Fallen Angel (12 page)

"Thomas, we can’t just use each other. It wouldn’t be right."

"This isn’t about using, Geneva. It’s about substance. It’s about mutual respect and admiration. It’s about having balance in our lives. It’s about feeling empowered and strengthened as individuals. It’s about being happy and together, instead of lonely and alone. It’s about honest caring between two adults."

"You are crazy."

"Only with wanting you," he ground out.

"I’m not the right woman for you."

"You’re the woman I want." And you’re the woman I will have, he thought. "You’re the woman who belongs in my life and in my bed."

"Listen to me!" she exclaimed.

"I am listening, Geneva, and all I’m hearing is fear and apprehension. And no explanations about why you’re running scared."

"Of course, I’m apprehensive. Who wouldn’t be? I don’t want to get hurt."

"You care about me."

"Of course, I care, but… "

"Another smoke screen, Geneva?" he countered relentlessly.

"Stop this!" She closed her hands into fists, glaring at him.

"Deny it if you feel you must, but you care about me in ways that surprise and terrify you. And I care a hell of a lot about you. We’d be making love, not just having sex. Tell me I’m wrong," he invited. "And then tell me you don’t want me."

"This is the most ridiculous conversation I’ve ever had with a man!" she protested. "It ends right now."

Determined to make some kind of tangible inroad with Geneva, Thomas didn’t let himself overreact. Too much was riding on her willingness to participate in what he knew was a shocking solution to the impasse they’d reached. Overt, no holds barred seduction, he’d finally concluded, might be his only way to begin dismantling the invisible barriers around her heart.

For his part, Thomas intended to do whatever he deemed necessary, up to and including lulling her into a false sense of emotional safety, because his ultimate goal was an honorable one. He wanted a commitment from the lady herself. A commitment that he knew she was capable of making if she would risk trusting him.

"I consider it to be an enlightened and intelligent approach to our dilemma."

"We do not have a dilemma. The only thing we have is your refusal to accept my reluctance to complicate our lives. That’s not a dilemma. That’s you being pigheaded."

He waved his hand dismissively. "Call it whatever you like, but I want you and you want me. And you still have the problem you won’t discuss with me. I respect you too much to unearth the truth through my own sources, but we both know I’m capable of doing just that if you force my hand."

She gave him a look that sizzled with outrage. "You’d have me investigated? How dare you!"

"I’ll dare anything to stop your misguided attempt to slam the door on me, all because of some unknown problem. The solution is obvious. We circumvent the problem and move forward. We make love. We share our lives. We do this until you decide to trust me or until you get bored with having me as your lover. If either one of those things happens, we wish each other well and we remain friends."

"That’s so cold–blooded."

"There’s nothing even remotely chilly about what I want from you, Geneva. It’s hot, combustible, and damn near about to drive me over the edge. You belong in my life and in my bed. It’s obvious that an affair is all you’re willing to offer me. So be it. I accept your terms."

She blinked in surprise.

He took a tactical left turn. "We’ll have an affair, since that’s what you want, but no more hedging and no more games. I won’t play them any longer. I’m forty, not fourteen. I take you seriously, and I take the situation between us even more seriously. I expect you to afford me the same courtesy."

She appeared close to fainting. "I do want you, Thomas. I’m barely sleeping through the night, I want you so much," she blurted out in that seductive low voice that echoed in his head whenever he was alone.

Finally
! "Are you afraid of me?"

Although she seemed off–balanced by the question, she shook her head.

"Good. We’re finally making progress. Now, are you tired enough of the loneliness to do something about it?"

Geneva hesitated.

"Are you?" he pressed.

"Yes, but I…"

Thank you, God, he thought. "Then why hesitate now?" he hammered right back.

"What if one of us falls in love?" she whispered.

I am falling in love.
Oddly enough, he felt no apprehension, just a profound sense of certainty that he’d found his mate. "Why don’t we cross that bridge if and when we actually come to it?" he suggested, the self–confident and deadly calm litigator much in evidence now.

"I need to think about this."

