IF YOU WANTED THE MOON (10 page)

“Go?” she asked, astounded. “Go where?”

Ethan hated this as much as she did, but he knew he had to do it. “I need to take care of some business.”

“Business? At this time of night?” Tori regretted her words as soon as they left her mouth. She was talking to him as if she was some worried girlfriend, not his employee, which stunned her. “I mean, I thought you were pretty tired.”

Dead tired, Ethan thought. “I was. I am.” Then he, once again, ran his hand through her silky hair. “You aren’t afraid to stay here alone, are you, sweetie?”

“No,” Tori replied, meaning that much.

Ethan smiled. “Good,” he said. “Now give me a kiss.” He said this in an almost whisper, as his eyes trailed down to her lips, and before she could actualy do anything he was kissing her. Her entire body shuttered as he kissed her, as his rich lips burrowed into hers with a gentle expertise that floored her. He moved his mouth in circular motions as he kissed her, and for al of her big talk and railings against what she would not tolerate, it would have taken an army of nuns to prevent her from letting him take her to his bed.

When he finaly stopped and removed his warmth from her mouth, they both felt thriled and burdened at the same time. Especialy Ethan, who had to wil himself to move from her side. And even when

he did he took her by the hand and walked her to the bed. He puled the covers back and literaly laid her down and tucked her in. He leaned over her, his hands on either side of her shoulders, and stared into her eyes. “Try and get you some good rest,” he said to her.

Tori smiled. Could she be dreaming al of this? “I wil,” she said.

“You’ve been doing a good job for me, Tori, you understand? I’ve been getting reports on you and they’ve been nothing but excelent. You’ve proven yourself to be more than worthy of your hire.” He said this and smiled, with smal age line appearing on the side of his eyes that made Tori feel oddly secure.

“Thank-you, Ethan,” she said near tears, as if he was the only human being who understood her burden and was finaly lifting it from her. “Thank-you so much.”

Ethan’s expression was unreadable, a kind of smile-frown look of discomfort, and then he kissed her lightly on the forehead and left the house.

Tori turned over in the big bed and wanted to scream her elation. He’d been checking up on her, he said so himself, and the reports were al good. That was al she needed to hear. He didn’t hate her after al. And even though she was concerned about his sudden need to leave the house, especialy at this time of night, she wasn’t overly concerned about that either. He might have been going to another woman, he might have been taking care of business just like he said, he might have just needed some time alone. She didn’t know. But she did know, in her soul, that he cared about her. And although he was probably assuming that she was destined to be one of his conquests, just one of the many females he’d loved and left, she was going to prove him wrong. Because he wasn’t going to be conquering her.

She was going to be conquering him.

****

Tori woke up the next morning late, close to eleven a.m., and hurried downstairs before she showered and dressed, certain that Ethan would be waiting and angry that she was so slothful. But he wasn’t there. Not in the study, not in the kitchen, not on the deck out back. She was relieved and worried at the same time. He stayed out al night, which was bad enough, but she absolutely would have expected him back by now.

But even after she showered and slipped into a summery sleeveless short green dress with pink and white trimmings, a big flop hat and sandals, and made her way downstairs once again, he stil had not shown up. She waited, in fact, on his livingroom sofa, until after one, but there was not even a phone cal from Ethan. There had been phone cals
for
Ethan, with almost al of the calers females, but nothing from Ethan himself.

What was remarkable to Tori was that not one of those women calers dared to ask who she was, as if they, like her last night, had some romantic notion that she was the one and even if there were other females sniffing around, he wasn’t interested. Tori shook her head. She tried hard to not think about last night, when they found themselves locked into such a romantic embrace that only a kiss could have ended. And did he kiss her, she thought, remembering the sheer passion of it. Ethan Chandler knew what he was doing, was a wel-practiced hand, and she, like so many before her, she believed, fel right into his numbing trap.

