Chapter 4
The restaurant Noah selected was located on one of the steep hills near the heart of the city. It was unique, in that the original Victorian structure had been built by one of Seattle’s founding fathers. The old apartment building had been remodeled to accommodate patrons of L’Epicure, but the structure retained its authentic nineteenth-century charm. White clapboard siding, French gray shutters and an elegant touch of gingerbread adorned the entrance. Flickering sconces invited Sheila inside.
A formally dressed waiter led them up a narrow flight of stairs to a private room in the second story of the gracious old apartment house. An antique table sat in an alcove of leaded glass, giving the patrons a commanding panorama of the city lights. Raindrops lingered and ran on the windowpanes, softly blurring the view and creating an intimate atmosphere in the private room.
“Very nice,” Sheila murmured to herself as she ran her fingers along the windowsill and looked into the night.
Noah helped her into her chair before seating himself on the other side of the small table. Though he attempted to appear calm, Sheila could sense that he was still on edge. The quiet, comfortable silence they had shared in the car had been broken in the shadowy confines of the intimate restaurant.
Before the waiter left, Noah ordered the specialty of the house along with a bottle of Chardonnay by Cascade Valley. Sheila lifted her brows at Noah’s request, but the waiter acted as if nothing were out of the ordinary.
“Why would a European restaurant carry a local wine?” she inquired after the waiter had disappeared from the room.
Noah’s smile twisted wryly. “Because my father insists upon it.”
The waiter returned with the wine and solemnly poured the wine first into Noah’s glass, and upon approval, into Sheila’s. After he had left once again, Sheila persisted with her questions.
“L’Epicure keeps wine for your father?”
“That’s one way of putting it. L’Epicure is a subsidiary of Wilder Investments,” he explained tonelessly.
Sheila’s lips tightened. “I see. Just like Cascade Valley.”
Noah nodded. “Although the restaurant carries a full cellar of European wines, Ben insists that Cascade Valley be fully represented.”
“And your father is used to getting what he wants?”
Noah’s blue eyes turned stone cold. “You could say that.” Any further comment he would have made was repressed by the appearance of the waiter bearing a tray overloaded with steaming dishes of poached halibut in mushroom sauce, wild rice and steamed vegetables. Sheila waited until the food was served and the waiter had closed the door behind him before continuing the conversation.
“I take it you don’t like working for your father?” she guessed as she started the meal.
Noah’s dark eyebrows blunted, and the fork he had been holding was placed back on the table. He clasped his hands together and stared at her over his whitened knuckles. “I think we should get something straight: I do not work for Ben Wilder!”
“But I thought—”
“I said I do not work for Ben! Nor do I collect a salary from Wilder Investments!” His clipped words were succinct and effectively closed the subject. The angry edge of his words and the tensing of his jawline left little doubt that he preferred not to speak of his father or his business.
“I think you owe me an explanation.” Sheila sighed, setting her uneaten food aside. Somehow she had to keep her temper in check. What sort of game was he playing with her? “Why am I sitting here wasting my time, when you just intimated that you have nothing to do with Wilder Investments?”
“Because you wanted to get to know me better.”
Sheila found it difficult to deny the truth, and yet she couldn’t help but feel betrayed. He had tricked her into coming with him, when all along he couldn’t help her in her quest to save the winery and her father’s reputation. Was it her fault for being so mystified by him? Ignoring his wish to avoid discussing Wilder Investments, Sheila continued to push her point home. “I’m listening,” she said quietly. “I want to know why you led me on—or have you forgotten our ground rules?”
“I didn’t lead you on.”
“But you just said that you don’t work for Wilder Investments.”
“I said that I don’t work for my father, and I’m not on the company payroll.”
“That doesn’t make a lot of sense,” Sheila pointed out, her exasperation beginning to show. “What is it exactly that you do?”
Noah shrugged, as if resigned to a fate he abhorred. “I do owe you an explanation,” he admitted thoughtfully. “I used to work for Ben. From the time I graduated from college I was groomed for the position Ben’s only heir would rightfully assume: the presidency of Wilder Investments, whenever Ben decided to retire. I was never very comfortable with the situation as it was, but—” he hesitated, as if wondering how much of his private life he should divulge “—for personal reasons I needed the security my position at Wilder Investments provided.”
“Because of your wife and son?” Sheila immediately regretted her thoughtless question.
Noah’s eyes darkened. “I’ve never had a wife!” He bit out the statement savagely, as if the thought alone were repulsive to him.
Sheila flushed with color. “I’m sorry,” she apologized hastily. “I didn’t knowc. You have a childc.”
