A Love Like This - Diana Palmer Page 0,48

minutes later, exchanging smug glances when they found Cal and Nikki deep in conversation in the living room. Nikki looked up, only just realizing that they must have gone for a drive to give her some privacy with Cal, and she flushed as she met Jenny’s eyes.

She made the introductions, noticing the easy way Cal was with her aunt and uncle, as if he’d known them for years. He and Mike spent the rest of the evening discussing stocks, bonds, politics and aviation, while Jenny and Nikki murmured and listened.

“How about some more coffee?” Jenny asked finally, “I’ve got a pie in the refrigerator...”

“None for me, thanks,” Cal said, rising. “It’s been a long day for me, and if you don’t mind an unsociable visitor, I think I’ll have an early night. I’ll have to fly out tomorrow afternoon for a meeting in Panama City.”

“Mike will show you which room,” Jenny said with a smile. “We’re glad you could stay, and I’m sure Nikki is,” she added.

Cal smiled at Nikki, his eyes possessive. “I hope so,” he murmured. “Good night, honey.”

“Good night, Cal,” she murmured.

“Oh, you’ve got tomorrow off,” Mike called over his shoulder. “You can’t leave Mr. Steel to sit around the house alone.”

“Cal,” their guest corrected. “I’m only Mr. Steel to my enemies.” And, with a grin, he left the room.

“Now,” Jenny began when they heard a door close upstairs, “do tell me all about that nice small businessman you met in Nassau. Remember, the one with the oversize ego...”

“I should have his ego,” Mike moaned as he rejoined them, dropping down into his big armchair by the dark window. “A corporate giant, in my home.”

“Reach for your pad, and I’ll strangle you,” Nikki said mutinously. She stood over her uncle with hard eyes. “He’s a guest, not a walking news story. Okay?”

Mike grimaced. “Nikki...”

“Promise me, Uncle Mike,” she wheedled, “or I’ll tell Aunt Jenny about that blonde stewardess...” she added in a whisper.

His jaw dropped. “That was completely innocent!” he whispered back.

“It won’t be when I get through with it. Well?” she asked.

His face pouted, his blue eyes met hers accusingly. “I may never forgive you,” he reminded her.

“It won’t be the first time, either,” she said gaily.

“I do occasionally read financial magazines,” Mike said. “Callaway Steel is something of a legend among tycoons, you know.”

“He is something, period.” Jenny sighed. “Oh, if I were a few years younger, and Mike wasn’t so sexy...”

“He’s a good bit older than you are, Nikki,” Mike said gently.

She sighed. “I know. But it doesn’t matter. We’re only friends, Mike.” Her voice was more wistful than she knew.

“He looks like he’d be dynamite,” Jenny murmured.

“He is.” Nikki sighed, walking right into the trap.

“And don’t hand me that ‘just friends’ routine,” Jenny added with a wink. “He didn’t come all this way just to say hello. By the way,” she added, patting Nikki’s cheek as they went into the hall ahead of Mike, “your lipstick’s smeared.”

Nikki wouldn’t have touched that line with a shotgun. “Good night,” she called as she raced up the stairs.

* * *

“IS IT ALWAYS this quiet?” Cal asked lazily as he and Nikki lounged by the private lake under a towering oak tree on the grassy lawn the next morning.

“Most of the time,” she agreed. She was lying on her stomach in a bright yellow sundress, watching Cal, who was stretched out on his back wearing slacks and an unbuttoned brown plaid shirt. His thick, dark hair was mussed and fell into unruly patterns on his broad forehead. It made him look younger, but those hard lines in his face were still very much present.

She tickled his imposing nose with a blade of grass, laughing when he caught her wrist and pulled her over so that she was propped up on his broad, partially bared chest.

“I like you in yellow,” he murmured, opening his eyes to study the peasant-blouse styling of the dress. “It suits your personality.”

“Mushy?” she asked with arched brows.

He frowned. “How did you get that?”

“Well, you said it reminded you of my personality, and butter is yellow but mushy...”

He chuckled softly. “Your mind would fascinate a research scientist.”

“Umm,” she murmured. She only half heard him; she’d just discovered a faint dimple in his chin, and her fingers were tracing it.

“What I meant,” he murmured back, linking his hands behind her, “was that you’re sunny.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

His dark eyes searched hers. “Life hasn’t been kind to you,” he said gently. “Neither have I, in a

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