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The Pilot and the Pin-up

Tina Holland

(c) 2005

The Pilot and the Pin-up

Tina Holland

Published 2005

ISBN 1-59578-176-5

Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509

Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2005, Tina Holland. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Manufactured in the United States of America

Liquid Silver Books http://LSbooks.com

Email:

raven@LSbooks.com

Editor

Corina Calsing

Cover Artist

Vince Evans

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

Dedication

To Ken whose love and support made this book possible.

Chapter 1

“What the hell?” Sydney Wagner muttered as she fought to maintain control of her

Saturn. It felt like the engine had dropped out. Sydney struggled to straighten out the car, pressing the brakes and fighting the pull towards the centerline. She managed to steer off to the side of the road. The car slowed to a stop. Sydney leaned over the steering wheel, and her breath came out in a whoosh. She took a moment to pause from the event, and allow the feeling of security, but only for a moment.

“Dammit!” This was going to delay her. She looked down at her cell-phone and wondered who to call for help. As if on command, it rang.

“Syd! Sweetie! How’s my girl? Wanted to call you and see how the road-trip is going.” She’d recognize Lance Lott’s voice anywhere. It seemed ironic that her friend, Lance, would call. He was the one person who couldn’t help her, being a thousand miles away in Vegas.

“Lance, my car blew up! Hold on a sec. I gotta look outside and see what the hell happened.” Sydney heels clicked on the asphalt as she proceeded to assess the damage.

“Are you okay!? What happened?”

“Looks like I blew a tire. Crap! I’m not sure I can change this thing.”

“Sure you can. Get the book out and change that tire!”

“This coming from a man who has pictures hung by professionals.”

“Syd, that’s not fair! That was a very heavy frame and expensive painting. I didn’t want to damage anything.”

“Like a fingernail.”

“Okay, I was feeling sorry for you; now I’m having serious regrets.”

“I’m sorry.” She leaned back in the car and popped the glove compartment, searching for the owner’s manual. “I’m a little stressed at the moment.”

“I know, sweetie. I’ll make everything better when I see you. Okay?”

“All right. I’ll see if I can get this thing fixed. See you in Kansas City.” She pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose wondering how to handle this complication.

“Bye, honey.” His voice echoed as Sydney snapped the phone shut and put it in her pocket.

Fumbling through the pages, Sydney reached the section on changing a tire. She started to psych herself up. She could do this

. It’s only a tire A tire attached to a car.

.

In that moment, Sydney was relieved she drove a smaller economy car and not the SUV’s common to the Dakotas.

She decided to take County Road 81 south from Fargo to avoid possible traffic on I-

29. Now, that same choice meant she would have to change this tire alone. There wasn’t a service station within sixty miles, and the sun wasn’t expected up for another half hour.

At least spring had arrived. It wasn’t uncommon to get snow in April. Well, Sydney could only blame herself. She wanted an early start this morning. Now, she would be late for the Passionate Prose Writing Convention in Kansas City.

Realizing there was little choice, she grabbed her jacket and gloves. She pulled the jack from the trunk and settled down by the rear tire and began loosening the nuts on the cover. She was getting a rhythm down by the time a pair of headlights blinded her. A

truck pulled up behind the Saturn. Sydney tried to stay focused on the cover and not seem panicked. As a door slammed, she glanced up to see a pair of muscled legs striding towards her.

“Need some help?” His voice was velvet-edged and strong.

“No. I could stand to have you turn your brights off, though.” Her lips thinned in frustration. She probably shouldn’t provoke this stranger, but it was hard to keep quiet when she felt defensive.

Sydney loosened the cap and took it off. She started unscrewing the bolts within the rim, but was perplexed about how to continue. She dropped the owner’s manual on the ground behind her and was hesitant to turn and grab it.

“Damn this tire,” she muttered and heard a chuckle behind her.

She turned to appraise him. Sydney surveyed his chiseled features and decided she was in trouble. “I hope you’re enjoying this,” she said with as reasonable a voice as she could manage.

“I do find it slightly entertaining.” He leaned back on her car and put his hands in his pockets.

She was irked by his calm, relaxed manner. “Well, there’s no reason I should have all the fun. Still willing to help?” He was striking, making it hard to concentrate on what she was doing. He also looked like he could probably get the job done faster, without the heels and skirt. An image of him in her ensemble flashed through her mind and made her giggle.

“You were doing pretty well. I find it helpful if you jack up the car,” he demonstrated, “loosen all the nuts, and then pull the tire off.” He demonstrated. The tire came off straight away.

Good-looking know-it-all.

He was at least six feet tall with dark blonde hair, cut in military fashion, short in the back and only slightly longer on top. It was tousled, as if he constantly ran his fingers through it. His eyes were steel gray, compelling and magnetic.

He was lean, yet his presence was commanding.

“I do know how to change a tire. I’m just not dressed for it.” She gestured in a sweeping motion with her hands.

“I’m sure you can, and we don’t have changing rooms down here.” He followed her hands as she motioned down her body. She found his gaze penetrating her defenses. He got up and walked behind her.

“What are you doing?” Sydney spun to face him.

“Spare tire.” He held the tire, mocking her. His broad shoulders strained against his shirt, sending a shiver of pleasure through her; she could watch his magnificent beauty for hours.

“Oh.”

“Since I’m getting a pretty good view of your undercarriage, don’t you think I should know your name?” He said, crouching beside her car. His arms moved with speed and agility. Sydney was momentarily distracted, imagining those strong arms encircling her, she missed what he asked.

“My what?” She self-consciously smoothed her skirt.

“Your name?”

“Not that. My under what?”

“Undercarriage.”

“I thought you said…”

“Underwear?” A faint light twinkled in his charcoal eyes as the corners of his mouth turned up.

“NO! That’s not what I thought. I was thinking to view my ‘undercarriage’ you would have to be under something” She placed her hands on her hips.

“Like you?”

Sydney’s eyes filled with a curious, deep longing, but she remained quiet. She wanted to be upset, but found it difficult, imagining him beneath her. Sydney should be wary, but something inside her said this man wasn’t dangerous. Truthfully, he could have taken advantage of her. Somehow, that wasn’t as abhorrent as it should be. She obviously had been too long without a man, at least a year since her last sexual encounter. Maybe that was why she was turned on by his attentions.

“You’re blushing.”

“I am not,” she denied.

“Yes, you are. Now, what is your name?”

“My name?”

“Yes, unless you want to show me your underwear.” His eyes twinkled.

“I don’t think so,” she managed to say with a straight face. “My name is Sydney.

Sydney Wagner.”

“Peter Kane.” His task completed, he wiped his hands down his thighs, got up and reached out to her.

Sydney felt her skin pulse and her heart beat faster when he clasped her hand in his.

The roughness of it gave her a sense of protection.

“Will you give me your number?” Peter asked with a handsome smile.

“No.” She pulled her hand away. She’d give him one thing; he was tenacious, like a dog that wants to keep chasing the ball even though he’s tired.

“Why?’

“Why do you want it?”

“To call you, ask you out, start dating, or maybe I’ll just call and hang up. I do that sometimes.” He winked at her.

“I’m not going to be home for awhile,” she responded matter-of-factly.

“Oh?” He made his way back to the trunk, putting what was left of her tire inside and closing it.

“At least a week. I’m on my way to a convention.”

“I thought maybe you were setting up your ‘I’m washing my hair' story.”

“No. Although, it does take awhile.” Sydney timidly fingered a loose tendril that fell across her cheek.

“I’m sure it does.” His eyes ran the length of her. “If you ever need help, I run a shampoo service when I’m not changing tires.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She was strangely flattered by his interest.

“Please do. You know, there’s a little café in the next town south of here. You want to have breakfast while they take off this donut and put on a tire?”

“That sounds nice.” Sydney wasn’t tempted often, but she felt tempted now.

“I would be honored,” he spoke and the dimples in his cheeks deepened.

The man had no right being this beautiful.

I bet he knows it, too.

She had no intention of letting him know it. Tilting her head defiantly, she shot back. “Don’t be. I’m hungry.”

Chapter 2

Peter looked around Genie's Café. It was typical of the kind found in small towns, there were maybe four or five booths, one of which they were seated at, and a counter with bar stools. Display boxes with various knick-knacks for sale by Genie covered the walls.

Their food arrived quickly. Peter had pancakes, eggs and a side of bacon and Sydney chanced Genie’s special, two eggs and toast. When she ordered coffee with a side of milk, saying to the waitress, “I like my coffee, like my men, sweet with a tan,” the woman cackled and walked away.

“Single?” Peter asked as he gazed at her golden hair. He’d never seen hair so long.

When the sun came up, it seemed to catch the light. Peter wondered what her mane would look like at sunset—if it would catch all the colors. He wanted to run his fingers through her long tresses as he plunged into her. The notion was maddening.

“Yes, but I’m dating, seriously.” Her face tilted up and Peter stared into her mysterious blue eyes. Sydney’s skin was smooth, and her face a perfect oval, void of sharp angles. Her full lips begged for kisses. She took off her blue jacket revealing a white halter-top and cleavage he wanted to delve his hands into. Peter was surprised to feel this instant attraction. Damn, if it wasn’t uncomfortable. He could feel his shaft bucking against the zipper of his pants and staring at her exposed flesh was not helping.

“What’s his name?”

“Lance.”

“Lance? And where is Lance?” Peter felt suddenly possessive.

“He lives in Las Vegas.”

“Dating long?” he asked lightly.

“I suppose … like seven years.”

“And what does Lance do?”

“He’s an architect.”

“Maybe I’ve heard of him. What did you say his last name was?”

“Lott.”

“Lance Lott?!” He nearly choked on his coffee.

Lance Lott.

There was no boyfriend.

The name sounded made up. It seemed the lovely lady had a bit of a Camelot complex.

Well,   could be a knight in shining armor.

he

“Yes. Do you know him?” she asked before sipping her coffee.

“Never heard of him.” He paused. His fork hovered above his pancakes. “So what kind of convention are you going to?”

She coughed, “A writer’s convention.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“What do you write?”

“Torrid romance novels.” Her chin went up.

“Torrid, huh?”

“Sometimes.” Sydney picked apart the toast she ordered.

“Need any help with that?”

“You’re Mr. Subtle, aren’t you?”

“I try. So, do you?”

“No. I’ve got the writing pretty much covered.”

“Even the torrid part? I should let you know I can be very torrid myself.”

“That I don’t doubt.”

“Well, if you change your mind, here’s my card.”

As she reached across the table to take his card, their fingers touched. Her fingers were yielding, and he immediately clasped her hand in his. When he touched her, his own pulse raced. Peter felt the irresistible urge to grab Sydney’s hand and take her to the nearest secluded spot.

Sydney tugged her hand away as she glanced at his card. “Day-trader, huh?”

“Yep.”

“So what do you trade?”

“Stocks mostly. Sometimes bonds, real estate … if I’m lucky, phone numbers.”

“I see we are back to being obvious.”

“If that’s what it takes to get your number.”

“Actually, my trust is what you need.”

“That must be a tough commodity.”

“You’re a trader. I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

Peter felt compelled to touch her hand that was resting on the table. He needed to feel that electricity again. Sydney took a sharp intake of breath when he turned her hand over, palm up, and rubbed his index finger along the inside of her wrist.

