CHAPTER 14
Victoria
My father is counting on me. This is the first time he’s ever put this kind of deal in my hands. He’s never trusted me to go out solo to negotiate a purchase of this magnitude. I believe this is a test, and I have no choice but to ace it.
But holy shit, he was so pissed off that I agreed to stay here a few days. He got mad that I had to hitch a ride with Cal to the ranch. He was furious that Jamie was leaving because of termites. The fire-breathing level of anger seemed odd to me.
He screamed at me, which is not all that unusual in itself, claiming that my carelessness had already put the project in jeopardy. He warned me that he expected me to rebound and give it my all. That means he still trusts me, I suppose. If he didn’t, he would have insisted I come back immediately.
Then he reminded me that I may have inherited his brains and drive, but it’s watered down with my mother’s sentimental nature. He sees it as my greatest weakness. It’s been his mantra from the day my mother died in the accident. That I’m too soft to be a real killer.
“I’m ready for another glass of wine.” I lift my glass.
As Cal fills it from a bottle of 2010 Chateau Margaux, I think maybe this isn’t the smartest idea.
It could be dangerous to be tipsy around him.
On the flip side, if I stay tightly wound, Cal will see it as a weakness.
I decide I’ll find a happy medium, drink enough to help me relax but not enough to dull my awareness.
Desperation gives off the stink of failure. He needs to believe that I don’t care one way or the other about this deal. A laid-back attitude is the only way to keep Cal from acts of sabotage.
Dammit, relax!
I remember seeing a hot tub on the back deck. My muscles are tense from the day’s drama, especially the phone call with my father. I could really use a deep soak in the hot water. I wonder if I can sneak out there at some point.
I rub my forehead. My mind’s wandering too much. I need to stay on track. Why am I feeling so woozy? I’ve only had two glasses of wine. If I’m going to make my father proud, I need to take the cow by the horns. Or is it bulls that have horns?
“I need to borrow your Jeep.”
Cal has finished most of his steak and wipes his mouth with a cloth napkin. He leans back, surprised. “What for?”
I chug the glass of wine. “I need to… no, wait. What I meant to say is that I might find it informative to go out to Sulfur Springs. Check out the property. You know, just get the lay of the land. Because it’s my job.”
He chuckles. “You’ve had too much to drink.”
“I’m not drunk, though, right? Because I just had one or two or three glasses of wine.”
“Counting is hard. I get that. Also, your face is red, your lips are puffy, and your napkin fell off your lap fifteen minutes ago and you didn’t even notice.”
My hand flies to my face. My cheek is burning hot. I look down at the floor, and sure enough, there’s my napkin, half wrapped around my chair leg.
“It’s the elevation,” Cal says.
“What elevation?”
“A little alcohol goes a long way at this altitude. And even if you weren’t shitfaced, it’ll be the middle of the night by the time you reach Sulfur Springs, if you reach it. No streetlights. Lots of places to drive off a cliff around here.”
He has a point. I’m drunk. It’s getting dark. I have no idea where I am and no idea where I’m going. I hate that he’s right. Again. And I’m drunkenly wrong. This is no way to start a business relationship.
Much to my embarrassment, I hear myself yawn. It’s loud and drawn out. I smack my hand over my mouth to stifle the sound. I look at Cal. “Geez. Must be the altitude.”
“Indeed it is.”
“Dude! Do you always speak in that velvety, deep voice?”
He smiles slightly, knocking me even more off guard. I’m used to a gruff, angry Cal. Not this smiling, amused, friendly Cal sitting way too close to a tipsy Victoria.
“Velvety, huh?” He stands, pushing aside his chair with the back of his legs. He puts his hand out to me. “Come on. It’s been a long day for you, and you need to sleep. I’ll help you to your room, dude.”
“I don’t need any help.” I stand up and knock over my wineglass. “Oh, geez.” I bite my lower lip. “I’ll have you know I never, ever say geez at sea level. Or dude, for that matter.”
He grabs my hand and pulls me up and toward him.
I smack against him, connecting from shoulder to hip.
It feels so good to lean my body against him this way, and even though I’m a little bit dizzy, I can still fantasize about all the other places on his body I’d like to lean up against and how wonderful all that leaning would feel.
Cal smiles down at me. This time it’s a full smile. Wide and generous. He has perfect teeth. Full lips. Eyelashes too dark and thick to belong to a man. It’s completely unfair. He lowers his gaze to my mouth.
He’s going to kiss me.
“Come on, Miss Backlund.” He spins me around and presses his large hand to the small of my back. He directs me down the hallway to my room.
