Breeze off the Ocean (19 page)

“Are you all right, princess?” Bruce asked, a frown creasing his forehead.

“Yes, of course, I’m sorry.” Micki was instantly contrite. For heaven’s sake, she chided herself, a sarcastic mouth won’t solve anything. Lowering her eyes, she murmured, “You haven’t even left yet.”

“I knew it,” Regina wailed in dismay. “I knew it was too soon after her homecoming to go away.”

“No, Regina, really,” Micki rushed to assure her. “I don’t mind. I guess I’m still a little washed out from yesterday.”

Bruce’s eyes flicked from his wife to his daughter, an indecisive expression on his face. While Wolf sat silently, his eyes narrowing on Micki.

“Bruce,” Regina said softly, “maybe with the wedding coming up this isn’t the best time—”

“This is the perfect time,” Wolf interrupted quietly. “If anyone has earned a vacation, you two have.” His glance, cold and hard, sliced back to Micki. “You leave the ‘princess’ to me.”

“We-ell, if you’re positive,” Bruce asked hopefully.

“I’m positive,” Wolf replied in a hard tone. Then, his tone lighter, he grinned. “By the time you get back, all the arrangements will have been made and you can sit back and enjoy watching me hang myself.”

Bruce and Regina returned his grin and the bad moment was past, except for Micki, who wanted very badly to slap Wolf’s face.

* * * *

The jet made its charge down the runway and then it was airborne, its nose lifting regally toward the sky. Biting her lip, Micki watched the plane until it was swallowed up into the sun-splashed expanse of blue.

“Come on, Micki,” Wolf chided dryly. “I’ll take you home and let you cry on my shoulder.”

Micki flinched away from his voice and the hand he placed at the back of her waist. Ignoring the hard thump her heart gave at the forbidding lines his face set into, Micki moved away from him quickly. At the car she again shook off his helping hand and slid onto the seat without looking at him. The way he palmed the gear lever as he shot out of the parking area told her clearly how angry she’d made him.

The silence was broken only one time on the drive back to her home. That was when he asked, “Would you like to stop for dinner?” And she answered, “No, thank you.”

When he stopped the car in front of the house and reached for his door release, she said sharply, “Please, don’t bother to get out I’m tired, I have to work tomorrow and I’m going to bed.”

She could feel his icy eyes boring into her back until she closed the front door and heard the car roar away from the curb.

The week that followed was nerve-racking for Micki. Business was slow at a time she very badly needed to keep busy. Wolf did not come to the house or call all week, and by Sunday night she had to mentally chide herself to stop pacing.

What was he trying to do? She had heard him tell her father that all the arrangements would be made when he and Regina got back and they would be home in one more week. Was he trying to upset her? Make her nervous? The questions tormented her as she paced from room to room, tired but too uptight to sit still.

Monday afternoon, busy at last checking over the arrival of a shipment of clothes purchased for the holiday season, Micki went into the shop to question Jennell on an item, not bothering to look up when the door opened.

“On your toes,” Jennell drawled softly. ‘The boss just walked in with a very enticing piece on his arm.”

Glancing up, Micki felt her stomach flip and heard her breath hiss through her dry lips. Cool, relaxed Wolf walked toward her, his head bent slightly to one side as he listened to what the woman beside him said. A small smile playing at his lips, he nodded, then lifted his head to stare coolly into Micki’s eyes.

“Hello, Jennell.” Wolf’s smile deepened. “This is Brenda Rider, Micki’s replacement.”

During the short, shocked silence that followed Wolf’s announcement, Micki felt her hands go cold while her temper flared red hot.

“Micki’s re—?” Jennell stopped short, her eyes flying to Micki’s. “You’re leaving?”

“Yes,” Wolf answered for her. “To get married.” A wicked light sprang into his eyes as he tacked on casually. “To me.”

“Married!”

“Married!”

Jennell’s outcry was echoed by Lucy, who at that moment came out of the stockroom to see what was keeping Micki.

“But she never said a word, “Jennell moaned. Turning reproachful eyes on Micki, she asked, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I think I can answer that.” Wolf again answered for her. “Micki wanted an easy, comfortable working relationship with you girls and she was afraid if she told you that would not be possible.”

“Yes, I see,” Jennell murmured, then, her eyes widening in alarm, she gasped. “Oh, Micki, that first day, I told you about—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Micki, fully aware that Jennell was referring to the previous buyer, cut in hastily. “It’s of no importance really.” Ignoring the questioning look Wolf leveled at her, she turned to the woman with him. “How do you do, Brenda. I’m, as you heard, Micki and this is Jennell and Lucy.” A small devil taking sudden possession of her, Micki lifted her hand, waved it in a shooing motion at Wolf and ordered, “Go away, Wolf, we’ll take care of Brenda.”

