Calculated Risk (19 page)

Quintin’s hand reached out to halt the
apple’s progress into his son’s mouth. “Let me just ask you a
hypothetical question.” He smiled. “Would it upset you to know that
Stevie started going out with someone else?”

“No.”

“How about if she and this other man
fell in love and wanted to get married?”

“Fine with me.” Robbie transferred the
apple to his other hand and lifted it to his anxious mouth. White
teeth splintered the red skin and sank into the smooth white
fruit.

“How about kids? Would you mind if they
had kids?”

“Hey, more power to them.”

Quintin cleared his throat. “Just one
more question. What would you say if …if I was that man?” He held
his breath and braced his emotions.

Robbie chewed for a full minute while
he considered the idea. “Well…you might give it a try. Do you
really think she’s your type? I mean, she’s too tall, and I don’t
think she owns a pair of jeans.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“Say, if Stevie was to be my stepmother
–“ Rob’s brown eyes widened “ –I bet she could get the Pit Stops to
perform at the senior ball. That would be a knockout!”

Sagging against the back of the
captain’s chair, Quintin felt at once exhausted and energized.
Suddenly he became a mass of moving arms and legs. He had to find
Stevie and tell her that everything was all right. Everything was
better than all right: It was wonderful!

He lifted the receiver, then slammed
the phone down. He hadn’t any idea where to get in touch with her.
The office was closed on Saturday, her damn answering machine was
useless and I knew she wouldn’t answer her cell. He snapped his
fingers under a surge of inspiration. “Rob,” he fought to sound
calm, “are you going to be busy this weekend?”

“Tommie and I are taking our cameras
downtown to shoot a photo journal on the contrasting images of
Nashville. It’s for extra credit.”

“Would you be upset if I left Mrs.
Crawford in charge and went to California? I’d be back on
Tuesday.”

“Of course not, Dad.” Robbie shrugged.
“I’ll probably end up eating over at the Hammond’s anyway. Tommie’s
mother wants me to bring over my yogurt culture; she just bought a
maker.”

“Thanks, Rob.” Quintin put his arms
around his son and gave him a grateful hug. “You don’t know how
much this little talk has meant to me.”

After quickly filling in his
housekeeper, Quintin drove the fifteen miles to the airport in
seventeen minutes. It would have been faster, but the trooper who
issued him a speeding ticket wasn’t the least bit interested in
aiding Cupid. His shoes ate up the airport hallways as he
systematically checked all airlines that had planes heading to LA
at ten a.m. He didn’t know which one Stevie was flying, but he
staunchly refused to acknowledge the fact that he could have missed
her. Fate wouldn’t be that cruel.

Approaching the ninth
reservations-and-information counter, his dark gaze locked onto the
familiar feminine form that had alternately pleasured and tortured
his days and nights. Even though her back was to him, Quintin knew
it was Stevie. The silver sweater and black slacks fitted her tall,
lithe body to perfection.

His hand settled against the slope of
her waist at the same instant that his chin balanced on her
shoulder. “Hello, darling.”

Stevie’s startled squeak turned quickly
into a gasp of pleasure, then just as suddenly into a cry of
distress. “Quint!” Her fingers gripped his muscled forearm. “What
are you doing here? Oh, God, Robbie didn’t find out? He hasn’t down
anything stupid; he’s all right, isn’t he?” She hastily began
blinking back tears that stung her eyes.

“He’s fine. Everything is fine. I came
to be with you.” His knuckles caressed the hollow beneath her
cheekbone. “I love you.”

“Quintin, please.” She stared at him,
her eyes devouring every rugged feature. “What’s happened? I’m so
confused.”

“We straightened everything out of
breakfast.” A grin suddenly lightened his expression. “You’ve been
replaced,” he announced, “by a girl named Tommie who has a three-D
camera and makes sprout sandwiches.”

“What?” Stevie lowered her voice,
noting the interested stares of other people who were in line.
“When did all this happen?”

