Falling For Her Boss (19 page)

They found a smattering of a crowd, about thirty, gathered near the judges' box.  Francie laid her hand casually on Noah's arm, and his increased pulse rate proved no gesture was casual between them.

"I want to go downstairs for a few minutes to talk to the skaters.  Do you want to come along?"

"I've always wondered what goes on behind the scenes."

She grinned.  "Bedlam."

Noah got the idea as skaters pushed by him on their way to the dressing area or the ice.  Excitement and anticipation hummed in the air.  A young woman recognized Francie and hugged her in the middle of the hallway.  "You made it.  I'm so glad.  Chuck and I are so nervous.  It never changes, does it?  Look, everybody, look who's here!  Francie."

Noah stood to the side as one skater after another came up to Francie.  She seemed genuinely pleased to see everyone, and he realized that's why she'd come.  Because of friendship.  She sloughed off the attention and the praise, considering these people as she did everyone else, as equals.  He wondered if that's why she wasn't judging the amateur competition, if she didn't want to put herself above them.

Every few minutes, Francie would turn to Noah and introduce him to someone else.  He almost felt like part of her circle.  Almost.

When the speaker system blared, Francie wished everyone luck.  Someone thrust cups of hot chocolate into Noah's and Francie's hands and they carried them into the stands.  After they settled in, Francie warmed her nose in the cup before she took a sip.

Noah chuckled.  "Do you ever get used to the constant cold?"

Francie licked her upper lip, enticing him to bend his head and kiss her.  "I don't notice it."  She smiled.  "Permanent cold feet  are a hazard of the profession."

He remembered her foot on his calf.  Francie was warmth and heat and light; she had no coldness in her.  The remembering was a bad idea.  When her eyes switched from the ice to him, he knew she was remembering too.  Their gazes lingered, she not wanting to break away, he not able to.

She asked in almost a whisper, "Why did you come along today?  Because Pop suggested it?"

Noah's reasons for accepting Angela's invitation as well as responding to Paul's suggestion were the same, and he couldn't be anything but honest with Francie.  "Because I wanted to be with you."

Francie dropped her gaze to her lap.  "You're a difficult man to understand, Noah."

He didn't understand himself these days.  Being around Francie changed him, confused him, unnerved him.  But there was no one else he'd rather be around.  The problem was handling her company tactfully, safely, and with as much restraint as he could muster.  He turned his attention to the skaters warming up on the ice.

Francie had explained this was a dance competition, not single or pairs skating.  She explained each dance and what the judges looked for, and she applauded heartily after each couple performed. 

When he quirked a brow, she replied, "No one realizes how difficult it is to get out there in front of people and put your talent on the line.  Once I'm focused, I forget about the audience.  But it's never easy."

Francie leaned forward as the next couple skated, her gaze never leaving the woman.

"Special friend?"

Francie leaned back.  "Jennifer and I took lessons together when we were kids.  But when we were fourteen, she quit.  She wanted time to date, go to movies, be a teenager.  And now she competes as a hobby because she enjoys skating."

It sounded as if Francie envied her friend.  Noah could see Francie loved skating.  But as an art form, exercise, sheer exhilaration?  Not as a profession?  What if she did give up thoughts of figure skating?  What if she stayed in Gettysburg and he didn't sell the rink?  He could see her whenever he came to town.  Was that enough?  And what if he did sell the rink?  What if he left after Valentine's Day and never saw her again?

Noah searched her face during the competition, saw her eyes light up, her smile when a couple performed well, her frown when she noticed mistakes.  And sitting next to her was enough.  So he told himself.

After the winners were announced, Francie went to the dressing area to congratulate them.  Noah felt himself tense when the men hugged and kissed her.  She responded so freely.  The same way she responded to him?

As they left the arena, Francie shivered.  The weather had turned damper and more threatening.  Two inches of snow covered the asphalt, but it was topped with a thin sheen that crunched under Francie's boots.  Ice.

