Romance in Dallas - Tycoon! (7 page)

Shrugging now, she opened her door, and
retrieved the morning paper.

Natalie called her cell phone. "Girl, did you
see the latest?"

"No, Nat. I've been sick, remember?"

"I'm sorry sweetie. I forgot. How are you
doing?"

"Much better. Seems like a twenty-four hour
thing. So, what am I supposed to see this time?"

"Society page. He's cozy with a red-haired
woman."

Jace frowned, and opened the newspaper. The
large picture showed Ramsey and a woman kissing. "Oh, my," she
said, her heart contracting. She remembered he went somewhere last
night in his tux. But the picture wasn't the same as the on-screen
woman. They both had red hair, but the one on-screen seemed
younger.

"It was some sort of fundraiser they said.
Well, at any rate, that's not why I called. We have a billing
quandary."

Still looking at the picture, Jace replied,
"What is it?"

"We received the first check from him and
he's paying for twenty-four hours a day."

"You're kidding." Jace knew this was a lot of
money.

"No. I'm not. And I'm wondering if you should
track the hours with a timesheet. I know it would be a drag for
you, but talk to him about it, okay?"

Jace said she would, and they rang off.

When Ram came back into the room, he looked
her up and down. "You seem better, sweet pea." And he walked over
and shut his laptop.

He thought her voice sounded stiff as she
said, "Need to talk to you about something." She sat in one of the
chairs by the table.

Noticing the newspaper, as he sat next to
her, he said, "Don't believe everything you read in there, sugar.
Especially with her."

She smiled slightly. "That wasn't it,
actually. It's billing."

Sitting back, he said, "What about it?"

Her voice took on a business-like tone.
"You're paying for twenty-four hours, when you should be paying for
just the hours I work. And you should pay nothing for
yesterday."

"Well," he drawled, "you're at my beck and
call for the whole day. Day and night, that is."

"I don't usually do PT at night."

"You never know." His turquoise eyes met hers
heatedly. And, she knew what was in his mind.

She found herself daydreaming about the first
night, his strong hands clutching her, drawing her close, and his
deep, probing kiss, which she'd responded to on some level. At
once, needing it, but then rejecting it as professionalism took
hold of her.

"As I've said, I don't do PT at night. So you
can take at least eight hours off the billing. We need to arrange
some firm times when I'm on call for you."

Ram sighed and stretched his feet out. He
didn't care about the money or the billing. He did care about the
longing he'd felt when he pressed the wrong button on his computer
just now, and Susan's picture came up. Like a figure haunting him
from the grave. Making him feel guilty for his desires. And he
thought another phone call to Warren might do the trick. A minute
passed.

"I'll be right back," he told her, as he
reached for his phone and went into his room.

Warren answered on the first ring. "What's
going on, Ram?"

"Now she wants to cut the billing hours. I've
been paying for twenty-four. But I get the feeling she doesn't want
to be on call for the nights."

"You can't blame her there, Ram. I wouldn't
want to, either. Be on call, I mean. It's a control thing. Seems
like she feels like she's lost control of the situation. She needs
her own time. And if you don't agree, something tells me you'll
lose her. Although, you might want to remind her, there are plenty
of other therapists who would jump at the chance to be with one of
the world's richest men."

Ram sighed. "I get the feeling that does not
impress her. Okay my man, talk to you later. And, thanks."

Jace knew she needed more rest, and while
Ramsey was out of the room, she got into bed again.

He came in a few minutes later dressed very
casually in beige chinos, a white shirt and boots, with his damp
hair combed back.

The room service arrived, bringing their
breakfasts.

"All right," Ram said, as he brought her tray
to her and sat at the table to eat his. "How about this. You'll be
on call from eight in the morning until eight at night. How's
that?" He popped a few aspirins for his headache.

She nodded, watching him.

"You like the food?" he asked her, an amused
expression on his face.

"Love it," she said, between mouthfuls. "Do
you have another headache?"

