When Tomorrow Comes (4 page)

He shook his head, a genuine smile on his face, then opened the trailer door for her. “Let me drive you over. I think Pedro already headed back to camp.”

They rode along in silence. Cait, having learned years ago to catch naps whenever possible, curled up in a corner, using the hard hat to cushion her head as the truck jolted over the rutted road. Within seconds, she was spiraling into sleep.

Groggily she became aware of a gentle pressure on her shoulder shaking her back into wakefulness. Strong, pliant fingers slid along the thin fabric of her shirt with a gentle touch. It was a pleasant, almost forgotten sensation, and Cait turned her head, her eyes half-opened. Dominic’s face showed concern as he leaned toward her, giving her another shake.

“When you sleep, you nose-dive,” he muttered.

She managed a vulnerable smile, sitting up in the darkened cab. Her hard hat clunked down on her thigh and then hit the floorboards. As she leaned forward to retrieve it, the pins that had held her mahogany hair in a tight knot at the nape of her neck became loosened, spilling the cascade across her shoulders and down below her breasts.

“I learned a long time ago to grab a few minutes whenever I could,” she was saying as she straightened back up. With the thick tresses soft around her face, and her eyes wide open, she suddenly felt much less an engineer and much more a woman.

Dominic’s gaze was riveted on her upturned face. He leaned forward, his fingers slipping behind her neck, drawing her into a vortex of wild sensations. Her lips parted, ready…willing to feel the touch of his mouth on hers. He brushed her lips lightly, and a small moan of pleasure slid from her throat. His fingers tightened, became more demanding, pulling her closer. This time, his strong mouth smothered her lips in a hungry, searching kiss that kindled the banked fires of her body. Cait felt the heat building rapidly, and she fought against the heady urgency forcing her to succumb to his demands. His tongue invaded her mouth, searching the warmth of her, coaxing her own tongue to seek union with his…throwing her into a mindless spin of sensation…of hungry desire on the verge of ecstasy.

Suddenly he dragged his mouth from hers, his breath ragged, his eyes narrowed with golden fire. Cait could only stare, her bruised, parted lips throbbing. She saw confusion and desire in his burning gaze and was puzzled by his reaction. He moved his hand almost apologetically from her slender neck to her shoulder and finally took it away altogether. Cait looked away,’ feeling the inner ache of what he had coaxed into life. He had already known what she now realized—it was not the time or place, and that revelation hurt. She could barely think—only feel. There were memories of Dave’s kisses…of the way he kissed and the way Dominic had forcefully awakened her desires. Cait slowly met his eyes, needing to see him.

He stroked her hair in a tender gesture. “You’ve had a long day. It’s probably better you get some sleep…” His voice was unsteady, thick.

As she murmured good night and stepped from the truck, she wondered if she had imagined the imperceptible softening around his mouth and the hungry, veiled look in his eyes. She stumbled into her quarters. A part of her gloried in that fleeting, unshielded moment when Dominic had looked at her with pure physical desire.

By late afternoon the next day, Cait broke free of the paperwork. Everyone was taking a two-hour siesta after lunch, so she decided to drive the company truck around the site in an effort to dispel the lingering frustration of having confronted Cirre earlier. Touring the northern perimeter, she eyed huge arsenals of supplies surrounded by six-foot-high cyclone fences. Stealing and pilferage weren’t unusual. Much of it could be halted by a good guard service, but she hadn’t been impressed with the guards she’d seen so far. As she drove up to a small annex gate, she met another truck coming out.

Dominic Tobbar flashed a dazzling smile of welcome as he left his truck and sauntered over. He looked more vital and alive than she had yet seen him. She returned the smile, her heartbeat increasing from unexpected joy, as she said, “You look happier than usual.”

He put one foot on the running board and rested an arm against the window frame. “Ordering those crane sheaves has done it.”

“I’m glad. You seem like a new person.”

He grinned at her warmly. “Better than my angry self.”