Somewhere in the recesses of my alcohol-soaked, altitude-challenged brain, I wonder if he might be pulling the old switcheroo on me and is really taking me to his room, where he’ll ravish me until the sun comes up.
He’s not. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
Cal urges me through the doorway to my room, flings the comforter back, and deposits me on the edge of the mattress. I stare straight ahead, which means I’m looking at the front zipper of his jeans.
“Lie back, Business Lady,” he commands. This time, his voice is more gravelly than velvety.
I do as he says. I swing my legs over and lie back on the comfortable mattress.
I know this mattress. I’ve shopped for one of these, and they cost more than a Honda.
Everything in Cal’s house is at the highest end of high-end.
I wonder just how successful his side gig is.
It’s privately held and allegedly classified, so I couldn’t find much on it.
Or maybe he just has a big fat pension from the Navy.
Then, I wonder no more. Because my head sinks down into the dreamy pillow. I feel Cal tenderly taking my socks off. Then, he puts the covers over me and literally tucks me in. He sits by my side on the bed.
I haven’t been tucked in since my mother was alive. I was just six when she died. That’s a very long time to go without someone tucking me in.
“Sweet dreams.” The velvet is gone. It’s just gravel now that he’s sitting on the edge of the bed.
He’s sitting on the bed?
Cal looks down at me and we lock eyes again. The room’s too dim for me to see their color.
Just the desire behind them.
Hell yes! He’s going to kiss me this time. I’m sure of it. But I want more than a kiss. My skin is on fire. I should take off my pants so that he can touch me. He needs to take off his pants too.
I’m just about to reach for him when…
“Hey!”
In one smooth motion, Cal rises, leaves the room, and shuts the door. Not a word. It’s a shock to my system: so close, yet so far. One second we’re on the bed, gazing into each other’s eyes, and the next second, he’s gone, gone, gone.
I hear myself groan. That was cruel. And there’s no way I’ll be able to rest. It’s completely impossible. I’ve never been able to fall asleep while turned on. It’s a lesson I’ve had to relearn every time a man finishes with me, rolls over, and starts snoring. All without bringing me to orgasm.
What I’m feeling right now is way worse than that. My core is as hot as the engine of a Formula One race car. Sleep? Forget it. Or…
It might be the alcohol. The altitude. The heavenly comfort of this mattress. Or maybe it’s the security of being well-fed and tucked in. Whatever is causing it, my eyelids flutter, then close, and I get the sensation that I’m drifting off into the softness of a lovely dream.
My eyes fly open. I sit up in bed. Where am I? I’m still dressed. I didn’t brush my teeth!
Suddenly the events of the day replay like a movie trailer. I’m in Cal MacLaine’s house. I had too much to drink. I fell asleep in his guest room. I reach for my phone and it’s not on the bedside table. I turn on the light and search on top of and under the covers. Nothing.
I must have left it on the table after dinner.
This is bad. What if my father tries to reach me?
Or Millicent? I put my bare feet on the floor and go to the door.
I can’t go out there if he’s awake. I’ve already made a fool of myself.
If I see him, I’m sure I’ll find a way to make a fool of myself again.
I press my ear to the door and listen. The house is silent. Cal’s probably fast asleep in his room, which I think might be at the opposite end of the house.
And then I remember that hot tub I saw on the back deck. Sinking down into the rolling hot water would feel pretty damn great on my body right about now. The dip might even clear my brain enough to get back to finishing what I came here to do.
I strip and grab a towel from the bathroom, wrapping it tight around my body. I open the sliding doors that lead from my room to the deck, grateful that I won’t have to go through the house to get to the hot tub.
I slip outside. I close the door behind me with a soft click and take a deep breath of the crisp, cold night. The air is fresh. Not a hint of pollution.
Even better, there’s no traffic noise or ships’ horns or the rattle of trains. All I hear is the slight rustle of the breeze in the trees, the hum of insects, and what could be tree frogs, though what do I know? But I do recognize one sound—the bubbling of hot tub jets. I follow its siren song.
I move slowly. It’s really dark, so I keep my hand stretched out in front of me. The wrap-around deck is substantial, and when I turn the corner, I see my way illuminated by the soft flicker of a string of tiny fairy lights along the railing.
There’s the hot tub, large and inviting, the bubbling water sending steam up into the cool air. I reach the stairs that lead to the water, take a quick look around the patio, and drop my towel.
Something shoots up from beneath the surface and violently sloshes water everywhere. I scream. It’s Cal. He stands. Naked. He spins around. He stares at me as I stare at him. Water pours down his perfect body.
His perfectly naked body.