Noah’s glare narrowed suspiciously. “You didn’t know about Marilyn? If that’s the truth, you must have been the only person in Seattle who didn’t know the circumstances surrounding Sean’s birth. The press couldn’t leave it alone. All of Ben’s money couldn’t even shut them up!”
“I’ve never lived in Seattle,” she explained hurriedly, still embarrassed. Surely he would believe her. “And—and I didn’t pay any attention to what my father’s business partner was doing, much less his sonc. I was only a teenager and I didn’t know anything about you.”
Noah’s anger subsided slightly as he noticed the stricken look on Sheila’s near-perfect face. “Of course not—it happened years ago.”
Sheila’s hands were trembling as she reached for her wineglass and let the cool liquid slide down herparched throat. She avoided Noah’s probing gaze and pushed the remains of her dinner around on her plate. Although the food was delicious, her hunger had disappeared.
Noah speared a forkful of fish and ate in the thick silence that hung over the table. It was a long moment before he began to speak again. When he did, his voice was calm and toneless, almost dead from the lack of emotion in his words. “There were many reasons why I quit working for my fatherctoo many to hope to explain. I didn’t like the idea of being treated as ‘Ben Wilder’s son’ by the rest of the staff, and I had never gotten on well with my dad in the first place. Working with him only served to deepen the rift between us.” His teeth clenched, and he tossed his napkin onto the table as he remembered the day that he had broken free of the cloying hands of Wilder Investments.
“I stayed on as long as I could, but when one of my father’s investments went sour, he ordered me to investigate the reasons. A manufacturing firm in Spokane wasn’t making it. Although it wasn’t the manager’s fault, Ben had the man fired.” Noah took a drink of wine, as if to cast off the anger he felt each time he remembered the painful scene in his father’s office, the office Noah now reluctantly filled. The image of a man near fifty, his shoulders bowed by the wrath and punishment of Ben Wilder, still haunted Noah. How many times had he pictured the tortured face of Sam Steele as the man realized Ben was really going to fire him for a mistake he hadn’t made? Sam had looked to Noah for support, but even Noah’s pleading was useless. Ben Wilder needed a scapegoat and Sam Steele presented the unlikely sacrificial lamb, an example to the rest of the employees of Wilder Investments. It didn’t matter that Sam wouldn’t be able to find another job at a comparable salary, nor that he had two daughters in college. What mattered to Ben Wilder was his company, his wealth, his power. Though it had all happened years ago, Noah felt an uncomfortable wrench in his gut each time he remembered Sam’s weathered face after leaving Ben’s office. “It doesn’t matter, boy,” Sam had said fondly to Noah. “You did what you could. I’ll make out.”
Sheila was staring at Noah expectantly, and he quickly brought his thoughts back to the present. “That incident,” he stated hurriedly, “was the final straw. By the end of the afternoon I had quit my job, yanked my kid out of school and moved to Oregon. I told myself I would never come back.”
Sheila sat in the encumbering silence for a minute, watching the lines of grief still evident on Noah’s masculine face while he reflected upon a part of his life she knew nothing about. She longed to hear more, to understand more fully the enigmatic man sitting across the table from her. Yet she was afraid, unsure of growing any closer to him. Already she was inexplicably drawn to him, and intuitively she realized that what he was about to tell her would only endear him to her further. Those feelings of endearment would surely only cause her suffering. She couldn’t trust him. Not yet.
“You don’t have to talk about any of this,” she finally managed to say. “It’s obviously painful for you.”
“Only because I was weak.”
“Icdon’t understand,” she whispered, gripping the edge of the table for support as she lifted her eyes to meet the question in his. “And,” she allowed ruefully, “I’m not sure that I want to understand you.”
“You’re the woman who insisted that I owed her an explanation,” he reminded her.
“Not about all of your life.”
“But I thought you wanted to get to know me.”
“NocI just want to know how you’re connected with Wilder Investments,” she lied. She ignored the voice in her mind that was whispering, Dear God, Noah, I don’t understand it, but I want to know everything about youctouch your body and soul. Instead she lowered her eyes. “You are in charge of the company, aren’t you?”
“Temporarily, yes.”
“And you do make all of the decisions for Wilder Investments.”
“Unless the board disapproves. So far they haven’t.” The mindless members of the board wouldn’t dare argue with Ben’s son, Noah thought to himself.
Sheila held her breath as the truth hit her in a cold blast of logic. “Then you were lying to me when you said that you couldn’t make a decision about the winery until your father got back into the country.”
Noah’s mouth twitched in amusement. “I prefer to think of it as stalling for time.”
“We haven’t got time!”
