A Silken Thread (8 page)

He walked to get information from his own airline, in the opposite direction from where she had gone. At least they had offered them a hotel room. He wished he could say he intended to relax, as Rita had indicated she was going to do, but he couldn’t. After checking in to the hotel he planned on going out and finding the nearest bar to wash away these emotions, which he shouldn’t be having in the first place.

As he stepped onto the escalator that would carry him down to his gate, he thought that a glass of scotch later sounded pretty damn nice.

Rita glanced around her hotel room a moment before tilting her head back, closing her eyes and drawing in a deep breath. She inhaled the scent of cinnamon and all but licked her lips at the thought of all the goodies in the bakery across the street. An image of her enjoying any sort of pastry with a cup of coffee made a silly grin form on her face. She immediately opened her eyes when images of something else flashed across her brain…or should she say someone else.

Wilson Sanders.

She could admit in private that she liked him a little too much. She had begun feeling things she should not be feeling. The man was married, for heaven’s sake, and he was her son’s future father-in-law. Then why did she—a woman known to be more interested in the positioning of yucca plants than men—find herself so attracted to him?

When he smiled, funny feelings would erupt in her midsection. Even when he did something as simple as shrug his massive shoulders, she was consumed by emotions she hadn’t felt in a long time. And that in itself wasn’t good. She felt completely out of her element around him, while at the same time she felt like a real woman for the first time in years. A woman with primitive urges and true yearnings. That would be all well and good if the object of her attention wasn’t who he was.

She closed her eyes and tilted her head back again, wishing the features of another man would pop into her head. She’d met several on her Sweden trip. No such luck.

She opened her eyes, deciding she had done the right thing in turning down Wilson’s invitation to dinner. She’d never respected women who were involved with married men. Marriage vows were sacred and were meant to be forever. For the time being, until she could sort out in her mind why she was being pulled in a direction she would rather not go, she would keep a safe and comfortable distance from Wilson.

Her stomach made a growling sound and she remembered she hadn’t eaten anything since the sandwich she’d had with coffee earlier. The meal she’d shared with Wilson. Not wanting to think of anything associated with Wilson at the moment, she decided to appease her stomach, while at the same time enjoying her extra night in Stockholm.

She remembered the receptionist at the front desk had mentioned that Stockholm’s most popular restaurant/night club was in walking distance of the hotel. Maybe a night out on the town was what she needed. When was the last time she’d done such a thing? Probably last year when she and her best friend, Lori Spencer, had gone out for Lori’s fiftieth birthday. She hoped there wouldn’t be nude men dancing in front of her face tonight.

She smiled when she thought of Lori. Her best friend topped the list of those who felt she was wasting a lot of her years not having a man in her life. Of course that would be a natural assumption for Lori to make, since she seemed to breathe men. Divorced by choice, Lori thought men were put here for women to enjoy. But Rita knew that, even as open and brazen as Lori was, she’d never become involved with a married man.

But then, Rita wasn’t talking about an involvement with Wilson. Things would never go that far. She was having issues with the fact that she was attracted to him in the first place—something she knew Lori would say was normal. Maybe Lori would be right. The attraction was harmless. In fact, when they saw each other again, which probably wouldn’t be until the actual wedding, whatever vibes they’d felt earlier would probably be out of their systems. Gone and forever forgotten. She certainly hoped so. Otherwise, seeing him again could prove to be an uncomfortable situation.

A short while later, after she had showered and dressed, she checked herself in the mirror. She didn’t look bad for a woman her age.

She grabbed her purse and headed out. The night was young and alive and she intended to enjoy it.

“What are we having tonight, sir?”

“Let’s start with scotch on the rocks. You can bring a menu later.”

“Yes, sir.”

Wilson leaned back in his chair while watching members of the band he assumed would be performing for the evening set up their musical equipment onstage. He then glanced around at the club from his table in the back where the lights were dimmed.

This club had come recommended by the staff at the hotel where he was staying. After dealing with business all week, he needed to unwind and thought coming here would do the trick. Besides, he needed a drink.

It didn’t take long for the waiter to return with Wilson’s scotch. He wasted no time taking a swallow of it.

He needed the night alone and the drink to think about what had happened earlier with Rita. She had done the right thing in not accepting his invitation to dinner. Although he’d meant it sincerely, they both knew there was more between them than either of them wanted. It wasn’t a good situation for either of them to be caught up in. They were adults, and expectedly, a lot wiser. Smart enough to ward off any circumstances that could lead to a mistake.

