A Thrill to Remember (14 page)

“Lost, my ass. Jesse abandoned me.”

“No kidding?”

“No kidding.”

“He was suppose to be watching me but instead he got distracted by some girl and let me get into the elevator by myself. Just so happens the elevator hangs up and I’m stuck in there alone for two hours.”

“He was an irresponsible butthead even back then.”

“Yes, he was.”

They smiled at each other.

His admission of vulnerability surprised her. Strong, capable Caleb afraid of something? She would never have imagined it. She thought of Don Juan and what he had shown her about herself. He’d taught her how to take risks, and she would be forever grateful for that lesson.

Meggie extended her hand to Caleb. “I’ve recently learned a powerful lesson about facing your fears.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And what is that?”

“If you want to find out what you’re really made of, you’ve got to take a few risks. Come on. Join me on the ledge of life.” She swept a hand at their surroundings. “I have faith in you.”

“Meggie, you have no idea what a challenge this is for me.”

“But that’s wonderful. The bigger the risk, the bigger the payoff.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“Lady, when you throw down a gauntlet, you throw down a gauntlet,” he grumbled, but even as he shook his head he was slowly edging one foot toward her.

“You’ll thank me in the morning.”

“Humph.”

“Come to me,” she beckoned, wriggling her fingers at him.

He started toward her. The floor beneath them swayed ever so slightly in the gusting wind, and she saw him wince.

“You can do this,” she coaxed.

“This better be worth it.”

“Trust me. One step at a time.”

And that’s how he did it, one step at a time toward the brink. When he finally reached her, his face broke into a smile that stole her heart.

“Woo-ho! You did it.”

“I did it,” he echoed.

“Congratulations. You conquered your fear of man-made heights,” she murmured, and spontaneously threw her arms around him.

And then, not even realizing what she had intended on doing, she kissed him.

Caleb wrapped his arms around her as her lips sank onto his, enveloping her in his woodsy scent. The smell of him entered her nostrils, invaded her bloodstream with a heady rush of sensation.

Heaven help her, she hadn’t meant to give him a real kiss. It was just suppose to be an atta-boy-I’m-darned-proud-of-you-for-conquering-your-fear kiss. But somewhere between her lips and his, the intention had become distorted, and she could not seem to control what happened next.

Blame it on Don Juan. Blame it on the full moon. Blame it on the fact that for the first time in her life she was seeing Caleb for who he was now and not for the kid next door he had once been.

He was all-man, absolutely no doubt about it.

Meggie melted against his body. She increased the pressure of the kiss, coaxing his lips apart, thrilling to her own bravery. Caleb wasn’t the only one taking risks tonight. She’d never been the aggressor in romance. Had never initiated a first kiss.

Boy, when she let her guard down, she really let her guard down.

Gently, she flicked her tongue over his lips, slow and lazy, seducing him by increments. Her head spun with the realization of her own audacity as she took their first kiss deeper and deeper still.

He tasted of creamy, sweet Lunar Orbiter and strong, dark espresso. And something else. A sweet, familiar taste she could not name.

His mouth was hot and moist against hers. The gusting wind, the tower’s gentle sway, shook the very air between their bodies and sent a fog mist swirling about them like something from a fantasy.

Time out! her brain cried. What do you think you’re doing? More importantly, what message are you sending Caleb? You’re giving him ideas you’re not able to support. Wise up, Meggie. Wise up right now.

With a low, throaty moan, he arched his body into hers, and when he reached out a hand and cupped the curve of her hip, Meggie’s eyes flew open. He was staring at her and she knew then that she was in over her head. Startled and suddenly frightened by what she had done, Meggie pulled away.

“I—I…didn’t mean to do that,” she stammered. “Please don’t take this the wrong way. I certainly wasn’t trying to seduce you.”

“You could have fooled me.”

His voice was rough, abrupt. Was he angry or disappointed? She couldn’t blame him for being either. She’d sort of led him on. But she hadn’t meant to. It had just happened.

“I know. I’m sorry.” She turned her back, unable to look him in the eyes. Oh heavens, what must he think of her? She didn’t know what to think of herself.

“Sorry for kissing me?”

“I’m confused. Between getting dumped by Jesse and this whole Don Juan thing. I’m just really, really confused right now and I’m taking it out on you. That was wrong of me.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She plastered a perky smile on her face and glanced at her watch. “Will you look at the time? It’s getting late and we’ve had enough excitement for one evening. What say we call it a night?”

“Meggie…” He reached out for her, but she danced away. She couldn’t bear the words if he said something sweet simply to make her feel better for acting like an oversexed doxy.

“Don’t worry, Caleb. Believe me, that kiss meant nothing to me, absolutely nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“I’ve forgotten it already. Honest.” She waved a hand as if she kissed men atop the Space Needle every single day of her life.