His smile broadened and his eyes lightened over the edge of his wineglass. “Lady, that’s where you’re wrong. We’ve got all the time in the world.”
His gaze was warm. Though the table separated them, Sheila could feel the heat of his eyes caressing her, undressing her, bringing her body closer to his. Under the visual embrace she felt her skin begin to tremble, as if anticipating his touch. Don’t fall for him, she warned herself. Don’t think for a minute that he cares for you. You’re just a handy convenience that stumbled onto him tonight. Remember Jeff. Remember the promises. Remember the lies. Remember the pain. Don’t let it happen again. Don’t fall victim to the same mistake. Don’t!
Carefully she pieced together the poise that he could shatter so easily. “Perhaps we should go.”
“Don’t you even want to know why I’m back at Wilder Investments?” he invited.
“Do you want to tell me?”
“You deserve that much at the very least.”
“And at the very most?”
“You deserve more—much more.”
She waited, her nervous fingers twirling the stem of her glass. She cocked her head expectantly to one side, unconsciously displaying the curve of her throat. Why did he work for his father in a position he found so disagreeable? “I had assumed that you took command because of your father’s heart attack.”
“That’s part of it,” he conceded reluctantly. “But a very small part.” She was quiet, and her silence prodded him on. “Actually, when Ben had the first attack and asked me to take over for a couple of weeks, I refused. I didn’t need the headache, and I figured he would have half a dozen ‘yes-men’ who could more than adequately fill his shoes while he was recuperating. So I refused.”
Sheila’s eyebrows drew together as she tried to understand. “What changed your mind?” she asked quietly.
“The second attack. The one that put Ben in the intensive care unit for a week.” Noah’s fingers drummed restlessly on the table as he thought for a moment. “My father hadn’t trusted anyone to run the company other than himself. When I refused to help him, he ignored the advice of his doctor and picked up where he left off.”
“That’s crazy,” she thought aloud.
Noah shook his head. “That’s getting his way. The second attack almost took his life, and when my mother pleaded with me to help him out, I agreed, but only until a replacement could be found.”
“And you father didn’t bother to look for one,” Sheila surmised.
“Why would he? He got what he wanted.”
“But surely you could find someone—”
“I’ve looked. Anyone I’ve suggested has been turned down by the powers that be.”
“Ben.”
“Exactly.”
Sheila was confused. When she thought of her family and all of the love they had shared, she found it hard to imagine the cold detachment between Ben Wilder and his only son. “Surely there must be some way of solving your problem. Can’t you talk to your father?”
“It doesn’t do any good. Besides, that’s only part of the story. I owed my father a favor—a big favor.”
The uneasy feeling that had been threatening to overtake Sheila all evening caused her to shudder involuntarily. “And you’re repaying him now, aren’t you?”
“In my opinion, yes. You see,” he continued in a flat, emotionless voice, “when my son, Sean, was born, there were problems I wasn’t able to handle alone. I was too young. I was forced to ask and rely upon my father for help. He complied, and the bastard has never let me forget it.”
“But what about Sean’s mother?” Sheila questioned. “Certainly she could have helped if there were a problem with the child. Sean was her responsibility as well as yours.”
“Marilyn?” Noah’s face contorted at the irony of the suggestion and the memory of a young girl he had once thought he loved. “You don’t seem to understand, Sheila. Marilyn was the problem, at least the most evident problem, and it took all of my father’s money and power to deal with her effectively.”
“I shouldn’t have asked—it’s none of my business,” Sheila stammered, stunned by the look of bitterness and hatred on the angled planes of Noah’s proud face.
“It doesn’t matter anymore. Maybe it never did. Anyway, it’s all a part of the past, dead and buried.”
Sheila pushed herself onto unsteady legs beginning to rise from the table. “There’s no reason for you to tell me all of this.”
His hand reached out and captured her wrist, forcing her to stay near him. “You asked,” he reminded her.
“I’m sorry. It was my mistake. Perhaps we should go.”
“Before you see all of the skeletons in the Wilder closets?” he mocked.
She felt her spine become rigid. “Before I lose track of the reason I came here with you.”
Her dark eyebrows lifted elegantly, and Noah thought her the most intriguingly beautiful woman he had ever met. “Am I coercing you?” she asked as her eyes dropped to her wrist, still shackled in his uncompromising grip.
“If you are, lady, it’s only because I want you to,” he rejoined, but the tension ebbed from his face and his hand moved slightly up her forearm, to rub the tender skin of her inner elbow. “Let’s go,” he suggested, helping her from the chair. His hand never left her arm as he escorted her down the stairs and into the night. He carried her coat and wrapped his arm over her shoulders to protect her from the damp breeze that still held the promise of rain.
