The One Who Got Away (2 page)

Ben watched as Taylor's eyes dilated, the pale blue shrinking to a thin halo. Her lips parted, revealing the tops of her even, white teeth. Her cheeks turned from pastel pink to dark, and he thought of her breasts, remembering clearly the shape of her nipples, the color of her areoles matching exactly her blush.

He let his gaze wander to her lips: plump, glistening, inviting, then down her remarkable neck, long and elegant, like Audrey Hepburn's, only Taylor was
blond, a real blonde, with long straight hair that flowed down her back, that rippled in the artificial lights of the lobby. Her figure had changed, all for the better. At eighteen, she'd been so slender he'd been afraid of hurting her. Now, her hips had become womanly, her breasts a perfect handful. But she still had the silky skin of a teenager.

That weekend so long ago had rocked his world. Had made him realize what making love could be. Had taken him from fair-to-middling to a pretty damn skilled lover. He'd remembered it from time to time, always with a smile. But he'd never once thought there could be a repeat. Time and life had a way of softening the edges of memories. He had no desire to refocus, to see the inevitable chinks and flaws that ride along with reality.

Oh, who was he kidding. He'd beg if he had to.

“W
E'D BETTER
get out there,” Taylor said. “They probably have the cab ready.”

“Right.” Ben waited until she started walking toward the front entrance to move next to her, to place his hand at the small of her back. He felt her shiver as he touched her.

She cleared her throat. “So you're living in New York.”

“Yep. Manhattan.”

“I love that city. Where?”

“What used to be called Hell's Kitchen. Now it's almost as trendy as Tribeca.”

“You must hate that.”

“I do. But there's nothing to be done. I've got my office in the same building, two stories down. I don't want to move.”

“What's it like being a private eye?”

“It's just like in the movies. Smoky bars, jazz playing in the background, fallen women, men with dark pasts and unregistered guns.”

“Cute,” she said, as they got outside.

The heat shocked him again, like when he'd come from the airport. Not that it wasn't hot in Manhattan, but here it didn't stick to your skin like wet towels.

Taylor must have noticed his reaction. “It was in the low seventies when I left this morning,” she said. “Oh, there they are.”

Steve was standing beside a Yellow Cab. “You're in San Francisco, right?”

She nodded. “Right near Lombardi. The apartment is too expensive, but I love riding my bike there.”

“Ten speed?”

“Honda Shadow.”

He stopped short. A motorcycle? Interesting. “You'll have to tell me all about it.”

Before she slid into the cab, she smiled at him. “Oh, I plan to.”

He watched her maneuver onto the back seat, which was quite a feat considering the tightness of her dress. She did well, very much the lady. But he had a feeling that was only for show. At least he hoped so.

Steve got in beside her, and Ben got in front. The ride to the Venetian wasn't long. It would have been shorter, but for the masses of tourists. Still, it was better than trying to get through Manhattan on a busy evening.

He'd never been to the Venetian, and was impressed with the high arched ceilings and the frescos on the walls. Even the floor tiles were European and stately, somehow managing to appear subdued and classy. After a long walk past a lot of high-end shops, through the casino, they arrived at the café.

Steve ushered them inside, past a considerable line, into the large, beautifully decorated restaurant. It also had decked-out ceilings, fancy floors and great leather
booths. The bar looked as if it served expensive martinis, but the crowd seemed happy and from what he could see on the plates held aloft by the waitstaff, no one would leave hungry.

A waitress showed them to their booth, and he slid in next to Taylor. It was roomy, which wasn't necessarily a good thing when one was sitting beside a woman in a tiny dress. But he wasn't going to go there. Not yet, at least. Tonight was for Steve.

The happy couple kissed after they got their menus. Steve smiled broadly, Lisa more conservatively, but that didn't mean anything. She opened her menu and studied it carefully, her brows furrowing slightly as if the choice was crucial.

Ben glanced down, only it would take more than a glance to get through the choices in the book they called a menu. He decided on something he could always trust, a New York Sirloin steak and baked potato.

Their waitress took their drink orders, and then it was just the four of them.

“All right,” Taylor said, putting her menu aside. “I want to hear it all. Omit nothing. How you met, when you fell in love, why you decided to get married in Vegas, the whole nine yards.”

Steve laughed and Lisa gave a tentative grin. But then Lisa was the stranger amongst them, and that had to be hard.

