Tell Me a Story (17 page)

❧

No matter how quickly said, the goodbyes were still painful. Becky had been part of Flynn's life a relatively short time, but she'd wound herself deep into his emotions. It wasn't easy to say goodbye.

Rafferty refused Flynn's offer of a ride to the airport. A taxi was expensive, but it would save them all a painful parting in public.

"You've got Frankie, don't you?" It was the second time Ann had asked the question, but Becky answered it again.

"He's in Daddy's purse."

Rafferty winced. "Carry-on luggage, pumpkin, not a purse." Ann smiled but her mouth shook and she had to bite her lip, half turning away until she controlled her expression.

"Don't cry, Ann. You and Mr. Flynn will come see us soon, won't you?"

"You bet we will, urchin." Flynn crouched next to the little girl, his eyes going over her face. "You take care of your dad, okay? And don't go getting lost in any snowbanks." He ruffled her hair, keeping his smile tacked in place. He stood up and held out his hand to Rafferty. "Take care of her. She's a pretty special kid."

"I will." Rafferty shook hands with Flynn and then took Ann's hand, pulling her close to brush a kiss over her cheek. "Come and see us soon."

"We will." Ann's smile was shaky but intact and she bent to hug Becky. "See you later, Becky."

"Okay. Say goodbye to Oscar for me."

"I will."

Flynn leaned against the edge of the door as they walked to the elevators. Behind him, Ann swallowed a sob. His chest ached as the elevator door slid open. Rafferty stepped in but Becky hesitated. She turned around and Flynn smiled, lifting his hand in a casual wave. She stared at him for a long minute and then tugged her hand loose from her father's and ran back.

Flynn dropped to one knee, catching her as she flew toward him, burying his face in her hair, breathing in all the sweet little girl smells that he'd grown to love.

"I love you, Mr. Flynn." It was as if she'd only just realized that she was really leaving him behind.

"I love you too, Becky." His voice broke on the words and he held her tighter. They stayed that way for the space of several slow heartbeats and then Flynn drew back. He smiled at Becky, reaching up to brush a tear from her cheek.

"I'll come and visit you soon. I promise."

"Will you tell me a story before I go to bed?"

"You bet. But I bet your dad tells a pretty mean story himself." Becky looked over her shoulder at Rafferty, who was standing just outside the open elevator. She looked back at Flynn, torn between the excitement of a father and the security Flynn represented.

"Go on. You're going to miss your flight and then the two of you will have to walk all the way to Colorado."

He turned her around and gave her a gentle push toward Rafferty. She took two steps and then hesitated, looking back at him. He smiled, hoping she wouldn't notice the unnatural brightness of his eyes.

"Scoot, urchin." She looked at him a moment longer, her gray eyes full of uncertainty and then turned and ran to her father. Rafferty caught her hand in his and stepped into the elevator. Flynn stood up, watching as the elevator doors slid shut, closing Becky from sight.

He shoved his hands in his back pockets, staring at the blank panels for a long time, blinking rapidly against the burning in his eyes. Behind him, Ann sobbed quietly.

He turned at last to find her leaning against the wall, her eyes brimming over, one fist pressed to her mouth as if to hold back the sobs. He put his arm around her shoulders, leading her back into the apartment and shutting the door.

"Come on. It isn't like we'll never see her again."

"I know."

"And it isn't as if she wasn't going to have a good home."

"I know." She let him lead her to the sofa and settle them both onto the soft cushions.

"Rafferty is a terrific guy."

"I know."

"So why are you crying?"

"I'm going to miss her so much." The words came out on a hiccoughed sob and Flynn's heart twisted.

"I know, love." He pulled her head to his shoulder and Ann collapsed against him, one hand curling around the edge of his shirt. "Go ahead and cry."

She cried for a long time, crying out her grief over losing Becky, but also crying out the confusion that seemed to have taken over her life. Nothing fit into the neat patterns she'd devised for herself. Most of all, Flynn McCallister didn't fit into any pattern.

When she lay still against him, he brushed the tangled hair back from her face. He dropped a kiss on her flushed forehead, tilting her face back to place another kiss on her still trembling mouth.

"I must look awful." It was a measure of her exhaustion that she didn't try to hide her tear-streaked face.

"Actually, you do look pretty terrible." Ann's eyes flew open in shock.

"What?"

"I said you look pretty terrible. Your eyes are red, your nose is red, your face is red. Actually, now that I think about it, your hair is red, too, so you look kind of coordinated. Everything matches. Think you could do it in purple?"