“Anything else for you two?” Sydney pulled her hand away before the waitress finished her sentence. She grabbed the ticket, raised it over her head as Peter tried to retrieve it.

“Syd, I can get that!”

“No, you changed my tire. The least I can do is buy you the breakfast special.” While waving the ticket at the waitress, she reached into her purse with her free hand and grabbed a twenty. “Keep the change.”

As the waitress walked away, Peter surveyed her. “You tipped her very well, for a ten-dollar meal.”

“I thought the service was good.” She sounded defensive.

“What’s my tip?”

“Breakfast?”

“Okay.” He felt her resistance towards him. Peter didn’t know why he teased her. He didn’t usually flirt with perfect strangers, but he'd never seen a woman so finely made.

Peter wanted nothing more than to feel her curves. He couldn’t seem to control himself, and Sydney’s blush wasn’t helping.

“Well, I suppose I better get going. I’m sure the car is done by now.” She moved quickly to the edge of the booth.

“You have my card. Why don’t you give me a jingle when you get to your hotel?”

“I’ll be okay.”

“I’d like to make sure you get there in one piece. I might need references for my tire-

changing business.” The corners of his mouth turned up.

“Maybe I’ll call you.” She turned on her heel and walked away.

Peter watched her ass swish on her way to her car. His mind was in a whirlwind.

Sydney was beautiful, quick witted and had a sense of humor which rivaled his own. He liked a woman who was independent. Sydney was that, stubbornly so. She was shorter than the women he usually dated, coming only to his chest. Short women tended to be petite all over, but Sydney had curves enough to please. Peter could take her to bed and not worry about breaking her. When he glimpsed her hands, she wore no ring, but then she mentioned a boyfriend, probably fictitious.

Pieces of their conversation didn’t quite fit. The boyfriend lived in Vegas.

That’s convenient

. And what girl didn’t know how long she dated someone? They all knew that stuff.

A long time had passed since he pursued the opposite sex; Peter could hardly wait.

He couldn't remember when he last fixated on a woman. As intriguing as Sydney Wagner was, Peter would keep his guard up. Nevertheless, he hoped she would call.

His thoughts were interrupted by the familiar sound of his cell phone ringing. “This is Peter Kane.”

“Peter, Buzz here.”

“Hello, Mr. Caulfield, what can I do for you?”

“I’ll tell you what you can do! You can stop racing that P-51 plane of yours! Damn! I

can’t afford losing money. It’s highway robbery, I tell you. You must be descended from that Jesse James that comes from up North.” It sounded like chastisement. That was the way that Buzz expressed himself, shouting at you with a grin on his face.

“I’m sorry, Buzz. Gotta keep air racing. I love it too much.”

“You know what? You need a woman that’ll keep you on the ground for awhile.”

“What about you, Buzz?”

“Hell, I could use the money!” That was the farthest thing from the truth. Buzz

Caulfield made his money the same way every other Texan had: cattle and oil.

“Since I’m not going to stop racing, how ‘bout I help you with some stocks.”

“How’s that electronics company?”

“You know, I can check the current price. I think it would be better to wait a few more days. I hear the CEO is leaving, and that should reduce the cost for sale. It may even increase the number of shares you can purchase. I’ll call you as soon as I get into the office.”

Yes, the day was off at a good pace.

Chapter 3

While Sydney waited to check-in at the hotel, her mind wandered back to Peter.

She’d only met him this morning, and already he possessed her thoughts. Considering how attractive he was, she wasn’t surprised. He had that boyish charm with a hint of naughtiness down flat. Sydney had no doubt he would have taken advantage of her, had she let him. A small part of her wanted him to. Why was she having these feelings?

Lance was meeting her in a few hours. It would be better to not think of Peter (obviously, a true-rake). That brought an immediate idea.

What a perfect character Peter would make

! She rummaged through her purse to find her notebook and write it down before it escaped.

“Next!”

“Honey, that's you.” The woman in line behind Sydney lightly tapped her shoulder.

Sydney stared at the girl behind the desk. “Sorry.”

“Name, please.”

“Wagner.”

“Sydney?”

“That's me.” Sydney gave the woman her credit card.

“Very good, Miss Wagner, we'll have you in your room in a few minutes.”

“Thanks.”

“Party Girl, is that you!” Sydney turned in time to see the nearly six-foot redhead, Gwen McIver, bearing down on her. Party girl indeed! She earned the nickname from

Gwen because she was one of the few people that could keep up with the fast-paced, shot-drinking Floridian.

“Hey, Gwen.” She waved. They became fast friends when she and Sydney met at a previous convention. Gwen was open and carefree; two things Sydney always longed to be. Gwen was also gorgeous, with bright green eyes and dark curly auburn hair that fell past her shoulders. Her good looks managed to keep a constant stream of men in her wake. They also kept her from starving; when Gwen wasn’t wrestling alligators, she was modeling. Sydney was amazed there wasn’t a single man trailing Gwen at the moment.

“I was thinking you'd never show.” Gwen embraced Sydney.

“I had a flat.”

“That's rotten luck. It appears you managed.”

Sydney blushed and conveniently glanced away as the clerk gave her the key.

“Syd! Did something happen? Tell me.” Apparently, Gwen hadn’t missed the blush and fell into step tailing Sydney to the elevator.

“Nothing.” Sydney spoke after a few moments. “What’s on the agenda?”

“Oh, the usual: parties, books and hunky guys walking around. I really liked that last part. And don’t think you’ve sidetracked me; it's something, so quit dodging.”

“Don't you have a Rafael, Gabriel or some other Don Juan stashed in your room?”

“Ooh! You're getting the claws out. Sadly, there’s no Don Juan this trip, but I might still find one. And you?”

“Lance is coming down; you know that.”

“I suppose you’ll be shut up in your room?”

“Hopefully.”

“That’s rather disappointing.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means we won’t go out on the town, which, if you ask me, is a total bummer.

Two single chicks like us should be spreading our wings and maybe our legs,” Gwen continued, paying no attention to the other patrons in the elevator. “Which brings me back to, why the blush?”

“Give it a rest, Gwen.” Sydney ducked under Gwen’s arm, getting out onto her floor.

“I will get it out of you eventually.” Gwen was determined.

“There’s nothing to tell, and, besides, think of it as something to look forward to.”

Sydney unlocked the door, hoping for escape.

Gwen finally gave up as she followed Sydney into the room. She plopped down on one of the beds even as Sydney put her suitcase on the other. The beds had white comforters and mahogany headboards to match the rest of the wood décor. “Got any agent or editor appointments for your book?”

“Yep. Hopefully, they go well.”

“Sweets, you'll do fine.” Gwen checked her watch. “Oh crap! I got to go get changed for the shoot.”

“You don’t want to keep Rafael waiting.”

“Of course not, but I won't forget!” She waved her finger at Sydney as if to scold for not telling.

“I’m hoping.” Sydney crossed her fingers as she looked back at Gwen. Gwen stuck her tongue out at her and closed the door.

Sydney no sooner sat down when there was a knock at the door. “Yes?”

“I have some flowers here for a Miss Wagner?”

Flowers? From whom? Peter? But they just met, and he didn't know where she was staying.

Stop thinking about him

. She walked over and opened the door.

“Here you are, miss. Sign here.” He gave her a piece of paper and pen. Sydney signed.

“Thank you.” Syd tipped him, catching the scent of the fresh flowers as she closed the door. It was a springtime bouquet.

Lance, Sydney thought as she set them down on a neighboring table. The envelope was easy enough to find standing straight up on a plastic holder. Sydney read the card.

Sydney, Good luck! Do your best and don't worry about a thing. I've got things covered. Call me when you arrive.

Your sis, Courtney.

Sydney peeked at the phone, not sure if she wanted to hear about all the trials and tribulations at The Starving Artist, the coffeehouse that she and her sister owned. Sydney and Courtney decided that the shop was stable enough that each of them could follow their dreams. Sydney sought to be an author. Courtney wanted to be an artist. She didn't need the hectic day-to-day operations to sour her mood. Eventually, her sense of responsibility won out, and she picked up the phone.

It picked up on the third ring. “Starving Artist, this is Courtney.”

“Hey Court, how are things?”

“Good. Did you make it okay?”

“Yeah, no problems.”

“What happened? You should have called me two hours ago.”

“Nothing. Just a detour off the main road.” Sydney hated lying, but didn't want to worry Courtney.

“I hate those. Well, I'm glad you made it in one piece. I was worried.”

“I'm fine. Anything going on at the store?”

“Believe it or not, it’s been going pretty smooth. I'm kinda surprised. I half expected everything to fall apart 'cuz you're not here. I've been pretty lucky. Hold-on … $6.29

please … Hey Syd! I gotta run. I got payin' customers here.”

“Call me if you need anything.”

“Got it. Bye.”

“I'm serious. Call.”

“Okay, okay. Good-bye.” Courtney sounded exasperated.

Sydney knew she shouldn't worry. Courtney was able to handle things back at the store so she could do this. Her concern came from being the oldest. To be truthful, their brother Patrick was in fact older, but Sydney had never been close to him. Their mom had always referred to him as the man of the house since dad had walked out. Pat was only two years older than Sydney.

Their father left when she was sixteen, and Courtney was only two years younger.

Their mother was devastated. No one could’ve foreseen their father’s abandonment. He simply vanished one night. Even though ten years passed, questions remained unanswered. Sydney shook off negative thoughts as she headed towards the bathroom. A

hot shower would ease her muscles and the tensions of this day.

Sydney felt like a new person when she emerged from the bathroom. She searched through her luggage, deciding what to wear. She wanted to look seductive. Lance would be here in a few short hours, and Sydney hadn't seen him in six months, since Chicago.

Her family wondered why Sydney maintained a liaison with a man over a thousand miles away.

She once told her mother the relationship had the three S's. It had safety, stability and sex. Her mother blanched at the last part, but there wasn’t much she could say. Syd was an adult, and she didn't need the emotional roller coaster that came with relationships.

Sydney and Lance met in college and became friends, later lovers. Neither had wanted to move, so they didn’t. Lance stayed in Las Vegas and Sydney in Fargo. They were both happy and spoke daily, confiding secrets and sharing dreams. Lance didn’t give her butterflies changing a tire, but at least he was constant. She may be her mother's daughter, but she wouldn’t repeat the same mistakes.

Sydney finished putting on the black spaghetti-strap dress and was ready to apply her face when the phone rang. “Hello?”

“Syd? Lance. I have terrible news, love.”

“What?” The man must have lost a tie or something.

“I won't be able to make it.”

“No!!” The frustration was evident in her voice.

“I have a client that needs some changes made right away. We have a presentation scheduled in three days.”

“I understand.” Her voice was flat.

“You don't know how awful I feel. I’ll make it up to you, though. I'm scheduled in

Minneapolis in a few months. I'll drive up and see you.”

“That'll be fine.” She couldn’t hide the disappointment.

“Okay, honey. Have a good time. You’re not alone; go out with the girls. We’ll catch up another time.”

“Yeah. Bye.” Sydney hung up the phone, feeling utterly discouraged.

How could this be happening?

* * * *

Sydney got up to answer the door. “Come in.”

“Syd? What’s wrong? Why are you in a towel?”

“Lance isn’t coming.”

“So?”

“So! So look at what I packed.” She pointed to the suitcase in the corner of the room.