Another small silence followed Jennell’s and Lucy’s barely concealed gasps. Smiling sardonically, Wolf walked up to Micki, bent his head, and kissed her soundly on the mouth. When he lifted his head he grinned wickedly before, strolling to the door, he drawled, “You’re the boss, baby—for now.”

When she left the shop he was waiting for her, as she knew he would be. Falling into step beside her, he said, “We’re having dinner together. I think it’s time we talked.”

He took her to a small, elegant, dimly lit dining room in another casino hotel. As it was still fairly early, only two of the room’s tables were occupied, and given their choice of empty tables, Wolf indicated his preference for a secluded corner on the far side of the room. As they waited for their pre-dinner drinks, Micki’s eyes scanned the room, the other diners, the black-jacketed waiter, everywhere but Wolf’s face. When the drinks were served, Micki smiled vaguely at the waiter and studied his slender, retreating form, wondering irrelevantly if he had to lay flat on his back to close his skintight pants.

“Now that you’ve done a complete inventory of the place and its occupants,” Wolf inquired dryly, “do you think you could force your attention in this direction?”

Micki turned her head slowly, a disdainful expression on her face. Her icy glance didn’t quite come off, however, as the flush that tinged her cheeks robbed it of its effect. Wolf, sipping at his martini, watched Micki intently, which deepened the heat in her face even more. Unable to maintain his narrow-eyed survey, Micki lowered her eyes to the glass of Merlot in front of her. His soft, weary-sounding sigh drew her eyes back to his.

“How did it go with Brenda this afternoon?” His even tone warned her he was just about at the end of his patience.

“Very well,” she answered tightly, not even trying to hide her resentment. “As I’m very well aware you knew it would.”

“Cool it, Micki,” he advised softly. “We’re not going to get anywhere if you keep this attitude.”

“What gives you the idea I want to get anywhere?” she asked coldly.

“Calm down, babe.” Wolf cautioned. “Okay, you’re steamed, but damn it, Micki, I want you to stop working.”

“I will not be ordered—” She broke off as the waiter approached their table to take their dinner orders. The minute he’d walked away again, Micki snapped angrily, “I will not be ordered around.”

“And I told you I don’t want my wife working,” Wolf snapped back.

“I’m not your wife yet.” Micki had to speak very softly to keep from shouting. “And I don’t want—”

“I don’t particularly care what you want,” Wolf cut across her soft voice coldly. “It’s done, you’ve been replaced, face it. Face this as well, there is no way you’re getting out of this marriage, I want what’s mine, and I usually get what I want.”

“Spoken like a dyed-in-the-wool spoiled brat,” Micki sneered. “It must be wonderful to be rich.”

“It sure as hell beats being poor,” Wolf taunted, his lips twitching with amusement. “I’ll give you six months then ask you if you agree.” Then his face sobered and the near-smile disappeared. “You may have anything your tiny little heart desires as my wife, Micki.”

For some reason the hard emphasis he’d placed on the word
tiny
caused a sharp pain in the area mentioned. Hating the idea that he could hurt her so effortlessly, Micki taunted nastily, “In exchange for one child?”

“Precisely,” Wolf answered coldly.

Once again they fell silent as the waiter served their meal. Staring at the food disinterestedly, Micki felt her eyes burning suddenly with a rush of memories. How totally different this was compared to the makeshift meals they had laughingly prepared and shared that long-ago weekend.

Automatically Micki put food in her mouth, chewed without tasting, desperately loving the Wolf she’d known then, desperately trying to hate the Wolf who sat opposite her now. When he spoke, his tone had thawed, but the taunting note remained.

“Would you care to hear my family’s history?”

“If I must.” Glancing up sharply, Micki leveled an accusing look at him. “I’ve been working for you right along, haven’t I?”

“I honestly didn’t know it, Micki.” Wolf’s tone held the clear tone of truth. “I seldom bother with the shops in any way. Not, that is, until the last few months.”

‘The previous buyer?” Micki asked over-sweetly.

‘The previous buyer,” he agreed calmly. “She was no babe-in-the-woods; she knew the score. I suspect her vision was clouded by dollar signs. When she became possessive, I shipped her out.” He paused, one brow raised as if asking if there were any questions. When mere were none, he continued. “As I had done the shipping, I was given the job of replacing. I asked for a list of qualified possibles; your name was on it.”