“And I suppose you want me to forget all about it, too.”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Maybe I do mind.”

“Caleb, please,” she begged. “I had too much wine. That’s all there is to it.”

He stared at her a long moment without saying anything. He looked at her with great blue eyes gone dark in the mist. His expression made her heart lock. She felt as if she had crossed some unbreachable boundary and could never make it right, no matter what she said.

A group of rowdy revelers came up to the deck from the restaurant below, thankfully interrupting the awkward silence between them.

“I’m ready to go.”

A strange mix of sadness, shame and guilt dissolved into a muddle as thick as the gathering fog. This unfortunate episode was going to not only keep her awake at night, but also cause her to flinch at the memory. She wished the damned fog would enshroud her so totally that she disappeared.

How could she have been so stupid?

In that moment, guilt, sadness and shame morphed into a stinging sense of regret. Despite that Caleb had taken her elbow to steady her on the steps, Meggie felt utterly and completely alone.

The trip to her car was heavy, weighted with a sludge of unvoiced emotion neither of them wanted to explore. After she’d unlocked the vehicle, Caleb opened the driver’s door for her. She plunked down in the front seat and looked up, beseeching him with her eyes to forgive her.

“Aren’t you getting in?” she asked, when he just kept standing there.

“I think I’ll walk. My hotel is only a few blocks.” He inclined his head east.

Tears pressed against her eyes. He didn’t even want to be in the same car with her. Oh God, had she ruined everything between them? Was their friendship kaput?

“It’s chilly and damp.”

“I’ll be all right.”

She should have shut up right there and let it go, but, no, in a wretched attempt to ease her pathetic suffering, she had to push.

“Are we on for tomorrow night? I can get tickets to the Sonics game.”

He shook his head. “I’m booked tomorrow night.”

“How about Wednesday?”

“No can do.”

Hey, idiot, buy a clue. He doesn’t want to see you.

“Saturday? We could hit the aquarium. Go on a harbor cruise.”

“I’m going to be pretty busy for the next couple of weeks.”

“Oh.”

He reached out a hand, trailed a finger down her cheek. His touch ignited her skin. “It’s not what you think.”

“You’re not looking to avoid me?”

“Of course not.”

“Then…” She paused as a new thought popped into her head. “Oh. You’ve met someone.”

“Something like that.” His smile softened the edges of his eyes. “She’s a very special lady.”

How could Meggie have been so self-centered? Her kiss hadn’t freaked him out in the way she’d supposed. Caleb had met someone else, and here she’d been thinking he was disgusted by her kiss. What a ninny.

“Why, that’s great,” she babbled. “Fabulous. I’m so happy for you.”

“You are?”

“Absolutely. Sure.”

“What about that kiss on the observation deck?”

“I told you, it meant nothing. Go. Enjoy your new girlfriend. You have my blessings.”

HE CAME TO HER in a dream. Dressed entirely in black. Gone was the flowing white shirt, replaced with a black leather vest and nothing else.

Just leather and bare skin.

But was this a dream? Meggie wondered, her entire body trembling in his overwhelming presence. Or a reality she was afraid to admit? From the moment she’d met him, she’d been caught up in this seductive fantasy where reality and dream merged into something powerfully erotic.

He stared at her, his steely blue eyes enigmatic as always behind that mask. His jaw tightened when he noticed she wore only a gauzy red gown.

Her fingers curled with a savage urge to explore that masculine chin. She ached to press her tongue against it, to taste the saltiness of his skin.

He reached for her. When his rough fingers grazed her wrist, she hissed as if burned. His firm clasp propelled liquid heat to the soft tender flesh between her legs.

His expression was unreadable. He did not smile. He pulled her to him and captured her lips with a kiss so tempestuous it took her breath.

He drove the spear of his tongue deep inside her mouth. The taste of him filled her. His mustache grazed her upper lip with a light tickle that launched a languid shiver down her spine.

Her skin hummed with severe pleasure. Her nipples tightened.

He made a hungry male animal noise and ground his pelvis against hers. Their bodies fit perfectly. Streamers of fiery heat flowed from him to her.

Oh, this felt so good.

She breathed hard against his mouth, taking in the scent of man and leather and sex.

“Don Juan,” she whimpered.

“Yes, yes?”

“I want you inside me. I want you now.”

He pushed her back onto the bed, pressing her body into the mattress. He stripped off his vest, his pants, and settled his weight over her body. With brazen fingers, he ripped the material of her nightgown, exposing her nakedness.

This was what she missed. What she wanted. His forcefulness, his boldness, his daring.

“Hurry, please hurry,” she begged. “I’m wet and ready.”