"Fine. Think about it. I’ll see you tomorrow at the store. You can give me your answer then."

Still looking stunned, Geneva preceded Thomas to the front door. Although he wanted to reassure her that she could trust him and his motives, he refrained. He knew she was reeling emotionally at the moment, and he’d never been the kind of man to overplay his hand. He loved her enough to take any and all risks, however.

After shrugging into his jacket and stepping into his boots, he turned, drew her into his arms, and molded her to him so that she would have no doubt about his desire for her. Clasping her face between his palms, he kissed her. He kissed her at his leisure, as though he had all the time in the world to spare, and then some. He kissed her possessively, passionately, and with the kind of claim–staking thoroughness that spoke of the depth of his feelings for her. He released her with great reluctance, studied her for a lingering moment, and then jerked open the front door of the chalet.

As he strode to his car, he knew without glancing back that she still had her fingertips pressed to her lips, her body quaked with arousal, and her emotions were in complete disarray.

Thomas’s intention had been to shock Geneva, and he knew he had. Hell, he’d shocked himself, but he could no longer abide the secrets she insisted on keeping, the very same secrets she used to hold him at a distance.

As far as Thomas Coltrane was concerned, tomorrow wouldn’t arrive soon enough.

A heavy gust of icy wind pummeled Geneva as she made her way from her car to the shop the following morning. The cold air and single digit mercury reading promised additional snow before the end of the day.

Shutting the front door behind her, Geneva deposited her purse on the counter and unbuttoned her heavy coat. When she spotted Rose, who came bustling out of the storeroom at top speed, she smiled.

"Good morning. You’re here bright and early."

Rose nodded. "I certainly am, and it’s a good thing. Those people from the Whitney Group in New York never look at a clock before they call us. They wanted to confirm their meeting with you for tomorrow morning. I told the secretary you’d ring them back if anything interfered with the schedule."

"I’ll call and confirm with them first thing." Geneva’s smile widened to a grin. "I still can’t quite believe the negotiations have proceeded this far, but I’m definitely ready to see Talmadge, Inc. transformed into a nationwide chain."

Rose pressed her hands together, her usual smile absent.

Geneva noticed her worried expression. "What’s wrong? I thought you approved of all my plans for the business."

"Oh, I do, but there’s a problem. Hadley Martin’s secretary stopped by right after I got off the phone with the Whitney people. She was on her way to the hospital to see her boss."

"Not his heart again?" Geneva said, alarmed because of his history of coronary problems.

Rose nodded. "He’s had a heart attack. It happened last night at his daughter’s birthday party."

"How bad?"

"Moderate, according to his secretary, but Hadley’s doctor has confined him to bed for the next week. He needs triple by–pass surgery, and he can’t put it off any longer. If I know his wife as well as I think I do, then he’ll be having it in short order."

"Would you call the florist for me and order a bouquet for him while I deal with New York? I can’t move forward in the negotiations without Hadley, so I’ll have to put everything on hold for the time being."

"That might not be necessary, Geneva," said the older woman, her gaze straying to the back of the store.

Geneva glanced in the same direction. She tensed as Thomas strolled out of her office, a file in his hand. Feeling wary, she watched him approach.

He reminded her of a stalking predator. She already felt like his prey. After the previous night, a sleepless night during which she’d wrestled with her feelings and desire for Thomas, and now this situation with her lawyer, she didn’t need any more complications.

After placing the file on a nearby counter, he signed a greeting. "At the risk of sounding like an ambulance chaser, I think I can help."

She glanced at the distinctive yellow folder. Because she recognized it, her gaze slashed to Rose, who flushed.

The older woman hurriedly explained, "Thomas stopped by this morning to help me move some heavy boxes in the storeroom. He was here when the call came in from New York and when Hadley’s secretary stopped by. He put two and two together, so I thought he might be able to fill in for Hadley. The file was on your desk, and I didn’t think you’d object if he took at look at it… " Her voice trailed off.