Enough of this, she thought, as she grabbed the
Black Seasons
magazine she had brought downstairs with her, and went out onto the back deck. She was in Florida, on the beach, in the summertime, and she wasn’t about to waste this opportunity pining away over Ethan Chandler. He was probably stil in bed with some woman anyway, Tori thought, since her speech last night made it clear she wasn’t giving it up, and she’d look like a fool sitting around inside a house worrying about him. Last night was beautiful, she stil believed, but it was just that. A night. A moment in time. A moment of weakness giving it up, and she’d look like a fool sitting around inside a house worrying about him. Last night was beautiful, she stil believed, but it was just that. A night. A moment in time. A moment of weakness that Ethan was probably off somewhere regretting now.

She stayed on the deck for a few minutes, and then found her way out onto the beach. She took off her sandals and walked in the sand, the peaceful water lapping up onto shore and then easing back.

The beach around Ethan’s home was quiet, as his neighbors in those row houses seemed to take the water’s majesty for granted now and didn’t feel a need to be flopping around it every chance they got.

Tori finaly sat down near the water’s edge and after staring out into the wide blue yonder, opened her magazine and began reading more Enquirer-like articles about the black upper crust. She was so enthraled, in fact, with an article about the failure of black leaders of today to fuly appreciate the economic, rather than the racial, concerns in the community, that she did not see the young man who had been staring at her for nearly ten minutes, until he was sitting down beside her.

“Oh!” she said, clutching her heart. “You scared me.”

“Didn’t mean to,” the young man said. He looked cheerful, Tori thought, a tal, good-looking, twenty-something brother in dreads. He wore shorts and a
Come to the Bahamas
T-shirt, although his voice was decidedly American. “You read intensely.”

“Pardon me?”

“I was watching you for quite a long time. You never once looked away from what you were reading - as if those pages had encapsulated you. It was refreshing.”

“Why is that refreshing?”

“I write. And writers love readers.”

“Oh, a writer. How different. What’s your name? Perhaps I’ve heard of you.”

“I doubt that. Unless you have a thing for Greek mythology. I debunk the myths, or, to put plainly, the errors in the historical records.”

“That’s al you write?”

“Afraid so. And then I teach what I’ve written to wide-eyed colege Freshmen. I’m Neal Hurst.” He said this and extended his hand.

Tori gladly shook it. “Helo, Neal. I’m Tori Douglas.”

“Tori Douglas. Nice to know you, Tori. You live here, or. . .”

“Oh, no. I’m just here for a few days working actualy. My boss owns that big blue house over there and I’m staying with him.”

“Lucky him.”

Tori smiled. “Nothing like that. He’s scouting this area for some prime real estate and I’m his assistant.”

“Like the work?”

“The little I’ve done, yes. We just got here yesterday.”

“Is it al business or. . . a combination thereof?”

“You mean between me and my boss?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, yes,” Tori said, resigning herself to that fact. “He’s al business.” Except last night, she wanted to add, when business was the last thing on his mind.

She didn’t add it, of course, and she and Neal moved their conversation to other things, like the town and its’ people, and hurricanes. Tori, by now, was completely relaxed, as she laughed and talked and enjoyed Neal’s company thoroughly. He was a shameless flirt, he even admitted it himself, but there was something so harmless about Neal that Tori didn’t even mind.

The only time she was riled at al, in fact, had nothing to do with Neal. It was when she looked over at Ethan’s house in the middle of laughing at yet another one of Neal’s jokes, and saw, to her shock, Ethan himself sitting on the deck. He was dressed casualy, in a pair of jeans and a polo shirt, his muscular body leaned far back in a chair and staring, through dark sunglasses, directly at her. Tori stood and told Neal that she had to go.

“Right now?” Neal asked dumbfounded by her change in mood, as he stood quickly too.

“Yes, I have to go now,” Tori said, flecking the sand off of her summer dress and gathering up her sandals and magazine. “But it was nice talking with you.”

“Have dinner with me tonight,” he said in what sounded like a desperation grab.

“Dinner?” Tori asked, looking once again Ethan’s way.

“Yes. I live right over there. The bright yelow house.”

Tori smiled, looking at the house. He would live in a yelow house, she thought.

“Wil you come?”

Tori hesitated. He was nice enough. But what would Ethan think? But then she realized that Ethan didn’t care what she thought when he left her alone last night. “Yes,” she said and Neal sighed relief.