The drive back to the Wilder estate was accomplished in silence as Noah and Sheila were individually wrapped in their own black cloaks of thought. Though separated from him in the car, Sheila felt mysteriously bound to the darkly handsome man with the knowing blue eyes. What’s he really like? her mind teased. In the flash of an instant she had seen him ruthless and bitter, then suddenly gentle and sensitive. She sensed in him a deep, untouched private soul, and she longed to discover the most intimate reaches of his mind. What would it hurt? her taunting mind implored. What were the depths of his kindness, the limits of his nature? He’ll hurt you, her bothersome consciousness objected. A man hurt you in the past, when you opened yourself up to him. Are you foolish enough to let it happen again? Just how far do you dare trust Noah Wilder, and how far can you trust yourself?
The Volvo slowed as Noah guided the car past the stone pillars at the entrance of the circular drive. The headlights splashed light on the trunks of the stately fir trees that guarded the mansion. As Ben Wilder’s home came into view, Sheila pulled herself from her pensive thoughts and realized that she had accomplished nothing toward furthering her purpose. She had intended to find a way, any way, to get the insurance proceeds to rebuild the winery, and she had failed miserably. She didn’t even know if Noah had the power or the desire to help her. Had the insurance company paid off Wilder Investments? The car ground to a halt as Sheila discovered her mistake. Caught in her fascination for a man she had been warned to mistrust, she had lost sight of her purpose for making the trip to Seattle.
“Would you like to come in for a drink?” Noah asked as he flicked off the engine and the silence of the night settled in the interior of the car.
“I don’t think so,” she whispered, trying to push aside her growing awareness of him.
“We have unfinished business.”
“I know that. You’ve found a way to successfully dodge the subject of the winery all evening. Why?”
Noah smiled to himself. “I didn’t realize that I was. Would you like to come inside and finish the discussion?”
Sheila caught her breath. “No.”
“I thought you were anxious to get the insurance settlement,” he replied, his eyes narrowing as he studied her in the darkness.
“I am. You know that, but I happen to know when I’ve been conned.”
“Conned?” he repeated incredulously. “What are you talking about?”
“It was difficult to get you on the phone and when I finally did, you refused to see me with some ridiculous excuse that any decision about the winery had to be made by your father. Then you agreed to talk about it over dinner, but conveniently avoided the issue all night. Why would I think that anything’s going to change? You haven’t listened to me at allc.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve listened to everything you’ve said all evening,” he interrupted in a low voice.
“Then what’s your decision?”
“I’ll tell you that, too, if you’ll join me for a drink.” His hand reached for hers in the car. “Come on, Sheila. We’ve got the rest of the night to talk about anything you want.”
Again she felt herself falling under his spell, her eyes lost in his and her fingers beginning to melt in the soft, warm pressure of his hands. “All right,” she whispered, wondering why this man, this stranger, seemed to know everything about her. And what he didn’t know, she wanted to divulge to himc.
The fire in the den had grown cold, and only a few red embers remained to warm the room. Noah quickly poured them each a drink and took a long swallow of his brandy before kneeling at the fire and adding a wedge of cedar to the glowing coals. As he stood, he dusted the knees of his pants with his palms. Sheila sipped her drink and watched him, noticing the way his oxford cloth shirt stretched over his shoulders as he tended the fire and then straightened. In her mind she could picture the ripple of muscles in his back as he worked.
When Noah turned to face her, she couldn’t hide the embarrassed burn of her cheeks, as if she expected him to read the wayward thoughts in her eyes.
“Can I get you anything else?” he asked, nodding toward the glass she held tightly in her hands.
“Nocnothingcthis is fine,” she whispered.
“Good. Then why don’t you sit down and tell me what you intend to do with the insurance settlement, should it be awarded you.”
Sheila dropped gratefully into a wingback chair near the fire and looked Noah squarely in the eyes. “I don’t expect you to hand me a blank check for a quarter of a million dollars, you know.”
“Good, because I have no intention of doing anything of the kind.” Sheila felt butterflies in her stomach. Was he playing with her again? His face was unreadable in the firelight.
“What I do expect, however, is that you and I mutually decide how best to rebuild Cascade Valley, hire a contractor, put the funds in escrow and start work immediately.” Her gray eyes challenged him to argue with her logic.
“That, of course, is assuming that the insurance company has paid the settlement to Wilder Investments.”
“Hasn’t that occurred?” Sheila asked, holding her breath. Certainly by now, over a month since the fire, payment had been made.