He drove into her. Hard, hot, powerful. Again and again and again. She felt as if all the air had been knocked from her lungs.

And then they came in one blistering moment, crying together in rough, desperate groans.

He collapsed upon her, drenched in sweat and love juices.

Slowly, slowly, they drifted back down to earth.

“Let me see your face,” she whispered a few minutes later. “I must know who you are.”

“How long I’ve waited for you to say that.”

Then he raised his head, peeled off his mask along with the false mustache, unveiling himself to her.

Oh God! What had she done?

Her masked lover was Caleb!

That’s when she cried out and jerked herself awake.

Meggie bolted upright in bed, her heart pounding, her body soaked in perspiration, her covers flung to the floor. The dream seemed so real. Too real. She splayed a hand over her chest.

On trembling legs she went to the bathroom and took a shower to cool her scorched skin.

Why had she dreamed Caleb was Don Juan? Fretfully, she dried her body, which strangely enough was as tender as if she actually had made love with him.

Mind in turmoil, she padded to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of tomato juice. She sat at the table and tried to decipher her dream.

Subconsciously, did she want Caleb to be Don Juan?

Meggie gnawed her bottom lip. The two men were different as night and day, even though upon reflection they did possessed similar physical characteristics. Both were tall and lean, dark-haired and blue-eyed.

But Don Juan was wickedly naughty, intrepid and brash, definitely not the sort of man you married. Caleb was sweet and kind and caring, the kind of guy you’d love to bring home to Mother. Too bad Meggie couldn’t have both. The exciting lover who revved her blood and made her dare, mixed with the steady, reliable man she could always count on.

And then she had her answer. No wonder she’d dreamed that Caleb was Don Juan. She was attracted to both of them, but she had reservations about each. Caleb was too quiet, too familiar; Don Juan too wild, too reckless. Her subconscious had simply taken the two and melded them into one.

The perfect man who didn’t exist.

“YOU ARE THE MOST naturally gifted dancer I have ever had the privilege to instruct,” Luisa Roman told Caleb two weeks and ten salsa lessons later. “And such a determined student. I have never seen anyone pick up the tango with such ease.”

“Thank you.” He accepted the certification of completion she handed him.

His instructor didn’t know the half of it. Over the past fourteen days, when Caleb hadn’t been either giving lectures at local hospitals or attending classes here at the dance studio, he’d been in his hotel room practicing the elegant yet seductive moves.

Last week, he’d almost run into Meggie in the hallway at the studio as she came out of her belly dancing class, but he’d spotted her first and, just in the nick of time, dashed into the men’s locker room. Even though it was a little cruel, he would rather have her thinking he was out with another woman than uncover his plan before he was ready.

But time was not on his side. He was leaving Seattle the following Tuesday. He had to act quickly. He was determined to impress Meggie and he intended to do it up right. Make a grand romantic gesture. Give her one thrilling night she would remember for the rest of her life.

A night they would never forget.

He was ready to push all boundaries, risk everything in order to win her over. Take a chance and grab for the brass ring. He was going to prove to her that their kiss at the top of the Space Needle had indeed meant something very special.

The lessons were finished, he’d even impressed Luisa Roman, and now he was ready.

Even though it had been pure torture, he’d resisted calling Meggie these past two weeks. He wanted her to think about him. To remember their kiss. To wonder what it meant. Yes, he was playing a mind game with her, but then he was counting on a huge payoff.

Love.

Did he have the courage to seduce her without the Don Juan mask? He would find out for certain on Saturday night, when he took her salsa dancing. He imagined the moment and his heart swelled with possibilities.

Then Luisa Roman said something that altered the trajectory of his plans. “Because you are my prize student, I will tell you of a very special place.”

“Ma’am?”

She pressed a card into his palm. He glanced at the bold black lettering that said simply The Mystery Room, with an address underneath.

“The Mystery Room?” He raised an eyebrow.

“An exclusive nightclub, offering the finest in salsa dancing and a little more.” Luisa’s voice had gone low, suggestive.

“A little more?”

“The patrons attend in costume and masks. No bare faces allowed.”

Just the thought sent a thrill rippling through his body, and Caleb knew then that he would pose as Don Juan one last time to lure Meggie to the Mystery Room.

“It is very erotic,” Luisa continued. “And if you have a special lady, you might want to rent one of the rooms above the club. It’s amazing what a night of mystery will do for your love life.”

“No kidding.”

Perfect. The pieces of his plan fit like a puzzle. He would invite Meggie to the club and dance with her all night. Afterward he would take her upstairs, make love to her and then remove his mask.

“HELL-OOO. Meggie, are you even listening to me?” Wendy’s voice broke through her reverie.

“Huh?”

