As Hot As It Gets (16 page)

“Claire, stop blaming yourself. Carter had everyone fooled, including me. He was the one running the prostitution ring.”

Her eyes widened. “Wow. I'm glad you found your culprit.”

“I am, too.”

She leveled an indecipherable look at him. It wasn't filled with hatred, at least. “Thank you for saving me. I guess I'm just not used to being in a position of needing to be saved.”

“Especially not by me, right?”

She stood up from the gurney, still holding on to the edge of it to steady herself.

“You feel okay?”

“Yes,” she said, and Mason could hear a familiar coldness in her voice again. “What time is it? Too late for me to catch a flight back to Miami?”

The thought of her leaving twisted his gut into a knot. “There's still one more flight out this evening, but we need to talk first.”

“I think we've said everything that needs to be said.”

He dared to reach out and cover her hand with his. She glared at his hand, then up at him. “Not everything,” he said.

“If seeing me with Carter, or seeing me in danger, or whatever, gave you some misguided notion that you still want me, forget about it.”

A slap in the face couldn't have stung any more than her words did. “Claire, I know how you feel about me—or how you think you feel about me—but can you put aside the anger for a few minutes and hear me out?”

“You're presuming to know how I feel, too?”

“You've made it pretty clear. Now I need to be clear about how I feel. I love you,” he blurted before she could interrupt him or storm out the door.

Claire opened her mouth as if to speak, but for once he'd managed to leave her speechless. The hostility drained from her expression. “I'm sorry this whole mess has left you so confused, Mason.” She withdrew her hand from his. “But there's no way you can mean that.”

“I do mean it,” he said. “Why don't you stay another week and let me convince you.”

“I can't. I need to be back in Phoenix, and besides, I know trouble when I see it now.” She offered him a weary smile and edged toward the door. “You and me? We're nothing but trouble together.”

Mason felt as if his one true chance at happiness were slipping from his fingers, and the sensation stopped him cold. How had he gotten so crazy? How had he let himself fall in love with Claire?

Stupid question. He'd known from their very first encounter that she was right for him. That's why he'd been sabotaging them from the start. He hadn't wanted to find anyone to fall in love with.

“I'll come to Phoenix then,” he said.

She shook her head. “No, don't.” Her gaze turned flinty. “I mean it.”

And with that she walked out the door. The sound of her footsteps retreating on the hallway tiles left him feeling hollow, empty, alone.

Three words, he realized miserably, that aptly described his entire life without Claire.

C
LAIRE HATED PROPELLER
planes. She may have been a seasoned traveler, but sitting on a tiny aircraft, hearing the noisy whir of the engine, feeling every bump and rattle of turbulence that knocked such a small airplane through the sky, made her wish she could just stay in one place.

The flight attendant closed and sealed the aircraft door, then began going through the routine safety procedures brief. A few passengers paid attention, while others read magazines or shuffled through their bags. Claire tried to force herself to listen to the instructions she'd already heard countless times.

Anything to keep herself from looking out the window at the palm trees swaying in the wind and the sky turning orangey-pink on the horizon. Anything to keep herself from thinking of staying.

Anything to keep from thinking about giving her and Mason another chance.

It would be crazy.

Insane.

A fool's pursuit.

Then why had some little part of her been aching to go back to Mason ever since she'd walked out the door of the clinic?

In case of a water landing, the seat cushion may be used as a flotation device.

To distract herself, Claire imagined having to pry the seat cushion from the seat as the plane filled with water, but that only made her even sicker to her stomach. She wanted the hell off this plane.

And she didn't.

She was just letting her fear of propeller planes get to her. No way did she really want to go running back into Mason's arms. Not after all the time they'd spent proving how wrong they were for each other.

Arguing, fighting, butting heads…

Making love, laughing, talking…

She couldn't let herself romanticize their time together now. She had to keep her memories accurate. Force herself to remember it how it really was.

But when she tried, her thoughts focused on how right she'd felt in Mason's arms, how their bodies had worked so perfectly together, how he'd made her laugh harder than anyone else ever had, how when they'd had those long talks over meals, during walks, and in the early morning hours after making love, she'd felt like she'd found her soul mate.

No.

If she remembered those things, then she also had
to remember the arguments, the frustration, the very obvious fact that they were both too strong-willed to be more than temporary lovers.

And most important, she had to remember that until this evening, Mason hadn't wanted a serious relationship with her. He may have been feeling confused thanks to Carter drugging her this afternoon, but come tomorrow, the danger would fade and Mason would be back to his old playboy ways.

But her father popped into her head then. Her father, who she realized now was a lot like Mason. And Mason was the first guy she'd ever met whom she'd let see the real her, the side of her that only her father and her best friend knew. The side of her susceptible to falling in love with a guy just like Mason.

Mason may have been the only guy she'd ever thought could match the standard set by her father, but she'd been wrong. If Claire gave him another chance, she'd get hurt again.

No doubt.

Except, that is, for the giant lump of doubt that had settled in her belly and was expanding by the second, threatening to rise up into her throat.

Or maybe that was just the fear of propeller planes getting to her, confusing her. Yes, that had to be it.

No.

Yes.

No.

The plane's engine grew louder, and it began rolling forward down the runway, preparing for takeoff.

Claire felt herself reaching for her seat belt, unbuckling it, standing up from her seat.

“Wait!” she heard herself yell.

What the hell was she doing?

The nagging voice of common sense was getting drowned out by the sound of the plane's engines as Claire raced up the aisle. The flight attendant, wearing a stern look, stood up from her seat and scolded her. “Sit down immediately! You have to be in your seat for takeoff.”

