Lone Star Millionaire (15 page)

“Cal, I—”

“No, Sabrina. It's what you want. Just go.”

She left without saying goodbye. He told himself they would all be fine. That time was a great healer. But as he held his devastated daughter and felt his own heart slowly crumbling, he wasn't sure he believed it was ever going to be true.

 

That night, Cal lay stretched out on top of his daughter's bed. Anastasia was next to him, curled close under the covers. He turned the page in the book and kept reading. When he reached the end of the chapter, she glanced up at him.

“I'm way too old for this,” she pointed out.

“I'm reading to you because we both like it, not because of your age. It's fun.”

“I know, but it makes me feel like a kid.”

“I hate to point this out, but you are a kid.”

“Na-uh.”

“Uh-huh.” He touched the tip of her nose. “You're my kid.”

She leaned her head against his arm. “She's not going to call tonight, is she?”

He knew the “she” in question was Sabrina. He glanced at the clock. It was nearly ten. Her flight had taken off around eleven that morning, which put her into New York about eight, East Coast time. She would have reached the hotel by ten, which was only seven, their time.

“No,” he said quietly. “She's not going to call.”

He wanted to protest the unfairness of it all. When he'd gone away,
he'd
called. She should have the common courtesy to do the same. But there was no one to complain to.

“I miss her,” Anastasia said.

“Me, too.”

“But we're gonna be okay without her, aren't we? I mean, we're fine on our own.”

Her need for reassurance was painfully obvious. He kissed the top of her head. “We're better than fine. We're perfect in every way.”

His daughter giggled. “Da-ad.”

“It's true. You and I are doing great. We had a rocky start, but we've recovered. We're getting to know each other. The whole parent-child relationship can be difficult for both sides, and we're going to have things to work through, but I'm not worried. You're a good kid.”

She smiled. “You're a good dad.”

Her brown eyes were similar to his. He'd often searched her features, trying to figure out what came from him and what she'd inherited from Janice. In many ways, Anastasia was her own person. Perhaps he recognized that more easily than most parents because he'd only recently met her. He hadn't had a part of her early years.

“I'm sorry I didn't know about you before,” he said. “I would have liked to have been there from the beginning.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “You're very special.”

He felt that tightening in his chest again and recognized it for what it was. Love. He, who had grown up in a cold, unwelcoming home, had finally learned how to love someone.

“I love you, Anastasia. No matter what, I'll always love you.” As he spoke the words, he felt a great warmth inside.

She buried her head against his chest. “I love you, too, Daddy,” she whispered.

He closed his eyes to savor the moment, to try to make it enough, but it wasn't. No matter how much he loved his daughter, he still missed Sabrina. How had he let her go? How was he going to survive without her around? What choice did he have but to figure it out? As much as he wanted to, he couldn't
make
her stay.

Anastasia read his mind. “What about Sabrina, Daddy? She needs to be with us.”

“I know it feels that way now, but we'll get used to having her gone.”

“I don't think so.”

“We don't have a choice. We can't force her to stay. She wants her own life. She likes her job, but it's just that. A job. She's not family, like you and me.”

His daughter drew her knees up to her chest and smoothed the covers. “If you married her, she'd be a part of the family and she'd stay. Married people live together.”

She imparted the last tidbit in the tone of someone sharing a seldom-discussed fact.

Cal opened his mouth, then closed it. Marry Sabrina?
Marry
Sabrina? “I can't,” he said without thinking.

“Why not? You like her, I know you do. If you get married, she'll have to stay. We'll be her life.”

Cal felt as if he were tumbling through space. It wasn't that the thought of marrying Sabrina was so horrible. The idea stunned him, but he had a feeling he could get used to it. The difficulty lay in the asking.

“It's not that simple.”

Anastasia rolled her eyes. “Adults make everything so complicated.”

“That's true.”

Later, when she was finally asleep, he walked out onto the beach and stared at the waves. In the darkness they were vague shapes topped by white foam. He inhaled the scent of salt, sand and sea. For the rest of his life, when he thought of Sabrina, this is the smell he would remember. This and the sweetness that was her body.

Marry her, Anastasia had said. It would solve all their problems. Cal was willing to admit that, in theory, that was true. It sounded so simple. Just ask her. Be with her. Love her.

He closed his eyes. Loving Anastasia was safe. She was his child and that bonded them together. But Sabrina was different. She was a woman, at times a difficult and challenging woman. He admired her and respected her and wanted her. But love her? Did he dare?

It would be too easy to let himself fall for her. Maybe he already had. And then what? She could never love him back. That was what he couldn't explain to his daughter. Sabrina knew the worst about him. She'd seen into the darkness of his soul. She liked him. Apparently she even wanted him in her bed. But love? She was too good. She would choose a very different kind of man.

