Lonely Millionaire (9 page)

"Only until we finish this project. Then he's on his own. In the meantime, I'm on call, twenty-four hours a day.'' It was the least he could do. Jack had done a lot for him, even saved his life one frozen Arctic night in a whiteout. Jack had dragged him home in the snow when he'd lost consciousness. This was his chance to pay him back. And the way to pay him back was not to steal his girl.

They didn't talk on the way home. In his mind Adam ran through the reasons to leave Mandy alone and planned his conversation with Jack. When they arrived at the bed and breakfast, he excused himself to make the call from his room after Mandy thanked him for dinner. He chose to ignore the hurt look in her eyes as he pretended to forget the invitation for coffee. This was no time for late-night togetherness.

"She can't. She's got a business to run. Besides, she's been burned once. You've got to handle her with care. She thinks she's not interested in marriage, but she is."

"If you want my advice, you'll come down here right away. But you've got to handle Mandy with care. She's different. She's vulnerable. Plan to spend some time with her. She's worth it."

"I'd like to come down there, but I can't leave until you get back. Can't you hurry things up? Tell Gene you need to see him right away, get things settled about your future and come back to relieve me just temporarily.''

"I'd like to, but Gene's busy until next week. Just hold tight. And don't do anything rash."

"Same to you," Jack said, and hung up.

Adam turned the lights out and opened the windows to let the sea air blow in. He stuck his head out the window as if the air would clear his head so he'd know if he was doing the right thing or not. He asked himself how things had gotten so complicated. All he'd wanted to do was help Jack find a wife. He deserved one. Someone special. But did he deserve Mandy?

He might have said no if he hadn't seen the look on her face when she talked about Jack, the way she'd looked when she'd gotten his letter. Would Mandy mind when she found out Jack wasn't a millionaire? Probably not. Jack was a nice guy with or without money. He'd realize that Mandy needed to be cultivated, like a bruised flower bulb. A flower that could bloom with the right amount of TLC, water and sunshine. All she needed was someone to love her and she'd open up like a rosebud in the warm summer air. The image he conjured up tore into him like a serrated knife. What right did Jack have to be the one to teach Mandy to love again?

Adam lay back on the bed and crossed his arms under his head. He reminded himself that Jack had every right to Mandy. He was the one who had advertised and Mandy had answered his ad. Whatever happened, she couldn't, mustn't, get hurt again. The next man she fell in love with had to come through for her. It had to be someone who had no reservations about making a commitment. In other words, it had to be Jack.

Adam jumped up from the bed and paced around the room, studied the paintings on the wall, seascapes all of them, then chose several books from the shelves and looked them over without seeing them. Maybe he should leave right now. He'd done what he came to do and his job was finished. What was the point in staying around, torturing himself? Because it was torture to be so close to her and know he couldn't have her.

He couldn't have anybody. He didn't want anybody. He wanted just what he had always said he wanted. Adventure, danger and excitement. He did not want a woman to mess up his life again. If he thought he wanted Mandy, he was mistaken. He had to admit she'd thrown him off balance, but that was because he'd been in the Yukon too long doing the same job with the same partner. It was time to move on. As soon as he did, everything would be fine. He wouldn't feel restless, anxious, on edge, or suffer from insomnia.

He stared out the window until the first rays of the sun lit the ocean below, then he went downstairs and made himself a cup of coffee in Mandy's kitchen. Then he would go. He would leave her a note. He wouldn't say goodbye.

Because then he might change his mind. He didn't want to see her again, not with her hair in a tangle, her long, bare legs in shorts, especially not in her hand-knit, rose-covered sweater. He didn't want to see her in anything at all. He would check in at some motel in Menlo Park and wait for Gene to show up, get his assignment, then relieve Jack so he could come down here before Adam reported to the drilling rig-

The phone rang. He let it ring twice, then he picked it up. Who would call at six in the morning? It was a travel agent in from New York wanting to book both rooms for that night for some clients. Adam went to the desk in the living room and found Mandy's calendar. There were no reservations for that night or any night. Adam said okay. The agent wanted to know if the guests could have dinner there. They'd be arriving late and didn't want to go out again. Could someone pick them up at the airport?

Adam said yes and yes. Mandy needed the business. But she would need help to handle it. She didn't do dinners, so he would have to help her. It was the least he could do before he left for good, to help her get her business off the ground. Maybe the same agent would send other people. It could be the beginning.

The beginning for Mandy. The end for him. It would be a way of bowing out gracefully, with a clear conscience. More polite than leaving a note and driving off into the sunrise, anyway. He wanted her to remember him fondly if at all. Maybe she and Jack would talk about him from time to time, when they reminisced about how they met. He frowned at the calendar as he wrote down the names of the guests and their flight number. He would be on his rig and Mandy and Jack would be having coffee on the patio in the afternoons as the sun slowly sank into the ocean

He heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs and whispers from the landing. Looking up, he saw Ben and Jane, last night's guests, coming down the stairs on tiptoe, arm in arm, pausing to exchange a soul-searching kiss, then continuing down a few more steps. They looked surprised to see Adam, gave him a check for the night and went out the front door without a backward glance.

