Safari Moon (9 page)

Solo reached for the bottle of wine and
poured himself a full glass. He drank half before he realized Nyssa
wasn’t paying any attention to him and his overheated looks. After
another gulp, he pointed her in the right direction. “There is only
one bedroom. I’ll take the loft. I’ve been using it as an office.
It’ll do fine as a bedroom too.”

Halfway to her room Nyssa stopped. “I
understand your grandfather’s need to have an heir, but isn't this
going a bit far? He’s infringed on your work, your reputation. He
should know you could never be forced into marriage. A man who
looks like you and has your intelligence doesn’t need
interference.”

That shocked him. He knew he attracted women
like bees to honey but Nyssa had never acted like one of the bees.
“You like the way I look? I thought you were only interested in my
IQ and my expertise with mechanical things.”

“That’s not fair. I’m not that shallow.
There’s a lot about you I like. I just never told you because I
didn’t want to add to the size of your ego.”

“Nyssa.”

“I’m--” But she never had a chance to finish
the statement because the door burst open again and Colonel St.
John stood bold-as-you-please in the middle of the opening. His
broad shoulders nearly filled the gap.

“No.” Nyssa sounded a little breathless.

“My, my, my.” Colonel St. John grinned,
don’t look so guilty. "It makes me feel like I interrupted
something intimate."

Solo had to give him credit, the Colonel
could still make an entrance that would outdo any Texas
twister.

“So you found an assistant. But this one
doesn’t have any experience does she? I thought you were looking
for professional girls.”

Nyssa paled under the Colonel’s blatant and
degrading scrutiny. After all, she’d acted as Solo’s assistant more
times than she’d wanted to remember. And just what did he mean by
professional?

“Hang tough, Nyssa,” Solo muttered into her
ear. “He doesn’t mean half of what he says. You know how he rambles
on.”

Since Solo was aware these two people,
however dear the both of them were to him, did not get along, he
attempted diversion tactics. His good old buddy needed to retreat
to the trenches and gather a little stubborn determination. At
least enough resolve she wouldn’t cringe every time his grandfather
adjusted his bifocals.

“Nyssa, why don’t you get settled in? Maybe
freshen up a bit.”

“I’ll just be a minute.”

He chuckled softly at that line. If he knew
Nyssa, she’d take as much time to get changed and settled in as she
could. She’d never gotten along very well with his grandfather. The
situation grew worse with her job on Wall Street. The kindest word
Colonel St. John had for her after that was hmph.”

“Not your type. Not your type at all.” The
Colonel rubbed his chin and sauntered farther into the room,
checking out every nook and cranny.

Fine. If the Colonel stuck around, he could
tell his grandfather what he thought of the deceitful tactics he
used.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I stopped
taking orders from you long ago, and I don’t remember asking for
your opinion.”

“Don’t be rude, son.”

“Rude?” Didn’t his grandfather have any
concept of what the last few days had been like for him? Rude? The
Colonel had the audacity to call him rude.

“You know this will be on the front page of
the tabloids.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“No, I wanted you to pick out one of the
beautiful creatures that have haunted your doorstep and get
married. Then hopefully in the right order, I’d have a grandson, an
heir to my empire. Now you’ve ruined my plans.”

“Ruined?” Somehow his grandfather had
reduced him to one liners and he knew he had to snap out of it
soon. That’s enough,” Solo said. “Although it’s none of your
concern, Nyssa’s the most willing, eager, and able female I’ve ever
met. The question now is whether or not she’s willing to put up
with me.”

“She’s not good enough for you. She fled New
York under strange conditions. It doesn’t bode well.”

“You shouldn’t repeat gossip. You and I both
know she didn’t run away from her work,” Solo said.

“Then what happened?”

“She wouldn't tell me.”

“Of course not. Why do you think she was so
eager to follow you out here? She wanted to get her hooks into your
money before you found out how unsuitable she was.”

When Solo looked up, Nyssa stood in the
doorway of the bedroom his robe wrapped around her. She wavered
then supported herself against the doorframe.

“Excuse me.” Beside Nyssa in two quick
strides, Solo ushered her into the bedroom and to the bed.

She didn’t resist and he groaned when the
door clicked shut, realizing belatedly the implications that little
maneuver had.

“I thought you were going to put on
something decent,” he said through gritted teeth, trying not to
look at her. The huge robe gaped open and he caught a good view of
a lacy little black bra she had on beneath the robe. He teetered
between heaven and hell. “I can’t believe you wear this stuff,
Nyssa.” He cleared a throat that had gone dry and wondered how on
earth he had failed to notice the state of her undress when she
first stepped into his living room.

That was the crux of the matter. He’d kissed
her, fantasized about her, and now he knew how absolutely sexy she
was.

Nyssa jerked the robe together. With a
sinking feeling, he knew he was facing one of the biggest
challenges of his life.

“I am decent. And what stuff are you
referring to?”

“Your underwear. I mean.” He felt trapped
again, helpless. He didn’t know how to extricate his foot from his
mouth.

“You have more double standards than anyone
I know. What do you think I should wear?” She pulled the robe
tighter. “Is that better?”

God, no.
“I didn’t mean to imply--”

“Why are you going on about this? You’ve
seen underwear and women wearing that underwear before. I was
decent until I tried to find my way to your cabin unescorted. This
is all your fault.”

“My fault.”

“I was in a hurry to come to your
rescue.”

“And you pulled that off without a glitch.”
What did she think? That he could look at her decked out in black
lace and not fantasize about taking it off her? “But when I sent
you in to change, you waltzed back into the room wearing
nothing...”