Gwen assessed her clothes. “Syd, this is fine. You do realize this is a convention, and there are some cute and single men down-stairs?”

Sydney stared at her. “Ugh!” She dropped back on the bed dramatically.

“Aren’t you the girl that told me, “Men aren’t reliable; don’t invest your heart?”“

“You have the memory of an elephant. It’s annoying.” Sydney was not pleased.

“I know, and aren’t we lucky I don’t act like one? Seriously, you can’t afford to worry about this. It’s gonna set your mood for this whole conference. You have to move past it.”

“I know.” Sydney got up, reluctantly “But I really need a good pout.”

“I find pouting in a room full of men has tremendous success at reeling them in.”

Sydney smiled. Gwen knew just what to say. “Thanks. I needed that,” she said, hugging her friend.

“You’re welcome.” Gwen stayed the course and pushed Sydney away, “Now get dressed so we can get going.”

The next few days were spent going to parties and staying out late. Gwen moved into

Sydney’s room, having woken up in the middle of the night to find her assigned roommate chain-smoking and watching her sleep.

One night, Sydney stayed out even later than Gwen did. She crept in quietly, to not wake Gwen. Once she latched the door, she heard noises coming from their room.

Oh

God, Gwen brought a man back to their room.

Not wanting to be invited into that bed, she raised her voice

“Gwen?”

Sydney heard the rustling of covers and proceeded further in.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, must’ve gotten a little excited with the man in my dream.”

“Don’t you mean the man in your bed? I can see him under the covers, Gwen.”

Sydney placed her hands on hips for effect.

“Him, too.” Gwen seemed to duck under the covers a little more. Poor thing, she was blushing from ear to ear.

“Okay.” Sydney laughed. “I’m gonna hop in the shower. Be out in fifteen.”

Neither of them spoke of the incident later, but sat up most of the night on the balcony drinking a bottle of Chardonnay that Gwen’s gentleman caller brought with him.

“What do you love about him?” Gwen asked

“Lance?”

“Yes, Lance. Who else?”

Sydney paused. This would be the time to tell Gwen about Peter and get another perspective. She knew Gwen didn’t care for Lance. That wasn’t what guided her decision, though. Gwen would always opt to pursue the new man. “I like how he encourages my dreams.”

“I didn’t ask what you liked; I asked what you loved.”

“Same thing.”

“No, it’s not.” Gwen was silent for a few moments. “He doesn’t love you.”

“You don’t know that, Gwen.”

“He doesn’t. If he did, he would be here. He would find a way.”

“He was busy.”

“Syd, take a reality pill. When was the last time you saw him?”

“Six months ago.”

“Don’t you think if it was real, you two would make time for each other?”

“We do.”

“No, you don’t. You both do what’s convenient.”

“I don’t know why you’re so concerned.”

“I’m concerned … because men fairly drool over you, and you’ve committed to merely settling.”

“I’m not settling,” Sydney said defensively

“What are you doing then?”

“I’m living my life, Gwen! If I wanted advice on how to live it, I have a whole family to tell me. I don’t need you telling me too.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset, just tired.” And with that, Sydney rolled over.

* * * *

After the convention, that conversation stuck in Sydney’s mind most of the drive home. Gwen didn’t know what she was talking about. Lance did love her. He was just busy. If she admitted the truth, he was frequently busy. She remembered once when she scheduled a cruise at the last minute a conflict came up, and she’d ended up spending her romantic rendezvous with her mother. She was the only person available to take the ticket. Her mother ranted on about how men slip away when most convenient. Another moment of lecturing that re-affirmed what Sydney already believed. She may have a few moments of disappointment in this relationship, but it was better than having a broken heart. Lance may not make her pulse race, act impulsive or say things that made her blush. Nevertheless, he was one thing: constant. He was a phone call away and usually made time for her.

Sydney shook off her negative opinion of Lance by the time she plopped down on her bed at home. She considered the event of the past week. Lance had disappointed her, but they had decided long ago not to move beyond friendship and occasional sexual romps. Why should she want more? She just did; even now Sydney wanted to share the excitement of pitching her novel with someone, someone who could share the same passion for her dream.

What’s stopping you?

She reached for the phone and dialed Lance’s number.

“Hello?” a groggy voice echoed through.

“Lance, did I wake you?” Sydney glanced at the time. It was only eleven.

“I must have dozed off.”

“I thought I’d call and update you on my trip. Maybe celebrate?” Her body quivered in anticipation. She had become so use to this part of their life together. Phone sex was the one thing they excelled at. They didn’t really need each other but there was something arousing about sharing this intimacy together.

“How was the trip?”

In the space of time it took for Sydney to tell him about the parties and the contacts she made, Sydney removed all of her clothes. While getting under the covers, she mentioned rooming with Gwen but left out her meeting an attractive stranger.

“Sounds like it went well,” Lance responded.

“It did, so how ‘bout some celebrating?” She snuck her hand below the covers.

“Not tonight Syd. Sorry, I’m just beat.”

“Um … okay … that’s fine. “ She settled back, disappointed.

Sydney lay for a few minutes trying to quell the hormones built within her. She was entirely caught up in her own need.

Well hell! Might as well go for it.

She got up and headed for her vanity. Opening the top drawer, she found her favorite vibrator. Sydney assumed the position on the bed, laying back and bending her knees.

She closed her eyes.

Her lover kissed her deeply, his tongue sent shivers of anticipation coursing through her. His hand seared a path from the nape of her neck to her breast. She curled into his touch. He explored her breast, rolling her nipple into a tight peak.

She tried to view his face, but he rolled her onto her side so he could enter her from behind.

Sydney could feel the cool brush of his erection against her hot wet flesh. She pressed back, touching him until she felt him enter her. He plunged in and out of her wanton haven

“Look at me,” his voice broke with huskiness

The sight of him brought a frenzy of simultaneous explosions. His name was on her lips when she opened her eyes.

“Peter.”

She should do something for him. What did you do for a knight in shining armor?

Images of seeing him dressed in chain mail and little else flashed through her head. The heat crept up her cheeks.

Chapter 4

Peter was caught by surprise as he walked into his office. On his desk was the largest bouquet he’d ever seen. It seemed alive, bursting with crimson and russet plants.

“Laverne!” He leaned out the door. “Where’d these flowers come from?”

Laverne, his middle-aged secretary, rolled over to the door on her chair, peered in and said, “They were delivered this morning.”

“Who are they from?”

Eyeing the bouquet and shrugging her shoulders at him, she replied, “You’ll have to read the card.”

Annoyed that she stated the obvious, Peter shouted as she started to roll back, “By the way, quit rolling around, I don’t want to redo the floors.” She stood and pushed her chair back to her desk. Peter felt guilty, but he shouldn’t. She was his secretary; Laverne worked for him. Peter was supposed to tell her what to do, but he still felt guilty.

Peter lifted the card and read:

Thanks again for all your help! If I can ever return the favor, let me know. Sydney Wagner

Sydney. He thought back to their meeting, over a week ago. She sent the flowers.

Images of her sent a rush of blood through him and soon he was rock hard.

“Laverne! Which floral company delivered these?” Peter swung around to see

Laverne right there with a stack of papers in hand.

“

FTD

delivered them. I can find out if they were local or not?”

“Please do.”

“These are stock closes from last night. Buzz Caulfield called five times already.

You might want to call him back.”

“Okay.”

“Bill Mitchell called about the glitches in payroll. Apparently, we caught the latest virus going around.”

“I told you to quit downloading that porn, Laverne.” Peter winked, hoping for a smile to make amends.

Laverne didn’t miss a beat. She was familiar with Peter’s less than subtle sense of humor along with the inability to admit when he was wrong. Sometimes, she felt more like a parent than a secretary. She watched out for Peter’s best interests, professional and personal, and probably understood his motives better than anyone else. “Bill has to install a patch. It should be completed before the end of the week.”

“Anything else?”

“No, that should cover it. I’ll get you the number for the florist as soon as my porn is done downloading.” She winked back at him and returned to her desk.

He reviewed the portfolio in his hand. Peter wasn’t surprised that Buzz called him.

Damn! When did the stocks go up? They were only up a few points, but Buzz was purchasing them by the hundreds, and the money would soon stack up. Peter questioned if he missed something when he originally reviewed the stock. He picked up the phone and dialed Buzz’s office.

His secretary answered. “Buzz Caulfield’s office.”

“This is Peter Kane. I’m returning Mr. Caulfield’s call.”

“One moment, please.”

As Peter waited, he looked again at the flowers. Why hadn’t he figured out this problem with the stock sooner? He was pre-occupied with the pursuit of Sydney.

Granted, there hadn’t been any pursuit yet. Nevertheless, he was already more infatuated with her than with any woman of the past. He made a mental note to try and stay more focused on tasks at hand, not where he wanted his hands to be. He thought of her breasts under the white halter-top as they'd eaten breakfast.

I’d love to touch her—

“Peter! What the hell kind of Mickey Mouse operation are you running? You may be able to rob me in the air, but I’ll be damned if you’re gonna steal from me where I live!”

“Buzz, calm down.”

“Calm down! Have you seen the morning paper?”

“This is not totally unexpected. We need to watch it a few more days, to see where it will trend. Remember when you bought Tekno Plastic, and the roller coaster that was?”

“Hell, yes! But it was brand new.”

“Technically, this is, too. The stock’s been public fewer than six months. If you want, I can have Laverne fax over their latest prospectus.”

“Now, that sounds like the first capital idea you’ve had.”

“I want you to be comfortable with where we put your money.”

“So do I. Now, how ‘bout sending over those plane specs of yours?”

“I don’t think so, Buzz.”

“Hell, it was worth a try.”

“Indeed, it was.”

Peter hung up the phone as Laverne walked into the office. “Laverne, I’m going to need a prospectus for Mr. Caulfield’s latest investment faxed to his office.”

“Not a problem.” She still stood there.

“Yes?”

“I have the floral shop’s number. It’s local. I made a phone call, and they informed me that Miss Sydney Wagner always orders flowers from them.”

“Really? Why’s that?”

“Because it’s right next door to her own storefront, The Starving Artist.”

“Which is?”

“A bookstore.”

“Laverne, you are a gem. Lunch is on me.”

“If lunch is on you, why not pick it up at the bookstore, they have a café too.”

“Did I mention you are a genius?”

“No. However, I’ll remind you when I need a raise.”

“Agreed.” Peter grinned, if all went well, Laverne would get her raise.

Peter arrived at

The Starving Artist within fifteen minutes. He entered the small storefront and was assailed by the noise of people. They seemed to fill every chair, every niche. Apparently, Sydney had no trouble keeping the place busy, but he didn’t see her anywhere in the store. Peter waited in line at the café counter. There was a petite brunette with a pixie haircut running her tail off behind the counter. As he looked around the store, he admired the red oak bookshelves and maple floors. The red, green and gold color scheme worked well. Peter wondered who did the decorating. Sydney? If so, she had real talent and should seriously consider taking up a design career.

“Can I help you?” the girl behind the counter asked.

“I’m looking for Sydney Wagner.”

“Why is that?” She placed her hands on her hips and suddenly appeared serious.

“I’d like to speak with her.”

“About?” She was agitating him.

“Nothing that concerns you.”

“If it’s about the store, it does concern me; I’m her partner.”

So, that was the burr in her butt. “It’s not business.” He tried to give her a dazzling smile. “May I speak with her?”