Rita was a beautiful woman, and as a man who could not only recognize beauty but appreciate it as well, he couldn’t help finding her desirable. His being married had nothing to do with it. Beautiful women attracted normal men.

But in his case there was more to it than that. Sometimes he wondered just how “normal” he was. He’d been married for thirty years yet he hadn’t made love to his wife in over twenty. She had turned him down each and every time he had made an attempt. He’d tried to romance her, entice her with getaways, and every time she had flatly refused him, saying she didn’t need sex in her life.

He knew his wife was too selfish to care about the possibility that he did need sex and might go where he could to find it. But he had never given betraying her that way any thought, although he’d had had several opportunities to do so.

Last year his younger brother Marshall had asked him how long he would remain in a loveless marriage. Unlike him, Marshall had married for love and it showed. It hadn’t mattered to Marshall that the family had almost disowned him for marrying Swan Callahan, a woman whose family had been born on the other side of the tracks, as Karen liked to say. Marshall hadn’t needed the Sanders’ name or money to succeed, and today both he and Swan worked as doctors at Hattersville General and their twins were in college.

He hadn’t had an answer for Marshall then and didn’t have one now. However, being around Rita had made him realize that he was a man with needs. Needs he had locked away for a lifetime to be a good husband and father.

He picked up his scotch glass to take another sip when suddenly his senses became alert. Even a little edgy. The hand holding the glass tightened as he scanned the club.

And then he saw her.

Rita had entered the restaurant alone. She was looking sleek, stylish and sexy in a rather sophisticated dress that hit at the knees, showing her legs. This was the first time he’d actually seen her legs and he thought they should be on display all the time.

His eyes continued to glide over her as the waitress escorted her to a table. She hadn’t looked his way, but then she had no reason to, since he was seated in a darkened area in the back. To his way of thinking, this gave him an advantage. An advantage he probably had no right to be taking. He was, after all, a married man, regardless of whether he wanted to be. But then, a part of his brain kept insinuating that, married or not, there was nothing wrong with a man appreciating a beautiful woman, as long as he didn’t get out of line or act on that appreciation. And he had no intentions of ever doing anything like that.

As far as he was concerned, there was no reason they couldn’t enjoy each other’s company over dinner tonight. However, since she had turned down his invitation to dinner earlier, he would let her dine now in peace.

Unless she looked over his way and saw him, she had no reason to know he was even here. Picking up his glass he settled back in his chair to enjoy the view.

Chapter Eight

B
y the time the band broke for intermission, Rita was on her third glass of wine after dinner. For the first time in a long time she felt at ease, calm and totally relaxed. She was sure the wine had something to do with it. Not that she’d taken leave of her senses. In fact somehow the wine made her feel more alert. More attuned. Warmed to the soul.

As the lights in the club became brighter, people began moving around. Some were leaving; others were arriving. Then, there appeared to be a sudden quietness, although she could still see people buzzing about. She slowly drew a deep breath and turned her head, not sure exactly what she was looking for or expected to find. And then she saw Wilson, sitting alone at a table in the back of the club.

Their eyes met and she felt her body tense at the same time she felt shivers in the pit of her stomach. When had he arrived? She was sitting in close proximity to the entrance so there was no way he could have walked in without her noticing him. That meant he had been there all the time.

As their gazes held, his lips moved and he gave her a smile so sensual that it nearly stole her next breath. She swallowed, felt her throat getting dry and automatically took another sip of her wine.

Embarrassment nearly tinted her features. He had asked her to join him for dinner and she had turned him down, using the flimsy excuse that she wanted to hang out in her hotel room and chill. Well, although she might be chilling, this definitely wasn’t her hotel room. But a woman did have the right to change her mind, didn’t she? Would he see it as that or would he recognize it for what it had been? A way to put distance between them.

Her heart began beating furiously in her chest as their gazes continued to hold. As she watched, he finally stood and, without disconnecting his gaze from hers, he began walking over toward her table. She could feel herself tremble with every slow and methodical step that he took. He was staring at her with the same intensity that she was staring at him. What was she going to say to him? She had failed miserably at keeping him at bay.

She cleared her throat when he came to a stop in front of her table and she had to tilt her head back to look up at him.

“Rita.”

She swallowed before she managed to say, “Wilson.”

“You look lovely tonight.”

“Thank you.”

He jammed his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Did you enjoy dinner?”

She hesitated a moment before saying, “Yes. Did you?”

He chuckled. “Funny thing, I never got around to ordering anything. I guess I was fine with my drink.”

