Wild and Wonderful (5 page)

"Under the chair." She knelt to remove the fashionably heeled slip-ons from beneath the chair. Using his arm for balance, she stepped into first one, then the other.

"Let's go to the lounge." He took her arm arid started to lead her away.

Glenna stopped in stunned protest. "I can't go to the lounge like this."

"Nonsense. It's informal. There will be people there in tennis shorts. You are certainly more fully clothed than that." He dismissed her protest.

Glenna didn't attempt to argue about her wearing apparel. "But I haven't any lipstick—any makeup on." Her fingers touched the damp tendrils of curling hair. "And my hair—"

"Nothing you could do would improve on perfection." Deliberately he was too lavish in his praise, mocking her vanity.

"Dad, be serious," she sighed, unable to stay upset by his high-handedness.

"If you are determined to spoil that fresh clean look, use the powder room to comb your hair and put on some lipstick," he conceded with an indulging smile. "But don't take long. I don't want to miss him."

After Glenna had made the necessary repairs to her appearance she met her father at the entrance to the lounge. It was just beginning to fill with the happy-hour crowd. Orin Reynolds guided her to a table strategically located to permit him to observe the door. Their drink order was served—a glass of white wine for Glenna and a Perrier with a lime twist for her father. She had taken her first sip of the wine when Jett Coulson entered the lounge alone. She touched her father's arm to draw attention to the man inside the doorway, but it was unnecessary. Orin had already spotted him.

Those gleaming dark eyes were making a slow inspection of the room, not in search of anyone as far as Glenna could tell, but simply taking note of who was present. Her father stood up, attracting Jett's attention. His gaze narrowed as it touched Glenna, then returned to her father.

"Mr. Coulson." Without raising his voice from its pleasant pitch, her father succeeded in summoning Jett to their table. "I haven't had the pleasure of meeting you formally. My name is Orin Reynolds, of the Reynolds Mine."

There was a firm clasping of hands as Jett murmured a polite, "How do you do, Mr. Reynolds."

If her father's name or that of his coal mine, meant anything to Jett, Glenna didn't see any recognition register in his expression. But she was coming to mistrust those hardened features to reveal his inner thoughts.

"I believe you met my daughter Glenna earlier this afternoon," her father said, by way of acknowledging her presence.

"Yes, we…bumped into each other." The faint pause carried an inflection of dry amusement as Jett nodded to her. "Hello, again, Miss Reynolds."

"Hello, Mr. Coulson." There was a husky pitch to her voice, and Glenna wasn't sure exactly where it had come from. She seemed to be holding her breath, too, without knowing why.

No longer dressed in his tennis clothes, he had changed into a pair of navy slacks and a silk shirt in a subdued blue design against a cream background. The untamed thickness of his hair held a sheen of dampness, prompting Glenna to surmise he had probably showered. She had been so fully prepared to dislike him; now she found herself wondering why she didn't.

"Sit down," her father invited. "Let me buy you a drink." Then he paused, as if suddenly realizing. "Were you meeting someone?"

"No." He chose to sit in the empty chair beside Glenna, across the table from her father.

"What will you have to drink?" Orin signaled to the cocktail waitress.

"Scotch, neat, on the rocks," Jett ordered and her father passed the information on.

"Who won your tennis match?" Seated this close, Glenna inhaled the tangy scent of his after-shave with each breath she took. It stimulated her senses, awakening them to his rough brand of masculinity.

"I did." The reply was neither a boast nor a brag, merely a simple statement of fact.

"Naturally," she murmured dryly, goaded by the sheer confidence of his statement.

He turned his head to regard her with those gleaming, but impassive black eyes. "I always play to win."

"Don't you ever play simply for the fun of competing?" Even as she asked the question she remembered her first conclusion that he could be ruthless.

"That's the rationale of a loser." A half-smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, taunting her. Then he let his gaze slide back to her father. "I would never have guessed she was your daughter, Mr. Reynolds."

"Please, call me Orin," her father insisted and cast a smiling glance at her. "No, there isn't much of a resemblance between us. Thankfully, Glenna takes after her mother, God rest her soul. She was a strikingly beautiful woman, like Glenna."

"Don't mind him. He's prejudiced." For the first time she was embarrassed by her father's compliments. Usually when he made such remarks about her looks in front of friends or strangers, she just smiled and let them pass by without comment. This time they made her uncomfortable. Or was it the dark and knowing regard of the man sitting beside her?

Jett's Scotch was served. The interruption allowed conversation to drift to another topic, much to Glenna's relief.

"Tell me, Orin, what brings you here?" Jett questioned with mild interest. "Your daughter mentioned that she was here on a combination of business and pleasure. Is that true for you, too?"

Glenna hastened to explain. "I told Mr. Coulson of my intention to write a travel article about Greenbrier."

"Glenna has quite a talent with words. I believe she said you had read some of her work;" her father attempted to dodge the initial question.

"Yes, I have," Jett admitted but didn't repeat the comment he'd made to Glenna when they'd met before. "Do you help with the research?"

"No," Orin denied with a throaty laugh. "She does everything herself. I don't know which of us is chaperoning the other. I can't say that this is strictly a pleasure trip for me since a businessman never escapes his responsibilities, not even for a weekend. I'm sure you know what I mean."

Jett nodded. "I understand."

"What brings you here?"

Glenna marveled at the bland innocence of her father's expression as if he didn't have the vaguest idea why Jett was at the inn. His face held just the right touch of curiosity and interest. She sipped her wine, wondering if Jett Coulson realized he was being bluffed.

"I'm entertaining some lobbyists from Washington." He took a swallow of straight Scotch without flinching.