She squinted skeptically at him before speaking. “Wait over there.” She gestured to the chaise lounge in a corner near the window. “I have some customers to wait on and then I’ll fetch her from the back.”

Peter complied; he didn’t have much choice. He sat down. What a horrible person to have to work with…

* * * *

Sydney stared at the screen in front of her. How did they contract a virus in their payroll system?

Ugh!

She and Courtney would pull an all-nighter on payroll.

At least we’ll have coffee this time.

The last time they did payroll was right after they opened. It hadn’t been done in almost a year, since they got the new automated system, complete with punch clock.

“Syd?” Courtney stepped into the office. “Something wrong?”

“Looks like we’ll have to dust off the calculators and brew the Braun all night; we’ve got a virus in the payroll system.”

“Crap! How’d that happen?”

“Wish I knew. We’re lucky there are only three of us working here or this would be a nightmare.”

“Did you call someone about the virus?”

“No, but that’s a good idea.”

“Oh. I thought maybe…” Courtney paused.

“Maybe what? You wanna try it? Court, the last time you touched this thing, I had to re-install half the software.

“Once again, I’m sorry about the systems crash. I’m not computer literate, okay?

Besides, that wasn’t what I was going to mention.”

“Sorry. I’m listening.”

“There’s a suit here to see you.”

“You don’t think it’s one of those building permit guys, do you?”

“God, I hope not.” Courtney turned about three shades of red, and responded, “I was rather rude. Told him I was a partner, and he could speak with me. Only, I wasn’t quite that tactful.”

“Jeez, Court! You gotta learn to think things through.” She got up and started walking down the hall, toward the opening right behind the café counter. “Where’s he sitting?”

“In the alcove, by the window.”

Sydney eyes swept past Daisy working the counter and instantly turned around, pressing her back against the wall, hoping he hadn’t seen her. “How did he find me?”

“You know him! Who is it?”

“I can’t believe he found me.”

“Is he a stalker? Do you want me to call the police?”

“Why should I have a stalker?”

“For the…”

Sydney cut her off. “No need to call the police. He’s not a stalker. Peter’s a stock-

broker.” She laughed at the pun.

“Stock-broker? What do we need a broker for?”

“We don’t. I met him on my way to Missouri.” Sydney found herself receiving the questioning look. She refused to acknowledge the gaze.

“On the way, not   the convention?”

at

“That’s right,” Sydney replied tersely, hoping her tone would put a stop to this questioning.

“Is he your detour?”

“Not that way.”

Courtney gave her a yeah-right look.

“I had a flat tire; he changed it for me. Afterwards, we ate breakfast together.”

Courtney started to laugh. “What? What’s so damn funny?”

“You.” She wiped her eyes. “If you aren’t the pot, and I’m the kettle. You just got done telling me how I don’t think things through and you’re getting help from total strangers. You had a phone to call home. Apparently ‘not thinking’ is in our genetic code.”

“It’s just that he was…”

“Tall? Blonde? Handsome? I do believe Gwen has finally converted you.”

“Gwen has not converted me! If you would let me finish my sentence, I’d tell you that he was there when I’d about given up changing the tire myself.” That sounded believable. “Trust me. You would have been the first person I called at four in the morning.”

“You didn’t leave until four-thirty.” Courtney corrected. Sydney thought her sister’s expression was smug.

“Whatever. I should have called. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll go see what he wants.”

Courtney watched her sister stomp away. Sydney was pretty sensitive about this. The circumstances gave Courtney pause as she watched the couple interact. For the first time, she saw a man that might lure Sydney away from the life they struggled to build.

Courtney was relieved that her sister may have found Mr. Right, yet saddened that she could lose Sydney. Of course, he might only be Mr. Right Now, which would do just as well.

* * * *

As a shadow fell across

The Fargo Forum

, Peter’s eyes traveled up. He never saw a more annoyed face. Sydney was quiet spectacular when irritated. Her displeasure was unmistakable, but he couldn’t suppress his pleasure at seeing her.

“Hello.”

“What are you doing here?” She was definitely peeved at him.

“I came to thank you. The flowers were a nice gesture, but totally unnecessary. I

already enjoyed your company, serving you. That was thanks enough.”

“Serving me? Weren’t you satisfying your curiosity and serving your libido?” Her

luminous sapphire eyes seemed to search for his true motives.

“I did satisfy my curiosity. I’m still hoping to satisfy my libido,” he admitted with a chuckle.

“Is that what you want now? Satisfaction?” She put her hands on her hips as if that would stop him. It wouldn’t. He found her challenge arousing. There was something about the fire in her eyes that made him want to dominate her.

Peter stood as he spoke. “I would like satisfaction.” Leaning over, he whispered into her ear “That can come later. First, I’d like pleasure.” Peter paused. He couldn’t resist. He leaned back, studying her face. He wanted to see the reaction in her eyes but was unable because they were closed. “The pleasure of your company, say, over dinner?”

Sydney opened her eyes. Peter saw curious, profound longing, followed by a blush.

“Dinner?”

“Yes. The pleasure of conversation. The satisfaction of food. What did you think I

meant?”

“You know very well what I thought.”

“I have no idea. Would you care to enlighten me?”

“No.” The blush began to spread, and he began to harden.

“Maybe you’d like to explain this pleasure and satisfaction over dinner?”

“I can’t.”

“You’re a writer. Do you have trouble with words?” He loved teasing her.

“I meant I can’t have dinner with you.”

“Why not?”

“Boyfriend. Remember?”

“I was hoping you’d forget,” he mumbled.

“What’s that?”

“How bad could it get? I’m just asking you out for dinner.”

“You insinuated something entirely different.”

“Did I? What would that be?” Peter spoke a breath away from her lips.

No answer.

Peter lowered his gaze and saw her staring at his lips. Who knew the trick to quiet her pretty, little mouth was to tempt it? This discovery increased the pressure in his already hard cock. “Miss Wagner?” Stepping back, he waved his hand.

The spell was broken.

“Dinner?” Peter really needed Sydney to say yes.

“Just dinner?” She seemed wary.

“Did you have something else in mind?” The double meaning of his gaze was obvious.

“No! Dinner is fine.” A blush crept into her cheeks and he hoped her mind was bombarded with the same images he had.

“Okay.” Peter leaned back, assessing her reaction.

“Where are we going?”

“How ‘bout we decide when I pick you up?”

“All right.” She seemed to relax.

“Where should I pick you up?”

“Here’s good.”

“Seven-thirty?” He peered at her intently.

“Sure.”

“See you then.” Peter began walking towards the door. “I look forward to it.”

“That makes one of us,” Sydney mumbled.

Chapter 5

Peter pounded on the glass door again. Meet her here, that’s what she said. He thought Sydney would be working late. The bookstore was locked up and closed for the night. Peter turned, frustrated, and headed back towards his car.

“Mr. Kane.”

Circling around, he was speechless. He told Sydney to dress up. Under dressed was more like it. She was wearing an unadorned black cocktail dress with a plunging neckline, exposing a fair amount of cleavage. Peter made a mental note to take her dancing and get a better view. She wore a double-strand pearl choker, and her hair was down, one strand curling and outlining a nipple, teasing him. A shame she didn’t have bare legs, with those black pumps. Peter felt like lifting that dress and pumping into her.

“I was worried you changed your mind.”

“I was afraid I’d be changing my doors. These are glass, you know. Not meant for a beating.”

“Let’s say I was impatient.”

“Let’s say you owe me a new door if this one cracks anytime soon.”

“Deal. You ready?”

“I need one thing from upstairs.”

“Upstairs?”

“I have an apartment upstairs. You wanna tour?” She motioned for him to follow and led him past the deli counter, down a hallway then up a set of stairs right before an office.

Peter pursued Sydney up the stairs. As she swayed, he was left speechless. Not only did her hips swing seductively, but he managed to catch a glimpse of stockings and garter straps. Peter paused to breathe.

“There’s more to see up here.” She beamed back at him. “Come on.”

Did Sydney have any idea what that phrase suggested to him? Or the exquisite torture her ensemble was putting him through? Did she care? Peter doubted it. Sydney would probably laugh, and her breasts would vibrate, and her lips would curve up and her sparkling blue eyes would dance … Peter shook his head and followed her up. How was he going to get through this night?

When he reached the top of the stairs, she pointed to a door on the right, “This is my brother’s room.” Sydney turned left to turn around the railing, pointed to her right again

“My sister’s room.” They continued along the banister, towards an open area on the left of the L-shaped hall. “This is our living room and over there to the left is our kitchen/dining area. If you need the bathroom, it’s off the kitchenette to your left.”

“Where are you going?” Peter asked as she headed to a door off the right.

“My room.”

“Need any help? Undoing a zipper? Washing your hair?”

She laughed. Her breasts bounced, and she closed the door.

Torture!

There was no other word to describe the ache in his groin.

Peter glanced around, hoping to find a distraction that wouldn’t perpetuate the hard-

on he already had. Their living room windows were the same style as downstairs, and they had put cushions in to add extra seating. The kitchen did seem rather small. Four bar

stools on the living room side of a counter served as a dining room. The living room looked to entertain, whereas the kitchen seemed designed for more intimate family gatherings. She mentioned a sister and brother. That was good; at least she had protection. “Where are the siblings at?” He asked loudly.

“They went to my mom’s,” she responded from the other side of the door.

“Where’s your mom live?”

“North side.”

“Dad?”

“Good question,” Sydney said as she entered the room. “I think I have everything.”

“What you were missing?”

“My lipstick and an evening bag.”

“The evening bag you need. The lipstick will come off.”

“Not if I can help it,” she vowed.

* * * *

Sydney observed Peter with lowered lashes as he drove to The Constellation, a rooftop restaurant downtown. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could maintain a cool façade. Peter was wearing black slacks, a white shirt, and no tie. The first few buttons on his shirt were undone, making Sydney want to undo the rest. How was she going to make it through the night without leaping on him? She must be getting desperate.

She could kill Lance for his lack of interest. Lance wasn’t to blame for how their relationship turned out or for her attraction to Peter. A discussion between her and Lance was long overdue.

“You look sexy,” Peter’s voice interrupted her notions.

“Um … thanks.”

“You’re welcome. You don’t take compliments well.”

“Does anyone?”

Peter chuckled. “More than you know.”

“I always thought it a sign of vanity.”

“You aren’t vain?”

“There’s a big difference between vanity and pride.”

“I agree. You are prideful.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Do you forget how we met? You’d no doubt still be fumbling with that tire cover,”

he teased her.

“I think you like the idea of a woman being helpless. If you hadn’t come along, I

would’ve been lost. You must have a hero complex.”

“If helping someone makes me a hero, I’ll accept that.”

“I take it back. You think your God’s gift to women.”

“I’m not God’s gift to women.”

“Really?” Her voice was ladled with sarcasm.

“I wouldn’t mind being your gift, though.”

“Maddening, that’s what you are.”

“No need to get mad. You can un-wrap me later.”

“I think there’s a little bit of the devil in you.”

“I’m hoping there’s some in you, too.” He winked at her.

“Not the kind you’re hoping for.”

