The Bare Facts (14 page)

The man approached like a force of nature, bringing with him wind and rain. And the storm seemed
to be centered in him, his eyes blazing green fire, fueled by electricity, fueled by something feral and primitive.

He moved toward her with purpose, and the minute he touched her, the heavens opened and rain poured down. It wet her skin, the fine linen shift she wore, and her hair. It seemed to be raining on her heart.

He whispered and thunder rumbled across the heavens, startling her, making her heart beat to the booming rhythm until she was sure, if he stopped speaking, her heart would stop.

When his mouth touched hers, it was as if she'd been struck by lightning. His touch snapped and sizzled against her, then she was in the surf, his hard body covering hers. The rain beat down against her naked skin, his naked back and buttocks. The water was so clear, as if one looked through a crystal.

He lifted his hand and rested it against her jaw, a light and cradling embrace, giving the impression he was touching something precious. The tide came in a slow and steady force, unstoppable. He smiled and she felt such a flood of warmth and pleasure that she almost wanted to weep.

The heavens crackled and exploded into such brightness that she couldn't see. But when it cleared, when the light was gone, there was only her, the black, black sand beach, the dark sky above her and her memory of a man who had created in her a longing that would never, ever go away for as long as she lived.

With a cry like that of a wounded animal, she called out his name.

She jerked awake from the dream drenched and trembling. Dylan was holding her tightly against him, smoothing his hand over her hair, rocking her softly as she clutched him in the dark room.

 

H
OURS LATER
, Haley opened her eyes to find Dylan standing at the window. He still wore the leather around his chest. He seemed so serene, so at peace standing there, and she realized immediately that this was a haven for him. No wonder he brought his women here. He turned to look at her then and smiled, offering her his hand. She slipped from the bed and realized that it was dawn. Very gently she unbuckled the leather harness and removed it from his chest. He sat down in a chair and pulled her onto his lap, snuggling her close. The sky was lightening over the mountains and as it rose, it brought vibrant pinks and stunning violet.

“That was some nightmare you had. What was it about?”

“I don't remember,” she lied, snuggling down into his warmth. The symbolism in her dream wasn't lost on her. She was a journalist after all, a writer who used words as easily as others breathed air.

“How many women have you brought here?”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I don't keep count.”

Her heart constricted painfully, but she didn't let any of that pain seep into her voice. “It's a great
romantic hideaway and close to the city. Easy to get to, as well.”

She looked up into his face, studying his solemn expression, jealousy curling painfully in her stomach. “Why so many women?”

He shrugged and caressed her shoulder.

“I guess you haven't found the right one yet, huh?”

“Guess not.”

Her heart lurched achingly. She closed her eyes and pressed her face into his shoulder. “Don't worry. Someday you will.” She kissed him on the cheek and got off his lap. “I'm going to go take a shower. I need to get back to the city and write my column.”

When she closed the bathroom door she busied herself with starting the shower, letting the numbness settle into her, into her bones until it was deep inside her.

Her head was telling her to move forward.

Her heart was telling her it couldn't be true.

Her dream was telling her it was just a matter of time.

“H
I
, D
YLAN
.
This is Margo Grant. I need a favor from you.” It had been three weeks since Dylan had taken Haley to White Haven. Once back in New York, it seemed as if all his fears about Haley being exposed to his father crowded in around him.

He'd lied to her about bringing women to White Haven. Haley was the only woman he'd ever brought there, but she would see that as significant and he couldn't let her hope that there could be any future for them. So she thought he was the kind of man that slept around. It was probably one of the biggest reasons she thought to ask him to help her out with the fantasies.

“Hi, Margo. What can I do for you?” She sounded tense and anxious.

“Haley wants me to help her paint her living room tonight. She's in one of those nice but dingy-walled apartments, and you know how she loves color. Any way, I'm babbling. If you don't have plans, could you help her instead?”

“Sure. I needed to talk to her anyway. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, but when my mother summons, I do my duty.”

“I hear you.”

“Bring a pizza. She loves pizza.”

He wanted to get the last fantasy out of the way so that he could break it off with her altogether. Then maybe he could start sleeping regularly again. Something had happened to them the last weekend they'd spent together, something had changed. Somehow the lovemaking had taken precedence over the fantasy, both for him and for Haley, and that was why he'd lied about bringing women to White Haven—to destroy any feelings Haley might have for him.

He'd wanted her body. He hadn't been able to hide that. Even the memory of his desire stirred a coiling, intense need inside him. And she'd wanted him, too. What he had to suppress was his need to want more from her.

Dylan went to the door of his office, but before he could grab the doorknob, it twisted and Donald Westin poked his head into the room.

“Could I have a word with you, Malone?”

“Yes, sir.”

Donald came all the way into his office and closed the door. “I want to say that this Green Dog business was handled exceptionally well. I had faith in you when you were a kid, and now that you've surpassed even my expectations, I'm happy to throw this party in your honor.”

