Mad About The Man (18 page)

"
Are you sure you
'
re ready for me?
"
He narrowed his eyes and ran his fingers through womanly hair.
"
I do believe you are.
"

"
Should we go to bed?
"
He shook his head. His grin was purely feral.
"
You mean—
"
Breathing hard, she indicated the sky and the hills.
"
You mean, out here?
"

"
Uh-huh.
"

"
In front of the world?
"

"
The thought appeals to me
…
again.
"

His fingers shifted and Gaby squeezed her eyes shut.

"
D
'
you think you ought to make sure I
'
m ready?
"
Jacques said. Then he chuckled hoarsely.
"
You little puritan. You
'
re blushing again. Do as you
'
re told. Check everything out.
"

"
I—can
'
t think.
"
Her pelvis jerked under his attention. She glanced down, over his beautifully defined chest, his flat stomach where black hair narrowed to a
thin line, then flared again…
and on to that which was so very ready.

The spasm he evoked with such ease broke upon her.
"
Yes,
"
she said through her teeth.
"
Yes.
"
Jacques didn
'
t have to help her. Gaby braced her hands on his chest, rose to her toes and sank, taking him inside her.

B
lack satin sheets forever!

Gaby luxuriated, stretched like a satisfied cat on the disarray that was Jacques
'
s bed. The champagne and orange juice, her second, slid smoothly down her throat, leaving a tangy, bubbly taste on her tongue.

Pleading fear for their strength, Jacques had left to forage in the kitchen for emergency rations of food. And he
'
d absolutely refused to allow her to help him.

She could get really hooked on Jacques Ledan. The telephone on the fax machine beside the bed rang. Seconds passed before Gaby looked disinterestedly at the single sheet of paper that rolled out.

The transmission ended.

Fax machines didn
'
t belong in the bedroom. She stretched again and rolled to her stomach. The good news was that the presence of this machine probably meant Jacques was used to being here alone. That shouldn
'
t matter, but it did.

Gaby looked down on the document that lay in the fax receiving tray.

To: Jacques From: Bart

Subject: Napoleon Paradise

She turned her head away. Jacques
'
s correspondence was none of her business.

Napoleon Paradise?

"
Napoleon Paradise!
"
Gaby rose to her elbows. Everyone knew who that brilliant little eccentric was. Mr. Extravaganza himself, the recluse who lived on a private island in the south Pacific and created never- never land theme parks.

With a stomach that churned horribly, Gaby started reading the fax:

When he
'
s ready, he
'
s ready. If he says it
'
s a go, the acreage starting at the old Odle place and covering the whole five-hundred-acre parcel will have to be clear-cut within a month. Then Napoleon will pay another visit. He says the leprechaun theme has
"
possibilities.
"
Wants you to
consider an adjoining hotel in conjunction with shuttle service to Tahoe. Thinks the gambling angle adds to sense of unreality.

Gaby dropped her forehead on her hands.
No!
There would be nothing left of Goldstrike by the time these maniacs finished.

She raised her head and continued reading:

He says he
'
ll see you one week from yesterday, Saturday next. Be prepared for contract signing. He
'
ll arrive in his own
"
amenities
"
—whatever that means, and will expect you to receive him at nine in the evening
.

This guy is a fruitcake. Only conducts business between nine at night and four in the morning.

Almost forgot. Wear a tux! Napoleon says he is always
"
an event
"
worth dressing for.

PS. Acknowledge this. Where the hell are you?

Gaby heard approaching footsteps in the hall and pressed her face into the pillow.
Be prepared for con
tract signing?
And just like that a decision would be made that would change Goldstrike forever. Her mind raced in circles. What had passed between her and Jacques meant something, didn
'
t it? Surely he
'
d be more willing to listen to her now.

Perhaps he
'
d even change his mind completely
…
The door opened to Jacques
'
s vocal attempt at
"
Music of the Night
"
from
Phantom of the Opera.

He
had
to change his mind. She would make him— somehow.

"
Gaby, love? Hungry?
"

She didn
'
t move. Whatever happened, she must not let him know she
'
d seen the fax.

"
Sleepyhead,
"
he murmured.

Sounds of dishes clinking followed. Then the bed sank under his weight and he sat beside her.