How was a girl supposed to get her bearings? Peter was right about some of the things he said. Did he have to be so sure? Peter was the type of man Sydney avoided in the past. Men who think they’re right don’t like to be contradicted. Why he insisted on provoking her, she didn’t know. Maybe that’s why she was fascinated by Peter. He didn’t fit the mold Sydney was accustomed to. It might explain why she wanted him, which begged the question, why deny herself? There was no reason for her heart to get involved. It was much too early anyway. Perhaps there was still time to seize this delicious opportunity.

“Sydney, we’re here. Are you ready?” Sydney peeked up at Peter as he opened the door and offered her his hand.

“More than you know.” She accepted his hand.

* * * *

Peter wasn’t sure if this was the right woman. She was vivacious and laughing and seemed fascinated by him.

“So explain more about this air-racing thing. How do you know who wins?” She asked pointing her salad fork at him.

“It’s based on time. Whoever completes in the fastest time from point A to B.”

“Do you race together?”

“Sometimes, but that’s more for exhibition.”

“You seem like an exhibitionist,” she commented with a smile.

Maybe it was the champagne. Maybe it was food. Or maybe it was his money.

Doubtful; if that were the case, she would’ve been impressed sooner. He couldn’t resist, “Where’s the girl I asked out?”

“Right here,” she stated.

“I’m not so sure. I could’ve sworn that girl didn’t giggle.”

“Then why did you ask her out?”

“I’m attracted to her.”

“She’s attracted to you, too,” Sydney flirted

He hadn’t expected this. Part of him wanted her to be cool so he could get through the evening; the other wanted to run out of here to the nearest haven they could find.

When he looked at her, his mouth watered; Peter wanted to taste her skin and see if blushes had a flavor of their own. Sydney was stunning. He didn’t mind her independent, ice-princess routine. As soon as she laid on the charm, Peter became a slave to his own libido. “Would you like to dance?”

“If you don’t mind your toes being stepped on.”

“Why should you mind stepping on my toes? It hasn’t stopped you so far.”

“I’m telling you, I was born with two-left feet.”

“It’s a slow song.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Accepted.”

Once Peter embraced Sydney on the dance floor, things got worse. He could feel her breasts against him, and smell her scent. It was intoxicating. They swayed with the music.

Her hips were in tune with his. All Peter could think about was how well she fit against

him. “I think your left feet are doing fine.”

“Well, this isn’t what I would call dancing. I was expecting something different.”

“It could be.” He whispered into her ear.

“Don’t excite a girl, Mr. Kane,” she breathed against his lips.

Peter stared into her eyes and he could see the dare. He put his hand on the back of her neck, bent his head and sealed their fate.

Sydney’s lips were soft against his and her body formed closer to his own. Her hands wound their way around the back of his neck, and she clung to him. His hands massaged her hips and then roamed back to cup and draw her against him. She opened her mouth, and he wanted more. Syd tasted like honey. Peter moved his hand up the length of her arm. The strap of the dress slipped from her shoulder. She broke away.

It was like having a bucket of ice dumped on him. Peter hadn’t realized how much he needed her until she tugged back. Sydney adjusted the fallen strap and appeared ready to bolt.

He locked his arms around her. “Don’t go.”

“I don’t know what happened.”

“I do. I got carried away. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I think I’m fine now.”

“All right.” Peter loosened his hands, relieved that Sydney would not leave him.

“Peter.”

“Yes.”

“You can kiss me again.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to stop. You see, I’d rather share a more intimate dance.”

“So would I.”

“Are you sure?” Peter didn’t think he would be able to handle it if she cast him off at the last minute.

“Very.”

“Do you mind if we get a room in the hotel? I don’t think I can wait.” Peter knew he wasn’t playing fair. He didn’t care. He wanted Sydney any way he could have her.

“I can’t either.” She wound her arms around his neck and pulled him towards her, “Now kiss me.”

* * * *

The half-hour spent checking into the hotel was a distant blur as Sydney felt Peter’s weight pushing her against the wall of their room. Moment’s earlier, he struggled getting the card key to work. She giggled at the memory

“I thought we’d never get in here,” Peter said, kissing her neck as he shrugged out of his jacket.

“Less talking, more kissing,” Sydney muttered, catching his coat and throwing it to the chair across the room. It missed and hit a lampshade before dropping to the floor.

He lifted her leg and, gazing down, saw those stockings and all but expired on the spot. “You were killing me in these,” he said as he touched the soft lace against her skin.

Her skin burned at his touch, and she moaned. Peter was mesmerized. Her head lolled back, and he moved his hand higher, skimming his knuckles over the rim of her panties. Her hips arched towards him. “Peter.”

Her voice sounded like a siren calling him to the rocks. Peter couldn’t control his

actions. He ran his thumb under her panties as he prepared to remove them. “Sydney?

These need to come off.”

“Yes.”

Peter went to his knees, like a man searching for water in the desert and found it. He lifted Sydney’s dress and pulled down the barrier between them. Her scent filled his nostrils, and he was tempted to taste her sweetness.

There will be time later.

He looked his fill, the curls were trimmed and a darker shade of blonde than what was on her pretty little head. “You’re beautiful.”

Sydney moaned. Peter cupped her in response, and she shifted her hips towards his hand. He inserted his middle finger inside the delicate opening. She was ready for him, but Peter didn’t want to rush this. He wanted this to burn into her memory. He tested the slippery softness of her, inserting his finger into her heat. His thumb managed to find her clit and rub lightly.

Sydney leaned against the wall, falling into Peter’s hands. He was working magic with one hand running his finger back and forth along her opening, meeting his thumb.

When the thumb massaged her clit, his middle finger would thrust into her core. “Peter.”

“Yes.”

“Put in two.”

No answer

“Please,” she begged by rubbing against him.

Peter came up and kissed her, answering her rhythm again, with two fingers. Sydney let out a gasp of unexpected pleasure. Peter lifted his head. “Okay?”

“Better.”

Peter could feel her melting.

“I want to feel your skin against mine,” she whispered as her fingers worked urgently on the buttons of his shirt. After undoing the final button, she slipped it over his shoulders and stopped. Sydney reached a quandary. In order to get the shirt off, Peter would have to move his hands, and his hands were wonderful right where they were. Peter’s hand was performing a dance delicately across her folds, and the other was at her back, supporting her.

“It’s all right, sweetheart.” His voice caressed her skin as he licked the salt from her neck. “We’ll get there.”

Sydney relaxed and knew there was no need to rush forward into the night. They had hours before the sun would come up. She felt Peter’s hand move to the backside of her dress. She was pressed so tight against the wall that she felt the metal zipper caress her back on the way down. Peter continued performing that phenomenal dance, thrusting his fingers into her until the zipper reached the bottom…

Peter watched Sydney’s breathing increase; she continued to curve against him. He lifted his hand up to work the dress off her shoulders. He managed to release her arms but her breasts worked in opposition, holding up the material as she continued to meet his thrusting fingers and mold toward his body.

“Put your back on the wall, gorgeous.”

Sydney complied, and the dress fell to rest on her hips.

“Oh, my God,” Peter spoke in awe. He stared at the most spectacular twin orbs he’d ever laid eyes on. “They’re perfect.” Peter probed Sydney’s eyes. She seemed surprised he’d spoken so. “I’ve never seen anything more spectacular,” he reassured her.

“Sydney?”

“Hmm?” She was so close. His words were going to push her over the edge.

“I need to stop.”

Her questioning gaze seemed underlined with slight hurt as he stopped working his fingers inside her. She felt him pull his hand away. Sydney slowly regained balance and reality. Why did he stop? What was wrong? Was it her? “Peter?”

Before she could think of how to broach the subject of his absence, he was kissing her again. Both his hands were on her shoulders and running up into her tresses. Peter’s hands moved down her neck to gently knead and stroke her breasts. He cupped them and began to stroke each nipple between his thumb and forefinger. It never occurred to

Sydney her breasts could ache with desire, yet they did. She didn’t want Peter to stop this new torture.

“You are so stunning, it is impossible not to touch all of you.” And it was. He cradled her breasts and massaged the pink tips until they were swollen. Peter couldn’t remember a single woman who had let him fondle her breasts and enjoyed it with him.

“Tell me you like it.”

“I like it,” Sydney moaned with a sigh.

“Tell me you want me.”

“I want you.” She began to loosen his belt.

“I want you, too.”

Sydney removed his belt and aimed again for the chair, this time overshooting it, and the belt clicked against the window before it fell.

“Slow down, darling.” He glided his hands over her waist, grabbing her dress and sliding it down her legs to puddle at the floor. He carefully picked up the dress with one hand and hung it on the closet door within reach. Soon, his other hand glided back up her legs. As he turned back to her, he came face to face with her sex. She glistened. He couldn’t resist. He tenderly parted her thighs.

Just a little taste.

He swept his tongue over her. Sydney’s moan encouraged him. He twirled it around her clit until he felt it harden.

Her hands rubbed the back of his head, and he flicked his tongue over her once again before continuing to climb up. He kissed her navel. And when he reached the sister peaks, he twirled his tongue around each and continued up the valley towards her neck.

He whispered against her ear. “You are so sexy.”

When he kissed her, Sydney could taste herself on his lips. It was stimulating. She wound her hands around his neck.

“Are you ready?” Peter asked one last time

“Oh, yes.”

Peter reached into his back pocket and retrieved his wallet. Sydney watched in fascination as he pulled out a foil packet. She reached down to finish undoing his pants and noticed that, as the zipper came down, his cock sprang out. She could feel his hardness against her, and she rubbed herself against him.

“Syd!” he gasped. “Don’t, or I won’t make it, sweetie.”

“Sorry. I want you so bad.”

Peter paused in surprise at her confession. He opened the foil packet and was about to remove the contents when Sydney’s hand stopped his wrist. “Let me.”

Peter gave her the packet, and she removed the condom. The wrapper sailed out of her fingers. He felt her finger caressing him as the latex covered the tip of him. One hand

moved in front of the latex as the other rolled the sheath over him. He never knew putting on a rubber could be foreplay. When she completed the slow, torturous process, he put his hands under her buttocks and lifted her onto his straining erection. He couldn’t help it.

Peter thrust all the way into Sydney’s warmth as he pushed her back to the wall. He could feel her fingers clutching at his neck. “Lover, I can’t be gentle. Not this time. I need this too much.” His voice was strained.

“I know,” she replied, wrapping her legs around him and holding on.

Her surrender to his overpowering passion was Peter’s undoing. He thrust into her wetness with unrestricted desire. Sydney fit herself over him like a glove and cried out against his neck as she neared the pinnacle moment. When she climaxed, the spasms within her sent Peter over the edge, and he roared out and claimed her.

Peter managed to hold Sydney as his knees buckled and he collapsed to the floor.

Lying back on the rug, his shirt was unbuttoned, his boxers still on, and his pants wrapped around his ankles. It would be comical if not for the woman in silk stockings sprawled across him like a blanket. Life was good.

* * * *

Sydney woke from a satiated sleep. She glanced down at the lover, a new one added to the small list. Peter was now at the top. It was hard to make love and leave. Make love.

Sydney sighed. Last night, they managed to pull themselves off the floor and jump into the shower. He washed her hair and commented how she could tip him for shampoo-

service. She laughed, and Peter grabbed her and kissed her. “Do you know how irresistible you are?” he’d asked.

Sydney stared down at her feet, “No.”

“Yes, you do. Let’s get out of here. I can’t take you in the shower. I’ll injure myself.” His grin was infectious.