“That's generous, Donald, but it was a team effort.”

“Just like you to say that, Malone.”

“It's true, sir.”

“When I make the announcement about the international account, I'll be sure to mention that.”

“I would appreciate it.”

“Speaking of teamwork, a partner in life is just as important as partners in business. When the senior partners choose a junior partner, we take a look at everything he or she does.”

“What are you saying?”

“We're going to be choosing a junior partner within the next six months. You, my boy, have made my shortlist. If you want a word of advice from me, choose someone suitable to your station in life. You'll need a woman who knows and understands the ropes.”

Donald left and Dylan turned to look at the gorgeous Manhattan skyline.

He knew that Westin was snidely referring to Haley and that she wasn't good enough to be considered even remotely as a mate for him. Donald was wrong. It wasn't Haley who wasn't good enough. He'd never let any more of Westin's snide remarks cause her pain. She didn't fit into his life because she was too damn good to fit. She was real and he certainly didn't want her to change for him. But she'd been instrumental in him landing that international account. In fact, it was her idea that had turned the tide. How could he not invite her to the celebration?

He could give a damn about jeopardizing his position at the firm. Haley had made it quite clear she
wanted nothing at all to do with him on a personal basis.

In fact, she'd tried to steer every encounter they had into either business or pleasure. Nothing long lasting and nothing personal.

Inviting her to the party was a mistake. Yet, she deserved to be there. He wouldn't allow her to be the butt of Westin's snobbery or open her to any ridicule. With a little nudge from him, maybe she would decide she didn't want to go.

 

H
ALEY OPENED
the paint can. The distinct smell assaulted her nostrils. She looked at her watch and wondered where Margo could be.

She'd planned to paint her apartment to get rid of the dull gray walls. She'd already pulled all the furniture away from the walls, covered the pieces, as well as the carpets, with tarps and taped the woodwork.

There was a knock on the door and Haley smiled. Margo never let her down. When she opened the door she was stunned to see Dylan there holding a pizza.

“Dylan. What are you doing here?”

“Margo couldn't make it. She asked me to fill in and bring pizza. She hoped that would get her off the hook.”

“Margo called you?” Haley felt her stomach drop to her toes. “She has your number?” Haley felt the first darts of unease stab at her heart.

He dropped his eyes and looked away from her. Her throat constricted.

“Well, yeah. She called me right before I left the office and said she was supposed to help you paint tonight, but something came up.”

This wasn't like Margo at all. She always called Haley when she couldn't fulfill an obligation. She hoped Margo wasn't avoiding her. A sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.

It was hard, but Haley didn't let her emotions show. “Come on in.” She would act nonchalant if it killed her. Obviously her romantic notions from the previous weekend were way off base. She'd had the impression that Dylan wanted her and only her. What were the chances that he and Margo had hooked up?
Very good,
a little voice said. Margo was acting so strange lately. Haley didn't know what to think.

Haley'd made it quite clear that she wanted nothing but the fantasies and he hadn't said anything about a relationship anyway. So there was nothing to fret over. She walked to the kitchen and pulled out two plates and forks. Setting them on the counter, she reached up for the cups.

Dylan put down the pizza box.

“Seems like you've been talking to Margo a lot lately.”

Dylan shrugged and opened the lid. He didn't meet her eyes and Haley's hopes sank deeper than the
Titanic.
The last wild weekend had been nothing more than that. A wild weekend. The rafting trip and Dylan's tenderness and interest in her were fleeting. She felt the distance grow between them. Why wouldn't he be attracted to Margo? She was perfect wife ma
terial, classy, well dressed and savvy. She was impeccable in business and social situations, always knowing the right thing to say and never putting a foot wrong. He could do worse…like her.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“Whatever you have is fine.”

She pulled out two sodas and set them in front of the plates. Coming around the counter, she sat next to him. She picked up a slice and pulled off all the cheese, then took a bite.

“What's the point?”

“I don't like cheese.”

“Then why did Margo suggest pizza? She's your best friend. I would think she'd know what you eat.”

Haley's heart squeezed in her chest. It was true. Margo was her best friend, but Dylan was so irresistible. Maybe Margo had decided to unload that friendship. “Oh, I love pizza. It's the cheese I don't like,” she replied, keeping it light.

Dylan smiled and shook his head. The silence stretched between them. Dylan finally spoke, interrupting the frantic thoughts that were whirling in her head. “Your idea for Green Dog shot sparks off my people. We put together a preliminary pitch and landed the account.”

“That's great. Really, Dylan. That's wonderful.”

“I thought you might like to join in the celebration. We're having a party on Saturday, and I would like you to come.”

“Maybe we can finish the last fantasy on Saturday and celebrate my imminent promotion to feature
writer before we go our separate ways. The magazine's readership has jumped since I took over the column.” She had to end it after the last fantasy was complete. Sarah, the regular column writer, would be back next week, and Haley had no need for Dylan's “services” anymore. He'd be free to explore his relationship with any woman who caught his fancy. Haley would be out of the picture.