The truth was, Anastasia was the first person to ever love him. His parents hadn't, his sister had been too self-absorbed. The women who came and went in his life saw him as a means to an end. He didn't try to fool himself about that. Even Janice hadn't wanted to be with him longer than she had to. She'd gotten herself pregnant but had been careful to ensure they didn't have to marry.

Sabrina was worth ten of Janice. She was an amazing woman. And she'd seen him with Tiffany and Colette and all
the others. She knew how he operated. She would never trust him. She would never love him back.

The kindest act would be to let her go.

 

Sabrina had indulged herself with a first-class airline ticket. Traveling with Cal had spoiled her, probably for good. The flight attendant offered her wine, but she refused. She had too much thinking to do and she needed a clear head.

The time in New York had gone by quickly. She'd had two job offers in the past five days. One with a firm in New York, the other with a company based out of Chicago. The jobs were equally fabulous with great pay and benefits and lots of room for advancement. It was as if each company had read her wish list and decided to make her dreams come true. All she had to do was decide.

So in this moment, when she should be celebrating and planning her future, why was she so sad? Why did she keep thinking about Cal and Anastasia and wondering what they were doing? Why was she still hurt because they hadn't been home when she'd called to tell them she was on her way back? She'd left a message with the information on the answering machine, but it wasn't the same. She'd wanted to talk to them. She desperately wanted to hear Cal's voice.

Loving him and leaving him was going to be harder than she'd first imagined. Life without him would be empty and cold for a long time. Logically she knew she wasn't going to die of a broken heart, even if it felt like it right now. And the worst wasn't over. She didn't just have to tell Cal about the job offers, she had to go through the trauma of hiring someone else.

There would be interviews, then making a final choice. Worst of all, she would then lie awake at night and picture that other person living her life, taking care of Cal the way she had. She wasn't sure how she would get over that.

If only she'd never fallen in love with him. Sabrina clutched
the arms of the seat. Loving him was something she did very well. She couldn't regret that. In the deepest, darkest part of her she knew she would rather have loved him and miss him when she left, than be with someone else. Which made her a lovesick fool.

She reached for the headsets and put them on. With a little luck someone had written a country music song about her sorry life and she could find out how it was all going to come out in the end.

S
abrina collected her carry-on suitcase and headed for the door. She hadn't bothered to arrange a shuttle for her return trip, so she was going to have to call the company when she retrieved the rest of her luggage. Or maybe she could take a cab. She followed the other first-class passengers down the jetway. There was the usual crowd of people, family members and friends to greet those arriving. She didn't bother to check for any familiar faces.

She'd already started toward the baggage claim area when she heard someone calling her name.

“Sabrina! We're over here.”

She turned and saw Cal with Anastasia. The girl was grinning and waving madly. Cal's expression was more difficult to read, but there was a light in his dark eyes that made her hope he was pleased to see her.

“We missed you,” Anastasia said, rushing toward her and giving her a hug. “We've had lots of fun doing stuff, but we missed you.”

Sabrina brushed the girl's hair off her forehead. “I missed you, too.” She looked up at her boss and gave him a shy smile. “Thanks for picking me up, Cal. I appreciate it.”

“I know it's not fun to come home alone.” He had a hand tucked behind his back, and when he drew it around in front of him, she saw he held a single red rose. “For you,” he said. “Anastasia's right. We missed you very much.”

She took the flower, brought it to her nose and inhaled the scent. The actions kept her distracted enough to allow her to blink back the tears that formed. The last time they'd seen each other, they'd come as close to fighting as they ever had in all the years she'd known him. She was three weeks away from walking out of his life forever. So why was he being so nice to her?

“Let's go get your luggage,” he said as he put one arm around his daughter and the other around her. “So tell me about your trip. Was it successful?”

“Define
success.
”

“Did you get any job offers?”

“Two.” She mentioned the names of the companies. As they went down the escalator to the baggage claim area, then waited for the luggage, she talked about her interviews.

“They're both good companies,” he said. “I don't know how you're going to like winters in either New York or Chicago, but you'll survive.”

“I know.” His touch was sure and familiar. She wanted to burrow closer to him and ask him to promise to always be there. What a mistake. So Cal had missed her. It didn't mean anything significant. He was probably regretting the fact that he'd had to do all the cooking. No doubt he wasn't looking forward to breaking in a new assistant. After all, they'd been together six years. For him it was an inconvenience, but for her, it was going to be major heartbreak. Still, she knew it was the right thing to do.