Ben liked Taylor's style. Come right out with it. No beating around the bush. She'd always been like that, since the time she was a little kid, demanding to play touch football when she could hardly hold the
ball. The only time she'd been reticent had been that last weekend, but he figured it was the newness of the situation. He imagined that had changed.

“We met on the
Turquoise Mermaid,
” Steve said. “Her dad was fishing and Lisa decided to join him and his buddies for the day. She didn't fish, which turned out to be a good thing because we started talking and just kept right on going.”

“I hadn't even wanted to go,” Lisa said, leaning in to the table, her eyes brighter now that they were on a subject she could dive into. “But my father insisted, although he was with Trent Foster and Cal Peterson. Cal brought his wife, Annie, who is closer to my age than his, so Daddy dragged me along. But Annie got horribly seasick, and she didn't want to talk to anyone, which left me free to concentrate on the wildly handsome skipper.”

Steve's grin widened. “I got so involved with Lisa it almost cost her father a swordfish. But we nailed him.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Didn't we?”

“We? I got as far away as I could. I had no idea swordfish were so big and so dangerous.” She settled back in the booth. “At least we won't have to worry about that anymore.”

Taylor didn't like the sound of that. “What do you mean?”

“She means I'm letting Larry take over the management of the fleet,” Steve said. “Once we're married, I'm moving to Kansas. Her dad's offered me a hell of a good job in sales and marketing. I don't know much about the aerospace industry yet, but I'm
learning. They make seals, connectors, gaskets, that kind of thing. Real high-end stuff, the highest temperature seals in the industry. I'll be traveling a lot. Except for missing Lisa, I think it'll be great. I mean, they have this major air show in France every year. Of course, she'll come with me.”

Taylor was grateful the waitress arrived with their drinks so she had a moment to absorb what she'd just heard. Her brother hated working in an office. He'd built his life around the freedom of the sea. This was a complete one-eighty, and it made her nervous as hell. She sipped her Cosmopolitan, glanced at Ben, whose expression mirrored her own concern. “So Larry's going to run the fleet, huh? You're okay with that?”

Steve's grin faltered. “Yeah, sure. He'll do a great job. He's been with me for six years now, and he knows everything about the job.”

“But Kansas?” Taylor leaned in, trying like hell to make Steve look her in the eyes. “No sailing? No fishing? It's what you love best in all the world.”

“He won't miss it,” Lisa said. “And we'll visit San Diego often enough for him to keep his sea legs. You know how bright he is, though, and it's a shame to waste that on fishing. He has a brilliant career in front of him. I'm sure one day he'll take over the company. My father always wanted a son, and now he'll have one.”

“You had no interest in the business?” Ben asked.

Lisa laughed. “God, no. I have my own interior design firm. I've done some of the largest homes in Wichita.”

“Really?” Taylor said, her concern deepening by the second.

“Oh, yes. I absolutely love it. My mother works with me, and we have a wonderful assistant, Renee. Right now I work out of mother's house, but when Steve and I build our home, we'll include an office. That way, when we have children, I'll be able to be nearby all the time.”

“Wow. It sounds like you've got the whole thing worked out.”

“We do,” Steve said. “Like Lisa says, it's time for me to grow up. Take on the real world. I can't be Peter Pan forever.” He kissed her again, lightly on the cheek.

The waitress came back to take their dinner orders. Taylor stole another look at Ben, and he wasn't disguising his worry in the least. Lisa seemed like a very nice woman and all, but this was nuts. Steve would be miserable working in sales. He hated that kind of thing, and without an ocean nearby, he'd go stir-crazy.

“It seems like all this happened pretty damn fast,” Ben said.

“It all just fell into place,” Steve said. He held on to his drink with both hands. “I'd been thinking a lot about my life, what I was doing with it. Sure, it's fun helping a bunch of rich guys catch trophy fish, but, I don't know…”

“My father took to him from the moment they met.” Lisa smiled. “Just like I did. He saw the potential in Steve. He's a brilliant salesman. There's no
reason on earth he can't use those talents in the real world. He could take Daddy's business to the top.”

“It sounds lucrative.”

“Oh, yeah.” Steve nodded. “I'll be making more than I ever dreamed of.”

“I didn't know you dreamed about money.” Taylor wished she could say more, remind him of how he'd laughed at all those poor schmucks chasing a dime. But it wasn't the time or the place. She needed to think. If this truly was the direction Steve wanted to go, then who was she to butt in? Although it felt wrong. Seriously wrong.