“There’s a little bit of a hitch as far as Pac-West Insurance Company is concerned.”
Sheila felt herself sinking into despair. “The arson?” she guessed.
Shadows of doubt crowded Noah’s deep blue eyes. “That’s right. Until a culprit is discovered, the insurance company is holding tightly on to its purse strings.”
Sheila blanched as the truth struck her. “You think my father had something to do with the firec. You think he deliberately started it, don’t you?” she accused in a low voice that threatened to break.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You implied it!”
“Not at all. I’m only pointing out the insurance company’s positioncnothing else.”
“Then I’ll have to talk to someone at Pac-West,” Sheila said. “One of those claims adjusters, or whatever they are.”
“I don’t think that will do any good.”
“Why not?”
His smile didn’t touch his eyes. “Because, for one thing, I’ve already tried that. The insurance company’s position is clear.”
“Then what can we do?” Sheila asked herself aloud.
Noah hedged for a moment. How much could he tell her? Was she involved in the arson? Had her father been? He rubbed his thumbnail pensively over his lower lip and stared at Sheila. Why did he feel compelled to trust this beguiling woman he didn’t know? As he studied the innocent yet sophisticated curve of her cheek, the slender column of her throat and the copper sheen to her thick, chestnut hair, he decided to take a gamble and trust hercjust a little. His intense eyes scrutinized her reaction, watching for a flicker of doubt or fear to cross her eyes.
“What we can do is investigate the cause of the fire ourselves,” he explained thoughtfully.
Her eyebrows furrowed. “How?”
“Wilder Investments has a private investigator on retainer. I’ve already asked him to look into it.”
“Do you think that’s wise? Doesn’t the insurance company have investigators on its staff?”
“Of course. But this way we can speed things up a little. Unless you’re opposed to the idea.”
If she heard a steely edge to his words, she ignored it and dug her fingernails into the soft flesh of her palm. “I’ll do anything I can to clear my father’s name and get the winery going again.”
“It’s that important to you?” he asked, slightly skeptical. “Why?”
“Cascade Valley was my father’s life, his dream, and I’m not allowing anyone or anything to take away his good name or his dreams.”
“You want to carry on the Lindstrom tradition, is that it? Follow in your father’s footsteps?”
“It’s a matter of pridecand tradition, I suppose.”
“But your father bought his interest in the winery less than twenty years ago. It’s not as if Cascade Valley has been a part of your family’s history,” he observed, testing her reaction. How much of what she was saying was the truth? All of it? Or was she acting out a well-rehearsed scene? If so, she was one helluva convincing actress.
Sheila was instantly wary. The doubts reflected in Noah’s eyes lingered and pierced her soul. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged indifferently. “Running the day-to-day operation at the winery is a hard job. You’ll have to be an accountant, manager, personnel director, quality control inspectorceverything to each of your employees. Why would a woman with a small child want to take on all of that responsibility?”
“For the same reasons a man would, I suppose.” Her eyes lighted with defiance.
His voice was deathly quiet as he baited her. “A man might be more practical,” he suggested, inviting her question.
“How’s that?”
“He might consider the alternatives.”
“There are none.”
“I wouldn’t say that. What about the option of selling out your interest in the winery for enough money to support you and your daughter comfortably?”
Sheila tried to keep her voice steady. “I doubt that anyone would be interested in buying. The economy’s slow, and as you so aptly pointed out earlier, Cascade Valley has had more than its share of problems.”
Noah set his empty glass on the mantel. “Perhaps I can convince the board of directors at Wilder Investments to buy out your share of the winery.”
Jonas Fielding’s warning echoed in Sheila’s ears. Noah was offering to buy out her interest in Cascade, just as the crafty lawyer had predicted. A small part of Sheila seemed to wither and die. In her heart she had expected and hoped for more from him. In the short time she had known him, she had learned to care for him and she didn’t want to let the blossoming feelings inside her twist and blacken with deceit. She couldn’t be manipulated, not by Ben Wilder, nor by his son. “No,” she whispered nearly inaudibly as she lifted her eyes to meet his piercing gaze. “I won’t sell.”
Noah saw the painful determination in the rigid set of her jaw and the unmasked despair that shadowed her eyes as she silently accused him of a crime he couldn’t possibly understand. She had tensed when he had mentioned the possibility of buying out the winery, but it had only seemed logical to him. What did she expect of himcmore money? But, he hadn’t even named a price. “I can assure you, Sheila, that Wilder Investments would be more than generous in the offer.”
Her quiet eyes turned to gray ice. “I don’t doubt that, but the point is, I’m not interested in selling.”