“I have to get off this plane! It's an emergency.”

An emergency sounded a little dramatic, but she could think of no other word to describe the driving force that had propelled her from her seat and down the aisle.

“Ma'am, you'd better be serious about this,” the flight attendant said, looking doubtful.

“I am. Please stop the plane.”

Other passengers were watching the spectacle and murmuring among themselves. A man seated nearby said, “Hurry up and let her off so we can get to Miami.”

“Have a seat and I'll see what I can do,” the flight attendant said, then turned and went to the cockpit.

A moment later she returned and nodded at Claire just as the plane slowed to a stop. She unlocked and opened the plane's door again, then lowered the stairs for Claire to exit.

On shaky feet, Claire raced down the rickety steps and out onto the Tarmac, then jogged the distance back to the shuttles, where one was just about to leave for the resort.

Claire sat among passengers looking weary from long flights, some of whom must have witnessed her hasty exit from the plane judging by their curious stares. She avoided eye contact and tried to get the jumble of thoughts straight in her head.

What the hell was she doing?

She was afraid of the answer, but she knew. She needed to see Mason one more time. She needed to know, once and for all, if he really and truly loved her.

She needed to find out if they had a chance together. And then what?

Would she be ready to commit? Would she be ready to take the biggest chance of her life?

She wouldn't know the answer until she saw him.

When the shuttle bus stopped in front of the resort's main entrance, Claire exited and raced into the lobby to the reception desk. Skirting the line of guests, she caught the eye of an employee and gave the woman a pleading look.

“Mason Walker—where is he?” she asked.

The woman must have recognized her as Mason's recent companion because she came to the counter and smiled. “He's not in his office, but he was here a few minutes ago. I heard him say he was going for a walk.”

“A walk?”

The woman, whose name tag read Celeste, nodded. “If I had to guess, I'd say he's probably on the south beach. He goes there sometimes.”

Claire smiled. “Thanks, Celeste.”

Celeste smiled back. “Good luck. We all think you two belong together.”

We all?
Claire felt her cheeks warm at the thought that she and Mason were the source of gossip among the resort employees. But whatever.

She waved and took off for the beach.

Twenty minutes later, her feet were coated with sand, her hair had been whipped into a ratty mess by the wind, and Mason was nowhere in sight. She was about to give up her beachcombing when she spotted a lone figure down the beach, perched on a large piece of driftwood, watching the sunset.

Mason.

A crazy-giddy-nervous feeling stopped her in her tracks, and she felt like she might lose her lunch.

This was it. Her last chance to run away or confront Mason and decide their fate.

Together or apart.

Which would it be?

Then he turned and saw her. He rose up and came walking toward her, and Claire willed her feet to move. Forward, backward, somewhere. But she couldn't move.

Now he was close enough that she could see his
puzzled expression, feel his gaze searching her for answers.

“Hi,” he called out, managing to make it a sort of question.

Claire whispered, “Hello,” knowing he couldn't hear her, but suddenly unable to make her voice work.

Now he was a few feet away…. A foot… A matter of inches.

The breath whooshed from Claire's lungs.

“What happened to your flight?” he asked.

“I made the plane stop during takeoff. I got off.”

“Why?”

“I had to see you.”

His expression went from searching to surprised and back again. Nearby, a seagull cried and a large wave crashed near the beach, sending the water racing toward them. Claire felt it engulf her feet up to her ankles, but she couldn't look away from Mason.

“Here I am,” he said.

“Here you are.”

“Now what?”

“I think we should probably kiss.”

Mason reached out and circled her hips with his hands, then pulled her to him. He kissed her slowly, tentatively, like a man who didn't know where he stood.

She felt like she'd come home.

Far away from her condo in Phoenix, far away from her job, her life, everything she knew, on the
beach with a man who'd turned her world on its head, she was finally home.

He broke the kiss. “Now what?”

“I don't know,” she whispered.

“Do you love me?” he asked.

She surprised herself by answering without hesitation. “Yes.”

“I love you, too,” Mason said, and she melted into him.

Claire hadn't realized how much she'd ached to hear those words again and how sweet they'd sound when she finally heard them.

He continued. “Sounds like we need to do something about this.”

Claire nodded, her throat constricted by a wave of unexpected emotion.

“We can't keep butting heads if we're in love, can we?”

A laugh erupted from her throat, clearing the way for speech. “Actually, I think we can.”

“But we shouldn't.”

“No, we should try to get along.”

“We were doing a pretty good job of it for a while there,” he said, smiling.

“I think we can do it again.”

“Our entire lives?” he asked.

Claire's jaw dropped, and he smiled that sexy smile of his that could make women strip naked.

“Will you marry me, Claire?”

Her eyes burned with tears, but she didn't have to think over his offer. It might have been unexpected, but she suddenly knew it was the question she'd wanted most to hear.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked.

Mason, perpetual bachelor, the guy who'd eluded marriage in spite of his famous eligibility, couldn't possibly have understood what he was saying.

“I've never been so sure about anything, so no more questions from you.” He hugged her tighter against him, mischief dancing in his eyes. “I want an answer.”

For once, she was obliged to heed his demand. And as crazy as it seemed even to her, she knew there was only one answer. “Yes, I will.”

“We'd better do it fast then, before you change your mind.”

“I'm not going to change my mind!” But she had no objections to a fast marriage. She'd always believed in going for what she wanted sooner rather than later.

“And I have every intention of pulling out all the stops to keep you satisfied.”

He placed a soft kiss on her lips that grew into a hungry one, and Claire smiled inwardly. She loved Mason's idea of satisfaction.

Sweet, hot, all-night satisfaction.