Enchanted (14 page)

“No. That, my dear, is something I’ll never give up. Someone told me once that good things must be done in moderation
,
lest they become boring and routine.”

“All good things?” she asked, peering over the top of her soda.

He thought about her question a moment, wiggled his eyebrows and grinned. “Not all, I suppose. Some things should be done excessively.”

“I think we’d better change the subject,” Kathleen said, licking the oozing secret sauce from the side of her burger, never taking her eyes from Mac’s. How is it possible that one man can look so good? she wondered. Roses, Big Macs, Diet Coke. How could I be so lucky?

She watched him sipping his soda, entranced by the way his lips formed around the straw—sweet, sensuous, made-to-be-kissed lips. She wanted to speak, but couldn’t think of anything to say. Something personal? No. Stick with business.

“I met with my advertising exec—”

“Wait a minute. I thought we weren’t going to mix business with pleasure.”

“But you’re here. I thought you might want to know what’s going on.”

“Listen, Kath. I’m here to have lunch with a beautiful woman,
not
with an employee. I don’t want to talk about business when we’re together.”

“Why?”

He wiped his hands on the napkin, rose from his chair to take a place in front of the window. He looked out but saw only the reflection of the woman haunting his thoughts. He turned around, his hands digging deep into his pockets. “You know, I may sound like a pompous ass,
and
a chauvinist, but I decided a long time ago that the woman I’m involved with should be free to be with me. I want someone who can travel with me, be at my side at business luncheons and dinners. You can’t do that and work, too.”

“I didn’t think we’d progressed that far.”

“I’ve thought about it since I left you this morning. I like having a woman around. I especially like having
you
around.”

She laughed. “But I work, and you seem to have forgotten I have a child. Sorry, Mac, but I can’t be what you want.”
I
t hurt her to say those words. As much as she wanted him, she knew she couldn’t be happy in that type of life.

“Ashley was here today. She still wants you. Maybe you should consider going back to her, since it’s apparent she lives up to all your expectations.”

He stiffened. “That’s over.” He walked to her side, not touching her, but stood only inches away. “Ashley’s history.”

“But she still cares.” Kathleen looked up into eyes filled with emotion, trying to determine what he was feeling. Anger? Hate? Hurt? “I’d care if you said you didn’t want me.”

His expression softened. “I want you.” He tenderly caressed her cheek. “I want the woman I was with last night. Warm. Soft. Sensual.”

Kathleen drew in a deep breath, fighting for control of the senses he’d nearly destroyed by his touch and his words. “I’m the same today as I was last night.”

He moved closer, so close she could feel heat radiating from his body. “Are you?” His fingers grazed her hairline and slipped into her disheveled bun. “I liked looking at your skin, and your legs. I liked your hair hanging down.” He found the clips that held her hair in place, pulled them out one by one, then released the band that gathered her hair into a ponytail. He let it fall, splaying his fingers through the thick waves, spreading her hair down around her shoulders.

She reached behind her to pull his hands away. “Don’t. Please,” she begged, but he captured her hands in his, brought them to his lips, and kissed the backs of her fingers.

“You’re driving me mad,” he whispered, his breath so hot, so near to her ear that she shuddered from the nearness of him.

“Slow down, Mac.”

“I don’t want to.”

Kathleen pulled out of his grasp, sliding out of the chair, quickly moving across the room where he couldn’t touch her, couldn’t make her tremble anymore, couldn’t send feelings of warmth and desire coursing through her. She had wanted this for years, but suddenly she felt smothered, trapped and rushed. She wasn’t ready for his advances. “You don’t want me, Mac. You want what you want me to be, and I can’t be that woman one hundred percent of the time.”

He threw his hands up in the air. “This is crazy, Kath. I don’t know why I thought we could ever get along. I’d take you away from all this if you’d just say the word. I’d take care of all your needs. But you argue with everything. You won’t make concessions. You don’t want to compromise.”

“I have nothing to compromise. Everything I do I do because I have to do it. I’m not rich like you. I can’t give up my job for a man who could be here today and gone tomorrow. I can dress differently, if that will make you happy. But I won’t give up my job, and I won’t be kept.” She paused, took a deep breath, and continued, her face filled with hurt. “That’s an insult, Mac. I could have dealt with everything else, but you’re treating me like I can be bought. God knows you can afford it. But I never wanted your money. I only wanted you. And all of a sudden
,
I don’t think I even want that.”

He closed the distance between them, then put his hands on her arms, not wanting her to move away again. “That’s not true. You want me just as much as I want you.”

“I don’t. You
are
pompous. You
are
a chauvinist.” She tried to pull away, but he held on tight. Her eyes blazed. “Why don’t we pretend last night and this lunch never happened?”

His jaw tensed. His eyes burned into hers. “You’re angry, and I can’t reason with anger.”

She pushed his hands away. “You’ve made it perfectly clear what you want from me. Well, I think I made myself clear, too. I want to be at the top in this company. It’s something I’ve wanted for years, and I won’t give up that dream. If you want me, you’ll have to make some concessions.”

“Oh, I want you, all right. But what about you? What concessions are you willing to make?”

“At present . . .” She gave herself a moment, assuring herself she wasn’t making a mistake in her choice of words. “I’m not willing to make any concessions.”

