Champagne Romance (Romance Novel) (11 page)

“
I believe you dropped
this.”

Swan gave him a cool blank glance, “Thank
you.”

Then, she dismissed him with the turn of her
shoulder. That was it! No hint of recognition! Nothing!

For Swan, she was more upset by the handsome
gentleman than she was outwardly showing. She was disturbed by the
intensity of the piercing blue eyes of this stranger’s gaze that
seemed to reach into her soul and beyond. He made her insides
quiver and she immediately closed any more of a view of him by
totally turning her back.

Still boiling with rage, Slater returned to
his table. Excusing himself, he indicated that an emergency had
developed and he was needed at the office.

Sitting in his Jag and trying to settle down
with a smoke, Slater watched the doorway where Swan would
eventually have to emerge from the restaurant. An hour later, he
was reward for his patience. He followed her every move with angry
eyes as she slipped those long lanky legs that he remembered so
well into her silver Mercedes. He felt a bit like a stalker as he
watched her pull from her parking place and steer her vehicle onto
Pacific Coast Highway, but it bothered his conscience--not.

Five minutes later, Slater followed Swan as
she was turning into a posh condo overlooking the Pacific. An
address was all that was needed to hack into the computer and get
the information that he wanted. Returning to his office, it wasn’t
long before he had a complete dossier on her history. From there,
he planned their reunion.

CHAPTER 28

It was really quite simple to arrange a
meeting with Swan. After finding out that she had a business of
interior design, Slater’s secretary called for a consultation.
Within twenty-four hours, Swan came through the office door and was
entering his space on his turf.

Anticipating her arrival, Slater willed his
body not to react. Safeguarding his thoughts, he stood, as society
would dictate when Swan emerged through his office door. Without so
much as a flicker of an eyelash in recognition, he put on a poker
face. Soberly, he took the hand offered to him that to his relief
was denuded of any wedding ring. It was soft and well-manicured as
he knew it would be.

Swan wore peek-a-boo red shoes with scarlet
toenails that matched her delicate red fingertips. She was dressed
in a professional navy pinstripe suit appropriate for a business
interview. Under her jacket she hid her soft lush breasts with a
creamy silk blouse that clung and gave only a hint of cleavage.
Around her neck was a string of pearls. On the tips of each earlobe
was a single drop of pearl.--Slater wondered hostilely if a lover
had given them to her.---Her glorious red hair was pulled back in a
severe, but chic low ponytail making her eyes look powerfully
large. She was elegantly, but professionally dressed. Her demeanor
let him know that she was ready to do business.

Baby blues and aqua blues met, clashed, and
challenged. Her eyes dared him to let his rove again. Because he
was perceptive enough to know it would annoy her and for the pure
pleasure of it, his glance swept down again to her naked knees and
back up to her unflinching direct stare.

Swan was no novice to the attention of men.
They always seemed startled when they first met her. They all tried
to subtly glance here and there, but Mr. Slater was not subtle. She
was like a package that they all wanted to unwrap and see what was
underneath. This man, however, looked at her as though he already
knew what she looked like without her clothing. Best to cut right
to the chase and get him focused on business.

Slater knew without a doubt that this was not
the same helpless woman that he had encountered in the frozen
tundra of the Rocky Mountains. This was a confident woman---a woman
of quality and sustenance. She would be a challenge and he was
totally game. He would not be the same star struck guy on the
mountaintop. This time, he would make the rules. Their relationship
would end only when he was ready. He did not doubt for one minute
that he would have her again.

Swan had come with a portfolio of fabric
swatches, paint samples, and drawings. Slater was impressed with
her professional skills, but heard little of what she had to say.
He was curious as to why she wasn’t still modeling. Had she stopped
all together? Perhaps she had needed a diversion. She looked much
healthier, happier, and perhaps a little curvier than the last time
he had seen her.

