IF YOU WANTED THE MOON (9 page)

“So you’ve given up on men, have you?” he asked, to move this conversation far away from where it had veered.

“Not at al. I love men. I mean, I don’t go around. . . No,” she finaly said.

“So you hope to get married to one of these men someday and raise a family?”

“I hope to marry a man, yes. But not
any
man. No, when I get married it’s going to be the real deal, none of that open marriage, game playing stuff, you know? I want a romantic brother, somebody who won’t be afraid to wine and dine his lady. I want a brother with some sense, and with a job, and with a solid Christian background which, I know, is asking for a lot. My girlfriends tel me so al the time.

But I can’t help it. That’s what I want.”

Ethan’s heart dropped. She wanted a
brother
. She kept saying so. A
brother
. Which meant, he felt, that she had every intention of marrying a black man and a black man only. And last he looked, he wasn’t one.

But he also knew that she deserved what she wanted. “You stick to your standards too, Tori, you hear me?” he told her. “I don’t care what your girlfriends say. You’re not asking for too much. Don’t ever think that you are. Reach for the sky, Tori. You may not catch the stars, but you’l catch something.”

Tori laughed. “Thank-you, Mister. . . . Thank-you, Ethan. That was very poetic.”

Ethan suddenly began to appear uncomfortable. He looked up, across the street. “Ah, a bookstore,” he said, relieved. “Let’s check it out.”

They weren’t in the smal bookstore ten minutes before Ethan was in the History section contemplating making a purchase and Tori had drifted over to Romance. A young man with a great smile, Tori

thought, came upon her shaking his head. “Into romance are you, girl?” he asked, and Tori smiled.

“I read the occasional paperback,” she said.

“Me too, girl. Me too. Only I ain’t gonna lie like you. I don’t read no occasional nothing. I read them al, you hear me?” He said this with such a flare that Tori laughed.

Ethan heard the laughter and looked toward the Romance isle. And just that quickly, he thought, some man had rushed to her side and was laughing it up with her. It was as if she was like kryptonite to the male species. She attracted them like fleas. Grier had said Fred Morton had the hots for her too, and many other men at CDI felt that same way. Not because she was some floozie who would perform wonders in their bedrooms, they couldn’t possibly believe a lady like Tori Douglas was that easy. They wanted her, from what Ethan could conclude, simply because of who she was. Tori. Stunningly beautiful. Smart and witty. Honest and steady. The kind of woman you kept, and married, and trusted with your life. And she did have those beautiful eyes, he thought. And that gorgeous hair. And her figure, as he couldn’t stop staring at it on the plane, was far more voluptuous than he had at first thought.

And there she was. Laughing it up with some dufus who wasn’t worthy of her attention by a mile. He, in fact, wasn’t even al that good looking, not nearly as pleasing to the eyes as Ethan, if Ethan could say so himself. But he was younger, and African-American, and undoubtedly somebody who could give Tori a good time with no strings attached.

Only she did have strings. Ethan’s strings. Strings that pulsated his heart and puled her to him. And that was why he walked over to her and immediately interrupted the gaiety.

“Everything al right,” he asked Tori, although he was staring at her companion.

“And who wants to know?” the young man immediately said, finding Ethan rude and obnoxious, an alpha-male who didn’t like the fact that a beautiful woman could be seen talking to an unapologeticaly

gay guy. “
I
want to know,” Ethan said, returning the hostility, completely unaware of and uninterested in the young man’s sexual preference.

“Everything’s fine, Ethan,” Tori immediately interjected, not quite sure why it wouldn’t be. “We were just talking about books.”

“Ready?” Ethan said rather abruptly and began walking away.

Tori, with book in hand, looked at the young man and smiled. “See you around,” she said, and began walking away from Romance and toward the check-out counter with Ethan.

And when they walked out of the door, a door they could not walk through together, Ethan immediately let her pass first, but placed his hand on the smal of her back, making it clear to the young man in Romance, if he was curious at al, that he could forget it. The young man in Romance, however, was more angry than curious, as he viewed both Tori and Ethan as rude, shameless homophobes, the kind of tourists in his fair town that he despised.

