A Bridge to Dreams (5 page)

“I'll want to stop and take this walk.”

“Then do it.”

She sighed with regret. “No. If I did, I suppose it would become old hat after a while. It would lose the sense of enchantment.”

“Not if you keep your mind open to the subtleties, a change in the direction of the wind, the shimmer of color when the sun begins to reflect off the metal. The
slow lifting of the fog. The threads of sunlight lying in silver pools on the water.”

The poetic words spun a web of magic around her heart. “You should stop peddling cars for a living and write guide books.”

“You inspire me.”

His embrace tightened ever so slightly with the quietly spoken and seemingly heartfelt compliment. Karyn lifted her gaze to his and caught a faint suggestion of wistfulness that tugged at her heart. She turned slightly and, with fingers that trembled, touched his cheek. His skin was warm and smooth from a morning shave, his jawline angular. He was flesh-and-blood male, not a daydream, but she didn't understand him any more than she could capture an illusion. Her experience had been with honest, down-to-earth, hardworking men whose level of gallantry extended no further than opening a car door. Men like that talked about football point spreads and baseball batting averages. They did not wax eloquent about threads of sunlight.

“What makes you tick, Brad Willis?” she wondered aloud.

He refused to take her question seriously, shrugging it off with a laugh and a grin. “I'm driven by demons,” he said flippantly, but Karyn heard the odd note in his voice that warned her the description fit in ways she couldn't begin to fathom. Before she could pursue the truth, Brad released her and opened the bag he'd been carrying. He plucked a bottle of champagne from its depths.

“To toast the sunrise,” he said, popping the cork.

“Sunrise?” Karyn repeated with a lift of an eyebrow
as she surveyed the endless vista of gray. The sky was lighter now, but no less muted.

“It's out there,” he promised. “It's just one of those things in life you have to take on faith.”

“That's a dangerous practice. I learned long ago not to count on anything I couldn't see or touch.”

The edge of cynicism sobered him. He caressed her jaw with his thumb while gazing deep into her eyes. “You haven't had an easy time of it, have you?”

Now it was her turn to shrug off the serious moment, the unwanted sympathy. “Not easy, no, but far better than some. I've had to work hard for it, but I have an education. I have an interesting job with plenty of opportunity for advancement. Most important, I've always had a family who loved me.”

“Those are all the basics, but that's not always enough to take away the hunger.”

Karyn tried again to lighten the tone. “Hey, it wasn't that bad. We had food on the table, just not much else in the way of extras.”

“People can hunger for more than food, my literal one,” Brad said, sounding like a man who knew such hunger firsthand. “Hawaii, for example.”

“And Grand Prix victory?” she guessed.

“I had my share.” The statement suggested Brad took pride in his accomplishments, but his tone was flat, drained of all emotion.

“That doesn't mean it was enough. People with a craving for pickles, for instance, never seem to get enough.”

“Pickles?” he repeated, grinning at the comparison.

She laughed. “It was one of the extras. Like picnics and
vacations. To this day I can't pass up a juicy, fat dill pickle. Thank heavens I didn't develop a craving for diamonds.”

Despite her laughter, his grin died. “I'll add pickles to the agenda this week,” he promised. “As long as you don't want them for breakfast. I'm not sure I could bear that.”

“No, for breakfast, champagne in the middle of the Golden Gate will do very nicely.” She watched him closely. “What else do you hunger for, Brad? Besides another race?”

The burning glint in his eyes intensified and Karyn's heart thundered in anticipation. “Until right this minute, I haven't known for sure, but this, I think,” he said softly and bent his head, capturing her lips with a hunger that took her breath away.

Karyn had never known such need, never experienced such powerful masculine possession. She gave herself over to it with a passion that very nearly overwhelmed her. Joy burst inside her. It was as though she were discovering springtime after a hard winter. It was the heat of fire after the chill of snow. It was…awesome.

Shaken and vulnerable in the aftermath of that kiss, Karyn couldn't bring herself to meet Brad's eyes. He tilted her chin up until she had no choice. “Don't hide from me, Karyn. Please,” he said softly.