Anastasia stepped close and lowered her voice. “I met a boy,” she said shyly.

Cal winced. “You did not meet a boy. I won't allow that. She went in-line skating with some kids her age. Children of both sexes. There will be no boy-meeting until you're thirty. Maybe not even then!”

Anastasia giggled. “His name is Jason and he's really cute.”

“Cute is not allowed,” Cal informed her. “I told you that already. No cute, no boys, none of that.”

Sabrina grinned. “What's he like?”

When Cal would have started in on her, too, she pointed to the moving carousel. “That's my suitcase,” she said. “The navy one.”

He grunted, then went to pick it up.

“He's nice,” Anastasia said in a low voice. “He's a year older than me and he's really great on blades. When I went skating with everyone, he showed me a couple of turns and stuff. I'm getting a lot better. There's a group of us going skating again tomorrow. Can you talk to Dad so he'll let me go?”

“I don't want to get caught in the middle,” Sabrina started to say. At Anastasia's look of disappointment, she sighed. “Okay, I'll see what I can do.”

“Thanks.”

Cal returned carrying the suitcase. “What is she thanking you for? What have you agreed to do?”

Sabrina took his arm and led him toward the short-term parking. “Nothing you have to worry yourself about. Everything is going to be fine.”

“You think I don't know when you're lying to me?” He gave her a mock glare. “Is this another of those ‘he's male so he must be stupid' things? I'm not stupid.”

Sabrina glanced at his daughter. “Wow, when did he get so sensitive about stuff?”

“I don't know. I guess it's because he's only around women.”

“You're right,” Sabrina said. “He needs some testosterone. Maybe he can get a shot or take vitamins.”

“Like I need this,” Cal muttered.

He caught her eye and grinned. She smiled back. It felt so right to be with him, she thought. She didn't know how much he'd really missed her, but she was willing to bet she'd missed him about ten times as much.

After unlocking the trunk, Cal handed his daughter the keys. She opened the car and scrambled into the back seat. Cal put the suitcase into the trunk and closed it. He turned to Sabrina.

“You deliberately stayed away from oil and gas companies, didn't you?”

She nodded. “I didn't want to create any illusion of conflict of interest.”

“I'm not going to make you sign anything. If you'd rather stay in the industry, I wouldn't mind.”

She looked at him. When high-placed employees left a firm in any industry, it was standard practice to have them sign a clause stating they wouldn't steal customers, compete directly or go to work for a competitor for a specified period of time. She'd just assumed Cal would want her to sign one.

“Why not?” she asked.

“You'll get a better job if you stay where you already have expertise. I want you to do well.”

It was all she could do not to fling herself at him. “You're a really nice guy,” she said.

“I know, but keep it to yourself. I have a reputation I have to keep intact.”

“I won't breathe a word.”

He walked around to her side of the car and held the door open. His hand rested on top of the window. She placed hers on his. “Thanks, Cal. I won't do anything to hurt the company.”

“I know. That's why I offered.”

“I'm going to find you the best replacement. You won't even notice I'm gone.”

He didn't say anything for a couple of seconds, then he smiled. But it didn't reach his eyes, and she had the feeling it was more for show than because he was happy. “Let's not talk about that,” he said. “Right now I just want to enjoy having you here.”

 

Later that night Sabrina stood at the front of the porch and leaned toward the ocean. “I had a view of Central Park from my hotel room,” she said. “It was nice, but nothing like this.”

She heard Cal move up behind her, then he wrapped his arms around her waist. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed being close to him until that minute. Her body fit perfectly against his. He was warm and strong, and Lord help her, she wanted him.

“People say that folks from Texas talk funny, but if you ask me, those New York Yankees can be mighty tough to understand,” he said, broadening his accent.

“I agree. Life is different there.” She placed her hands on top of his. “Life is different here, too. More relaxed. I like it.” She took a deep breath. “I'm sorry about Hawaii, not being able to go, I mean.”

“It's all right. I was trying to extend the fantasy.” His voice rumbled against her back. “Reality isn't so bad. I haven't forgotten what it was like, Sabrina. What we were like when we were together.”

He rested his chin on her shoulder. She instinctively tilted her head, exposing her neck. He turned toward her and brushed his lips against her skin. A shiver rippled down her spine.

“I don't know that I've ever really missed anyone before,” he said quietly. “But I missed you. I thought about you constantly while you were gone.”

His confession touched her, making her want to confess all to him. That she'd missed him, too. That she wanted him, that she loved him and had probably loved him from the first.

“Between you and Anastasia, I think you're making a difference in me,” he said. “I'm still something of a jerk, but I'm getting better.”