So they made love on the bed, with her on top and Peter’s hands on her hips. She could all but feel the indentations his fingers marked on her skin. Peter said she was beautiful. His love-words spurred her on. She never felt so uninhibited. This man made her the naughty girl in bed, as if she felt a need to compete with his past. He hadn't talked about it. Sydney guessed with his good looks and charm there was a long line of beautiful women in his past. It would be hard to stand out in that line-up.

But why should she want to stand out? She didn’t want something long-term, just a one-night stand; that was the plan. Maybe a fling over the summer? She could handle sex like this all summer. It would help her move past Lance.

Lance.

She hadn’t thought about him once, the whole evening. Maybe that was a sign that she could move on. She didn’t have to wait for him.

In fact, Peter could help her move into the role of single, dating and having really good sex. She liked that idea. She could date Peter. He would want to move on by fall anyway. Sydney knew Peter was not the type of man to settle down, which was fine; she wasn’t the type of lady who needed a man in her life anyway.

It was the perfect plan. In order to keep it perfect, Sydney didn’t want Peter to get the impression that she wanted something more. With that in mind, she quietly moved about the room collecting her things. Each item she picked up brought a wave of memories. She couldn’t find her stockings after searching under the bed. Sydney stared while Peter slept.

Even in sleep, his lips were sensual. Sydney placed a feather-light kiss upon them before

she tiptoed from the room. As she closed the door, part of her regretted this relationship couldn’t be permanent.

Chapter 6

Peter could feel the sunshine pouring in on his face. He reached across the bed.

Making love to Sydney was his first idea until his hand grasped thin air. His eyes opened and he turned his head. Maybe she was in the bathroom. “Syd?”

No answer.

He hadn’t truly expected one. Why did she leave? He checked the clock. It was nine.

Relief flooded through him; Sydney probably had to work this morning. He could use a cup of coffee. He planned on having coffee in bed, although if he got to see Sydney at the

Starving Artist, that was fine, too. He whistled as he walked to the bathroom. As he turned on the water, he couldn’t help but remember the last time he was in this shower with Sydney. He turned the valve to cold.

Peter was surprised to see the coffee shop wasn’t open yet. He peered in the window and saw the same annoying brunette behind the counter. “Is Sydney here?” he asked when the door was opened.

“She’s upstairs. Peter, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You can go up,” she said. “It’s unlocked.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

He headed up the stairs, two at a time. Peter was surprised to find no one in the loft;

he'd expected to find Sydney. Looking to the door of her bedroom, Peter felt compelled to walk towards it. He reached the room, pausing with his hand on the handle. Should he go in? This closed area was her private space. He already knew Sydney intimately and couldn’t see how this would be an invasion. When he opened the door and peered into the room, he saw Sydney passed out on the bed, sleeping! Peter felt frustrated. Why did she come home? She could’ve slept at the hotel, and then he would have been able to wake her with pleasure. “Sydney?”

He walked towards the bed. Sitting down, Peter spoke again. “Sydney, honey, you have to wake up.” He quietly stirred her by the shoulders.

“Hmmm.” Sydney stretched her arms overhead and opened her eyes. He was disappointed when her arms came out, and she wore a long T-shirt. Her eyes widened.

He’d surprised her. “Peter? What are you doing here?”

“Why did you leave?” he asked

“Why I left? That’s why you’re here?”

“Yes. Imagine my disappointment waking up alone. I wanted to wake you with kisses.” Peter leaned down to demonstrate his intentions.

“Stop.” Sydney put up her hands to block him.

“Why?”

“My brother and sister are here, and I don’t want Patrick walking in here at the moment.”

“Okay.” Peter didn’t bother to disguise his displeasure.

“Don’t be that way. Tell you what, why don’t you step out for a minute while I get changed.”

“Why do I have to step out?” he asked, confused.

Sydney gave him a look that clearly said he should know exactly why. Peter didn’t have a clue. He shrugged his shoulders and stepped out. When the door shut behind him, he gazed out the window at the Fargo skyline. Sydney was going to have to explain these hot and cold moments she was having. They couldn’t continue like this.

They.

It sounded nice. If he could melt Sydney’s ice-princess habit, they would make it. Peter admitted she thawed last night, and that was the way he liked her.

* * * *

She didn’t want to have this conversation with Peter. Why couldn’t he be a normal guy and relieved that he woke up alone? Her brother once complained of a woman who stayed at his house for three days.

Now she was going to have to explain the fling-plan. It wasn’t really a plan; it was more like an idea. A conceptual fling. The idea sounded ludicrous even to her. Sydney debated bringing up Lance again. It didn’t seem to affect Peter one way or another.

Maybe she should tell him she wanted to take things slow and not rush it, but that could be interpreted as less sex; Sydney didn’t want that. She grabbed the robe from the chair and threw it on. Glancing in the mirror, she put her wayward locks up in a quick topknot.

How Peter had found her appealing with tousled hair and no-makeup was a mystery.

She took a deep breath as she headed out the door and ran right into him.

Peter gripped her shoulders. “I was wondering what was taking so long.”

“I needed a moment. Sorry to keep you waiting.” She untangled herself and padded across the wood floor to the kitchenette. “Coffee?”

“Syd? Why did you leave?”

“Direct, aren’t you?”

“Well?”

“I don’t understand why you’re upset. Is it because you woke up with no one to satisfy your lust?”

Silence. Sydney thought maybe … just maybe … she’d struck a nerve. “Peter?”

“I’m not as base as that.”

“Aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not. Maybe if you’d stuck around instead of vanishing, you’d know that.”

He shook his head regretfully.

“I doubt it.” Her sarcastic tone concealed her emotions.

“You know, I’m getting sick of your cynical teasing.”

“I’m not a tease. Besides, every man’s dream is no-strings attached.”

“What?”

“You know, notch in the bedpost, that sort of thing.”

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing. This is what you believe about men?”

His astonishment was real, and Sydney regretted her unkind words. “Let’s just say

I’ve had unreliable role models.”

“Is that why you left?”

“No.”

“Syd, be honest.”

“Did you ever think that maybe I don’t like sleeping in strange places?” Sydney knew she didn't sound convincing.

“Do you?”

“No,” she admitted

“Syd?”

Sydney peeked up at him.

“Are you attracted to me?” Peter asked, realizing his original line of questioning was getting him nowhere.

“I would think that’s obvious after last night,” she stated flatly

“What’s wrong with seeing where this goes?”

“Nothing, I guess.” Maybe she wouldn’t have to embarrass herself after all.

“I’m not saying there’s gonna be a white picket fence at the end of the road, but I’d at least like to enjoy the walk.

“Don’t you mean ride?” she teased him

“I’d like that, too.”

“Would you like to now?” She winked seductively at him.

“Don’t you have siblings in residence?”

“It was a stall tactic.”

“Then by all means, let’s enjoy breakfast in bed,” Peter said, bowing.

Sydney giggled, took his hand and led him back to the bedroom. Her fling had begun.

* * * *

Later that morning, after another round with Peter and his departure, Sydney lay in bed trying to sort through her feelings. She allowed Peter to corner her.

What was I

thinking?

That was easy enough to answer.

I wasn’t.

Sydney let good looks and want make her decision. She shouldn’t want him. She did.

Every time she stared at him she felt desire and knew where Peter could take her. God, he was wonderful and attentive; it was like being worshiped.

Sydney sat up. What did Peter see in her? She gazed at the reflection. Her blonde hair was too thick to manage more than a ponytail on most days. Not to mention it had a horrible habit of curling in humid conditions. Her eyes were too dark to be considered blue. She looked lower; men liked breasts. Maybe that was the big draw, so to speak.

It must be something physical, because it wasn’t about personality. Sydney was downright rude, until last night, she admitted to herself. She couldn’t afford Peter getting close and bringing complications. Men couldn’t be trusted, especially with a woman’s heart. Sydney witnessed first hand her own mother’s heartache, long after her father's departure.

Before Sydney could delve further, she noted the silhouette in the doorway. “Yeah?”

“Nothing.” Her sister Courtney walked in, head down and plopped on the bed.

“Tell me.” Sydney swiveled around.

“Later.” Courtney’s voice cracked.

“Now. You’re obviously upset.”

“There’s nothing you can do.”

“Not if you don’t tell me.”

Courtney held up a little stick with tears in her eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

“What?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“I heard you. I mean … are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“How…”

Courtney stared at Sydney as it to say Oh please, are you stupid?

“Well, I know how! What I mean to say is … Oh Courtney … come here.” She opened up her arms. “It’s okay, we’ll figure this out.” Sydney could feel her sister nodding against her shoulder. “How far along are you?”

“About three months.”

“Three months!”

“Well, you know I’m always late, and that’s about the last time I…” Courtney pulled back. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Dropping this on you.”

“That’s okay. Have you told anyone else?”

“Like mom?”

“I was thinking the father.”

Courtney lowered her eyes to the floor, “It was a one-night stand, Syd.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve decided to keep my baby.”

“Courtney, that’s a big responsibility.”

“You’re not changing my mind.”

“I meant, don’t you want to tell your bed-partner in crime?” Sydney asked.

“I don’t know how to reach him.”

“Oh?”

“I know. It’s awful. I’m going to be a horrible mother. I won’t be able to tell my baby about his father!” Courtney threw her arms up.

“Calm down. I brought it up because I don’t want you to feel alone.”

“That’s why I told you.”

“I know.” Sydney put her arm around her.

“Syd?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t tell mom, okay?”

“Okay.” At that moment, Sydney knew what it was like to carry the world on her shoulders.

Chapter 7

Peter sat in his office, reminiscing about the morning spent with a sensual woman.

Sydney led him into her bedroom; once there, she pushed him back on the bed.

Sydney straddled him and began unbuttoning his shirt.

“You know, you’re completely unpredictable, don’t you?” he said as he gazed up at her.

Sydney’s response was to kiss him. Obviously, she was not in the mood to talk. Peter reached up and caressed the back of her neck as he held her mouth captive over his. Her hair smelled like lavender and it was curling at the ends. Her lips ran along his jawbone, and he could feel Sydney nibbling on his earlobe. “Sydney…” he moaned.

She leaned back as if assessing the damage, then put her hands on his shoulders and pushed. He fell back on the bed. His chest was bare, and she removed her nightshirt. She leaned over, perhaps to kiss him. He’d never know because once those magnificent breasts were close enough, Peter captured the tip in his mouth, and circled it with his tongue. They were such sensitive, rose-tipped peaks.

Sydney moaned.

Encouraged, Peter lightly nipped, and replaced his teeth with his thumb and forefinger. He made his way across to begin his assault anew. He felt Sydney’s hand at the back of his head. She may have begun their physical encounter, but that single action signaled her surrender. Peter felt himself hardening. “Sydney, I’m getting uncomfortable.”

She appeared disappointed as she gave up her position of power. She stood up and bent over him as she unbuckled his belt and began to undo the zipper. As she pulled down his pants and boxers, Peter felt her brush against him and he couldn’t control the tremor that passed through his body. Sydney stared up at him with a seductive glint. She moved her hand up his thighs and lightly stroked him with her fingers.

“Lay back,” she whispered against the length of him.

Peter obeyed. As he lay back on the bed, he felt Sydney moving with him. Her hair caressed him, and he shook in response. Sydney reached out and touched his member.