Dazed, she shook her head. “I won't.”

“I was right, you know.”

“About what?”

“You are what I've been hungering for. There is a freshness about you, an innocence, that I haven't known for a very long time.”

It wasn't his words or the tone of his voice that
dazzled Karyn. It was the blaze of fire in his eyes. She reached out to touch the icy, bright red metal of the bridge, to ground herself in reality. Even that couldn't rob her of the sensation that the bridge was falling away beneath her, that Brad Willis, a man she'd known for such a short time, held her fate in the palm of his hand.

“You're trembling,” he observed, his expression troubled. “Am I going too fast for you?”

“A little,” she admitted shakily. Boldly, though, she looked into the depths of eyes the same deep green shade as the churning water below and said, “But don't stop.”

With a heavy sigh, he drew her close. “I don't think I could if I wanted to.”

Brad tangled his fingers in her hair and rested his chin atop her head. She could hear the steady, thumping rhythm of his heart. The tangy scent of his soap filled her senses. His warmth surrounded her. When he spoke again at last, the words rumbled up from deep in his chest.

“Where would you like to go next on your vacation?” he asked. “Italy? China? France? Take your pick.”

Smiling, Karyn lifted her gaze to his and gave herself over to the fantasy. “Italy, I think. Will it take long to get there?”

“Not long at all. In fact, if you look closely enough, you can see it from here.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, you can,” he said, chiding her for her skepticism. He pointed toward the cliffs of Sausalito. “Look there at the flowers tumbling down the hillsides, the little twisty roads. Doesn't that remind you of an Italian seaside village?”

“My imagination must not be as vivid as yours. It looks like Sausalito to me.”

“Then I think our first stop should be to buy you some rose-colored glasses. Any true romantic could see what I see.”

“I haven't had a lot of time for romance in my life,” she said, unable to prevent a wistful note from creeping into her voice.

Brad's fingertips were warm against her cheek as he vowed, “Then that's about to change.”

Hand in hand, they returned to the car. With Brad's dangerous promise still ringing in her ears, Karyn sat silently looking out the window as they crossed the bridge. Her world was suddenly spinning like a top, reeling away from reality as she had known it—dull, consistent, unchanging. What was emerging was a way of life colored with vibrant, passionate shades and throbbing with excitement. After a few days of this, would she ever be content with her humdrum existence again?

It didn't matter, she told herself staunchly. The taste of enchantment was worth whatever heartache might follow. Determined to savor it all, Karyn put her hand trustingly into Brad's as they left the car near the ferry dock and began the walk through the winding streets of the quaint village.

With the total enthusiasm of a dedicated shopper, Brad dragged her in and out of one boutique after another, watching her closely as she tentatively touched the unique jewelry, studied the paintings or ran her fingers over the fabric of handcrafted woolens or delicately screened silks. She fell in love with a scarf in
shades of gold and red, but Brad shook his head and reached instead for one in bright blues and boldest turquoise. When he held it close to her cheek, she could see at once that he was right. It brought out the warm peach tones in her skin and emphasized the unfamiliar sparkle in her eyes.

Astonished by the difference, she teased, “You have quite a knack at that, Mr. Willis. Have you spent a lot of time picking out women's clothes?”

“Some,” he murmured and Karyn's heart fell. “But never as successfully as this.” He turned to the salesclerk. “We'll take it.”

“Brad, no,” she protested, glancing at the exorbitant price tag. “It's far too expensive and impractical.”

He shook his head. “What am I going to do with you? Vacations are meant for frivolous purchases. Now pay attention and repeat after me—for the next week, if I see something I really, really want, I'll buy it. That's lesson two.”

Karyn laughed at his serious expression. “And who will pay the bill for all these extravagances?”

He waved aside the practicalities. “That's something you worry about over the long months between vacations. Besides, this is a gift from me to you.”

“I can't accept it. It's one thing for you to be entertaining me all week long. This is too much.”

“Don't you want me to enjoy this vacation as much as you do?”