“Of course I think about money. Who doesn't? I mean, if it was just me, it wouldn't matter. But with a wife and kids… How could I put the time into the boats? You know the life. Living at the pier, away for days at a time, no regular schedules.”

“I suppose so,” she said.

Ben lifted his glass. “To new roads.”

She joined in the toast, all the while feeling like her brother wasn't heading down a new road, but off a cliff.

 

B
EN HELD THE TAXI DOOR
for Taylor, unable to look away from the expanse of thigh her short dress revealed. Despite his genuine and deep concern for his friend, a large part of him had been preoccupied with the woman at his side. No matter what was happening with his frontal lobe, the primal part of his brain had locked on to Taylor, her scent, the way her hair cascaded down her shoulder, the curve of her breasts.

His plan was to ditch Steve and Lisa, which wasn't
going to be too difficult, as Lisa had already said she was beat, and get Taylor to himself. So they could talk. That's all. Talk about Steve.

Steve paid off the cab, then turned to the small group. “We're going to our room. We have to be up at the crack of dawn to pick up Lisa's mom at the airport.”

“When's our mom coming in?” Taylor asked.

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

“Do you need me to get her?”

“Nope, we have it covered.” Steve kissed his sister on the cheek. “But thanks. Why don't you and Ben go have some fun? Win a little dough.”

“Right,” she said. “You know how lucky I am with cards.”

Steve laughed. “Okay, so don't play poker.”

“I still maintain that you cheat every chance you get.”

He held his hand up to his chest as if shocked. “Me? Never.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Thanks for the dinner, you two. We'll catch up with you tomorrow,” Ben said.

“Great.”

Lisa said good-night, then took Steve's hand. Taylor watched them walk into the hotel. Ben watched Taylor.

“This is weird as hell,” he said, as soon as they'd entered the lobby.

“I'll say. Did you have any idea?”

He shook his head. “Last I heard, he was thinking about buying another boat.”

“He asked me to quit my damn boring job and come work for him. He said I was a fool for wasting my life,” Taylor added.

“So what changed?”

Taylor shook her head. “Love?”

“I don't know…”

Ben wanted to touch her again, as he had on the way out. Gently, palm to the small of her back. He wanted to feel her quiver. Instead, he put his hands in his pockets.

“I want to talk to Mom about it,” Taylor said. “Maybe she knows.”

“Good idea.” He stopped just before they reached the main casino floor. “Are you too tired for a drink? We could go outside by the pool.”

She smiled and he thought he detected a slight blush. “That sounds great.”

“Good.” He took her hand, which might have been better than touching her back, and led her through the youngish crowd. Everyone was on the right side of dressy, trying to look hip. The music, loud enough to make people shout to be heard, was only the coolest rock. Right now they were playing Stevie Ray Vaughn from his second album. Although there were lots of people playing video poker and slots, they were mostly silent, concentrating on whatever voodoo they had to mesmerize the machines. The real hubbub came from the craps tables.

Ben and Taylor threaded through the winners and losers until they got to a hall leading past a couple of high-end restaurants, to the door to the pool. A
guard stood at the exit, and they had to show their room keys.

After that, they stepped into a lush, green paradise. The pool area, one of the prettiest in Vegas, had a lot of night swimmers gliding about, mostly by the swim-up bar and the water blackjack tables. But that's not where Ben wanted to be. He led Taylor past the purple lounge chairs and the swaying palms 'til they passed the huge bar. Once there, they climbed a few steps to reach the cabana level. He hoped he'd find one empty, and luck was with him. During the day, the cabanas could be rented for a bundle, but after ten, if you were lucky, you could homestead. The refuse from another party still cluttered the small round table, but that wasn't a problem.

He ushered Taylor to one of the green padded chairs, and he sat next to her. The television in the corner was off, which was what he wanted, and the overhead fan was on, creating a nice breeze in the semiprivate space. He'd like it even better if he could close the curtain, but he didn't want to scare her.

“This is unbelievable,” she said. “I haven't been here before, but I'd heard about the cabanas.”

“They're not easy to reserve,” he said, “although sometimes you can get lucky.”

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. It was a sight he wouldn't soon forget. The long stretch of bare thigh, the perfection of her knee, the subtle curve of her calf. To say nothing of the arch of her foot, and the seduction of her high black heel. He felt as mesmerized as a compulsive gambler staring at a royal flush.