Cait agreed. Again she felt unbalanced by him. Dave had been so steady, so consistent. But Dominic was volatile, unpredictable. Her voice lost some of its brightness. “You’re much easier to deal with when you’re in a good mood.”

He grunted his assent. “If you haven’t given up on me yet, there’s no place to go but up, Cait. Believe it or not, I do laugh and tease and generally get along with the rest of the human race.”

She laughed. “You could have fooled me! But then, things around here are tense, and I know what it can do to the men.”

Dominic’s face was glistening with sweat, his golden eyes darkening with mirth. He took off his hard hat and wiped his forehead with the back of his bare arm. Cait felt his intense appraisal once again. A pulse leaped at the base of her throat. “You don’t look scarred,” he ventured.

“What?”

“Word gets around fast. I heard that you and Cirre locked horns earlier today. You must have won. I don’t see any bruises or stabs in the back.”

“Don’t let the lack of wounds lead you into thinking he didn’t get to me,” she answered drily.

He nodded. “You do a good job of hiding it, then.” He winked, gave the pickup a friendly pat and stepped away. “I’ll have to remember that. Anyway, I owe you one.”

Cait started the engine and shifted gears. “Oh?”

“For ordering the parts.” His face sobered. “I won’t forget it, Cait. You’re the first one who believed me enough to check on my complaints.” He flashed her a sudden smile. “It’s nice to know everyone doesn’t think I’m the reason we’re behind schedule.”

As she guided the truck toward the office trailers, she felt giddy. He had used her first name. Why should she be so shocked? It rolled off his tongue like a deep purr from a contented jaguar.

Her mind spun with questions. Had Cirre deliberately made Dominic a scapegoat for his own ineffectuality? Had he then convinced Campos that the engineer was the culprit? That and Hank Parker’s illness?

She entered her office floating. Somehow, seeing Dominic Tobbar just naturally made her feel good. Filipo hurried to meet her at the door with a pile of phone messages.

“Señor Louie Henning was able to get an earlier flight,” he said, gesturing wildly. “He is waiting in BA, Señora. Right now!”

“BA?” she echoed, puzzled.

Filipo shrugged eloquently. “Everyone refers to Buenos Aires as BA, Señora.”

“I see. Well, send a pilot to get him. I’m sure Louie won’t mind waiting around for a couple of hours until someone gets there.”

Filipo sighed dramatically. “But Señora, the pilot has left for the eastern portion of the project. He is due in at San Luis in a few hours with a load of badly needed parts for the pipeline division.”

Cait frowned and rubbed her chin in thought. There was a plane at the airstrip, but no pilot. “No flights in our direction from Ezeiza?” she asked.

“None, Señora. The pilot can make BA approximately eight hours from now,” he finished lamely.

She stood up, pacing. That was too late. Louie must be exhausted from the flight, and she needed him in good working order by tomorrow morning. Suddenly she snapped her fingers. “Filipo, contact Señor Tobbar on the radio and ask him to get up here pronto.”

Dominic Tobbar stuck his head in her office fifteen minutes later. “Filipo said it was urgent.”

Cait put down her pen. “Not urgent, but important. Can I collect on that favor you said you owed me?”

His eyes danced with silent laughter. “Sure. What do you have in mind?”

“A quick flight to BA. Right now.”

“Business or personal?” he teased.

Cait returned his grin and picked up her hard hat. “Business. My cost controller just flew into BA, and I need him up here right away.”

“Ah, I see. You intend to bolt his body to the records trailer early tomorrow morning, right?”

She laughed, following him out of the trailer and climbing into a truck. “How’d you guess?”

“You’re quickly getting a reputation around here as Simon Legree, you know.” He climbed into the driver’s seat.

“I’ll do anything short of selling my soul, to get this project back on schedule,” she promised fervently.

He swung the truck out of the office area and headed toward the airstrip. A hot wind moved through the cab, for which Cait was thankful. Thinking of her appearance, she muttered a curse under her breath, and Tobbar cocked his head in her direction.