“Last week,” he told her, “while we
were happening, they were happening.”

Stevie took her position at the counter
and handed the clerk her ticket. “What about the roses, and all
that talk about a school ring?”

Quintin’s broad shoulders lifted in a
perplexed shrug. “I have a hunch Tommie’s getting the ring. Rob
said the flowers weren’t from him.” He aimed a sly smile at her.
“Hey, are you holding out on me? Is there someone else?”

“I’m not even going to dignify that
question with a response,” came her regal intonation. Stevie
scratched the back of her neck. “With Gloria out and the office in
such a mess –“ she signed “—I guess a client could have sent the
roses. I never did find a card, and I just gave up sorting through
all the phone messages.”

The airline attendant slid Stevie’s
boarding pass into the ticket folder. “You’re all set, Miss Brandt,
your flight will be boarding in a few minutes at gate
two.”

“We’ll have another one of those,”
Quintin interjected, fumbling in the back pocket of his jeans for
his wallet. He slapped the two halves of his American Express card
on the counter. “I’m coming with you. We’d like adjoining
seats.”

The clerk eyes the broken card and then
the determined man. “Do you have any luggage?” At his negative
response, her brow lifted. “I’ll have to call and verify this
number. One moment please.”

“Tell me more about Rob.” Stevie
pestered him while they waited. “I want all the
details.”

Quintin leaned his elbow on the
counter, watching with approval as the color seeped back into her
complexion. “Well, there’s just no way to break this to you
gently.” His tone was laced with laughter. “You are too tall and
too old, and you just can’t keep up with a young, active
person.”

“Well…I like that!” Her lips formed a
pout.

A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest. “I
know I do.” Quintin chucked her under the chin. “It appears as
though my plan did do its job,” came his smug retort. “Rob said you
are a drag as a date, don’t appreciate health food, and are not
good at video games. It seems he was quite embarrassed at that
basketball game by the way you were dressed.”

“Of all the nerve,” she sputtered, “I
nearly lost a toe in those boots. And…I eat healthy…just not all
those fuzzy sprouts!”

“Excuse me, sir.” The reservationist
pushed a credit slip and pen toward him. “Sign right there and –“
she handed him a red-and-blue-striped packet. “—here’s your ticket,
you do have adjoining seats as the plane is not even half
full.”

Hand in hand, laughing like children,
they sailed through security and ran for the gate. The doors on the
wide-bodied plane were locked into place as they clicked on their
seat belts.

“I just can’t believe that you’re
here.” Stevie’s hand slide inside Quintin’s, her fingers coupling
intimately with his. “I was so miserable, and now –“ she breathed a
contented sigh, as her head snuggled into the curve of his
neck.

Quintin lifted her hand to his lips and
pressed a kiss to her ring finger. “When we get to California, the
first thing on our agenda is a ring. I want everyone to know that
you are taken.” His tone was quite fierce.

“Suits me,” she whispered. Her tongue
drew a teasing heart on the sensitive skin below his ear. “I love
you.”

“I’d like to love you,” came his low
growl. “Do you know how long it’s been?”

“Eighty one hours, twelve minutes and
–“ Stevie twisted his wrist to view his watch “—four seconds. But
Quint,--“ her lashes fluttered provocatively “—I don’t think the
people on this airplane would appreciate your jumping my body in
first class.”

“Champagne?” a pert blond attendant
inquired.

“Yes,” came their united
approval.

“Did you two just get married?’ She
smiled, handing them each a glass.

“Not yet.” Stevie smiled
back.

“We’re just on the honeymoon,” came
Quintin’s dry undertone.

“You made her blush,” Stevie
hissed.

“I’d rather make you blush,” he
countered, fidgeting despite the oversize eat. “How much of this
trip is business?”

“As of right now, just tomorrow’s
awards show.” She clicked her glass with his. “We can get you a
tux, clothes, everything you need at the hotel shops. The rest of
the time, we can practice for our honeymoon.” Suddenly, Stevie
turned serious. “Quint?”