“Of course.”

“Then you'll have to accept the gift. It makes me happy to give it to you, to see your eyes light up when you look at it and at me.”

The rich colors and cool silk of the scarf tempted, but not nearly as much as the hopeful gleam in Brad's eyes. For a fraction of a second, Karyn could almost believe it really mattered to him whether she accepted the present. “Thank you,” she said finally.

“You're welcome,” Brad replied, his eyes locked with hers as he wound the scarf loosely around her neck. His fingers brushed her nape, then trailed along the neckline of her sweater. Against her bare flesh, his touch blazed a path of fire and new, unfamiliar emotions burst forth deep inside her.

Karyn had never experienced such tenderness before, such attentiveness to her needs. It wasn't so much Brad's gift that mattered as the fact that he'd caught the longing in her eyes, that he'd cared enough to recognize how rare such treasures were for her. She reached up and touched the delicate fabric. The emotions born this morning were just as fragile, just as unique.

Was there any way, she wondered, to tell how long either would last?

T
he sun burned away the last wisps of fog and like more magic, San Francisco emerged across the Bay as Karyn and Brad lingered over coffee in one of the cafés that dotted the Sausalito waterfront. Though Brad kept her entertained with innocuous stories of past travels with his family and on the racing circuit, she was not unaware of the speculative looks constantly cast in their direction. The reminder of Brad's celebrity status was disconcerting at best to someone used to remaining quietly in the background.

It was one thing when a boy of about twelve asked hesitantly for an autograph. It was quite another to have a flashy redhead in a skintight miniskirt wiggle over, drape herself around Brad's neck with obvious familiarity and kiss his suddenly flaming cheek. Karyn couldn't quite tell whether Brad's blush was caused by embarrassment or outrage. Her own reaction was even more confusing. Not only did she feel uncomfortable
in the presence of such intimacy, she discovered that she was also capable of gut-wrenching jealousy.

“Brad, honey,” the woman whispered in a throaty, all-too-sexy purr. “It's been too long.”

Brad shot an apologetic look at Karyn as he tried to disengage the woman's fingers, which were threaded through his hair. Quickly, he stood, threw some cash on the table for the bill and reached for Karyn's hand. “Nice to see you,” he mumbled to the woman, then headed for the door at a determined pace that could have earned him first place in a marathon.

“Sorry about that,” he said when they were finally alone and a full block from the restaurant.

“The run or the interruption?” Karyn asked, drawing in a ragged breath.

“The interruption.”

“Who was she?”

“Beats me.”

“You didn't know her?”

“Let's just say I don't remember her.”

Karyn stiffened at his cold, dismissive tone. “It's not particularly gallant of you to say so. She certainly seemed to know you.”

He stopped and turned her around to face him, his hands on her shoulders. “There are a lot of women who follow professional sports, including racing. They show up at parties. They claim an intimacy that may or may not be real. I probably have seen that woman before. I may even have had a conversation with her, but I guarantee you that it's never gone any further than that. I may have had some wild moments during my years on the circuit, but I remember all of them.”

At Karyn's doubtful look, he repeated, “All of them, sweetheart.”

Karyn felt the knot that had formed in her stomach finally begin to dissipate. She supposed what Brad said was entirely possible, but the woman had spoken in such a familiar way. Such brazen public behavior was beyond her experience. It emphasized once more the wide chasm between her level of sophistication and Brad's. He might not like what had just happened, but he was apparently used to it.

“Does that sort of thing happen to you a lot?” she asked as they started to walk again, his arm settled comfortably across her shoulders. She liked the way it felt there, liked the hint of possessiveness.

“Not as much as it used to. I've been away for a while now. People start to forget. New faces have taken my place.”

“Did you enjoy all the attention?”

“I enjoyed winning. The rest was unavoidable. To be perfectly truthful, there were times I took advantage of it. It can be very lonely, if you don't. Women like you don't want to get involved with a man who's always on the run. The glamour wears thin very quickly. They want someone they can count on when the kids get sick or when the washer breaks down.”