“What are you grousing about now?”

“Oh, nothing, really. I just wish I didn’t have to go into Ezeiza looking like a dust ball. All those gorgeously clad women in the terminal will die when they see me.” Dominic laughed. “Señora Monahan, believe me when I say you would put ninety percent of them to shame. Not many women can fill out a pair of jeans and a shirt so nicely.”

She wasn’t sure whether to protest, say thank you or get angry. Instead a blush stained her cheeks, and she closed her mouth, staring out the window, her pulse skipping erratically. She remained deep in thought for the two-hour flight to BA, using the time to sketch out several areas in which Louie Henning might want to begin investigating. By keeping busy, Cait tried to ignore the powerful presence of Dominic, but in such close quarters she felt overwhelmed by him. Admittedly he was now more a friend than an adversary, Cait decided as she stared out the cockpit window. Still, she felt threatened by him.

Since landing in Argentina she had been immersed in her job. Not once, not until now, had she thought of Dave or their happy marriage. Her thick lashes swept down across her cheeks, and she felt the sting of hot tears. He would be proud of the job she was, doing. A desperate longing filled her heart—she missed him. Now she had no one to tell her she was doing a good or bad job. She was in a position of authority that would cause men to silently hate her, yet she had no ally, no confidante.

“Got a headache?” Dominic inquired quietly.

Cait raised her head. “No—not really. A sort of one,” she admitted.

“Damn lonely up on that perch, isn’t it?”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “Sometimes I’d rather be a turkey.”

“An old American saying?”

She stretched languidly, like a cat awakening from a nap. “Yes. ‘I’d rather soar with the eagles than fly with a bunch of turkeys.’ Which means I’d rather do it alone than get fouled up with a bunch of aimless idiots.”

His eyes danced. “Some days, it’s safer to be a turkey. You can avoid people like Cirre. Right?”

She nodded, pulling out the pins that held her chignon in place. “True. I enjoy a challenging project like this, but it beats the hell out of my emotions.”

“Welcome to the club, Cait.” There was a longing look in his eyes as she unwound her captive tresses and allowed them to spill down over her left shoulder. He reached out, sliding his fingers through her hair and sending a shiver of delight up her neck and shoulders. “You have the most beautiful hair. It’s a shame you have to wear it up all the time.” He had said it almost wistfully and then seemed to check himself, some of the unreadable mask slipping back over his features.

Shakily Cait brushed her hair, unable to find her voice. He did the most unexpected things at the most unexpected times. His touch had been so light, so gentle. She found herself wondering what it would be like to be loved by him. Abruptly she slammed the door on such ridiculous thoughts. What had come over her?

Dominic gently banked the plane to the left, and Cait got her first real look at Ezeiza Airport.

The sun hung low on the horizon, paving the dark blue-green Atlantic with a carpet of dappled orange and gold, reminding her of a brilliant Van Gogh painting. Dominic’s touch, the yearning look in his eyes, seemed to have heightened her awareness of the world around her, and she leaned forward, gasping with delight at the colors spreading over the lush land comprising the southern edge of the Pampas. “It’s lovely, Dominic,” she said. “Any painter would revel in this sort of landscape. I never realized how beautiful your country is.”

He smiled appreciatively, coaxing the Beechcraft into final landing position before approaching the runway. “A land so vast, so untamable that it will take your breath away,” he promised.

A feeling of wonder flowed between them. As Cait sat back, watching him guide the plane, her vague thoughts and feelings crystalized. Dominic seemed to her like the untamed wildness of Argentina. A man of such inner strength coupled with primeval beauty and mysticism that it left her staring at him in awe—just as the land around her had made her stare in appreciative silence. He seemed to have cast a magic spell on her. He was like a wild jaguar, never quite tamed, always a threat. She couldn’t label him, couldn’t pin him down. He was a mystery.