Noah opened her door for her while pinging skips of ice hit her hair.  Always the gentleman.  Where had he learned it?  With the type of background he'd suggested, she'd expect him to think of himself first.  He never seemed to.  Except when it came to his heart.  She hadn't known how to act around him yesterday, so she'd focused on her classes, handed out fliers for Valentine's Day, and finished last-minute arrangements.  The deejay from the radio station had agreed to come and broadcast from the rink from seven to nine.

She'd like to share all of it with Noah, but she wanted to surprise him more.  She needed to prove to him that community was as important as family.

When Noah pulled out onto Hershey Park Drive, Francie knew the road was treacherous.  The back wheels skidded and Noah had hardly accelerated.  They skidded again as Noah took the ramp for Route 283.  He swore sharply.

"I guess Pop was right.  I'm glad I didn't do this alone," she confessed.

"I'm surprised you're admitting it."

She watched his profile as he concentrated on driving in the hazardous conditions.  She loved the sweep of his hair across his forehead, the defined cheekbones, the strong jaw.  "Why?"

"Because you didn't seem overjoyed when he suggested it."

She'd said they had to begin a relationship with honesty.  The time was now.  "I don't know how to act around you."

He didn't take his eyes from the road.  "Just be yourself."

"That gets me into trouble.  Right now, I'd like to lay my hand on your thigh, just to feel connected."

"You're right," he muttered.  "That could get you into trouble."

The silence mocked her for being too honest as Noah drove cautiously.  The eeriness of snow and ice falling on the hood and the highway before them crawled along Francie's nerves.  Nothing like a mix of sexual tension and danger to make the hairs on her neck stand up.

Noah cleared his throat.  "How's Gina taking her grounding?"

Francie knew he wanted to make the time pass faster as much as she did.  "She knows she deserves longer than a month, but Mama's agreed to make Valentine's Day an exception.  Of course Gina will go along to Uncle Dom's for what Mama and Pop think is an anniversary dinner.  But it'll really be their surprise party."  Francie wondered if Noah would still be around for the party.

"Does Gina plan to see Jake again?"

"No, I think she's relieved he's out of her life.  She has no desire to see him again."

"She told you that?"

"We're talking more already.  It'll take time, but I think we can get close."

The swish-swish of the windshield wipers sounded in the silence.  Closeness seemed to be what Noah didn't want.  It was all Francie wanted--with him.

No cars passed them on the highway.  In fact, she didn't see anything moving at all.  No taillights ahead of them.  No headlights in back of them.  Snow fell heavier, a mixture of white and ice.  They moved at a turtle's pace.

Suddenly, the car swerved, spun, and ended up turned in the wrong direction.  Noah swore, a string of epithets that should have melted all the ice around them.  He turned to her in the dim light.  "Are you okay?"

Francie caught her breath, and as she shifted toward him, found her face almost next to his.  "I'm fine," she whispered.  "But we're going the wrong way."

He grimaced at her understatement.  "Keep your fingers crossed that I can get us turned in the right direction."

They were both aware of the undercurrent in his statement.  He thought he was responsible for their relationship, the rink, their drive home.  For the moment he was.

When Noah attempted to back up, the tires skidded.  So he made a very slow, large circle until the hood was headed the right way.  Then he pulled over onto the shoulder of the road and turned off the engine.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to get us home in one piece.  We can't do it until the road crews cinder.  So we sit here and wait until they do."  He took his hands from the wheel and switched on the flashers.

"But you turned off the heat..."

"This is a major highway, Francie, and they haven't cindered yet.  They'll have to come through soon."

"And if they don't?"

"They will."

"And in the meantime?"

"We distract each other."

That could prove interesting.  But she'd already gotten herself in trouble once.  "By playing twenty questions?"

"That's a start."

"Can I ask first?"

"You're the lady."

"That's my first question," she mumbled, already feeling the cold penetrate her layers of clothing.

"What is?"

"How did you become such a gentleman?  Do you know how rare that is these days?"  As she waited for his answer, she stared at the blinking light signaling the working flashers.  He could choose not to answer any questions and she'd sit here waiting, hoping, getting colder.