The evening had been a busy one, as Ethan had Tori doing extensive Internet research on the area while he had maps of the town stretched out on the floor of his study. Although he was primarily doing other work, he would mark areas on the map as Tori gave him information. Except for a quick dinner consisting of Chinese take-away, where she ate alone in the kitchen and he remained in his study, on the phone with his business associates, they didn’t get a break. It wasn’t until one in the morning, in fact, before Tori could even think about caling a hotel. And by then, of course, it was way too late.

Not that she was trying very hard to remember to secure a room. She wasn’t. After that little episode in the bookstore, where Ethan acted as if they were a definite item, she didn’t know what she wanted to do. Go? Stay? Let the chips fal where they may? Apparently the last alternative won out because even now, as she worked feverishly, she was wiling to wait and see.

Ethan, who wore reading glasses and had his shirt sleeves roled up, finaly leaned back in his chair and exhaled exhaustively. He looked at Tori, who sat at the desk stil going over sites on the Internet as if this was actualy the way he scouted for land. Although he was working diligently on real business matters, her task was al a charade. He was sorry, and he planned to compensate her mightily for her unwitting participation, but he had no choice. Morton’s scheme was costing his company big money, milions over the long run, and if he didn’t stop it soon his company could suffer loses that he may never be able to recoup.

Tori didn’t realize he was staring at her until she finaly looked up from her computer screen. He had such an intense, worried look on his face that she wondered if he was wel. Not knowing if she should look away or dial 911, she decided to smile. Although he didn’t return her smile, he did soften his gaze.

“I’m working you too hard,” he said.

“No, it’s very interesting actualy. I always thought searching out properties were a lot more high-tech than this.”

“There’s high-tech involved too. Sky views and the like. But not when I’m involved. I try to keep it simple.”

“Yes, you do,” Tori said, openly admiringly. “I’ve noticed that about you. Is it because when you were a kid you had plenty and understands the futility of excess?”

“It’s because when I was a kid I had nothing and knows how to do without.”

“Yeah, I can relate to that,” Tori said with a laugh.

Ethan, however, continued his intense glare, as if he was too lost in trying to make a decision to even smile. He closed the file he had been perusing, as if he’d finaly made up his mind, and removed his glasses.

“It’s late,” he said, rising, “and we’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow. We’d better get to bed.”

Tori’s throat tightened at just the thought of what this moment in time truly meant. She began shutting down her computer, as if she was in this kind of situation every day of the week. She glanced at him, as he packed back up his briefcase with al of the papers he’d been working on, and she knew instinctively he wouldn’t hold it against her if she just said no, you take the bed, I’l sleep on the couch, or vice-versa.

But the problem wasn’t him, it was her. She didn’t want to say no. She’d been thinking about it al evening, dreaming about it, and it just seemed like she couldn’t move past maybe. Which meant, in her mind, that she had already moved past no.

Ethan waited on her at the study’s doorway and then she waited as he shut off al of the downstairs lights, before they headed up. He walked slowly, alowing her to lead the way, and the tension that waffled between them was palpable. For Tori it was al about moderation. She’d see how wel he would handle this, she’d decided, but that was as far as she’d let it go.

For Ethan it was a question of emotions, and why his were so intense whenever he looked at this woman. Even as she walked, in that short skirt he didn’t approve of, her gorgeous legs far too enticing to be so boldly displayed for every blue-bloodied man in Cedar Key to see, he wasn’t concerned about how wel she would perform for him in bed, as was usualy his concern in times like these. But Ethan, to his own shock, was concerned about her. Could she handle a physical relationship with him? Would she understand the parameters and accept them, or would she want more? Or
less
? Would she break his heart?

Once they were in the bedroom Tori became the embodiment of cool. She went to her luggage, puled out her gown, her bath case, her toothbrush, and walked in even strides to the massive bathroom.

Once inside, however, she nearly colapsed with worry. Was she out of her mind? She’d be just like al those other women in those magazines - women who slept with him eagerly and then never heard

from him again.