“How’s eight?” Neal asked.

“If I can get away, eight is fine. But I realy have to go.”

“Get away, Tori,” Neal said to her as she began hurrying away. “You’l be glad you did!”

Tori wanted to turn back around and thank Neal for the invite, but she dared not. Even from fifty yards away she could tel Ethan was in one of those bad moods of his again.

Tori wanted to turn back around and thank Neal for the invite, but she dared not. Even from fifty yards away she could tel Ethan was in one of those bad moods of his again.

Ethan was in a bad mood al right, as he watched Tori come to him, that short, sleeveless dress pretty but revealing far too much of her for his liking. And that big flop hat she had on her head, making her look like some sixties flower child, had him wondering where on earth did she shop for her clothes. And then he looked pass her, at the man she was talking to, the tal, lean, good looking young black man that had her so giddy she could hardly contain her joy. Ethan had spent al night holed up in some hotel room al alone thinking about Tori, and half the day besides, and the last thing he expected was to come home and find another man invading his territory. And that was the thing that had disturbed him from the moment he first met her to now. The connection. The territorial way he felt about her. The unshakable, undeniable feeling that Victoria Deborah “VD” Douglas - Tori - belonged to him somehow. Even now, when he was in one of his foulest moods as she raced up the stairs of the deck toward

him, he stil felt that way about her. She, and only she in this world, was his.

“Helo, Ethan!” she said jovialy, hoping that her high-spirits would lift his. “Were you sitting out here long?”

“What do you think?”

Tori didn’t like his tone one bit. “What?”

“Ready?” Ethan asked as he stood, his abrupt manner causing Tori to swalow hard.

“Yes,” she said and, not knowing what exactly she was supposed to be ready for, quickly put on her sandals and folowed him anyway, as he hurried down the stairs.

They traveled by helicopter al over the vast lands of not only Cedar Key, but al of the Florida Keys - from Key West inward to Key Largo outward. Over Cedar Key they viewed the birds over the

marsh, the marinas, the vilage shops and squares al along the pristine streets. Ethan had given Tori a pad and pen, and she held it at the ready, but he never hinted at anything he wanted her to write. His conversations were al with the pilot and they were talking more about the topography, rather than the geography, of the area.

Ethan, in fact, did not say a word to Tori until they were back in his Lexus heading home and Tori mentioned that she was starved.

He nearly came to a complete stop in the middle of Second Street as he slowed down and looked at her. “You haven’t eaten?”

“No.”

He looked ahead, a look of pure frustration on his face. Then he looked back at Tori. “Why not, Tori?” he asked as if he couldn’t believe her incompetence.

Tori, however, didn’t see why he would be so put out about why she didn’t bother to eat yet. But he seemed royaly pissed, which stunned her.

“Why not, Tori?” he asked again.

Because I was too busy worrying about your behind
, she wanted to say. “I just didn’t get around to it,” she said instead.

Ethan sighed frustratingly, slammed his stick-shift in reverse, and made a U-turn, the muscles of his big arm pulsating with every gear shift. Tori looked out of the window bewildered. What was his problem, she wondered. Ever since she saw him on the deck he’d been so irascible about every little thing she did. She laughed too hard at one of the pilot’s little jokes, he looked at her like she was crazy.

She asked a question of the pilot about the Gulf Stream, and he looked at her like she was dumb. Now this. Angry because she hadn’t eaten when, in truth, Tori thought but dared not say, it was al his fault.

They took what was beginning to amount to their regular table near the entrance of the Sunshine diner. Tori only wanted a sandwich, but before she could say a word Ethan was ordering her a meal. She looked at him, as he conversed with the waitress, that dour expression stil on his face. He was so handsome and so wel built, despite his slowly developing paunch, that Tori rarely saw such a dazzling combination. You find a man who was great looking, his body was usualy average at best, and vise-versa. But Ethan had puled it off. He had it al.

And that was why it was so baffling to Tori. Why would a man like him seem so insecure about so many things. Especialy whenever she was around another man. Why would he even care? Surely he