She closed her eyes. “I never thought you were a jerk, Cal. I've always admired you.”

“I'm glad. Your good opinion matters to me. I would do almost anything to keep it, but there are some things I just can't resist.”

His hold on her loosened, and as he released her, he turned her toward him. She knew he was going to kiss her and she met him halfway, her mouth already parted and ready for him.

This wasn't like before. There was no playfulness, no teasing, little conversation. Last time they'd been caught up in exploration, this time they were drowning in need. The fire erupted instantly, surrounding them with passionate flames.

He held her face in his hands as he kissed her. His mouth was open, his tongue sought hers. Over and over he stroked and circled, danced and caressed.

“I want you,” he murmured. “I want you in my bed. Naked. On your back, hungry for me. Wet and ready. I want to be in you, filling you, making you mine.”

His words stunned her. When he broke the kiss and took her hand to lead her up the stairs, she followed mindlessly. If he'd sought to paint a verbal picture of them making love, he'd succeeded. She couldn't imagine being anywhere else or
with
anyone else.

They reached his room. Lights from the street filtered in through the vertical blinds. He didn't bother turning on any of the lamps. In the semidarkness, they reached for each other, hands touching, clothing falling, until at last they were naked.

He drew her onto the bed. She went willingly, wanting him to do all the things he'd talked about, wanting to feel those things with him. Only with him.

He kissed her passionately. As the world began to spin, he was her only constant and she had to cling to him to maintain her place in the universe. His muscles were warm and rippling beneath her hands. She moved up and down his back, rediscovering the familiar country that was his body. He, too, familiarized himself with her. He started at her collarbone and moved lower. When he reached her breasts, he cupped one yielding curve, learning its shape and weight. Her nipple tightened. He toyed with the taut tip, rubbing it with the pad of his thumb, circling around, sending waves of wanting through her.

He deepened the kiss. She closed her lips over his tongue and sucked gently. He groaned low in his throat. His arousal bumped against her thigh. She moved a hand down between them and encircled the length of him. His skin there was so soft, like shorn velvet, but inside he was hard as steel. She liked the shape of him, the definition, the vein running down the back, the way he flexed when she stroked him.

A single drop of moisture lay on the very tip. She used her forefinger to smooth it over him. The dampness made him slick and reminded her of what it would be like when he was inside her.

As if he read her mind, he moved his hand lower, over her belly, past the protective curls to that secret place between her thighs. She parted for him, wanting him there. His fingers were sure as they moved down into the moist heat. He caressed either side of the most sensitive part of her before dipping inside and mimicking the act of love.

Fingers moved in and out, preparing her until she felt she couldn't possibly be more swollen or wet. She moved her hand faster, urging him onward. He broke the kiss long
enough to kneel between her legs and put on protection, then he slid home.

Within two thrusts she was on the edge of discovery. By the third, the familiar pressure began and she found herself spiraling out of control. But this was different from before. The release brought its own tension, and she knew she had entered a new dimension of pleasure.

He braced himself above her, eyes open, studying her. She clutched at him and urged him deeper. Love filled her, along with the desire. It was a heady combination.

A few more thrusts and another climax. She felt him nearing his release and her tension grew again. She tried to hold back, to contain herself.

“Don't,” he ground out. “Don't resist. Give in. Come for me, Sabrina. Now!”

His words freed her. She exploded, deeply and completely, giving herself over to the spasms. He plunged into her one last time and groaned his own contentment. She felt herself milking him dry.

When they had caught their breath, they clung to each other. There was much to talk about, Sabrina thought, but she didn't have the words. Whatever happened, she would always be able to remember this night. She suspected no man would ever come close to touching her as completely as Cal. There might be other lovers, other good times, but he had possession of her heart. Perhaps she should try to reclaim it, if such a thing were possible. But in an odd way, she wanted him to keep it with him always.

She loved him, and right now, in his arms, with the scent of their lovemaking clinging to them both, it was enough.

 

The tinkle of glass followed by a muttered swearword woke her the next morning. Sabrina raised her head and saw Cal standing in the doorway to his bedroom, tray in hand.

“Sorry,” he said when he saw she was awake. “I wanted to surprise you with breakfast. I know it's early, but I'd hoped we could have some time together before Anastasia woke up.”

The combination of the thoughtful gesture, not to mention the little-boy smile, made him impossible to resist. She pulled the sheet up so it covered her breasts, then sat against the headboard.

“You're very sweet. Is there coffee, too?”

“What's breakfast without coffee?”

She glanced with interest at the tray. “And I wasn't sure you even knew how to work a toaster. I'll reserve judgment until I taste everything.”