She knew Rose meant well, but Geneva felt trapped and more than a little annoyed at this invasion into her business affairs.
Affairs
. She winced inwardly, then decided that other people’s good intentions would be her undoing.

"Why don’t we sort this out in your office?" Thomas suggested. "Rose can handle your customers while we talk."

Two shoppers walked into the shop, as if on cue. Retrieving her purse, Geneva managed a curt nod and marched stiff–backed to the rear of the store.

Thomas rescued the file, gave Rose a reassuring look, and followed Geneva to her office.

Once she took off her coat and poured herself a cup of coffee, she took a seat at her desk and faced Thomas. He settled into a chair opposite her. She noticed that he didn’t seem at all fazed by her obvious irritation with him. Damn the man!

"Don’t be too upset with Rose," he said. "She was just trying to help."

"I’m not upset with her. I know
she
meant well."

"While I have an agenda?"

So much for stating the obvious, she thought. "Don’t you?"

"Guilty, ma’am."

"You look positively thrilled with yourself, and not in the least repentant," she accused.

He chuckled, not bothering to issue a denial. "Actually, what I am is impressed. By you and Hadley Martin, who is an excellent attorney, by the way. He’s orchestrated everything up until now in your favor. And it isn’t as if the Whitney Group has any slouches on its executive staff. I know, because my partner dealt with them a few years back during an acquisition involving one of our clients. That said, it’s clear you’re entering a critical stage in the negotiation process. The retention of control and maintaining consistent standards in each store are obviously key issues at stake now."

Surprised and pleased by his accurate summary of the situation, Geneva nodded. "The first question I have to answer is whether I go it alone or put them off. The meeting’s tomorrow morning."

"Your other option is sitting across from you."

"I wouldn’t want to impose."

"You aren’t. I’m offering, and you’ll get a bill for services rendered."

Geneva slowly exhaled.

Thomas got up from his chair and helped himself to a cup of coffee from the coffeemaker atop the file cabinet. His steady gaze on Geneva, he walked—no, she thought—he prowled back to his chair, although he didn’t sit down.

"You’ve done this kind of thing before, I assume," she said, buying a little time in order to weigh her options.

The thought of entangling him in her professional life made her a tad uneasy. Not because she doubted his competence, but because she felt emotionally defenseless where he was concerned.  And forget being obligated in any way, shape, or form to the man!

Thomas nodded in reply to her question as he settled back in his chair, took a sip of the steaming brew, and then slid the mug onto her desk. "Many times, Geneva. It’s a chess game, pure and simple."

"It’s also a war of nerves, Counselor."

He grinned, looking almost boyish at the prospect of a major legal tussle. "I like a challenge, but you already know that, don’t you?"

She ignored his question. It was personal.
Not going there, thank you very much
.

"With the meeting scheduled for tomorrow morning, will you have enough time to prepare?" she asked.

"Shouldn’t be a problem."

"I have additional information on the Whitney Group from Nicholas that you’ll want to review. My position regarding quality control of products with the Talmadge, Inc. label is non–negotiable. They know precisely what I expect from them, and I want my expectations itemized in the contract. As well, I want a board position, a fifty–one percent share of the stock, and their guarantee that Talmadge, Inc. retail outlets will be corporate controlled by regional staffs that I oversee at my discretion. They don’t know that I am also willing to act as a spokesperson for the chain of stores, nor do they know that I’ll back away from my request for a board seat, provided, of course, that they meet my other terms."

He nodded. "Bottom line, you get what you’re asking for, with a few deal sweeteners for good measure tucked in your hip pocket if you need them, or you’re taking yourself out of the game," he finished for her.

"Exactly. They came to me, because they want me and what I’ve created. A piece of my pie is preferable, according to their Board of Directors, to no pie at all. I don’t need the Whitney Group, and they know it. I can achieve what they’re proposing on my own, but that’s the equivalent of reinventing the proverbial wheel. If I can avoid it, I’d prefer it that way."

"What about your partner? Does he need to sign off on my filling in for Hadley?"

She frowned. "How did you know I have a partner?"