Ram nodded and smiled as he watched her eat.
Good appetite. When he was done eating, his cell phone rang. The
caller said 'private.'

"Ramsey. How are you?" a familiar voice
said.

"Victoria," he said stiffly, "how did you get
my private number?"

The woman laughed. "Oh, I have connections
everywhere. Almost as many as you have."

"Right," he replied, annoyed at the
intrusion. But his voice was level, as he said, "What can I do for
you sweetheart?"

"How long are you in Honolulu?"

"I'm not sure," he said, purposefully vague,
"my traveling companion has taken ill."

"Nothing serious, I hope," she said
sweetly.

His eyes roved over Jace appreciatively, as
she put the tray to one side, having eaten most of it, and sat now
staring at a painting on the wall. "No, nothing serious. Why? What
can I help you with?"

"I thought dinner tonight," she purred. "La
Maison?"

Ram thought he might actually take Jace there
for dinner if she was feeling better. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but I've
got plans." And he made sure to not say anything about 'next time'
to feed her hopes.

He heard her exhale sharply. "Of course. And
I truly hope your...companion feel much better very soon."

They rang off.

Jace said she needed to sleep for a while,
and he ambled back to his room where he sat trying to explain the
thing to himself.

Was it love? Was he in love with Jace after
such a short time? In a way it reminded him of his two years with
Susan. But with his wife, it had been...tamer. Less raw and
intense. He sat, brooding, until a business call brought him back
to reality.

During the afternoon, he was busy with memos
and business phone calls. Late afternoon, he found himself pacing
back and forth. Jace hadn't called him. But he didn't want to chase
around after her like a lovesick pup.

Still, he picked up the phone.

Ringing now, her cell phone woke her. "Yes,"
she said drowsily.

"I'm sorry darlin,' did I wake you up?"

Sighing, she said, "Yes. It's okay though.
I'm feeling so much better. A hundred percent."

"You sound sleepy..." his voice was soft,
almost like a caress.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed
she replied, "I need to get up and get my blood flowing." She
looked outside. "How about a walk on the beach? Good for me and
your back as well. Aerobic."

"Sounds wonderful. See you in a few."

After showering quickly, Jace dressed in
shorts, sleeveless top and walking shoes.

He knocked politely before he came in the
adjoining door. "We'll go out the back entrance to avoid the
paparazzi."

And on the way down in the elevator, she
asked him curiously, "Do they follow you everywhere?"

He smiled ruefully. "Unfortunately, yes. My
private life is hard to keep private." Looking down at her, he
said, "You're a secret. Just had the one picture of you. I don't
want you to suffer because of my fame, if you can call it
that."

Once on the beach, she realized she loved it
all. The ocean and sand beaches on one side, the huge, bustling
hotels on the other, the swoosh noise of the palm trees lining the
walkway, and the fresh air. She drew the band off her ponytail and
shook her hair out; let the breeze blow through it and lift it up
capriciously. She held her arms out, relishing the fresh air, and
turned around several times in the sand. "Don't you just love it
here?" she asked Ram, smiling, walking backwards now, watching
him.

But, Ram had a hard time answering as he
gazed at her. What a beautiful picture she made, he thought, hair
blowing in the breeze, like a cloud, her little shorts showing a
fine expanse of legs, her figure-hugging top leaving little to the
imagination.

He finally smiled. "I suppose I do, sweet
pea. Very much."

As they walked along, she found shells,
showing him each find, before she placed them carefully in her
pocket.

"You going to be hungry for dinner soon?" he
asked, as they turned to walk back to the hotel.

Looking at him quickly, she said, "I suppose
so. As long as it doesn't cut into the therapy time."

"What, honey, you don't like overtime
pay?"

Something in the tone of his voice reached
something deep inside her. And she thought she'd have to be careful
with this. "We agreed, remember? To the hours and such." Her tone
was careful, businesslike.

"No exceptions? What if we get held up?"

