Mac's Angels: The Last Dance: A Loveswept Classic Romance (13 page)

She remembered.

His apartment was almost Spartan in its decor. There were rough, sand-colored walls, simple furniture of a light-colored wood, and rugs that resembled Indian blankets. From the foyer she could see a
fireplace in the living room that might be found in any adobe house in the Southwest.

Sterling looked around in amazement, then over her shoulder at Mac. “It’s lovely. Does the fireplace work?”

“Of course. There’s another one in the library where Burt set up our table. Would you like a fire?”

“I’d love a fire.”

He moved her chair through the doorway into a small room lined with books. Several overstuffed cream-colored couches nestled around a larger fireplace already bright with glowing coals.

“Looks like Burt already decided we needed one,” Mac said.

This time there was no holograph, no window opening on the outside world. Instead, the lights were low, supplemented by thick white candles ringed with poinsettias in the middle of the table.

“It’s lovely. I can see why you never leave Shangri-la. You have everything you want right here.”

He stopped the chair for a moment, allowing her to take in the setting Burt had created. “Almost. Almost. Can you stand? I think you’d be more comfortable in the chairs Burt arranged.”

“Of course. I told you I can walk. Short distances are fine; it’s the long treks that hurt.” She leaned down to fold the footrests up.

“Let me.” He made a move toward her feet.

“No!” she said sharply, then raised up, regretting the sharpness of her voice. “I’m sorry. It’s just that
since I left the rehabilitation center, I’ve never had anyone so … close.”

“What about Conner?”

She laughed as she pushed herself up. “His stealth in the marines might have given him his nickname—The Shadow—but when it comes to nursing, he has two left feet. Seriously, it took a long time, but I don’t think he sees me as handicapped anymore. There are times when I have to remind him that I can’t climb mountains or swim oceans.”

Mac helped her into her chair and pushed it beneath the crisp white tablecloth. Then he moved the wheelchair and turned to the wine cabinet. “Looks like Burt has chosen the wine. I hope you like this one. I have it sent in from France.”

“I can’t say that I’m a connoisseur. I—I don’t drink much. For so long being clearheaded was more important than satisfying my taste buds.”

Mac filled her wineglass then his own. As he sat down he raised his glass. “A toast, Sterling. To Bond and Moneypenny, two lost souls together at last.”

She smiled and touched her glass to his. “No, Mac. To Sterling and Mac, two lost souls trapped in a mountain by a madman.”

He sipped his wine. “I liked my toast better.”

“Mine is more honest.”

“All right, then. Accepting that honesty is the best policy. Tell me about yourself?”

“Myself? You already know more about me than anybody else has ever known, including Conner.”

“I don’t mean the accident. Tell me about the
woman who was going to be the CEO of General Motors.”

“She’s been gone so long, I’m not sure I even remember her anymore.”

“That’s probably just as well. Most of the corporate women I’ve dealt with are alligators.” He glanced across the table at her and smiled. “I like flower children better.”

“I might, too, but I’m afraid I don’t fit into that category either. My life is pretty much Paradox, Inc. I run Conner’s company, not the actual business part of it. There are warehouses and accountants for that. I deal more with the overall picture. He needs a product and I find it. He wants to sell something unique and I find a buyer. If someone needs him to do something, I facilitate it.”

“And you look after him,” Mac said softly.

“I did. Now he has Erica. I’m having to learn to step back and let her claim the man she married.”

The fire crackled in the silence.

“That must be hard,” Mac said. “I’ve never had to let go—except once. I’ve always been more concerned with shoring up.”

“You sound like you’re talking about buildings, not people.”

“I guess I am. Being close to people isn’t something I’m comfortable with. Would you like some music?” he asked, abruptly changing the subject.

“Am I going to get another chorus of ‘Santa Claus Is Coming to Town’?”

He stood and moved over to an entertainment
center on the wall just inside the door. “Not if you’ve made your list?”

“No list,” she said. “I expect Santa to know what I want. It’s the same thing I’ve asked for every year.”

He hit a button and the sweet voice of Celine Dion sang softly through the room. He listened for a moment, then said, “If you didn’t get what you asked for, maybe you’re asking for the wrong thing.”