She was torturing him with her light touch and her breath so close to him. When she finally enclosed her mouth around him, it was almost too much. Peter feared he would expire instantly. His body was acting as if it belonged to an untried boy. Sidney caressed his thighs and abdomen as she moved along his cock. Her tongue flicked across the underside. He tried to enjoy the warmth surrounding him and the boldness of his lover, but found he was getting too close.

“Sydney…” he begged.

She lifted her head. He grabbed her arms and pulled her up. If Peter didn’t do something quick, he would expire. “Darling, we are going to need something.”

“Hold on.” She turned around and performed what looked like a yoga pose reaching for a vanity drawer opposite the bed.

Peter’s lips curled in appreciation. Unfortunately, she was back before he could comment.

Sydney slipped the latex down his tool; Peter could feel her heat against him and he

bucked in response. She teased along his shaft, until he was at her opening and then seated herself upon him. Peter was lost in the moment. He held her hips as she rode him like a mechanical bull. He could feel himself on the edge. Before he could pull back, Sydney let out a cry, and he felt her convulse around him. Seconds later, his own bellow filled the room as he joined her.

“Mr. Kane?” The speakerphone broke into his thoughts.

“Yes?” Peter hoped he sounded normal.

“Mr. Caulfield is on line two.”

“Thanks, Laverne.” Peter picked up the phone. “Hey, Buzz.”

“Kane! You’re a GOD-DAMN Genius!” Peter held the phone away from his ear as

Buzz’s voice barreled through the line

“Thanks.”

Buzz must have heard the confusion in his voice because he decided to elaborate.

“Where have you been all morning, boy?”

“Late breakfast meeting.”

“Well, she must’ve been a hell of a ride.” Buzz had no idea how right he was, except

Sydney did most of the riding. “That stock jumped through the roof.”

“I told you not to worry, Buzz.” Actually, he hadn’t seen the stock quotes for the day. Peter opened his desk and grabbed a yellow notepad. He ripped sheets off the page and crumpled them up, throwing them out his office door. Laverne finally made an appearance in the frame. Peter lipped the words, “Stock quotes.”

“Peter-boy, you don’t understand. I’m now majority share-holder!”

Laverne had returned in record time with Mr. Caulfield’s file and the highlighted quotes. Peter quickly analyzed the quotes and back at the purchases for the month. Buzz now owned ninety-five percent of W.O.O.D. Chips. “What do you want to do?”

“I’d like to buy the other five percent.”

“Of course.”

“Can you set this up, Pete? Or should I call my lawyer?”

“Call your lawyer, Buzz. Since this isn’t an open trade, it may require more legalities than I’m aware of. Do keep me informed, though.”

“Not a problem my boy. As always, it’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

“Thanks again.” Peter hung up the receiver. He felt like celebrating and only one person came to mind. Sydney.

Sydney was unique. She didn’t seem to want promise of anything, even dating. Peter hoped that wasn’t why he was attracted. It irritated Peter that he might covet Sydney because she didn’t want him. That wasn’t entirely true. She did want him, at least physically. Why did he feel like he needed more from her? He shouldn’t. As a matter of fact, once he slept with a woman, they usually changed their spots to stripes. Not Sydney;

she did something totally unexpected. She left him! He didn’t buy that one-night-stand story. Peter saw the light in her dark eyes when he mentioned the white picket fence.

Sydney wanted that happily-ever-after. Maybe it was the romance novelist in her. Peter came to the realization that maybe she wanted the romance, except not with him. He laughed. It was a shallow laugh. It would be ironic that the one woman he wanted more than physically would want him only in the flesh. He wouldn’t mind enjoying that flesh tonight. He picked up the phone and dialed her number.

* * * *

Sydney sat in the office, calculating payroll on an old whizzing machine, once owned by her grandmother. The thing was a dinosaur from the fifties. Her grandmother managed the books for the family construction business, and when Sydney and Courtney were kids, she’d let them play with it. Grandma, being a pack rat, had rolls of printer tape stocked into the next millennium that were currently stashed in the office closet.

“Oh my God! Where did you dig that thing up?” Sydney looked up to see her sister walk in.

“Grandma’s.”

“Really? The one we used to play with?”

“The same.”

“When did you get it?”

“Last week. Just in case. Mom stashed it in the attic.”

“I’m surprised she kept it.”

Sydney was too. It belonged to her dad’s family, and Valerie Wagner got rid of almost everything that belonged to their dad. “I don’t think she knew it was up there.”

“Was there anything else?”

“Of Dad’s?”

“Yeah.”

“Not that I saw. Why?”

“You remember all that baby stuff Grandma had?”

“I think Grandma still has it.”

“Really?”

“Actually, Court, it might be all she has left of her son.”

“I sometimes forget he left her, too.”

“We were old enough to realize what happened and understand. That’s the real tragedy. Maybe, if we’d been children, we would’ve been allowed to remember the good times.”

“Maybe. I doubt it; Mom was pretty upset. Syd?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think I’m doing the right thing? With the baby, I mean?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think.”

“I think it does.”

“Courtney. It only matters what you think and how you handle this. I‘ll support your decision. You’ll probably need it, even though mom defends a woman’s right to choose, she’s still a traditionalist at heart. She'd want you to be married first.”

“I know. You’d think Dad’s leaving would’ve changed that.”

“I think she loved him, and when he left, it devastated her. She hadn’t planned on being a single parent.”

“I remember.” Courtney’s voice was a whisper. “She forgot about us though; it was all about her pain.”

Sydney studied Courtney. She wasn’t surprised that her sister felt abandoned. She’d only been fourteen. All her childhood memories were still fresh when their father left.

She would try to remember the great things about Nick Wagner, the nice things dads do—camping, learning to ride bike and telling stories at night. Unfortunately, Syd wasn’t so lucky. She remembered those things too, but her mother needed Sydney and Patrick to be the young adults they were. She remembered mom crying herself to sleep at night, and

her brother taking a job to help support the family. They all tried to shelter Courtney.

Nick Wagner left a mark on his children all right: the question of why he left. If only he had cared enough to make an effort to contact them in the last ten years. He hadn’t. He didn’t care at all. “Courtney?”

Courtney glanced up.

“What did you need?”

Courtney shook her head as if that would make the memories disappear. “I came to tell you that Mr. Kane called. You weren’t answering the office line. Is there trouble in paradise so soon?”

“No. I turned the office phone off, so I could get the books balanced for the night.”

“So that’s what the relic is for.”

“Yeah. I still haven’t been able to repair this virus. I might have to call someone.”

“Oh, no, Super Syd might have to ask for help!” In that moment, Courtney mimicked the

Home Alone kid.

“Yeah, I might.” Syd held back her humor.

“So what do you want me to tell Mr. Kane?”

“He’s still on hold?!”

“Line three.”

“Jesus.” Sydney, annoyed, picked up the phone “Hello, this is Syd.”

Courtney stuck her tongue out, and backed out of the room.

“Sydney. Peter. Hope I’m not keeping you from anything.”

“No, just finishing up payroll, so I muted the office phone.”

“What are you doing tonight?”

“Nothing, why?”

“How’d you like to celebrate with me?”

“That sounds nice. What did you have in mind?”

“How ‘bout a dinner under the stars.”

“Sounds romantic.”

“Okay. I’ll see you in about an hour.”

“An hour? It’s only four o’clock.”

“I know, but it’ll take some time to fly to the North Shore.”

“Fly?” Sydney felt her stomach move up to her throat as she swallowed.

“Fastest way to get there, sweetie. Meet me at the airport in an hour.” The man sounded so confident.

Chapter 8

Peter stood outside the municipal airport waiting for what seemed like an eternity.

Where was she? He’d already prepared the plane for flight. Now, he stood waiting outside the hanger for his girlfriend. Girlfriend! Where had that idea come from? It was too soon; they’d only known each other a few weeks.

Damn if he didn’t love the idea of

Sydney filling that role. She was a perfect fit. She challenged him and drove him to near madness, mostly from want. He wanted her all the time. Then, he saw headlights turning into the airport.

Must be her

. Who else could it be? God, he hoped it was her. As the little sedan pulled in to park, he recognized it immediately. When Sydney got out, Peter decided she was well worth the wait. Sydney was wearing a black pantsuit; it would’ve appeared professional, if she hadn’t left the jacket open revealing the red silk top underneath. He stared at her as if he were a deer caught in headlights.

“What’s wrong? Do I have a spot or something?” she asked.

“Wow.” He spoke with awe.

“Really? I wasn’t sure what to wear. You didn’t say how I should dress.”

“Well, I think you did splendidly.” He meant it. Sydney seemed ready for every occasion, even when she wore nothing at all.

“I’ve never been on a small airplane.”

“Never?”

“Nope. This’ll be my first time.”

“So you can be my virgin; don’t think I’ve ever had one before.”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“Me?” Peter feigned innocence.

“Yes, you.” She poked his chest in mock challenge.

“I have no idea why. My intentions are always pure.”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay, that’s enough of this. We could play this game all day.”

“Can we?” She was being sarcastic, he was sure.

“We could.” He offered her his arm. “I’d rather go flying.”

“You know, I would too.” She looped her arm in his. They walked to the plane.

“What kind is it?”

“It’s a Swift. I figured it would be perfect for your first time up.”

“You knew?”

“Sweetheart, I hate to break it to you, but most people haven’t been in a private plane,” he teased.

“Do this a lot, do you?”

“With other girls?”

“Sometimes.”

“Anyone I know.”

“Not unless you know any

Playmates

.”

He opened the passenger door and let her get into the plane. Peter realized he was starting to treat her like his girlfriend. Damn, if he didn’t like that idea. Peter hoped

Sydney did, too.

* * * *

Sydney stared out the window, enthralled by what she saw. The clear, dark blue sky with stars starting to dot the horizon was breath-taking. The ground wasn’t quite clear.

She could make out shadows and water because the moon was so bright. It was like a lantern, illuminating everything it touched.

“It’s beautiful,” she spoke quietly.

“I’ve always thought so. We got lucky tonight. It’s pretty calm. The turbulence can be a real killer when you fly low like this.”

“Isn’t turbulence only at high altitudes?”

“I’m talking more about the wind and shifts in air movement.”

“Peter, you are not settling my virgin fears.” Her voice ended in a squeak.

Peter chuckled. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Sometimes I like to live on the theory that ignorance is bliss.” She mused on private memories, her face sober.

“What you don’t know can’t hurt you.” Peter didn’t seem to notice anything amiss.

“Something like that. It’s a big, scary world out there.” Sydney’s memories filtered back to the day her father left…

“Is that why you were difficult at our first meeting?” His voice cut through her thoughts.

“I wasn’t difficult,” she remarked, satisfied at how casual she sounded.

“Sweetheart, you were a b…”

“Don’t say it, Peter, not if you want me in bed tonight.”

Her threat was so specific that he didn’t dare risk it. “Being obstinate.”

“Obstinate?” She suppressed a giggle.

“Yes.”

“That was your word?”

“Yes.”

“I was a being obstinate.” Sydney wasn’t sure if she should laugh or be pleased he didn’t blurt out what he really wanted to say.

“Sweetheart, I don’t know what word you could possibly think I was going to say.”

Sydney couldn't hold back her laughter anymore. It fell out in giggles and by the time it was done, she was smiling from ear to ear. She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

“I love you.” She pulled back quickly removing her hands, instantly aware of what she had said aloud. She didn’t just tell him that.