Slater narrowed his eyes, irked at the
thought that Swan’s glow might be due to a live-in lover. He
certainly intended to find out! All he could manage to twist out of
her, however, was that she had a two-year-old son that sure as hell
wasn’t his! It didn’t take much math to figure out that a son of
his would have been three by now!

Swan left Mr. Slater’s office thinking what a
dreadful interview that had been. She felt that she had been
grilled right down to her crimson toenails. She wasn’t about to
give Mr. Slater any more insight into her personal life than he
needed, but he did need to know that she had a son that went to
preschool. She would not be working on Tuesday and Thursday when he
was home. When he had asked how old her son was, she had given him
the honest answer of two. She didn’t feel that it was any of his
business that Quinn would be three in the next six weeks. So, she
was surprised when the phone rang the next morning and that Mr.
Slater wanted her to begin decorating this week. The next day she
began.

Swan tried to avoid Mr. Slater whenever
possible, which was rarely. She had been decorating for over two
weeks. He always seemed to manage to be in the way giving his
opinion at every opportunity. He was the client and it was his
money, but somehow, it seemed more than just wanting to be involved
with the decisions.

Today, Swan was up on a ladder hanging a
picture when Slater walked into the room. Her ass was at eye level.
It gave himself a moment to enjoy her sculptured behind and
remember how the two cheeks had felt in each hand. He was itching
to test them again.

“
Move slowly,” he reminded himself,
“she spooks easily and it would be just like her to remove herself
in a dash from his tentative presence and cancel their
contract.”

Slater leaned against the door jam with one
hand in his pant pocket and enjoyed the menu before him. When Swan
noticed him, she began a shaky careful decent down the ladder. He
took two giant steps to hold it steady and to get a scent of her
perfume that had been driving him crazy for days. He could only
imagine her dabbing it behind her ears, over her breasts, and
between her thighs. As he was about to flash his dimpled grin, Bear
chose that unfortunate moment to stick his head in the partially
opened office door.

“
Hey, Ace---Well, look here. You two
finally found each other.”

The two people glanced across the room at
Bear before swiveling back to each other. Eyes locked. Swan’s face
had turned a pasty white. No denial from Mr. Slater was
forthcoming. Suddenly, the “splat” of a hand across Slater’s cheek
resonated against all four walls before it floated out the open
door on the balcony breeze. He knew he deserved the slap or there
would have been no way in hell that she would have gotten away with
that whack!

“
You bastard!”

“
Un oh,” Bear muttered as he removed
himself from the pandemonium that he had innocently created and
quietly slipped unnoticed out the door, which he had
come.

The drama unfolding in the small office space
was rapidly growing out of control. Slater never liked out of
control situations. He yanked Swan against his chest, which he had
been itching to do ever since she had walked into the Newport
restaurant. Now, he was delighted to have a good excuse to do so.
With arms and legs kicking and scratching, Slater quickly pinned
Swan on the floor of the office Persian rug, threw one leg over
hers, and held her two arms above her head. When the fury of a
scorned woman seemed to have subsided and only the heavy breathing
of spent anger could be heard, Slater raised his head. Two tears
were trickling down from the corner of each of Swan’s spiky
eyelashes.

“
Oh, hell!” In one fluid scoop, he
picked Swan up and sat her on his lap on the office couch. She was
limp like a rag doll. He liked the other Swan better. He understood
anger, even hatred, but this quiet, not talking, not reacting
woman, was beyond his comprehension. Never one to lose a battle, he
began talking to her in soothing tones and rubbing her arms up and
down. “It’s all right, Babe,” he cooed.

Something must have clicked as suddenly Swan
leaped off Slater’s lap in a flash and sprung for the door. He
reacted just as quickly and slammed his body against the heavy
frame, locking the door as he did so.

Swan started backing up and pointing a finger
at him, “You stay away from me!”

Slater had lost all reasoning by that time
and his brain was no longer on top of his head. Her cute little
butt wiggling on his lap had reminded him of how much he wanted her
again and he was not about to let this opportunity slip through his
fingers.