She thought of her childish request for someone to love her and nodded. “I think you’re absolutely right. That’s why I stopped asking.”

There came a knock on the door.

“You decent, Mac?” It was Burt.

“Of course I’m decent.”

“Too bad. In that case, I’m coming in.” The rotund chef rolled a serving cart into the room. “Evening, ma’am. I’m sorry, you must have taken the wrong turn. I’m supposed to be serving Ms. Lindsey, not a model from the Victoria’s Secret catalog.”

Sterling gasped. “Is that where this dress came from?”

Burt leaned closer and studied her. “Golly, it
is
Sterling. Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t recognize you.”

“I’m not surprised,” she said, tugging once more at the neckline of her gown. Apparently, it really was a gown, not a dinner dress. She’d been on the lingerie company mailing list for years, but she never ordered anything. Her normal sleepwear was an oversized T-shirt and cotton underpants—not the sensual underwear she was wearing tonight.

“The food Burt?” Mac frowned at his employee.

“Sorry, boss. I know you’ve had your mouth set for eggplant-and-onion casserole ever since you smelled it in the kitchen.”

Sterling bit back a smile as Burt placed fine china bowls filled with a creamy tomato soup before them.

“I hope you like the meal, Sterling.” Burt winked. “The company I can’t guarantee, but I tried to prepare something that would make the evening special.”

He winked at Mac. “I’ll just leave the rest of the serving to you, boss. There’s room underneath for the plates. The casserole is warming and the dessert is on the cart.” He backed out, reached for the door, and lowered the lights even more.

“Don’t forget your surprise, boss,” he said. “I put it on the cart for you.”

Sterling took a sip of her soup and sighed. “If everything is as good as this soup, I’m in trouble.”

Mac tasted the soup. “If you follow Burt’s advice, you may be in more trouble than you think.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“First, he’s late. Second, his jacket was only half-buttoned. And third, unless he’s not feeling well, he’s taken to wearing lipstick?”

The clink that followed was Sterling’s soupspoon landing in her bowl. “Burt?”

Mac grinned. “Never knew Burt to let anyone in his kitchen but family and—Elizabeth.” The grin widened. “Imagine that. Elizabeth and Burt. Do you think?”

Sterling didn’t want to think. The soft candlelight, the romantic music, and the evening Burt was orchestrating didn’t need any thought.

“Now, about that alligator,” Mac said. “Tell me more about how she turned into the lady I’m fantasizing about.”

“Mac, don’t do that. I’m no man’s fantasy. I put that kind of life behind me long ago.”

“Why?” he asked curiously.

She looked at him with a touch of irritation. “That should be obvious.”

“What’s obvious is that you’re a woman who doesn’t have a clue about how beautiful she is.”

Sterling blotted her lips with her napkin and placed her spoon in her empty bowl. “Please, don’t do this, Mac.”

“Do what?”

“Tease me. I’m having enough trouble dealing with what happened. I’ve been moved away from my home and forced to face the possibility that I may not come out of this whole thing alive. That tends to make a person vulnerable. And now you’re … you’re making me uncomfortable with your … flirting.”

He tensed. She was right. What was he doing? Sitting across from Sterling, he was as excited as a teenager and he was only making it worse with his suggestive conversational gambits.

Without thinking, he slid his hand over, covering hers. A new bolt of desire connected them and she stared at him. There was fear in her eyes, uncertainty,
and the kind of naked need that couldn’t be denied. It wasn’t just him. It wasn’t something that either could turn on and off as though it didn’t exist.

“Sterling.” He stood and moved around the table. “I don’t think I like this any more than you, but damned if I want to stop it. You’re right, I’ve been lonely. I’ve just had to learn to live with it.”

She stood, pushing her chair back. “With the airport and
that
man, everything changed and I don’t know how to change it back.”

Then she was in Mac’s arms, strong arms that supported her and pulled her close. No, she didn’t—couldn’t want this.

Mac groaned. “Sterling …”

Then he brushed her lips and she knew that this was what she’d wanted from the first time he’d touched her. It was a shock to realize that she was so ready, so willing. As his lips touched hers she stopped fighting her desire and caught her fingertips in the buttons of his shirt, drawing him closer. He wasn’t a great deal taller than she, but she was forced to tilt her head slightly to allow him access to her mouth. He lingered there, then moved to her eyes.