“You haven’t even heard the terms.”
“It doesn’t matter. I won’t sell,” she repeated coldly. How much like the father he so vehemently denounced was Noah Wilder?
Noah shrugged before draining his glass and approaching the chair in which she was seated. “It doesn’t matter to me what you do with your precious winery,” he stated evenly as he bent over the chair and placed his hands on each of the silvery velvet arms, imprisoning her against the soft fabric. “I only wanted you to be aware of your options.”
His voice was gentle and concerned. Sheila felt as if she had known him all her life rather than a few short hours, and she wanted to melt into his soft words. “Icunderstand my options,” she assured him shakily.
“Do you?” His blue eyes probed deep into hers, further than any man had dared to see. “I wonder.” His lips were soft as they pressed gently against her forehead, and Sheila sighed as she closed her eyelids and let her head fall backward into the soft cushions of the chair. A small, nagging voice in her mind argued that she shouldn’t give in to her passions; she shouldn’t let the warmth that he was inviting begin to swell within her. But the sensuous feeling of his lips against her skin, the mysterious blue intensity of his eyes, the awareness in her body that she had presumed to have died in the ashes of her broken marriage, all argued with a twinge of conscience and slowly took over her mind as well as her body.
His hands were strong as they held her chin and tipped her lips to meet his. A sizzling tremor shook her body in response when the kiss began, and she sighed deeply, parting her lips and inviting him quietly to love her. When his passion caught hold of him and he tasted the honeyed warmth of her lips, he gently pushed his tongue against her teeth and entered the moist cavern of her mouth. Her moan of pleasure sent ripples of desire hotly through his blood. His hands slid down the length of her neck and touched the fluttering pulse that was jumping in the feminine hollow of her throat. His thumbs gently outlined the delicate bone structure in slow, swirling circles of sensitivity that gathered and stormed deep within her.
Sheila heard nothing over the resounding beat of her heart fluttering in her chest and thundering in her eardrums. She thought of nothing other than the cascading warmth and desire that were washing over her body in uneven passionate waves. Feelings of longing, yearning, desires that flamed heatedly, flowed through her as Noah kissed her. Involuntarily she reached up and wound her arms around his neck. The groan of satisfaction that rumbled in his throat gave her a deep, primeval pleasure, and when he pulled his lips from hers, she knew a deep disappointment.
He looked longingly into her eyes, asking her silent, unspoken questions that demanded answers she couldn’t ignore. How much did he want from her? What could she give—what would he take?
“Sheila, dear Sheila,” he murmured against her hair. It was whispered as a plea. She wanted him, ached for him, but remained silent.
His persuasive lips nuzzled against the column of her throat to linger at the inviting feminine bone structure at its base. His tongue drew lazy circles around Sheila’s erratic pulse, and Sheila felt as if her very soul were centered beneath his warm insistent touch. Her fingers entwined in the dark, coffee-colored strands of his hair, and she leaned backward, offering more of her neckcmore of her being. When his wet tongue touched the center of her pulse, quicksilver flames darted through her veins, and she pushed herself more closely against his body.
His fingers found the buttons on her blouse, and cautiously he opened the top button. As he did so his head lowered, letting his lips caress the gaping space between the two pieces of silken cloth. Sheila moaned against him, asking for more of his gentle touch. He unbuttoned the next pearly fastener, and once more his lips dipped lower, touching her soft, warm flesh. Molten fire streamed through Sheila’s veins at his expert touch and in anticipation of his next move. His hot lips seared her skin, and she was not disappointed when his fingers unhinged an even lower button, parting the soft, rose-colored fabric and exposing the gentle swell of her breasts straining achingly against the flimsy barrier of her bra. When his mouth touched the edge of her bra, outlining the lace with the moistness of his tongue, she thought the ache within her would explode. His breath fanned heatedly over her sensitive skin, and she felt her breath come in short gasps. There didn’t seem to be enough air in the room to keep her senses from swimming in the whirlpool of passion moving her closer to this man she had barely met and yet known a lifetime. She was drowning in his velvet-soft caresses, losing her breath with each passing instant of his arduous lovemaking. Take me, a voice within her wanted to scream, but the words never passed her lips.
She felt the wispy fabric of her blouse as he eased it gently past her shoulders, kissing her exposed neck and arms.
“Let me love youc” he moaned.
Her eyes, shining with a burning passion, yielded to his demands. But still the words froze in her throat.