Gaby squeezed her eyes more tightly shut. He
'
d had this house a long time. Regardless of what Jacques intended to do in the area, he wouldn
'
t suddenly stop coming here w
hen the project was finished…
would he?

Her stomach turned again. Was that it? Had the motivation behind her opposition of the project changed? Did she fear the loss of Jacques more than the loss of Goldstrike?

The crackle of paper almost stopped her heart.

She held her breath.

"
Ass,
"
she heard him mutter at last. Then the paper rustled again and he rested a hand between her shoulders. Very lightly Jacques caressed the line of her spine all the way to the point where the satin sheet barely covered her bottom. That
'
s where he kissed her.

The air rushed from her lungs, but she held still.

Spreading his fingers, he spanned her waist and began to skim upward over her ribs—to the place where her breasts rested. Jacques feathered over that soft flesh until Gaby could be still no longer. She attempted to twist toward him. Jacques
'
s response was to slip his hands beneath her breasts and lean to kiss the back of her neck.

"
You look good here,
"
he said, nuzzling aside her hair.
"
Right.
"

Gaby felt tears spring into her eyes. He could not
know how certain innocent little phrases played with the heart.

"
Out in the hills—when I found you yesterday— you said I already knew you. What did you mean by that?
"

"
Exactly what I said.
"

Carefully, he turned her to her back.
"
I guess I
'
m missing something. I didn
'
t know who you were until someone told me.
"

"
Yes you did.
"
She met his eyes steadily.
"
I meant that I am what you see. I
'
m not what I do or where I
'
ve been or with whom.
"

Jacques lifted her hands to his mouth, kissed each knuckle with absorption and stretched her arms above her head.
"
Don
'
t you think where we
'
ve been and who we
'
ve been there with affects us as people?
"

"
They may cause a few wrinkles in the wrappings. Inside we
'
re still the same.
"

The way he stroked the sensitive inner sides of her arms made Gaby flinch and breathe harder. Jacques, wearing sweatpants and nothing else, studied her face, her body. He suddenly smiled and dropped a kiss on her belly.
"
You
'
re a deep woman, Gaby McGregor.
"
Yet again his li
ps and fingers began to work their magic. She willed herself not to react.

Abruptly he released her arms and swept her up into his embrace.
"
Would you like to take me for what I am, Gaby? And what I
'
m not?
"

The tension in his voice squeezed her heart.
"
Yes,
"
she said simply, nestling—so naturally—into the warmth of his big body.

"
I
'
m glad. That would be a first.
"

"
People like you identify with things, Jacques. I don
'
t. I don
'
t want to know Jacques Ledan, multi-millionaire candy king. It
'
s what
'
s inside that counts.
"

He became absolutely still.
"
Why do I almost believe you?
"

She bit back the anger that surged.
"
Because it
'
s true. Not everyone is in love wit
h wealth and every
thing that comes with it
.
"
This wasn
'
t the time to explain that she could have lived—could still live— the so-called good life.
"
I
'
d like you just as much if you were
…
a farmer or a man struggling with some little business. You
'
d still be you.
"

"
Would I?
"
He put her gently from him, pulled the pillows up behind her head.
"
That
'
s a unique thought. I may have to work it through. I brought coffee and sandwiches.
"

Settling herself, but unable to relax, Gaby tucked the top sheet up to her armpits.
"
Jacques.
"
There might never be a better time.
"
Could we talk about Goldstrike?
"

He paused in the act of pouring coffee.
"
If you like. Cream and sugar?
"

"
No, thanks. Some of what you propose may have very positive results.
"

"
I
'
m glad you approve.
"

His sarcasm stung.
"
You said you would discuss this.
"

"
And I am.
"
He gave her a mug, put a plate of sandwiches on the bed and sat in a chair.

With her eyes on the coffee in her mug, Gaby took several slow sips.
"
Would you be prepared to con
sider some compromises?
"

He stared at her.
"
I always listen to reasonable people
'
s opinions.
"

Unfortunately she hadn
'
t prepared for this opportunity. Whatever argument she came up with would be grabbed from the air.
"
My idea is that you meet with a delegation of residents to talk over what is or isn
'
t acceptable.
"
She almost winced at the dictatorial note in her own voice.