"I went to parochial school for my first two grades.  I guess the manners I learned stuck."

"It's more than that."

"You think so."  His tone was haughty, arrogant, trying to put her off.  It didn't work.

"Yes, I think so.  Why do you treat people so carefully, so respectfully?"  The dampness in the car thickened, weighing heavier, bringing the cold closer as the seconds ticked by.

"Because people deserve to be treated as if they matter.  Especially women."

She waited...and hoped some more.  Maybe it was the shadows, maybe it was being stranded, but Noah went on.

"My father walked out on my mother.  He didn't respect her enough to leave a forwarding address.  She was a singer looking for a break.  She ended up a cocktail waitress with a drinking problem that killed her.  I always felt responsible for her...for what we didn't have."

"And what didn't you have?"

His voice lowered in the inky darkness.  "We usually lived in apartments near where she worked so she didn't need a car.  Those weren't the best sections of town.  I didn't mind where we lived, but I minded people's opinions of where we lived and the judgments they made."

"That you were poor?  Uneducated?"

"That was part of it.  But it was the way men treated my mother.  She was a good woman who never got a fair shake.  She was not a tramp.  But because she sang in nightclubs, because she worked in bars, men walked all over her.  I guess she got to a point where she just didn't care."

"But you did."

"You bet I did.  I treated her with the respect she deserved and I swore I would always treat women fairly."

"Have you ever been involved in a serious relationship?"  She'd been waiting forever to ask that one.

"By serious, you mean long-term."

"I guess."

"No, I haven't."

"Why?"

"I was too busy building my business, creating financial security."

"And now?"

"Now I'm set in my ways."

His answer hung over her head like a warning cloud.  "And you don't want to change your life."  She burrowed her nose into her coat.  The cold seeped through and she began to shiver.

"Francie, patterns are difficult to break.  You just heard the way I grew up.  Two years, first and second grade, were the longest we stayed anywhere."

Her teeth wanted to chatter, but she kept them still.  "What do you think will happen if you stay in one place?"

"I'll lose my business, for one thing.  I have to stay on top of the managers."

"That depends on the managers."

He was curt.  "A business can't run itself."

"You're running your business from here with conference calls and video conferencing.  Is your business hurting because you've been here a few weeks?"

"I won't know until I make my next round of visits to see what's happening."

"Do you trust your managers?"

"I don't know them all yet.  I have to meet with the ones Craig dealt with."

Noah had trusted Craig.  From what she'd heard, he'd given him half of the responsibility.  But Craig had betrayed that trust and reinforced Noah's belief that if he wanted something done right, he had to do it himself.  Which meant traveling continuously.  At least that was the surface reason why he traveled.

She shivered again and this time couldn't keep her teeth from chattering.

As aware of her as she was of him, he knew.  "It won't do much good to turn on the engine.  We can't keep it running long enough to heat the car and keep it heated."

"I know.  Carbon monoxide poisoning."

"And we'll run out of gas."

She tried to relax so she wouldn't shiver, but she couldn't manage it.

"Take your coat off," Noah said in a monotone.

"What?"  In the shadows she could see his hands unbuttoning his overcoat.

"We're going to combine our body heat and keep warm."

She gulped.  Knowing how he felt...  "That's not necessary," she mumbled.

"Give me your hand."

When she did, he slid off her glove and curled his fingers around hers.  "You're cold.  Neither of us needs to catch pneumonia."

She knew Noah well enough to know he was determined as well as serious.  He was also right.  They couldn't drive under these conditions, but they needed warmth.  She unbuttoned her coat and shrugged it from her shoulders.

"Scoot over on your seat ," he said, his voice low and sexy.  "We'll share your space so the steering wheel's not in the way."

This was a nice-sized sedan, but the seats weren't that wide.  She moved closer to the door, wondering how they could share body heat and not share more.

Once he somehow maneuvered over the console and slid beside her, she couldn't move, she couldn't breathe.  His leg, firm and muscled against hers, his hip meeting hers, his shoulders needing more room than she could give them led her to shy away, to try to move closer to the door.