The proper thing to do was to ask him to join her, since she felt bad being caught in a lie. “If you continue to stand I’m going to get a crook in my neck looking up at you,” she said in a teasing tone, trying to make light of the situation she had backed herself into. “Would you like to join me?”

He nodded. “Yes,” he said, pulling out a chair and taking it.

She leaned back and crossed her legs. “How long have you been in here?”

He seemed to have studied her movement and his gaze moved from her legs up to her face. “Awhile. I saw you when you walked in.”

“Why didn’t you let me know you were here?”

He shrugged. “I figured you would prefer it that way.”

Because of what she’d said earlier when he’d invited her to dinner. There was nothing she could say…but that didn’t mean she shouldn’t try.

“Wilson, I—”

“There’s no need to explain, Rita.”

She was quiet for a long moment as she thought about what he’d said. No, there was no need to explain. But she felt she needed to anyway.

“You’re married.”

If he found that statement odd he didn’t show it. “Yes, I am married.”

She released a shuddering breath. Not that he needed to confirm such a thing, but for some reason she needed to make sure his marital status was out there, planted firmly in both of their minds.

“And I have never been unfaithful to my wife during the entire thirty years of our marriage.”

She nodded. That was good to hear. Had he said that to let her know that—although there might be some crazy vibes still flowing between them, vibes that seemed more heated now than earlier—he was a happily married man? For some reason she doubted the happily married part. Her aunt Grace had once told her that being married meant more than sharing names on a marriage certificate. It meant being one with the other. As she had been with Patrick.

Remembering the man she had loved deeply made her take another sip of her wine and she couldn’t help noticing her glass was almost empty. Her server had already noticed before she had and he was back refilling her glass. She should tell him she’d had enough, but decided not to do so.

The man then turned to Wilson. “Sir, would you like a refill?”

“Yes.”

“And will you be joining the madam here?”

He gave her a quick glance before returning his attention back to the server and saying, “Yes.”

The server then quickly moved away and they were alone again. Wilson’s gaze reclaimed hers. “Now, you were saying…”

She managed a shrug, not sure she was capable of saying anything. She took a sip of her wine. “Nothing. I think you’ve said it all, Wilson.”

He chuckled, and the rich, husky sound was something to be admired. Really it was. There was something so invigorating about him. She thought that Karen Sanders was a very lucky woman and wondered if she knew that.

“Have you been enjoying the music?” he asked her.

“Yes, very much so. I’ve always enjoyed good music and was trying to compare this club with one back home.”

A smile touched his lips. “The music is somewhat different, although I’ve always been a fan of Lars Gullin and the Swedish jazz sound. The man was one hell of a saxophone player.”

“Yes, I know.”

At the slow lifting of his brow she smiled and said, “I was an army brat and traveled around the world a lot. Although I never lived in Sweden, I did live for a while in Liverpool. The Swedish jazz sound was pretty big there.”

Their conversation paused when the server returned with Wilson’s drink. Moments later the musicians took the stage again and Rita became absorbed in her surroundings and the music. At least she tried to become absorbed in them. Neither could compete with the man sitting at her table. The man who—whether she wanted it or not—couldn’t help but claim every bit of her attention.

“Do you think we’ll get to fly out tomorrow?” she decided to ask, for lack of anything better to say at the moment.

“Yes. Are you getting homesick already?”

She smiled and was reminded of why she had liked him. He hadn’t asked with ridicule in his tone. Although it was quite obvious that a man in his profession would be used to giving orders instead of taking them, she felt he could still reach down and converse genuinely on a personal level.

“Yes, I can admit I am homesick in a way. I talked to Brian earlier, to let him know my flight was being delayed, and he happened to be on his way to the airport to pick up Erica.”

Wilson raised a surprised brow. “I thought she wasn’t flying to Dallas until the weekend.”

“I guess she changed her mind.” Rita smiled. “She’s a woman, she has a right to do that, you know.”

He chuckled. “Trust me, I know.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment and then a question came to her mind. “What hotel did your airline put you up in?”

“The Hilton. What about you?”

Rita pulled in a deep breath. “The same one.”

“Oh.”

He’d spoken that one word and she couldn’t tell if it was a good
oh,
or a bad
oh.

As for her, either way, she needed to prepare herself for the walk back to the hotel room, since she had a darn good feeling they would be sharing it.

