A Love Like This - Diana Palmer Page 0,39

that was still uncomfortable. With Cal she tried to pretend that nothing had happened, that things were the same as they had been the day before. But she didn’t realize how brittle her voice was, or how false the smile pasted on her lips looked.

“Nikki,” he began as they started to get into his small corporate jet, holding her back with a gentle hand, “I want to explain something to you.”

“You don’t need to,” she said with all the bravado she could muster. She even managed a smile. “These things happen. There had to be a first time for me. I’m just glad it was with you.”

“You’re making it sound cheap,” he ground out. His fingers tightened. “It wasn’t a one-night stand for me. Will you believe that?”

She shifted restlessly. “You told me at the very beginning that you didn’t want commitment,” she reminded him. “I haven’t asked for that, have I?”

He laughed bitterly, studying her wan face. “No, you haven’t asked for a damned thing,” he agreed curtly. “But I’ve cut you up pretty badly, haven’t I? You look like a ghost of the laughing woman I brought down here.”

She shrugged. “I’ll get over it.”

“Will you really?” His eyes cut into hers. “You’re in love with me.”

“Infatuation, remember, Mr. Tycoon?” she shot back, her cheeks flaming with sudden color. “I’ll outgrow it, you said.”

He moved a step closer, and just the warmth of his big body was intimidating, intoxicating. She felt herself beginning to sway toward him, hating her own helpless reaction.

He bent, letting his chiseled mouth stop barely an inch above hers. “Will you...outgrow it?” he whispered sensuously. “Come here, Nikki. Kiss me.”

With a muffled sob she reached up to drag his mouth down against hers. “Oh damn you, Cal,” she breathed into his demanding mouth as he kissed her roughly, hungrily, crushing her slenderness to him.

He was breathing heavily when he let her go, and his eyes were darkly blazing down at her. “I touch you and it’s the Fourth of July,” he said unsteadily. “Every sane thought goes out of my head, and I want nothing more from life than the brush of your body against mine in the darkness. What happened last night, I didn’t plan. But it wasn’t casual and it wasn’t cheap.” He drew in a deep, steadying breath, “I’m taking you home because I’ve got meetings I can’t cancel, and it’s impossible for me to think when you’re with me. I’m not walking away from you. I don’t even think that’s possible anymore.”

She stared up at him, dumbfounded, her eyes telling him everything she felt, without a word being spoken.

He traced her trembling mouth with a finger that wasn’t quite steady, his broad face somber and dark in the early-morning light. In the gray suit and dark blue tie he looked every inch the conservative businessman. Her fingers rested on his thin white silk shirt, through which the dark shadowy wedge of hair was faintly, sensuously visible. She remembered suddenly how it had felt under her fingers last night while he taught her how to touch him...

“I think I’ll wither away from you,” she whispered achingly, her eyes searching his. “Like a flower out of the sun.”

His fingers caught her by the waist and held her in front of him lightly. “Don’t forget, we’ve got a date. Your birthday.”

She smiled half-heartedly. “I’ll be ready. But you don’t have to—”

“Haven’t you learned by now,” he murmured deeply, “that I don’t waste time doing things that don’t please me?”

She studied his dark face. “Do I please you?”

“What a ridiculous question. Get in the plane, you funny woman, before I leave you here.”

“Yes, Your Worship,” she murmured, dashing in ahead of him as his dark brows arched threateningly.

Genner sat in the jet while Cal walked Nikki toward the airport office so that she could call Mike to pick her up.

Her steps involuntarily dragged, her eyes glancing off the tall, massive figure beside her. She’d dreaded this moment ever since she’d fallen for Cal, dreaded the parting long before it came. And the hurt wasn’t lessened by knowing its inevitability.

He glanced down at her and his face seemed to harden. “It isn’t goodbye.”

“No, of course not,” she agreed with a weak smile.

“Your birthday is a week from Friday, isn’t it?” he asked quietly, and she nodded. “I’ll be here at five o’clock. Make a note and we’ll fly down to New Orleans for dinner. All right?”

Her poor crumpled heart lifted a little, and she managed a

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