She withdrew reluctantly from her introspection and forced her thoughts back to the present. Once on the Miron Corporation landing apron, she assumed her professional self. She leaped easily to the ground from the wing and walked over to where Dominic was waiting for her. It felt good to let her long hair swing with the natural rhythm of her body, and she had a sudden inexplicable surge of undefined emotion.

“Louie!” she cried, running toward a stooped, balding man standing by the flight counter.

“Darlin’!” he chortled, taking her full weight as she flew into his arms.

Cait buried her head against his skinny neck, closing her eyes tightly against sudden tears. “Oh, God, Louie,” she whispered. Images of Dave’s death had surfaced once again. Louie had been on the platform at the time of the tragedy.

He patted her affectionately. “Hey, hey,” he chided, “what’s this? My Wild Irish Rose snifflin’? Come on, darlin’, it’s gonna be okay. Louie’s here. Remember?”

They stood locked in a tight embrace. Louie rocked her slender body gently, murmuring endearments. He removed his wire-rim spectacles, his own eyes damp. “So let’s take a look at you, gal,” he ordered in a curiously high voice, holding her at arm’s length.

Cait’s face glistened with spilled tears, but she managed an embarrassed laugh, trying to wipe them away with the back of her hand. “Oh, Louie, you are a sight for sore eyes, believe me! You have no idea how glad I was when Goodell broke you loose from the Far East to help me out here.” She stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Ahh, you Irish are always full of blarney. You ain’t changed a bit, darlin’. Not a bit. Pretty as ever.”

Her green eyes were bright with unabashed affection for him. She grasped his hand, squeezing it hard. “I’m—I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered brokenly, tears glittering fiercely.

“I know, I know. It’s been a long time coming back, has it?”

“Yes,” she managed painfully. “I didn’t realize how long, Louie.”

He bowed his head, his thin mouth pursed. “A rotten piece of luck, darlin’. One in a million chance of happening, believe me. But look, ole Louie, here, will bring some sunshine back in your life, and we’ll make you smile like you used to out on those platforms. Remember how much fun we all had on P-31? The time we threw you overboard?” He chortled in fond remembrance, and Cait laughed with him.

Suddenly she remembered they were not alone. Reddening, she put her fingers to her lips at the gaffe and turned.

Dominic Tobbar’s expression was hardened and attentive. His fiery, unspoken gaze met hers, and she felt more deeply embarrassed. He didn’t understand. She and Louie were just good friends meeting once again. A cool smile tugged at one corner of his mouth as he walked over to them. He stood next to her, drinking in her upturned face, still wet with tears.

He removed a white handkerchief from his back pocket and placed it in her hand. “Wild Irish Rose,” he murmured. “‘I’ll have to remember that.” The stiffness of his voice was like acid on her tortured heart. She dabbed at her eyes and pulled her friend closer. “Louie, meet Dominic Tobbar. He heads up the bridge-building phase and was generous enough to be our pilot today.”

Louie squinted, sizing up the civil engineer. He grasped Dominic’s hand with his large-knuckled fingers. “From the tone in Cait’s voice, I’d say she thinks very highly of you, Señor Tobbar. Thanks for coming down.”

“Call me Dominic,” he replied, giving Louie a firm handshake. He glanced at Cait, who was gradually pulling herself back together. “You must be very dear friends,” he said in a voice tinged with sarcasm.

Louie grinned broadly, ignoring the innuendo, showing his crooked teeth. “The Rose and I go back seven years and many, many projects down the road. Ain’t that right, darlin’?”

Cait frowned, perplexed by Dominic’s attitude. “Many good times, Louie. Many,” she answered, distracted.

“Are those your bags?” Dominic wanted to know, avoiding, the intimate look that passed between Cait and Louie.

“Oh, yeah. I travel light. I hope like hell you got an interpreter at that site, Caitlin, my dear. I’m on the slats when it comes to Spanish.”

Cait laughed throatily and hooked her arm through Louie’s to lead him out of the terminal to the plane. “Don’t worry, you’ll know what they’re saying even without an interpreter,” she promised grimly.