Despite herself, Ann laughed, which was exactly what he'd been trying for. He ducked the pillow she swung at him.

"Fiend."

"
Moi
? I was simply agreeing with you. My mother always told me to agree with a lady." His face was the very picture of injured innocence and Ann laughed again.

"What am I going to do with you?"

"I could think of several possibilities." He waggled his eyebrows in a lascivious manner. She chuckled again but it died out on a sigh.

"I really am going to miss her."

"I know. I am, too." She settled back onto his shoulder, and he wondered if the position felt as right to her as it did to him.

"I've never spent much time around children. I wonder if they're all as neat as Becky."

"I doubt it, but Becky does tend to put parenthood in a new perspective."

"Yeah." Ann sighed.

They sat in silence for a long time, staring at the empty fireplace, their thoughts drifting. The grandfather clock chimed and Flynn cocked his head, counting each mellow bong.

"Six o'clock. Their plane left fifteen minutes ago."

There was another long silence. Flynn suddenly sat up, dislodging Ann from her comfortable position.

"Where are you going?"

"There's no sense in sitting here moping all night." He stood up as Ann pulled herself upright on the sofa, tugging her shirt back into place.

"You're right. Becky is happy. We should be happy for her. I guess I'll go home. Oscar probably thinks I've died."

Flynn felt a surge of panic. She couldn't go home. Not now. Not yet. He had the feeling that, if she went home now, they might never find each other again. Ridiculous, of course, but he never argued with a gut feeling. Becky had been the tie that bound them together. Now Becky was gone. Did they have anything left?

"Dinner."

Ann looked up at him, startled by the way the word came at her so forcefully. "Dinner?"

"Dinner." He smiled crookedly, bowing low. "I would consider myself honored if you would dine with me this evening."

"Like this?" She pushed her tangled hair back and stood up, looking down at her jeans and shirt. "I look like I've been dragged through a knothole backward."

"How about if we meet in the hallway at eight. I know a great restaurant where the lobster is slathered in butter. I'll call and see if I can get reservations."

❧

Two hours later, Ann stepped nervously out of her apartment. She felt like a sixteen-year-old going out on her first date. It had been years since she'd spent so much time fussing with her appearance. She'd tried on every garment in her closet, finally setting on an emerald-green silk sheath and matching silk pumps that added inches to her height. She'd brushed her hair ruthlessly, finally pinning it into a soft Gibson girl style, leaving tendrils loose to caress her neck.

The time she'd spent was immediately forgotten when she saw the look in Flynn's eyes. He'd been waiting for her, leaning bonelessly against the wall. He straightened as she stepped through the door. Ann froze, feeling the butterflies in her stomach jump nervously. His eyes went over her, starting at the top of her head and working their way down to her elegantly shod feet and then reversing the journey.

When his eyes finally stopped on her face, Ann felt her toes curl inside the narrow pumps. He was looking at her as if she were the most exquisite thing he'd ever seen. The blue of his eyes seemed to penetrate deep into her soul, leaving her weak and trembling.

They stared at each other without speaking for a long, still moment. At last, Flynn walked toward her, his stride deliberate, his eyes never leaving her face. He stopped in front of her and Ann looked up at him. The dark suit made his shoulders seem wider than ever. Caught between his bulk and the thick door at her back, she felt vulnerable, deliciously feminine, excited and scared at the same time.

"You are so beautiful."

He reached for her hand, lifting it to his mouth, but turning it at the last minute so that his kiss landed in her palm. His mouth felt warm and dry against her skin and then his teeth closed over the fleshy area at the base of her thumb, nipping gently, sending a shiver up her arm. Ann closed her eyes, leaning back against the door when her knees threatened to give way.

His lips touched lightly on the inside of her wrist, and then he placed her hand in the crook of his arm. She opened her eyes, wondering if she looked as dazed as she felt.

"Your carriage awaits, madam."

The Ferrari wasn't quite a carriage, but it served just as well. Closed in the intimate interior, they might have been alone in the world. They didn't speak much on the way to the restaurant. There didn't seem to be any need.

The evening seemed to have a fairy-tale quality to it. The table was tucked in a dimly lit corner. The service was exquisitely unobtrusive; the food was beautifully prepared. The wine was smooth, slipping over the tongue like warm velvet. And Flynn's eyes couldn't seem to get enough of her.

Never had Ann felt so cherished, so wanted. He made her feel as if she were the only person in the room. They talked about impersonal things: food, wine, books and movies. He listened carefully to her opinion on the least of subjects, making her feel that what she had to say was important to him. It was an amazingly seductive feeling.