“Good. You do have something…tasteful.”

“Something tasteful? What is that supposed to mean?” She put her pizza down on the plate, her stomach drawing into knots.

He didn't say anything for a moment, and then he spoke, his tone low and vehement. “Nothing. It seems to me that you've probably never been to this type of party.”

There was a long strained silence. Her breath jammed in her throat. “You said image was more important to you, Dylan. I guess you were telling the truth.”

“Why are you reading more into it than there is?”

“Why are you getting all defensive?”

“I'm not the one getting defensive.”

Haley immediately thought of Westin. “Is this Westin talking?” Meanwhile, Dylan didn't say anything, but she could see the truth on his face. “He did. Didn't he?”

“Westin made an offhand comment, yes.”

“Then why would you invite me?”

“Haley, Green Dog was your idea. How can I not invite you?”

“Dylan. I don't need to be approved by some hoity-toity people to make myself feel better.”

He grabbed her arm when she went to turn away.

“Good for you, Haley. I'm saying it all wrong and that was a hypothetical situation when we discussed image at the cabin and doesn't apply to us. I want you there. It's as simple as that. That is, if you want to come.”

“I can see why you're asking me, but it doesn't have to be a date. We just have the sex between us.”

He stared at her, a somber expression in his eyes. There was a strained pause; then he spoke, his voice gruff. “I need a date. Why not you?”

She nodded and put down the bottle of soda with trembling hands. “Okay. Let me think about it. It's no big deal, right?” She had no idea this would hurt so much. He really did care more about image than about her.

“Right. It's your call. Whatever you decide is fine.”

She touched his arm and said, “I really appreciate the offer.”

He nodded and said, “We better get to work. It's getting late.” He closed the pizza box and wiped his hands on a napkin. They both turned from the counter at the exact time and bumped into one another. Instantaneous heat flared like a glittering blaze, infusing her body with crushing desire. His unexpected movement sent her off balance and her hands clutched at his shoulders to steady herself as his hands automatically came around her slender waist.

“Damn,” Dylan breathed, their faces inches apart. She could feel the hot core of her womanhood pressing into him. The desire in his eyes was almost tangible and her eyes widened. Her belly twisted with the same stunning need she'd experienced as she watched his sleek, glistening body move over her before.

With slow increments of seductive motion, his mouth moved down to hers and, very gently, he brushed his lips against hers. Haley felt the brief contact throughout her whole thrumming body. In reaction, her fingers dug into his steely shoulder muscles as breathtaking need rocked though her.

The brief contact of his mouth was not enough, was not barely enough. She wanted more, so much more. Dylan seemed just as affected. He pressed his mouth more firmly to her soft yielding lips. He brought her closer, his arms cradling her body gently.

She felt his stomach muscles tighten as he leaned back to press her to him. She groaned softly, a soft purr in the back of her throat. She could not stifle it. He was slowly drawing her beyond herself as if he was bringing her into him, into all the intense, fiery heat.

He deepened the kiss with a sigh of pure lust. His mouth undulated over hers with deliberate and intense movement, capturing her entirely. She couldn't move, she couldn't think, she could only feel, with shivering sensation, the astonishing softness of his mouth, the hard contours of his shoulders, the thick hot result of his kiss pushing insistently against her stomach.

Tentatively, she raised her hands into his thick, dark hair. The strands were soft. She felt him quiver as her fingers stroked the nape of his neck.

But he unexpectedly shifted and tried to move away. With every muscle in his body vibrating, and his strong hands still around her waist, he set her apart from him. She could feel his tenseness.

Haley was unable to let him go. She leaned forward. Pressing herself against him, she could feel his heart hammering against the side of her face.

“Haley?” His voice was gravelly with desire.

She reluctantly stepped back, beginning to turn away as Dylan's hand clamped around her upper arm.

“We understand each other, don't we?” Haley said softly.

He looked away, his jaw clenched. “About a future between us?”

“We can remain friends.”

“Of course, no reason not to.”

“Dylan. This was about sex, about the column. It was from the beginning. It is now. You didn't figure prominently in my plans. So don't sweat it.” There was no need to go into detail. Please, she pleaded silently. Don't go into detail.

She met his eyes head-on. It gave her gratification that there was regret there.

“Knowing that it's the best course of action doesn't make this go away, though,” he said thickly, gently.

“It was mutual wanton sex, Dylan. A means to an end. A business proposition. I got what I wanted from
Kate. She's reviewing my articles. She told me this week that readership is up and she believes that it's due to my column. I've made great strides at
SPICE.
It's what I wanted.”

So why was her heart breaking? Why did she feel this need to tell him how he made her feel? No man would ever make her feel the way Dylan did. No man would ever make her reckless. Perhaps she'd gotten what she wanted, but at what price to her heart?