“Then it’s over, Kath.” Slowly, defeated, he crossed to her door, pulled it open, then turned, wanting to memorize the features of the woman he already regretted giving up, trying to compose his nerves so he could make it out of the room. But the face he saw wasn’t the one he wanted to remember; not the face streaked with tears. Real tears, not like Ashley’s. He couldn’t walk out on her now, not yet, not while she was crying.

He closed the door and leaned against it, trying to decide what to do next. Should he go to her? Should he leave and let her cry alone? Standing so close was pure torture. She hadn’t bothered to turn around, hadn’t tried to hide her tears. Hell! He’d just told her they were through, he couldn’t comfort her now.

He couldn’t reason with himself any longer, he just let his passion take hold of his senses. She was in his arms before he realized he’d moved. He shoved his hands into her hair, clutched the back of her head, and pulled her mouth forcefully to his. She struggled, but for only a moment, and then his lips overpowered her.

She wanted to hold back but couldn’t. She wanted to hate him, to push him away. Instead, she found herself responding to his kiss, opening her lips to run her tongue across his teeth to savor his taste, to let her tongue mingle with his. She relaxed in his arms. His lips left hers and trailed down her neck, to the sensitive spot below her ear. He nibbled on her lobe, ran a big hand down her back, grabbed her bottom, and pulled her closer. She felt his desire, craved it, wished they were back at the Plaza in the room where their passion could have soared.

Her legs nearly buckled when the warmth of his breath surrounded her ear, when his lips trailed across her cheek and once again took possession of her mouth. Softly, gently, while his thumbs caressed her face, he wiped the escaped tears from her eyes, then he pushed her away, holding her at arm’s length. His smoky blue eyes darkened, burning into hers. His breath was ragged. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do.

He backed away, straightened his tie. He smoothed back the hair that had fallen onto his forehead, opened the door, and looked back at Kathleen, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger, frustration, and overpowering desire. “I can’t pretend last night didn’t happen. I can’t pretend this lunch didn’t happen. I’m used to getting what I want, Kath, and the plain, simple truth is, I want you. Sometimes I have to make a few concessions, but it works both ways.” He turned and stepped through the doorway, fully prepared to leave, but he turned to Kathleen one more time. “Let me know when you’re ready to compromise.”

Kathleen stared at the empty room, gasping for breath, trying to regain her composure. Mac’s kiss had unnerved her. His words flustered her. Why did their relationship have to become a contest of wills? She wanted him. God knows he wanted her. But it would be hell finding a common meeting ground.

Mac didn’t call that afternoon. He didn’t call the next day. Kathleen kept the door shut, forcing him out of her mind, concentrating only on the accounting figures that haunted her, the copy, the artwork, all the things adding up to disaster.

She picked up the phone and called her assistant. “
Margo
, I want to see everyone working on
Success
in the conference room. Now.”

She picked up her papers and marched out of her office, down the corridor, and into the conference room on the left. She found it strange the way everyone stared, the whispers she heard. Maybe Mac had sent more flowers. No, that wasn’t possible.

She paced the floor as her staff flowed in, one by one, taking their customary places at the table.

“Are you okay, Kathy?” Jon asked.

“I’m fine. In fact, I’ve made some decisions, but we’ll talk about those later.”

Kathleen continued to stand, looking from one staff member to another. Jon she trusted. In fact, she trusted them all, but something had definitely gone wrong.

“Wayne.” She looked directly into the eyes of the long-haired aging hippie, who had disregarded her direction to change the female executive from gorgeous to professional, “What’s the meaning of this?” She held up the artwork.

“You may be the boss, Kathleen,” he said, “but McKenna O’Brien is still in charge. We’re all aware that he doesn’t like this magazine, and we’re just trying to make a few changes to please him.”

“Let me get this straight, Wayne.” Kathleen paced the length of the conference room, hands folded behind her back. She liked to have their eyes follow her, liked having their attention. “We’ve spent months laying out a plan for this magazine, and after one meeting with Mr. O’Brien you determine it’s best to go against my word?”

“Not everything,” Wayne said. “He liked that piece. I didn’t
think
it would hurt to keep it in its original form.”

She went back to her place at the table and picked up piece after piece of art copy. “What about the rest of this?”

“We decided to rework a few of the details, make it less liberal, more feminine.”

“What? Another
Woman’s Day
?
Family Circle
?” Again she walked around the table, stopping behind Wayne so he had to turn around in his chair to see her eyes, which blazed with fury.

“We thought it would work better.”

“Let me ask you this, Mr. Smith. Who is this
we
you keep referring to?”

She watched him glance around the room, watched the eyes of all her staff look everywhere but at her. “I see.”

She went back to the head of the table and sat down, picked up a pencil, and chewed on the end, glaring from one person to the next, listening to the silence that permeated the room.

“Do you make a habit of making changes without discussing them with other managing editors? Was it that difficult to come to me and tell me how you felt? How many staff meetings have we had in the last two weeks? Two? Three? What have you been doing? Artwork and articles you thought I wanted, and another set that you felt would please Mr. O’Brien?”

Only Wayne had the nerve to speak. “We knew your mind was already set, and you’ve never been a good listener when this magazine’s been discussed. The changes haven’t been just to satisfy Mr. O’Brien, they’ve been made to help you out.”