Wilson glanced over at the woman walking by his side, grateful for the fresh night air. He needed to clear his head for more reasons than one. Although he wasn’t drunk by any means, he still had imbibed more scotch tonight than he had in a long time. However, instead of it dulling his senses, he felt they were sharper than ever. And that had everything to do with Rita.

He glanced up at the sky, saw the stars and the full moon, and for a while he thought the piano music he’d heard tonight wasn’t the only magical thing around here. The night held some wonders of its own and he felt good being here. Especially while walking beside Rita, sharing her space.

Tomorrow they would fly out, go their separate ways, and their paths wouldn’t cross again until the day of their offspring’s wedding. He smiled just thinking about it.

“What’s the smile for?”

He glanced over at her. “I was just thinking about Brian and Erica’s wedding.”

She smiled, as well. “It won’t be long now and I promise to look after her when she moves to Dallas.”

He nodded. “I appreciate that. Karen still isn’t happy about her moving away from Hattersville.”

“But you don’t have a problem with it?”

“No, not a one. I think Brian is a fine young man and it’s her place to be with her husband.” Just like he knew it was his place to be with his wife, although lately he had begun wondering why. He had called her earlier to let her know his flight was delayed and she hadn’t even asked him why. She rushed him off the phone saying she was on her way out and didn’t have time for idle chitchat. When it came to him she’d never had time for anything. And for years he’d let her get away with it. She had conveniently placed him on a shelf and he had stayed there. Tonight he realized how it would be to spend time with a woman, if for nothing more than to share a drink and some music. He and Karen did share after-dinner drinks, but it was only to give her a chance to unwind and talk about the people she felt were beneath her.

When they entered the hotel lobby Rita slowed her pace. “Thanks for the walk. I needed it.”

“So did I.”

She stopped walking. “This is where we need to say good-night and good-bye until August.”

He leaned forward and smiled. “Do you honestly think I’ll leave you on your own to get to your room?”

She decided not to argue. “Fine. I’m on the fifth floor,” she said, and began walking toward the bank of elevators.

Other couples were around and got onto the elevator with them. The ride up to the fifth floor was short. Done in silence. There wasn’t anything to say as they stood beside each other in the cramped quarters.

When they reached her floor and the doors swooshed open, they both stepped out. He glanced over at her thinking he didn’t regret anything about tonight. He had enjoyed sitting at the table sharing drinks with her while they listened to the jazz, and he appreciated the conversation. He liked hearing her talk. She had a soft voice, the kind he could probably listen to for hours on end and not get tired of hearing.

And he had liked glancing across the table at her when she didn’t know he was looking. When he should not have been looking. He didn’t have the right, but he had done so anyway. And his chest had thumped deeply each time she had smiled with enjoyment when the band ended one number and began another.

He couldn’t help but wonder if what his brother had claimed all these years was true. Did every living human being have a soul mate? A person so attuned to another person that loving them, wanting to be with them, was just as vital as eating and breathing? At the moment he didn’t know. He truly couldn’t imagine such a thing.

He began looking straight ahead down the long, seemingly endless hallway, counting the doors they passed on their way to hers. When they reached their destination, he would say good-bye, tell her that he hoped she had a safe flight home and then turn to leave. Simple. Yet for him, for some reason it would be hard. Whatever time they had shared over the past twelve hours would be just a memory. A memory she might eventually banish from her mind, though he doubted he ever would.

“Thank you for walking me to my door,” she said when she came to a stop.

He halted his steps as well and glanced at her, saw her smile and at that moment his breath was nearly snatched right from his lungs. What was happening to him? Why was his heart beating so fast? What were these emotions that were surging inside of him and rapidly consuming him?

“Don’t mention it,” he heard himself say. “Have a safe flight back and hug that daughter of mine when you see her, will you?”

She chuckled as her face lit up, and the sound flitted through parts of his body. “Of course I will. You know, Wilson, you’re a good father.”

“I’ve always tried to be.” He paused a moment then said, “Good-bye, Rita.”

“Good-bye, Wilson.” She then used her pass key to unlock the door and he began to walk off.

He told himself to keep walking and not look back, and could attribute a number of things to the reason he suddenly stopped. It could have been the absence of the sound of the door opening and closing shut behind her, or the need to see her one last time even if it was just a glimpse of her fleeing back.

But when he turned, what he saw gave him pause. Had him groaning silently. Rita was looking directly at him and there was a need he saw in the depths of her eyes that probably matched his own. A need that was twenty years in the making for him. The smile was gone and the intense look shaping her mouth and the longing in the deep set of her gaze almost froze him in place.