His hand molded her cheek. “Shhh…I
don’t want to see that scared look in your eyes,” he warned.
“Everything is fine. Rob’s parting comment was that when you’re his
stepmother, he wants the Pit Stops for the senior ball.”

“I’m glad.” Her shoulders relaxed into
the leather seat. “But I would like Rob to help us plan our
wedding, make suggestions, for the three of us to become a
family.”

Quintin leaned over her, his mouth
brushing against hers. An urgent groan rumbled in his throat, his
voice a low whisper. “Are you wearing those silly little lace
panties?”

“Behave yourself.” She pushed at him.
“You know you still have to pass my father’s inspection.” Her tawny
brows lifted in silent warning.

“Approved or not, lady,” he growled.
“nothing or nobody is going to keep us apart,” his hand slapped the
armrest, “unless it’s this damn airplane.”

An announcement was made that the
inflight movie was about to start. “Here,” Stevie handed him a set
of ear buds. “The movie will keep your mind off your glands.” One
hazel eye favored him with a saucy wink. “These James Bond epics
are filled with gadgetry, stunts, explosions …”

“And half-naked women.”

“I thought it was my body you
craved?”

“It is.” He turned his head, panting
noisily into her ear.

“Stop it.” Stevie plugged the ear jack
into the socket. “Now what’s the matter?” She watched him unhook
his seat belt.

“Damn..I don’t think that champagne
settled right.” His hand moved to rub his stomach. “I’ll be fine.”
Quintin ambled down the wide aisle, ignoring the first class
lavatories to inspect the ones in the tail of barely filled
plane.

Adjusting the audio knob, Stevie
settled in to watch the movie. Five minutes later, the attendant
nudged her arm and handed her a note. Frowning, she unfolded the
paper and squinted at the scrawled message: Last bathroom on the
right in the rear – Q.

Unhooking her seatbelt, Stevie made her
way through the darkened plane. Her knuckles rapped lightly on the
door. She hoped he wasn’t too air sick, she had some stomach pills
in her purse.

The door opened an inch; brown eyes
inspected the caller and a familiar hand snaked out to pull her
roughly inside. “What --?”

“Shhh.” Quintin pressed his finger
against her lips as he threw the bolt that locked the door and
marked it Occupied.

“Are you all right? Are you sick, I’ve
got –“

“Nope.” His arms slid around her waist,
pulling her tightly against him. “I’ve very, very healthy.” His
hips rubbed suggestively into hers. “See?”

“Yes, I do.” Her hands splayed on his
broad chest. “Quint..you are very naughty.”

“Why, because I want to be alone with
the woman I love? Can’t I just hold you for a while?” His lips
roamed over her neck, following the low opening of the sweater. “I
love you.”

“I am so happy. From now on we start
our days together.”

“And end them the same way.” His lips
caressed her mouth, his tongue making a languid advancement into
the honeyed sweetness beyond. His hands pulled her sweater free of
her slacks to slide warmly over her spine. His fingers released the
hooks on her bra.

“What are you doing?” Stevie hissed
into his ear. “Quintin, we can’t do that on an
airplane.”

“Who says?”

“The FAA or the FCC or the FBI. I’m
sure this is a federal violation of some government agency with
initials. Oh, damn, we are probably going to get arrested.” She
whispered and unbuttoned his shirt.

“Do you really care?”

Hazel eyes locked into brown. “Right at
this moment, not one iota.” Her fingers luxuriated in the virile
curls that covered his sinewy torso. She pressed quick, hard kisses
over his chest and shoulders. “Do you know how much I love
you?”

“Yes, I think I do.” Quintin easily
pulled off her sweater and bra and put them on the door hook. He
bent his head, his mouth homing in on her taut nipples. A satisfied
groan announced his pleasure as he sucked the velvety
nubs.

Her body was drowning under waves of
delicious sensations. She could feel him harden beneath her
caressing hands; her fingers sought the zipper of his jeans as he
unbuttoned her slacks.