Ann ordered medallions of beef and Flynn ordered the lobster. When the meals arrived, he caught her looking longingly at his plate.

"You should have ordered the lobster."

Ann cut into her beef, finding it meltingly tender. "It's impossible to eat lobster neatly and I don't want to end the evening with butter on my chest." She took a bite of beef and then looked up to find Flynn's eyes on the decolletage of her dress.

"I'm sure I could think of some way to get it off." His eyes swept up to hers, and Ann forgot how to chew when she saw the hunger he made no attempt to conceal. She was grateful when he looked away. She swallowed without having the slightest idea what she'd just tasted.

Flynn concentrated on his lobster, giving her a chance to slow her pulse. But it picked up again when he dipped a bite of his entree in butter and held it across the table to her.

"You can't possibly get butter on your dress this way."

Feeling self-conscious, Ann leaned forward and took the proffered tidbit. Her teeth sank into the succulent white flesh and she closed her eyes in ecstasy, savoring the buttery richness of it. When she opened her eyes, she found Flynn staring at her. The need there made her feel like a siren. Her eyes never leaving his face, she let her tongue come out, licking the butter off her lips with slow deliberation.

Flynn's eyes blazed electric blue, making her wonder if she was starting something she wasn't going to be able to finish. She looked away, reaching for her water glass, though it was going to take more than water to quench the fire they were starting.

"I should have brought the Mercedes."

"Why?"

"Because then I wouldn't have to wait until we got home to make love to you."

The water glass hit the table with a thump as her eyes flew to his face. "What?"

"You heard me. As it is, we'll have to wait till we get home. I'm a little old for the contortions the Ferrari would require. But once I get you home, I'm going to strip that sexy dress off of you an inch at a time and I'm going to taste every single inch until you beg me to make love to you."

His tone was conversational, almost casual, and Ann wondered if she was hearing things. Then she saw the look in his eyes and knew that she hadn't dreamed the things he'd just said. She could feel the color start at her toes and creep over her body like a slow red tide until it reached her face. She stared at him a moment longer, and then her eyes dropped away and she busied herself with her meal.

There was silence for a few minutes and then she looked up again, her eyes mischievous. "Are you sure you're too old for the Ferrari?"

His expression promised retribution of the sweetest kind.

Though she knew the food was exquisite, Ann couldn't really say that she tasted much of it. All her attention was for the man across from her. They said very little during the meal, but she could feel the tension building to a boiling point.

They both refused dessert and Flynn paid the bill. He put his hand against the small of her back as they walked from the restaurant, and Ann wondered if the sparks that seemed to shoot from that light touch were visible to the other patrons.

They didn't speak as they waited for the elevator to arrive. Another couple got off and Flynn nodded politely to them as he ushered Ann into the luxurious cubicle. He pushed the button to take them to the parking garage and the doors slid silently shut.

In an instant, Ann found herself pinned to the wall, Flynn's body a heavy weight against her. Startled, she looked up but she caught only a glimpse of his eyes, dark with passion; then his mouth came down on hers.

She melted instantly, her body flowing into his, her arms snaking around his neck.

She forgot where they were, forgot who she was, forgot everything but the feel of his mouth on hers, the scent of Aramis tickling her nose. She moaned a protest when Flynn eased his mouth away. Her lashes felt weighted as she opened her eyes.

"The elevator has stopped." It took a minute for the words to sink in. She looked around, still dazed.

"Elevator?"

Flynn's grin was pure masculinity. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her out of the elevator and to the Ferrari, tucking her into the seat as if she were the rarest of treasures.

Neither of them said a word on the drive home. The tension inside the low-slung sports car was so thick, it seemed to be almost breathable. He pulled the car into his parking space, his movement controlled. Ann could feel every breath she took as they walked to the elevator, not touching, not speaking. The doors closed behind them and she was in his arms, their bodies melding hungrily.

Ann didn't notice when the doors slid open on their floor. She wouldn't have noticed if the doors had slid open on Wilshire Boulevard. Flynn bent without taking his mouth from hers, his arm catching her behind the knees, lifting her off her feet and into his arms. Ann's fingers worked their way into the thick blackness of his hair as he carried her to his apartment, kicking the door shut behind them.

He carried her through the silent rooms to his bedroom, laying her on the bed and following her down, pinning her with the sensual weight of his body.

She couldn't have said if it was hours or days later when they at last fell asleep. She was conscious of nothing beyond the warmth of Flynn lying next to her, his ragged breathing slowly steadying. He'd kept every promise he'd made her in the restaurant.