"I thought I recognized some familiar faces in the lobby. That explains it," her father stated with just the right note of discovery, but Glenna was suspicious of the look Jett gave him. "I wish there were some strings they could pull for me," he sighed heavily. "The government's threatening to shut down my mine at the end of the month."

"That's too bad."
The remark did not invite a further disclosure of Orin's troubles.

"Sorry, dear." Her father reached over and patted her hand. It was all Glenna could do to keep from jumping in surprise. "I promised not to bring up that subject this weekend, didn't I?"

It took her a full second to recover, during which she was careful not to look at Jett Coulson. She doubted that she was as adept as these two men were at concealing their thoughts.

"You did promise," she lied in agreement. "But I don't think I ever expected you to be able to keep it," she added the last so her father could reintroduce the subject.

"Glenna suggested this weekend excursion to distract me from the problems at the mine," her father explained. "But you're here…and the coal lobbyists. Which proves, I suppose, that a person can never run away from their problems."

"Not for long, at any rate." Jett rested his arms on the table, his silk-clad elbow brushing her forearm.

The contact swerved his gaze to her. Glenna realized why his regard was so deliciously unnerving. He looked at her as if she were the only woman in the entire room. The enigmatic glow in his dark eyes seemed to say that he knew a lot about her already, and wanted to know a lot more. His appeal was a devastating combination of virile charm and ruthless determination. Glenna could feel it slowly crumbling her resistance.

"How has your company been affected by the new government regulations?" Her father's inquiry released her from Jett's gaze. "I know you strip-mine the majority of your coal and have the Reclamation Act to contend with, but I'm referring specifically to the underground coal that can't be strip-mined."

The two men talked about mining in general for a while—its politics, new technology, and its future potential. Glenna became aware that her father was slowly steering the conversation in the direction he wanted it to take, subtly dropping facts and figures about his mine. When he nudged her with his foot, she took the hint.

She pushed her chair back from the table and smiled under Jett's questioning regard. "You and dad will probably talk 'coal' for another hour or more. In the meantime I think I'll go to my room to shower and change for dinner. If you'll excuse me."

As she rose so did Jett Coulson. At first she thought his action was prompted by courtesy until she saw him glance at his watch.

"It is getting late…and I have to change before dinner, too," he announced with casual indifference.

Glenna silently applauded the absence of frustration and disappointment on her father's face, two emotions that he had to be feeling. Instead he was smiling quite broadly.

"Well, I'm certainly not going to sit here and drink alone." Placing both hands on the table, he pushed to his feet. "I'll come with you, Glenna, and change for dinner, too."

When she noticed his legs appear wobbly from sitting for such a long time, she absently hooked an arm through her father's to give him support without it appearing that it was her purpose. Taking her time Glenna strolled in the direction of the lounge exit while she continued to help her father.

"Thank you for the drink, Orin." Jett Coulson kept pace with them. "And for the interesting conversation."

"I enjoyed talking to you," her father returned. "We'd like you to have dinner with us tonight. You are more than welcome to join us, if you're free."

"As I mentioned I'm entertaining guests this weekend." As he paused his gaze strayed over each of them. "You and your daughter are welcome to sit at my table this evening."

"We wouldn't want to intrude," Glenna was surprised to hear her father resist the invitation.

"You won't be intruding. Everyone at the table will probably be talking coal anyway," Jett shrugged.

"In that case—" her father made a pretense of hesitating as he glanced at her "—we'll be glad to accept."

As they left the lounge and walked to the elevator, Jett explained that he had made reservations to dine at eight o'clock in the formal dining room. By the time they reached the elevators, her father was steady enough on his feet that he no longer needed Glenna's support. She released his arm to enter the elevator first. There wasn't any opportunity to talk during the ride up to their floor since other guests had crowded into the elevator, too.

When the elevator stopped at their floor, she was surprised to discover that Jett had disembarked with them. She glanced at her father, who was also frowning in bewildered astonishment.

"Is this your floor, too?" he asked.

"Yes," Jett nodded with barely a change in his expression.

"Isn't that a coincidence?" her father declared on an incredulous laugh. "It's ours, too."

"Yes, it certainly is." The dry inflection of his voice seemed to doubt it, but Glenna couldn't be sure. "I'll see you in the dining room at eight."

As he moved off down the hall, Glenna walked with her father to their adjoining suites. Suspicion reared its head, but she didn't voice it until Jett Coulson was out of hearing.

"Did you know he had a room on this floor?" she questioned.

"Of course." He unlocked his door and Glenna followed him into his suite. "Every gambler knows he has to even the odds if he can."

"Jett Coulson plays poker, too, dad."

Her remark sent a serious look chasing across his tired facet "Yes, I noticed. And he's damned good at it, too. I never once suspected that he would decide to leave when you got up to go." Then he shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I'll have another chance."

At the moment she wasn't concerned about the missed opportunity. "Why don't you rest for an hour? You have plenty of time to get ready for dinner."

"Yes, I think I'll do that." He moved woodenly toward the bed and stretched his gaunt frame atop the bed cover.

Glenna studied him for a worried second, then unlocked the connecting door to her separate suite of rooms. She slipped quietly inside and leaned against the closed door. Had she been wrong to suggest this battle to save the mine, their home, everything? For the first time she doubted her father's ability to sway Jett Coulson onto his side.

When she dressed for dinner later that evening, she recalled her father's remark that they would go out in style. In a month they may not have a place to live, but tonight she was going to be dressed as elegantly as any woman in the room.

The jade green silk of her dress was an exotic foil to the burnished chestnut of her hair, swept atop her head in a mass of ringlets and secured by jeweled combs that had belonged to her mother. The jade material encircled her throat, leaving her shoulders and arms bare. It was nipped in tightly at the waistline, then flared into a skirt. With it she carried a crocheted shawl of silver threads.