Adam walked softly in his stocking feet to Mandy's door and listened. Not a sound. Unlike him, she was sleeping soundly. She wasn't worried about Jack. Why should she? She'd probably fallen asleep with his letter under her pillow, dreaming of him, while Adam had stared at the ceiling all night waiting for dawn. Waiting for another breakfast in bed that would never come.

Maybe it was Mandy's turn to have her breakfast in bed. The only problem was that he didn't do breakfasts. Maybe he ought to try. He'd surprise her. Surprise himself, too, if he could come up with something edible that looked like a breakfast.

Chapter Five

Mandy sat straight up in bed when she heard the knock on her door, clutching the sheet as tightly as possible under her chin. Hear eyes widened in disbelief when the door opened and Adam came in, balancing a tray in one hand.

"Good morning," he said brightly, setting the tray on her nightstand. "Rise and shine." He crossed the room and yanked open the flowered curtains and let the sunshine come flooding into the room.

Mandy blinked, wishing she'd had more warning so she could have combed her hair, brushed her teeth and washed her face. She noted that Adam had probably done all of the above, as well as changing into jeans and a white short-sleeved polo shirt that did nothing to hide his golden tan or his well-developed muscles.

Never mind the muscles or the tan, it was morning, and by the strength of the sun that slanted across her bedspread, it was late and she had to make breakfast for her guests. One of whom had apparently made it for her. She threw the cover back and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. One strap of her pale green lacy nightgown slipped over her shoulder, reminding her that she was hardly dressed for company.

“Good grief, what time must it be?" she croaked, hiking the strap back into place. "I've got to fix breakfast."

"No, you don't. The other guests left and I had my coffee in the kitchen. Of course, if you want to share those croissants I just heated up in your microwave oven..."

Adam sat down on the edge of her bed and gave her a winning smile, allowing his gaze to travel over the lace that partially covered her breasts for just a brief moment before he jerked his gaze back to her face.

"You m-mean,” she stammered, pulling her legs back under the sheet and sinking down onto her pillow.

“I mean, I made your breakfast for you, just so you could see how it feels, maybe give you some ideas."

Ideas? The ideas it gave her made her feel shivery and burning hot at the same time. She could smell the light citrus of his after-shave, and feel the weight of his body against her mattress. If he moved just half an inch toward her, or leaned in her direction, she might be tempted to forget all about breakfast. But he didn't. He stood, lifted the tray from the nightstand, and smiled at her.

"Eat up," he instructed. "You're going to need your strength when you hear the news."

The croissants were still warm and the coffee smelled so wonderful she forgot about her nightgown and sat up again as he placed the tray across her lap. The touch of his fingers against her thighs made her gasp, but he pulled away, apparently unaware of her reaction. She took a large bite of a flaky croissant.

"News?" she inquired, brushing a crumb from the corner of her mouth.

“You've got guests coming tonight. All the way from New York. They called this morning at six o'clock, nine o'clock their time. I said it was okay."

"Okay? It’s wonderful! How many did you say?"

"Four. You'll be full again. I guess that means you'll need my room, too."

Mandy felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. She wasn't ready to see Adam go, even if it meant filling up her inn. "You could stay in Laurie's room, over the garage," she suggested.

He shrugged. "Or the couch. But here's the catch. The two couples are arriving by plane. We have to pick them up and they're staying for dinner."

"I'll be here," he assured her, his hand closing over hers. The touch of his hand warmed hers, the look in his eyes sent ripples of excitement charging through her body. "I'll always be here," he whispered, leaning forward, only the tray and the coffee and the croissant crumbs between them.

All she could see was the firm line of his jaw, the rich, brown velvet of his eyes, and all she wanted was for him to kiss her, just once, as if he meant it. She'd wanted it since the first minute she'd laid eyes on him. Then the words sank in and she realized what he'd said.

"What do you mean?" she demanded. "You won't always be here. You're leaving for the North Sea. How could you forget?"

He shook his head with a dazed look in his dark eyes. "It's your fault," he said, bracing his arms against the headboard and trapping her between than. "When you're around I can't remember who I am or what I'm doing here."

He pushed off the headboard and sprang to his feet by the side of her bed. "But it's all coming back to me now. I'm just passing through. But sometimes I wish..." His voice drifted off and there was such longing in his eyes she sat transfixed, waiting for him to continue, but he didn't. He picked up the tray from her lap and went to stand at the door, a safe distance away. "I wish we had some time for sight-seeing," he finished, "but we'll need to pick up some groceries before the guests come."

"We could do our shopping in the Napa Valley. It would give you a chance to visit a winery, too. Would you like that?"

She thought he'd jump at the chance for an excursion, to spend the day wandering around the valley, sampling wine, but a whole gamut of emotions she didn't understand played across his face. She didn't get it. It wasn't as if she'd suggested driving to Reno for a quickie wedding at the Little Chapel of the Wayfarer. What was he afraid of?

An hour later Mandy was wearing a pair of white linen pants belonging to Laurie and a beige knit shirt, and they were crossing the Golden Gate Bridge, heading north toward the Napa Valley. The fog hung over the bridge, but once they broke into Marin County the air was soft and mellow, like the wines they were going to taste.