“You chose me deliberately?” she asked tightly, hating the thought of the previous buyer, yet refusing to let him know.

“Yes,” Wolf answered bluntly.

“As a replacement in the store?” Micki asked smoothly. “Or—other places?”

“Don’t push it, Micki,” he warned softly.

“Okay.” Micki backed off hastily. “Commence with the history.”

“It’s a long story,” Wolf began. “But I’ll cut it to the bone. It started with my great-grandfather who, as a young man, bought an inn with rooms for overnight guests along the Lancaster Pike near Lancaster, Pennsylvania. He prospered and as he did, he bought more inns and several small hotels in the southeastern part of the state. He was a rich man by the time he declared he was ready to retire. Leaving the running of his business in the capable hands of his only child, my grandfather, he grabbed his long-patient wife and took off for Florida.”

Here his story was interrupted as the waiter came to clear the table and take their order for coffee. When that service had been completed, Wolf continued his narrative.

“Like most men who survive on work, he couldn’t rest until he’d explored the possibilities in Florida. Before he died he’d acquired six hotels along the southeast coast. When he died he was a millionaire. My grandfather followed bravely in his footsteps. Deciding to take a chance, he invested heavily in a new type of travelers’ accommodations: the motels. Payday, bonanza, and the whole bit. It was a smashingly successful venture.

“My grandfather’s marriage had produced two sons. My father,” he grinned, “Wolfgang the third, and my uncle Eric, who was ten years his junior. Eric was killed in the last days of Vietnam. His death triggered a heart attack that killed my grandfather a few months later. As Eric was childless, the growing monster, as we called the family business, went to my father. Here’s where my mother enters the picture. Working beside him, she learned the business inside out. My father had one passion besides my mother. He loved to sail. He was drowned, blown overboard, during a yacht race off the coast of South America. That left my mother and the rest of us to manage the business.”

“The rest of you?” Micki probed.

“My father had better luck than his father and grandfather,” Wolf supplied. “I have two brothers and a sister. My sister’s the baby.” Taking a test sip of his coffee, he glanced around the now-crowded room. “Family history to be continued,” he said quietly. “Drink your coffee, Micki, and let’s get out of here.”

They were quiet as they left the hotel, the silence broken only when Wolf asked if Micki would like to gamble for a while before going home. Her only answer was a sharp shake of her head, which he accepted without comment.

“Go on with your story,” Micki urged as soon as they’d left the heaviest traffic behind. “Or should I say your saga?”

“Got you interested against your will,” Wolf taunted gently. “Didn’t I?”

His soft, teasing tone did strange things to her breathing and for a flashing instant she ached all over for the feel of his arms around her. The mere thought of his mouth against hers drew a low moan from her throat that she somehow managed to turn into a whispered,
“Yes.”

“Where was I?” he asked himself. “Oh, yes, my brothers and sister. Eric is thirty-four, dark, unbelievably handsome and married to a rather plain, incredibly lovely woman we all adore. They have two fair-haired, beautiful little girls. Eric takes care of the southeast, and now Honolulu, operations.”

“Where does he live?” Micki asked when he stopped to draw a deep breath.

“Near Miami,” Wolf replied. “Brett is thirty-one, taller than I, very slim, fair like our mother, not quite as handsome as Eric, and married one year to a vivacious redheaded ex-flight attendant. They have no children— too busy having fun. They live in Atlanta. Brett handles things in the mid-Atlantic coastal area. While I, as you’ve probably figured out by now, take care of the northeast coastal area business.”

“Is your mother retired?” Micki interjected.

“My mother?” Wolf laughed. “Hardly. At sixty-one, she is still beautiful, energetic, and she holds the reins on the rest of us with iron control. She saw the potential in condominiums a long time ago. It was through her that the company branched out to include them. Now”—he shot her a smile that made her heart skip—I’ve covered everyone but Diane. As I stated, Di is the baby of the outfit. She just turned thirty. She’s blond, a beautiful reflection of our mother, and every bit as headstrong. When she finished college, she told mother she wanted to do something different” He threw her a what-can-I-tell-you look. “Mother listened to her ideas, thought about it all of ten minutes, then, presto, we’re in the boutique business. Di worked like hell in the shops until going into semi-retirement when her first child was born five years ago, she has two boys. Di and her husband also live near Miami, as does our mother. Her husband took on the mantle of manager.”