“I slept last night,” she whispered. “And I dreamed about you. I never have dreams like that. And I don’t want to.”

She felt his heart beating against her fingers. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. There was an intensity about him that said he was no more in control of his actions than she was in control of hers.
She was way out on a limb here and she didn’t seem to be able to get back.

His lips scrubbed her cheeks. “You shouldn’t have to dream about me wanting you. It ought to be real.”

“What are you saying?”

“I think we’ve talked enough, Sterling.”

“No.”

He kissed her neck. “Are you sure?”

“No! I … I mean, yes.”

“Good. Talking isn’t what I have in mind.”

“Put me down, Mac! I can walk.”

“Shut up, Sterling.”

He kissed her again. This time the kiss wasn’t gentle. It was rough, demanding, and it turned her mind to mush. He needed her. And tonight she needed to be needed. For so long she’d been afraid. Years had passed before she’d realized that she had suppressed any thought of physical desire and now it roared through her like an out-of-control fire.

“What are you doing?”

“Carrying you off to bed.”

“But—but—I don’t … I mean, we can’t. I don’t … speak Danish,” she muttered inanely.

He pulled back and looked at her. Her words brought a grin to his face. “Trust me, Sterling, language skills don’t matter.”

Mac strode into his bedroom and to the bed. “Lights on. Dim,” he said, and let her feet slide to
the floor. Moments later the Victoria’s Secret gown was gone, as was Mac’s shirt and shoes. He jerked his socks from his feet, unzipped his jeans, then paused and looked up at Sterling.

He groaned.

“Where did Elizabeth get that underwear?”

“Burt was right. The labels say Victoria’s Secret.”

“Remind me to arrange for an outlet here.”

He reached out with one finger, rimming the dusky rose of her nipples through the thin fabric of her bra.

Slyly, she copied him, running her finger along the elastic edge of his briefs. “Since I don’t get out much, I haven’t shopped at one of their stores. Aren’t most of their customers men?”

“If their models look like you, I’d say men are their best customers.”

She hesitated. “I doubt they’d hire me. The women I see in the fashion shows are very tall and thin.”

He unhooked her bra and let it fall forward, freeing her fall breasts. “If that’s true, just think how much their sales would increase if they hired you.”

Under his intense gaze, she was beginning to shiver. Another minute with Mac and she would lose all self-control. That is, if she had any to begin with, when he was near her.

He clasped her tightly with one arm and pulled back the cover. After that she didn’t know what happened, only that her panties and his briefs were gone
and he was leaning over her. They were touching, every inch of them sliding against the other’s corresponding parts. Touching, kissing, exploring until she felt herself urging him closer.

Spreading her legs, he nestled down between them and then, still kissing her, he was inside her. Her body instinctively tightened around him. It had been so long since she’d felt such hot, urgent need. So long since she’d felt connected with a man. No connection had ever felt like this. When he raised himself, she followed, unwilling to let him go. When he descended, she pressed herself against him and felt her nerve endings start to explode.

The rapid breathing, the moaning; she didn’t know if it was Mac or her. The ever-intensifying heat. The release that sent her spinning into another dimension.

And then he collapsed on top of her, unable to move.

For a long time he lay there, waiting for his muscles and nerves to return to life. A heartbeat threatening to send him straight to the emergency room of the nearest hospital finally began to slow.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and slid to the side, rolling to his back. “Did I hurt you?”

“Hurt me?” she whispered, wondering, with her vow of honesty, whether or not to tell him that she thought he probably had, though not physically. “No,” she whispered. “I’m fine.”

“You’re sure. I mean, I was pretty rough on you and it’s been a long time.”

“Could you tell?”

“I couldn’t tell you what day of the week it is right now, Sterling. I mean I was so aroused that I might have …” He slipped his arm beneath her head and drew her close. “I don’t know what to say.”

Sterling didn’t know what to say either. She thought it would be the woman who was speechless after an orgasm, not the man.

“So, what did we just prove?” she finally asked.