixed with female outrage at his caveman behavior, but still he held her, bringing her arms and his down to rest at their sides. They faced each other now, both breathing hard, unevenly.

"Kiss me," he urged, his voice low, impatient.

She lifted her eyes. He wanted them to shine into his, pour into his. He wanted to see passion, desire; what he saw was indecision, a trace of fear. What he heard was a soft grumble, half regret, half resignation.

"I shouldn't do this," she whispered, more to herself than to him, then, snaking her arms around his neck, she pulled his head down and touched her mouth to his so softly, so tentatively, he thought for a moment he'd imagined it. He closed his eyes and went still. It wasn't exactly the kind of kiss he had in mind, but it held promise, and God, did she feel good in his arms! The way he read it, the rest was up to him.

He pulled her close, wanting, then reveling in the feel of her breasts crushed against him. He tested the loose seal of her lips, running his tongue along it, licking, tasting until his sex hardened and ached. He heard his own groan when she leaned into him and opened her mouth. A sexual mist gathered in his head as the scent of exotic perfume and erotic woman merged to swirl around him. Her mouth was warm, her tongue a natural mate to his, and her head, now held in his hands as he positioned her to deepen the kiss, total perfection. He wanted more. He wanted all of her, but she wrested herself from his arms.

He stared mutely as she stumbled back from him. Her hand, now a fist, pressed against her lips. She looked stunned—and scared.

Ignoring the pounding in his loins, Blue followed her lead, taking a step back. When, and if, he ever breathed normally again, he'd speak.

"That was a mistake. I'm sorry," she said.

"Say anything, Tiger, be anything, but for God's sake, don't be sorry. You're like no one I've ever—"

She raised a hand to silence him and shook her head."Don't. Don't say anymore. There's too much you don't understand about me. About Anjana." She walked away a few steps and turned to face him, "It's complicated. I've made promises. To myself and others. Promises I intend to keep."

She stopped as suddenly as she began, staring at him as if unsure about the path ahead, how much to say, how much not to say. For a moment neither of them spoke.

Blue struggled to make the switch from turned on to tuned in with no transitional segue. He ran a hand roughly through his hair and caught her gaze, holding it with his. "So tell me about these promises." He reached over and lifted her chin with his knuckle. "And please don't tell me you've pledged not to have sex until you're forty?"

She pulled her head away sharply. "This isn't a joke."

"Okay, then fill me in. What promise precludes two consenting adults from doing what consenting adults have been doing since the galaxy spit planet Earth into this universe."

Her lower lip trembled slightly.
Damn!
It made his insides the consistency of eroding rubber. He wished he was one of those new improved males who knew exactly what to do at times like this, but he wasn't. All he could do was wait.

"I was married once. Did you know that?" she finally said.

He nodded. "Nolan mentioned it. What happened?"

She stared past him a moment, then stiffened. "He left." The words were bullets, hard and uncompromising. Her mouth tensed. "Josephine said I should have expected it, but I didn't. I was young, rebellious, and determined to prove her wrong. I've worked hard these past few years, but nowhere near as hard as I worked at my marriage. It lasted two years." She stopped, shaking her head over old memories. "Then he walked out."

"Why?"

Simone stared at him, and amidst the rubble of emotions left by his kiss, considered her options.

She never talked about Harper. Never. It was too humiliating, too unresolved in her own mind. She turned from Blue's gaze. Hadn't her marriage proved Josephine's opinion that there wasn't a man alive worth more than an hourly rate? And hadn't it disproved her own childish belief that if you gave enough, loved long and hard enough, a man could be your truest ally, deepest friend, and passionate, lifelong lover. Hadn't it?

Blue rested his hands gently on her shoulders and turned her to face him. "Talk to me," he said, his expression calm and curious. "Why didn't it work?"

She shook off his hands and steeled herself. He should know. She should make him understand. Then, maybe, he'd leave her alone."He said loving me took too much effort, that I expected too much." She smiled ruefully. "He said my love was like a creeping vine choking off his light."

Blue tilted his head, registering disbelief. "Poetic bastard, wasn't he?"

"He was right. I was twenty when we married and so starved for love, I would have done anything for him—for us. All I wanted was to be with him, so I quit Yale and dedicated myself to being the perfect wife." She compressed her lips briefly. "Not that I had any idea what that entailed, growing up with Josephine, but I was desperate to make the marriage work. Lord, I was so cloying it was disgusting—even to me. It started to affect Harper's work. He was eighteen years older, at the height of his career."

"What did he do?"

"He was a lawyer, or tried to be when he wasn't fending off my assault from the home front. I resented the time he gave to his work and said so. I wanted him to give it up. Certainly money wasn't a problem I had enough for both of us. I saw no point to his working. I thought we should... be together." Simone loathed the neediness that drove her then, hated to think of it still crouching within her, a waiting beast, caged and ravenous.

She paced a couple of steps. "Then one night, he didn't come home." She inhaled deep, besieged by the memory of that night, the deep cut of another desertion. "And the next day I got the divorce papers. I never saw him again."

"No warning? Nothing?" Blue's eyes were quiet, thoughtful.

Her laugh was brittle. "Probably about a thousand of them. All of which I ignored or refused to see." She went to the window and sat on the edge of the padded window seat. "I talked to him once on the telephone much later. He said he was sorry it didn't work out, but he couldn't give me what I needed. I suppose it was as close to the truth as he could get without bludgeoning me with my mistakes."

Blue took the few steps to where she sat and leaned against the windowsill. "And where was your moth—Josephine, when all this was going on?"

"Waiting for me to come back." She worked at being still, at not clasping and unclasping her hands. "I knew she wouldn't approve of my leaving school, or marrying Harper, so I didn't tell her until after the wedding. I called her at the Anjana head office. I told her what I'd done and—" Simone swallowed and stopped.

"And?" he prodded, his voice softly compelling.

"She told me not to call her again until the marriage ended. She'd be waiting and so would Anjana."

"Sh—!" Blue rubbed at the back of his neck, his expression a mix of distaste and shock. "Sorry."

Simone didn't know what he was sorry for, his cursing or Josephine's lack of maternal concern for a daughter's wellbeing. Either way it didn't matter.

She straightened and stood to face him.

"When the marriage ended, I called. We hadn't talked to each other in over two years." Simone gripped the edge of the window seat. "We
did
lunch. I wanted my life back, and Josephine gave it to me. I planned to finish Yale and work at Anjana. She encouraged me to do both. When I graduated and was ready to start, I promised her—and myself—Anjana would always come first. Neither of us is willing to risk it becoming a pawn in some messy divorce or palimony case. I'm a quick study, like Josephine I believed Anjana would be there for me long after the Harpers of the world had gone. I still believe it." She gave him a direct gaze, only her heart faltered. "I'm not looking for complications, Blue."

"And that's what I am?"

"You could be—if I let you." She looked at her watch. Almost midnight. "It's late." She stood to go, feeling drained and exposed. She didn't know what he thought of her and hated the idea she cared.

He ignored her. "And has this Anjana obsession worked?"

She waved a hand around the luxurious room, striving for a light casual tone. "What do you think? I have everything I want."

He followed her hand, then gave her an impatient look. "That's not what I mean and you know it. I kissed you, remember? That's warm blood you've got running in those veins. It can't be easy sacrificing that passion on the altar of commerce. Or do you have an answer for that, too?"