Softly he pulled her out of the chair and gently eased her onto the carpet with the weight of his body. She felt the soft pile of the Persian rug against the bare skin of her back, and she knew that if she wanted to turn back, it would have to be soon, before all of the long-buried desire became alive again. His hands fitted warmly against her rib cage, outlining each individual bone with one of his strong, masculine fingers. A trembling sigh of submission broke from her lips.
He plunged his head between her breasts, softly imprinting his lips on the firm, white skin in the hollow. Her fingers traveled up his neck to hold his head protectively against her as one of his hands reached up to lovingly cup a breast. She took a quick intake of breath at the command of his touch. His fingers dipped seductively beneath the lace and her nipple tightened, expecting his touch.
“You’re beautiful,” he moaned before kissing the soft fabric of her bra and teasing the nipple bound within the gossamer confinement of lace and satin. Sheila felt her breast swell with desire and a flood of foreign, long-lost emotions raced through her blood.
Gently Noah lowered the strap over her shoulder, and her breasts spilled from their imprisonment. He groaned as he massaged first one, and then the other. Sheila thought she would melt into the carpet as he kissed his way over the hill of one of the shapely mounds before taking it firmly in his mouth and gently soothing all of the bittersweet torment from her body.
“Let me make love to you, beautiful lady,” Noah whispered, quietly asking her to give in to him. “Let me make you mine,” he coaxed.
In response, Sheila felt her body arching upward to meet the weight of him. Whether it was wrong or right, she wanted him as desperately as he wanted her.
“Sheila.” His voice was flooded with naked passion. “Come to bed with me.” Her only response was to moan softly against him.
Slowly he raised his head to stare into the depths of her desirous gray eyes. The red embers from the fire darkened his masculine features, making them seem harsher, more defined and angular in the bloodred shadows of the dimly lit room. His eyes never left hers, and they smoldered with a blue flame of passion that he was boldly attempting to hold at bay.
“Tell me you want me,” he persuaded in a raspy, breathless voice.
Her dark brows pulled together in frustration and confusion. Why was he pulling away from her? Of course she wanted him, needed him, longed to be a part of him. Couldn’t he feel the desperate intensity of her yearning?
“Tell me!” he again demanded, this time more roughly than before. Her eyes were shadowed; was there a flicker of doubt, a seed of mistrust in their misty gray depths? He had to know.
“What do you want from me?” she asked, trying to control her ragged breathing and erratic heartbeat. Had she misread him? Suddenly she was painfully aware of her partially nude condition, and the fact that he was asking rather than taking from her.
“I want to know that you feel what I’m feeling!”
“IcI don’t understand.”
His fingers, once gentle, tightened against the soft flesh of her upper arms and held her prisoner against the carpet. As he studied the elegant lines of her face, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Never had he been so impulsive, so rash, when it came to a woman. Why did this woman bewitch him so? Why did she make him feel more alive than he had in years? Was it the provocative turn of her chin, the light that danced in her eyes, the fresh scent of her hair? Why was he taken in by her beauty, which was in the same instant innocent and seductive? For the last sixteen years of his life he had cautiously avoided any commitment that might recreate the scene that had scattered his life in chaos. He had been careful, never foolhardy enough to fall for a woman again. But now, as he stared into Sheila’s wide, silver-colored eyes, he felt himself slipping into the same black abyss that had thrown his life into disorder long ago. Not since Marilyn had he allowed himself the luxury of becoming enraptured by a woman. And if he had been truthful, none he had met had deeply interested him. But tonight was different. Damn it, he was beginning to care for Sheila Lindstrom, though he knew little of her and couldn’t begin to understand her motives. How far could he trust such a lovely, bewitching creature as the woman lying desirously in his arms?
Noah’s death grip on Sheila relaxed. “I want you,” he said simply in a hoarse voice that admitted what he had felt from the first moment she had appeared on his doorstep.
“I know.” She sighed. She crossed her arms over her breasts, as if to shield herself from the truth. But her eyes met Noah’s unwaveringly. “I want you, too,” she conceded huskily.
The silence in the room was their only barrier, and yet Noah hesitated. “That’s not enough,” he admitted, wiping the sweat that had begun to bead on his upper lip. “There has to be more.”
Sheila shook her head slowly in confusion, and the sweep of her hair captured red-gold highlights from the flames. Try as she would, she couldn’t understand him. What was he saying? Was he rejecting her? Why? What had she done?