And even as she put on her gown, she was railing. It was so skimpy, she thought, it made her blush. Why did she have to grab this one of al the night clothes in her possession? And what about

tomorrow? She stil had to work with this joker. He wouldn’t be some one-night stand for her. She’d have to face him tomorrow whether she wanted to or not. This was insane, she finaly said when her panic attack was ebbing, and then, without another thought about it, she hurriedly opened the bathroom door and stood, once again, in the bedroom.

Ethan, talking on a cordless phone, was puling his shirt out of his pants and unbuttoning it.

“Ethan?” Tori said forcefuly, the bathroom door she’d just flung open banging back against the jamb, her thin-layered blue silk gown so short and airy that the breeze from the door slam fluttered it.

Ethan looked at her, at her gown first and then into her face, and it didn’t take a psychic to see what was on his mind. He spoke softly into the phone. “Let me cal you back,” he said. Before he could hang up, however, Tori was already railing again.

“I know you’re my boss,” she said, “and I know I have a job to do - a job I wil gladly do. But sleeping in the same bed with you is not part of my job description! Now I know you have this reputation to uphold, you are, after al, the love doctor in the business world from what I’ve read, but I’m not one of your patients. I’l work like a dog if I have to, to keep my job, but that’s as far as it goes with me.”

Ethan stared at her, at the anxiety al over her pretty face, and then he walked to the night stand and placed the phone in its cradle. “Come here, Victoria,” he said with a serious look on his face, as Ethan stared at her, at the anxiety al over her pretty face, and then he walked to the night stand and placed the phone in its cradle. “Come here, Victoria,” he said with a serious look on his face, as composed as she was unhinged, not even looking at her as he spoke.

Tori walked over to him, anxious to see what his next move was going to be, her mind racing with al kinds of unflattering possibilities, such as, you’re fired. “Yes?” she said, her back straight, her stance as dignified as possible given her attire. But as soon as Ethan turned and looked at her, especialy when his eyes surveyed the nipples of her breasts poking brazenly through her shear gown before he looked into her face, her posture nearly slumped.

“Do you dance?” he asked her.

She hesitated before responding, wondering if this was some kind of trick question he was asking. “If you mean do I know how to dance, then the answer is yes.”

He pressed a button on the night stand and Anita Baker started singing
Sweet Love
seemingly through the wals. “Dancing relaxes me,” Ethan said as he walked up to Tori and placed his arms around her thin waist, and then slowly puled her against him.

They began slow-dragging, with Tori’s entire body on fire with the kind of intense feelings only Ethan’s touch could bring. The fact that they were in his bedroom, the fact that there was only one bed in that bedroom, the fact that they were flirting with danger now, did not register as he held her. His hands felt like torches on her skin, blazing through her thin gown, and her breasts pressed painfuly tight against his broad chest. She looked into his eyes, wondering if he could possibly feel half of what she was feeling, and the look that he returned to her, filed with what she could only describe as a mixture of passion and great concern, relaxed her. She laid her head on his shoulder and alowed him to lead.

They danced, through
Sweet Love
,
Giving You the Best that I Got
, and
Ain’t No Need of Worrying (What Tonight is Gonna Bring)
, before either one of them looked up again. Even during the lul in the songs, as one ended and another began, they didn’t break their tight embrace. Ethan’s heart was like a torrent of pain. What was he doing, he wondered. This wasn’t some pleasure trip, some chance for him to bed his logistics supervisor. This was an opportunity for him to stop the bleeding Morton had inflicted on his company, and he needed Tori free and at Morton’s disposal to make it work. But he was entangling her, in his own web, a web that, right here and right now, he seemed incapable of untangling. But he had to, he finaly decided.

He slowly, almost regrettably, stopped moving and, in so doing, forced her to take her head off of his shoulders and look into his eyes. He smoothed her hair out of her face and smiled at her.

“What’s the matter?” she asked him, seeing the anxiety through his smile.

“I’ve got to go, sweetie,” he said. Tori’s face became so concerned so quickly that it concerned Ethan.