As Swan continued to retreat, Slater began
stocking her with giant steps. When Swan’s buttock hit the wall
behind her, she began scooting sideways toward the balcony. There
was no way that Slater was going to let her get anywhere near the
four story open space in her frame of mind. He heaved his body
against her delicate frame with just enough pressure to detain her.
As he asserted himself closer, she began to realize what a sexual
state he was in and she would have none of him. She shoved and
pushed, but it was like a gnat trying to move a boulder. She
finally slumped against his shoulder in exhaustion. He gathered her
in his arms once more and lay down with her on the large couch. He
began to nuzzle her neck until he felt a slight response.

This time Swan stiff-armed his shoulder to
create a space, pinned him with her flashing aqua blue eyes, and
asked the unanswered question that stood between them,

“
Why?”

Slater weighed his answer as he sensed that
the words he used might be the most important words of his life if
he wanted any kind of relationship with this woman. He decided to
shoot straight and give her an honest answer; “I was angry and hurt
when you walked out of my life. You never bothered to contact me.
You left me high and dry….” He put the ball back in her court, “I
might ask you the same question, why?!!”

She silently nodded as though she understood.
Her only answer was, “It’s getting late and I need to go,” which
wasn’t an answer at all.

Slater slowly sat up and ran his fingers
through his coal black hair in agitation. Swan sat up as well and
hooked her toe in the right leopard shoe that had fallen off in
their struggle. She then stood. He watched her trembling fingers
tuck in her light tan colored designer blouse and adjust her brown
tweed skirt whose zipper had moved from her side to the front. The
slit in her skirt had moved to the middle as well, giving him a
glimpse of the inside milky thighs that he would not get between
for a while longer. It was a depressing thought.

Swan touched her earlobes. She was missing
one of her gold hoops. Misty eyed and in a quivery voice she said,
“I can’t find my other earring.”

Slater, only too grateful to divert his
attention to playing the game “Find the Earring” began searching in
earnest. He finally found it under the couch where it must have
fallen during their scuffle. He watched as she slightly tilted her
head and treaded it through her pierced ear. It seemed like a very
personal thing as though she were just putting on her finishing
touch of dressing after their lovemaking.

Gruffly, Slater said, “I’ll walk you to your
car.” That was not a question, it was a statement.

Slater took Swan’s arm and proceeded to guide
her to the elevator past the wide eyed receptionist that was more
than a little curious about the commotion that had been coming from
Mr. Slater’s office. They stood in pregnant silence as the box that
enclosed them plunged to the first floor and they stepped out the
door. No words were spoken as they walked the short distance to her
luxury Mercedes. As he helped her into the driver’s side, she
looked up with hollow sober eyes and said, “We need to talk.”

Slater only indicated he agreed with a sharp
nod as he thought, “You’ve got that right!” As she pulled out of
the parking lot, he made a mental note of her license tag
number---just in case she decided to pull a Houdini.

CHAPTER 29

The next day was Saturday. It was the middle
of the morning when Swan’s phone rang. When she looked at the
caller ID and saw that it was Slater, she was a little perturbed as
she wasn’t sure that she was ready to spill her story. So, when she
answered the phone, she answered with an annoyed tone, “How did you
get this number? It’s unlisted!”

Not a good omen, thought Slater. “Does it
matter?” he snapped with the same nasty tone.

As silence followed their verbal encounter,
Slater finally gave an inch and said that he had gotten it off the
application that she had filled out with references. It was not a
exactly a great beginning. The whole conversation had the makings
of going downhill really rapidly.

“
Look,” Slater said as he swiped his
forehead in frustration, “how ‘bout I pick you up for coffee at
Starbucks?” The pause that followed more than aggravated him. He
was used to his women enthusiastically greeting any invitation he
chose to toss out at them before he could hardly complete a
sentence. But then again, Swan was the exception from the very
beginning.