"I guess I'd have to see. Maybe we should
make it nine in the morning to nine at night. I'm not a morning
person anyway."

He chuckled and she knew he was making fun of
her now as he said, "Your choice, sweet pea."

He observed her, and she flipped back her
hair in annoyance. "What should I wear then?"

"Nothing," he said quickly, as he laughed and
she slapped him on the arm, as she laughed too.

"Don't count on that."

In the end, she wore a silky beige pantsuit
and heels. They went to Santelli's Italian Food, a small but
intimate little place close to his hotel.

But she noticed was how nice he looked in the
dim candlelight. He was tan, although she wondered how he did it
with his schedule. Plus he didn't seem like the type to sun himself
by the pool.

His hair was neatly combed back, his wide
shoulders strained against his light blue shirt, while a few
buttons were undone at the neck.

But the worst part for her was the way he
lounged back in his seat, calmly observing her. And she was sure he
knew the impression he made, and how it made her feel.

"Your posture is horrible," she finally told
him.

He raised his eyebrows but didn't move. "Is
that right?"

The waiter brought their lasagna then, and
she was glad for the interruption. And Ramsey finally scooted
forward in his seat.

While they ate, and chatted about his
exercises, her flu, his best friend Warren, Natalie, and a host of
other things, she realized she was finally comfortable talking with
him.

As a flash went off, he cursed, and moved
quickly towards the paparazzi, spoke with the man, and handed him a
bill.

"Don't worry about that, darlin,'" he said as
he sat back down, "I paid him off."

Back at the hotel, she went to open the door
to her room, then turned back to find his arms coming to rest
against the door on either side of her face, while his mouth was
just inches from hers.

"Have a good time, sweet pea?" he
whispered.

Her eyes came up and met his, as she smelled
mint and aftershave.

"Yes, thank you," she mumbled.

"We ready for the best part of my day?"

"Certainly. Just let me set up. About ten
minutes." And she pushed the door open, as she heard him laughing
softly.

Exactly ten minutes later, he knocked on the
adjoining door and strolled in.

She'd set up the table, and glanced at him.
"You know the drill."

He laughed, as he shucked his shirt off.
"Pants?"

"Would be best," she told him shortly.

After he lay on the table face down, she
asked him, as she squirted lotion on him and he flinched from the
cold, "How are your muscles the way they are?"

His voice already sounded hazy as she worked
on him, "What do you mean, darlin'?"

"They're just nice...I mean, toned. Well,
never mind."

She wasn't about to get into that ball of wax
and tell him the powerful muscles were hard like steel, in his back
and his arms; his buttock muscles were toned, and his leg muscles
sturdy. He almost seemed to move with her, as she massaged his fine
body with her lotions.

"I used to be in better shape," he said
quietly, "before."

Better than this? She thought. "My," was all
she could say.

Fifteen minutes passed quickly, and she said,
"Okay. That's it for today. I'm a little tired, too."

He turned towards her, on his side, fixing
her in his turquoise gaze. "Sorry, sweet pea," he whispered. There
was the tone to his voice again; it caused a heavy sensation
between her legs. But, she found she couldn't look away from his
intense stare.

He whispered still, "You turn me on, darlin.'
Every lovin' thing you do. The massage just tips it off for
me."

Wrapped in his male, aftershave scent, she
began to say something, but words left her.

Her eyes flitted over him, and she realized
as she looked below his waist, he was hard, rock hard. Turning
away, her breath came out finally. "It's time...time for you to go
now," she told him quietly.

After he gathered his things and left, she
sat on the bed and hung her head, as she sighed with
frustration.

Chapter 7

The next morning, at seven o'clock, Ram
called her. "Rise and shine, darlin,'" he said, "Going to the
Bahamas today."

"Oh my gosh," she whispered, "how soon?" And
she had the sinking feeling her clothes were all dirty.

"Nine. You'll be ready then?"

"Sure," she replied dismally, "no
problem."