Noah witnessed the apprehension and agony in Sheila’s eyes and regretted that he was a part of her pain. He wanted to comfort her, to explain the reasons for his reservation, but was unable. How could he expect her to understand that he had loved a woman once in the past and that that love had been callously and bitterly sold to the highest bidder? Was it possible for Sheila to see what Marilyn had done to him when the bitch had put a price on her illegitimate son’s head when Sean was born? Was it fair for Noah to burden Sheila with the guilt and agony he had suffered because of his love for his child? No! Though he wanted to trust her, he couldn’t tell her about the part of his life he had shoved into a dark, locked corner of his mind. Instead, he took an easier, less painful avenue. “I get the feeling that you think I’m rushing things,” he whispered as he pressed a soft kiss against her hair.
She smiled wistfully and blushed. “It’s not your faultcI could have stopped youcI didn’t want to.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” he murmured quietly.
In the thickening silence, Sheila could sense Noah struggling with an inner battle, resisting the tide of passion that was pushing against him. She reached for her blouse, hoping to pull it back onto her body so she could leave this housecthis man before he ignited the passions in her blood and she was once again filled with liquid fire. If possible she hoped to leave the quiet room and seductively intense man with whatever shreds of dignity she could muster.
“Wait!” he commanded as he realized she was preparing to leave. His broad hand grabbed her wrist, and the silken blouse once again fell to the floor.
Sheila felt her temper begin to flare, and the tears that had been threatening to spill burned in her throat. She was tired, and it had been a long, fruitless evening. She had accomplished nothing she had intended to do, and now she wasn’t sure if she was capable of working with Ben Wilder or his son. Too many emotions had come and gone with the intimate evening, too many secrets divulged. And yet, despite the growing sense of intimacy she felt with Noah, she knew there were deep, abysmal misconceptions that she couldn’t possibly bridge. “What, Noah?” she asked in a tense, raw whisper. “What do you want from me? All night long I’ve been on the receiving end of conflicting emotions.” Her breath was coming in short, uneven gasps. Tears threatened to spill. “One minute you want me and the nextcyou don’t. Just let me go home, for God’s sake!”
“You’re wrong!”
“I doubt that!” She pulled her hand free of the gentle manacle of his grip, scooted silently away from him, snatched up the blouse and quickly stretched her arms through the sleeves. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons, so intent was she on getting out of the house as rapidly as possiblecaway from the magnetism of his eyescaway from the charm of his dimpled, slightly off-center smilecaway from the warm persuasion of his handsc.
Noah dragged himself into a sitting position before standing up and leaning against the warm stones of the fireplace. He let his forehead fall into the palm of his hand as he tried to think things out rationally. The entire scene was out of character for him. What the devil had he done, seducing this woman he had barely met? Why was she so responsive to his touch? He knew instinctively that she wasn’t the type of woman who fell neatly into a stranger’s arms at the drop of a hat, and yet she was here, in his home, warm, inviting, yielding to the gentle coaxing of his caresses. His mouth pulled into a grim frown. How did he let himself get mixed up with hercwhoever she was? And what were her motives? “Don’t go,” he said unevenly, turning to face her.
She had managed to get dressed and was putting on her raincoat. She paused for only a second before hiking the coat over her shoulders and unsteadily tying the belt. “I think it would be best.”
“I want you to stay, here, tonight, with me.”
Sheila took in a long, steadying breath. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know you well enough.”
“But if you don’t stay, how will you everc‘know me well enough’?” he countered. He stood away from her, not touching her. It was her mind he wanted, as well as her body.
“I need timec.” she whispered, beginning to waver. She had to get out, away from him. Soon, before it was too late.
He took a step toward her. “We’re both adults. It’s not as if this would be a first for either of us. You have a daughter and I have a son.”
She paused, but only slightly. “That doesn’t change things. Look, Noah, you know as well as I that I would like to fall into bed and sleep with you. ButcI just can’tc.” She blushed in her confusion. “I can’t just hop into bed with any man I find attractivec. Oh, this is coming out all wrong.” She took a deep breath and lifted her eyes to meet his. They were steady and strong, though tears had begun to pool in their gray-blue depths. “What I’m trying to say,” she managed bravely, “is that I don’t have casual affairs.”
“I know that.”
“You don’t understand. I’ve never slept with any man, othercother than Jeff.”
“Your ex-husband,” Noah surmised with a tightening of his jaw.
Sheila nodded.
“It doesn’t matter,” Noah said with a shrug.
“Of course it does. Don’t you see? I almost tumbled into bed with youcon the first night I’d met you. That’s not like me, not at allc I don’t even know you.”
His scowl lifted, and an amused light danced in his eyes. “I think you know me better than you’re willing to admit.”
“I’d like to,” she conceded.
“But?”
It was her turn to smile. “I’m afraid, I guess.”
“That I won’t live up to your expectations?”
“Partially.”
“What else?”
“That I won’t live up to yours.”