“Nothing?” she question. “I never wear
nothing.”

He grinned, his smile widening. “Never? It
would be very easy to change that.” His gaze traveled a slow quest
over her, his imagination working overtime.

“You asked me here,” she reminded him.

“Stop changing the subject.”

“I’m trying to put everything in
perspective.”

Perspective?
Since she kissed him nothing was in perspective.
“All right then. Let's put things in perspective.”

“Your grandfather doesn’t think I’m good
enough for you.” She told him, but the light in her eyes reminded
him of the kiss. The kiss that left him panting for air and as hot
as a torch. They’d gone full circle again and he forced his mind
back to her words--words which were true. Colonel St. John had
never thought highly of Nyssa.

Solo didn’t like arguing with Nyssa. He
never got anywhere with her. They went round and round until
neither of them could remember the original argument. No matter
what he said, his grandfather was the problem, not her lack of
clothing. “I’m sorry, Nyssa. He’s here and I don’t know what to do.
I don’t know how long he’ll stay or where he expects to sleep.”

He held her hand and dropped a quick kiss on
the back. It was strange how he couldn’t keep his hands off her,
how he didn’t want to try. Now that he’d had her in his arms, he
wanted her there again. It wasn’t rational. Nyssa was his best
friend, he trusted her, told her everything. She knew his sins, his
weakness and his strengths. She knew that watching the sunset on
the Pacific made him feel sentimental and at times brought moisture
to his eyes.

In return, he knew she liked nothing better
than to curl up with cup of hot cocoa and a book on a cold winter’s
day. And when she watched the snow fall it reminded her of a fairy
tale her mother used to read her.

He’d always admired and respected her, and
he'd always been attracted to her. But he'd never had the
inclination to strip her naked and make love to her. “What are we
going to do?”

“Your grandfather has to stop the pictures
from surfacing. You owe me this.”

“I know,” he said.

But he wasn’t thinking about the pictures or
his grandfather as he started through the door. He was still trying
to deal with the conflicting emotions he felt toward Nyssa.

He was not himself. Or either that Nyssa had
changed so dramatically in the last few months she wasn’t
herself.

Nyssa was safe. He wasn't supposed to feel
hot and out-of-control when he looked at her. This was Nyssa,
serious, dependable, and predictable. But he couldn't forget the
feel of her in his arms, the taste of her mouth when he kissed her,
could not rid himself of those sensations no matter how hard he
tried.

Remember, he chided himself, there were lots
of women but only one Nyssa. Only one woman he could call friend.
If he let their relationship change, he’d lose the best thing that
had ever happened to him. No matter what, he wasn’t about to kiss
her again. Damn temptation. This wasn’t about sex. It was about a
relationship, a friendship worth keeping.

When he returned to the room, the Colonel
had moved to the window, and was rocking back on his heels as he
stared out. His grandfather must have heard his footsteps because
he turned, his expression sober, the lines around his mouth
grim.

“I can’t stop the pictures.”

He must have thought about what had been set
in motion. Nyssa Harrington was and had always been the last female
the Colonel would have chosen for Solo. Now, if the picture
appeared there would have to be explanations, including the ones to
his grandmother. If anything would hurt Sarah, a scandal would.

“You could stop them if you wanted.”

Colonel St. John merely shook his head. “You
overestimate my power. Oh, I don’t argue the fact that I could stop
them from appearing in any of the papers I own, but not the rest.
There are men out there who would love to see me fall down a few
pegs. And I don’t blame them. I’ve always played by the rules, but
that doesn’t mean I haven’t stepped on a few toes along the way.
”

“You expect me to believe you?” With
increasing desperation, he glared at the Colonel as he stood,
implacable, near the door. “How dare you pretend innocence. Your
want ad started all this.”

“I had your grandmother’s interest at heart.
She’d like a grandchild, soon. I admit I’ve pressured you for an
heir but this time it’s for Sarah.”

“And you wouldn’t.” Solo regarded his
grandfather with a stunned expression.

“True, but if I wasn’t concerned about
Sarah, I would not go to such great lengths. Tell me, didn’t you
find at least one of them to your liking?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you found them cheap and
insincere,” Colonel St. John laughed. “But then you’d know. You’ve
had a great deal of experience with trashy, shallow woman.”

“Not really,” Solo muttered under his
breath. “That didn’t give you the right to throw them at me.” Solo
paced and tried to think, knowing full-well his grandfather was up
to something. If he wasn’t wary, he’d be caught in the trap being
drawn around him.

“I couldn’t think of any other way to shake
you out of the complacency you’d fallen into. There is, you know,
more to life than work--and Nyssa.”

“Leave her out of this and don’t make
excuses for your behavior. You were wrong. Your attitude toward
Nyssa is unbearable and down right degrading. I won’t have her
slandered.”

“You can’t talk to me that way. I brought
you up. Saw to your education.” The Colonel’s tone held a hint of
anger.

“Nyssa comes first and if it means telling
you the truth about yourself, it’s about time someone had the nerve
to do it.”

“I would do anything for your grandmother’s
happiness, even hand pick a new Mrs. Solo St. John. If your
grandmother wants a grandchild, I’ll stop at nothing to see she has
one.” Colonel St. John gave Solo an impervious glare

“Your grandmother may not have long to
live.”

Colonel St. John turned his back on him for
a few seconds.

Solo stood there too surprised to speak.

When the Colonel turned back to the room,
his face was paler than Solo had ever seen and it seemed as if his
grandfather had aged at least ten years in the few minutes that
just passed.

“What’s wrong with her?”