“I asked you twice if you thought I should shave my head and you never even blinked, much less offered an opinion. You’re a gazillion miles away. What’s the matter? Still mooning over that foreign guy?”

Meggie shook her head. They were in her apartment, measuring for new living room curtains. She’d decided she needed a change, but she couldn’t seem to force herself to concentrate on the task at hand.

No, she wasn’t mooning over Don Juan. She was thinking about Caleb. Worrying about him, actually. He was a babe in the woods when it came to city living, and she wondered about the woman he was seeing. What if she was just some gold digger looking to get at his money? What if the wench ended up breaking the poor guy’s heart? Meggie gritted her teeth. If that happened, she would personally hunt the twit down and crack her skull.

The vehemence of her thoughts startled Meggie.

“Oops, there you went again. One minute you’re looking me in the eye, the next minute staring off into space,” Wendy said. “What gives?”

“Nothing. I’m sorry. I called you over to help me and then I get distracted on you.”

“Hey, what are friends for, except to be there when you need them?”

Caleb was her friend.

Or at least he used to be.

God, why had she kissed him? Meggie cringed and dropped her face in her hands. Had she ruined their friendship for good?

She’d been agonizing over that stupid kiss for the past two weeks, wondering why Caleb hadn’t phoned, but too embarrassed to pick up the phone and call him. And she’d even been too ashamed of herself to confess to Wendy what she’d done, or talk about that crazy dream where she’d wished Caleb was sexy Don Juan.

“I’m not sure, though, that I’ve completely forgiven you for not introducing me to your handsome Alaskan naturalist before some hussy scooped him up.” Wendy pretended to pout.

“Sorry.” Meggie felt a twinge of guilt and regret. If she hadn’t been so selfish, if she’d introduced Caleb to Wendy, he probably wouldn’t have met that other woman at all, whoever she might be. At least if he’d been with Wendy Meggie would have had a chance to see him.

The telephone jangled.

Caleb? Her hopes soared as they did every time the phone rang. But this time, for some reason, she had an overwhelming sense it was him.

She raced across the living room, stumbling over the coffee table and whacking her shin.

Ow, ow, ow.

But even pain didn’t slow her down.

“’Lo,” she answered, her pulse pounding wildly.

“Belladonna.”

“Don Juan,” she whispered.

In a second Wendy popped in front of her, eyes wide, a huge grin on her face. Meggie waved her away, her mind spinning with a thousand splintered thoughts. Just when she thought she’d put Don Juan in her past where he belonged, here he was again.

“You sound disappointed,” he accused in that rich Spanish accent.

“Oh, no. I’m not disappointed. I was just expecting someone else.”

“Ah. Another lover?”

“No, no. A friend.”

“I have missed you,” he crooned, and she felt that old helplessness weaken her knees.

“I never expected you to call me again.”

“And why is that?”

“The way you left me the last time we were together, I assumed it was a one-time thing.”

“Never assume. Life is too full of surprises for that.”

“Are you back in Seattle on business?” she asked, unable to identify the emotions churning inside her, not knowing if she wanted him to be here or not.

“Yes. And I wish to see you again.”

A shivery thrill leaped through her. Oh no. Here we go again.

“Are you still there?”

Meggie hesitated. “I’m still here.”

“Are you busy Saturday night?”

This is a really bad idea, Meggie. Say no.

Ah, but how she wanted to see him again. She ached to run her fingers through his hair, to be kissed and caressed by him. Don Juan had given her sexual healing. Their arrangement was perfect. Not like this oddness she felt for Caleb. No personal information. No entanglements. No falling head over heels in love. No getting hurt.

And yet she fully understood that this thing with her masked fantasy man was dangerous. She was taking a big chance, walking a tenuous tightrope between just sex and something more. It was too easy to confuse love and sex.

Except that wasn’t really true. Sex was pretty cut and dried. It was the excitement that confused her. The titillation. The sexual adventure that promised much more than it could ever deliver on an emotional level.

If she had one more fling with Don Juan, for the sake of her own mental health she had to keep one thing firmly planted in the forefront of her mind. It’s just a little sex. Nothing more.

“I’m free on Saturday night,” she said, dismayed at her own weakness, but riddled with lust at the thought of seeing him again.

“That is very good. You make me so happy. Now, I have a favor to ask of you.”

“All right.”

“I am sending over a costume. Wear it. Inside the box you will find an address for a nightclub. Meet me there. Eight o’clock on Saturday night. I will be waiting for you,” he whispered, and then gently hung up.

THE MYSTERY ROOM, a dark, cozy nightclub filled with people in a variety of exotic costumes, oozed sensuality. The huge salsa band played the lambada and there was some pretty steamy stuff happening on the dance floor.