It hadn’t come out

. Sydney was sure if she repeated that over and over in her head; he wouldn’t know she said anything.

Quick, cover it up

. “So how high up are we?”

“About ten-thousand feet, Love.”

He didn’t call her that. Sydney glanced over at him. He did… Peter was grinning at her with that knowing smile. The one that says, “I know you love me, now what can I do with that?” How could she spit that out? They hadn’t been together long enough for love to exist. Sydney wondered how she was going to make it through the night. How she was going to get past this moment, the one that exposed her heart to the hurt Peter could cause. She suddenly wished tomorrow would come, and that this night was over.

* * * *

Peter sat across from Sydney, who presently puzzled him. They finished their meal in virtual silence. She mentioned the food was good, but little else, including her earlier comment. Did she mean what she blurted out? More importantly, did he want her too? He realized he did, even if he wasn’t ready for that emotion himself; he wanted her to love him. It was obvious she hadn’t meant to confess; it was a slip of the tongue or perhaps simply the mood.

Peter found his voice “Syd?”

“Yes.” Her head was down as if she dreaded the question in his voice.

“Did you mean it?” He was struggling to comprehend why this was important to him.

“That I liked the flight? Oh yes! Actually, it was quiet enjoyable. I’m a little surprised because normally I get nauseous…”

Peter listened to her talk about her previous, less-than-stellar flight experiences.

Obviously, Sydney didn’t want to talk about it. Peter wondered if he should continue along this line. Ultimately he didn’t want to hear Sydney deny her feelings, if she had them.

“Actually, it’s not uncommon for people to become sick on those larger planes,”

Peter interjected, hoping to calm her by going along with her diversion. The look of relief on her face was apparent. The waiter probably noticed.

“Anything else for you two?” The waiter looked at Sydney.

“I’d like the chocolate cheesecake.”

“Sir?”

“I’ll have the apple pie.” As the waiter walked away, he studied Sydney. “Decisive aren’t you?”

“When it comes to chocolate? Yes.”

“What about men?” Peter probed.

“Are we talking about you?”

“Okay.”

“I haven’t decided about you.”

“Why not?” He began to wonder what she wanted.

“I don’t know what your intentions are.”

“My intentions are to see if I can get you upstairs to the suite I have reserved tonight.” Peter stated the obvious, hoping it would go no further.

“Exactly. Don’t you ever think beyond the physical?”

“When it comes to you, Syd, I have to admit I find that rather difficult.” His voice was deliberately husky.

She laughed. “That figures. You’re male. I’m sure it can’t be helped.

Dessert arrived before Peter could defend himself against her claim. It was true that he had desired other women in his past, but it was different with Syd. She was always on his mind, and it wasn’t always sexual, although he often ended up on that path. Upon

Sydney’s moan of what could only be described as pure pleasure, Peter glanced up.

“Okay this proves my point, how am I supposed to be non-sexual when making noises like that forces my hand?” he disputed.

“How can I not make noises like this when this is pure heaven?” Sydney responded with satisfaction on her face. “Want some?” She offered her fork towards him.

“If I get some to go, will you stay in the suite?” He was desperate to hear her moan

for him.

“I don’t need any more.”

Peter looked down at his pie, forking a piece, trying to focus on the plate and not his disappointment.

“I’ll stay in the suite, though, to be with you,” she spoke softly.

As she reached her hand across the table to touch his, Peter had one thought.

I love her.

* * * *

The room was rustic in appearance. Sydney imagined Peter was comfortable here.

He seemed at ease. Of course, that might be because of the intimacies they were about to share. It suited him, this room where she would love him. Sydney stopped herself. She shouldn’t love him. She needed to protect her heart, not get it all wrapped up and then torn apart. What would her mother say about this? Probably nothing, although the “I told you so” would linger in the air.

She would love him tonight and then walk away. Peter turned around and faced her, breaking through her defenses with that welcoming smile. Sydney knew in that moment, she wouldn’t be able to walk away from him. Peter was already firmly planted in her heart. She should’ve noticed sooner, everything was different with him, including the sex.

It was intense, and Sydney craved more following each encounter.

Peter walked towards her. She was anticipating his touch before his hands followed the length of her arms and grasped them. Pulling her back towards the bed, he pulled her on top of him.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he asked. Peter took her jacket off and pulled her down to him.

“Only with you.”

“You smell fresh.”

“Like?”

“Like clean, and I want nothing more than to get you dirty.”

Sydney wanted nothing more either. He lifted the red silk camisole over her head.

She didn’t see where it landed. Peter brought his hands down and pebbled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. Sydney sighed in pleasure.

“Syd, I don’t want to move slow tonight.”

“Too bad.”

Peter let out a moan of frustration. She leaned down and kissed him and then slowly undid each button on his shirt. When Sydney ushered him up, she unbuttoned the cuffs as his tongue lathered her nipples. He nibbled on them. Sydney managed to get the shirt off and pushed him back on the bed. She began working the buckle on his pants, when she was about to give up and let him take over, it finally released. Sydney unbuttoned his pants and pulled the zipper down. His cock snuck out of his boxers. She felt herself getting damp. Sydney loved the feeling of Peter inside her and could hardly wait. The anticipation of him entering her moist flesh made her moan. Nothing felt more perfect.

She pushed his pants further down his legs, past his knees.

Sydney leaned down and licked just the tip of his cock. She could taste the pre-cum that formed; he wanted her. She glanced up at him to see his smoke colored eyes reflecting the same need. Sydney took the head into her mouth, running her tongue

around it in circles. Slowly, she worked her way down the shaft. It wasn’t possible to take in his entire length, but she would make the effort.

“Syd! Stop, I can’t wait.”

Sydney continued her onslaught until she felt his arms grab her and push her away.

She lifted her face.

“I’m sorry, but I really need to be inside you.”

Sydney stepped off the bed, removing her pants and thong. Before she could come back to him, Peter reached for his pants, getting the necessary foil packet. He gently escorted her back down and proceeded to kiss her. His fingers trailed past her breasts and stomach down to her pussy. She felt him touch her clit, before moving lower and delving a finger in.

“You are so wet.”

“I know. You did that to me.”

“You are so hot.”

“Again, you.”

Peter continued his sensuous assault with his fingers. He trailed kisses along her belly and moved his head lower. He needed to taste her. Peter smelled her scent; it was uniquely Sydney. He flicked his tongue over her hardened nub and then delved his tongue into her. She tasted like honey.

“Oh, Peter. Oohhmmmm.”

Peter continued to lap his tongue across her opening; he felt Sydney’s legs begin to shake as her climax approach. He rubbed her pleasure bead as he tongue lashed her. Her legs wrapped over his shoulders, and her hands pushed his head deeper.

“Oh, God, Peter!” She convulsed around his tongue, and Peter had never tasted anything as sweet as Sydney’s pleasure.

Peter shifted so he was on top, suited and ready to mount her. He was at her entrance, she was bucking up to try and let him in. But he was having none of it. He placed the head at her pussy and pushed in slightly.

“Peter, please, I want more.”

“Just wait.” His minimal movements back and forth caused Sydney to moan as she got wetter with each passing moment.

“Don’t buck, just enjoy it. I’m going to give it all to you,” Peter cooed.

“Please.”

“Say it again.” He moved further in her depths, teasing her, but still refusing her the full length of his shaft.

“Please,” she begged.

“Not please.”

Sydney was confused; what could he possibly want her to say? What could she say?

Then she knew, and realized she didn’t care what the consequences were. “I love you,”

she gasped.

Peter drove all the way into her. Sydney’s cry of delight echoed in the room. He was inside her. She moved her hips to meet his thrusts. She was close again. “Peter I…”

“I know, sweetie. Do it.”

As if his word was all she needed, another orgasm ripped through her body, and

Sydney clung to Peter, knowing it would never feel like this with another man.

“Say it. I need to hear you say it.” He moved again, bringing his hand between them

to coax her orgasm down.

“I love you.” That was the final straw. He threw back his head and cried out to the rafters.

Chapter 9

Peter heard his cell phone ringing. He opened his eyes. Two more rings, then it would stop. Peter had no desire to move; Syd was curled up next to him. He could feel her breasts against his side. Wonderful, those two. She was soft and warm, and she loved him. Sydney loved him! It was bad of him to force the confession out of her during lovemaking. Peter couldn’t seem to help himself. He wanted to hear the words. He wanted her to say it first and he should have confessed his own feelings but couldn’t get the words out. If possible, her words of love made him more wary. By getting Sydney’s admission when they made love, Peter wasn’t sure if it was her, or the mind-blowing sex talking.

His phone was ringing again. He started to sit up. Sydney let out a sigh. Peter instantly hardened. How could he not love her, when she affected him so? Peter pulled free of Sydney’s limbs wrapped around him. He planted his feet on the carpet, wiggling his toes in it. Stretching his arms over his head, he heard another sigh on the bed behind him. Pivoting his foot, he turned to face his temptress.

“Hi,” she said, blushing as she ducked under the covers, hiding her blatant gaze, no doubt.

“Hey.” He couldn’t help it. He leaned down and caught her lips in his. “I tried not to wake you.”

“I couldn’t help myself.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s not every day you see a full moon in the morning.” She ducked further under the covers.

“Cute. How long have you been waiting to say that?”

“Since your phone started ringing ten minutes ago.” She poked her head out and smiled.

“Anything else?”

“Come back to bed.”

“I’d love to, sweetie, but I better take this call.”

There was such disappointment in her expression, Peter couldn’t help himself, and he leaned down, kissed her and said, “I’ll be right back.”

He went to the living room to get his phone out of his jacket. Buzz called. What could he want at this hour? Peter would call Buzz later.

“Peter? Are you coming back to bed, or should I start getting dressed?” He could hear the teasing in her voice.

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Don’t get up!” He started running. Peter couldn’t afford to let her get dressed, not when he needed her.

“You’re coming already. I’m not sure if I should be flattered or hurt.”

“You minx, you knew what I meant.”

A sound suspiciously like a giggle came out of her pretty mouth.

Peter lay on his back and, grasping her hips, rolled her on top. “Ride me,” he said simply.

“A bit demanding aren’t you?” she responded.

“I can’t afford to mince words, when I want you badly.”

“Oh.” Her mouth was sexy in that little “O”; he leaned up and pulled her to him in a passionate kiss.

He felt her moisten against him as his aroused flesh pressed towards her opening.

“You feel so good.”

Sydney reached her hand down to feel him and a groan escaped his mouth. She touched him tenderly on the tip and rubbed her dampness along his length. It was excruciating. Peter fumbled as he got the condom out of its package and onto his aching member. Peter needed her now. As if she knew, Sydney placed her searing, wet sheath over his aching shaft and enveloped him in her passion-moistened depths. Slowly, she rode him. Her rhythm picked up, and she seemed lost in it. Her own need took over the dance as she feathered her fingers across his chest. Grasping his head, she kissed him with fervor; it was no doubt, her mark upon him. Sydney lifted her head up and as she raised herself, Peter leaned forward tugging a nipple into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the sensitive peak and felt her losing control. Pulling away, her breast released and she arched her back as she shuddered in waves over him. Peter felt Sydney’s release, and it overwhelmed him.

She fell forward, leaning over him, whispering in his ear as she tugged it with her teeth. “Your turn.”

That phrase broke through his senses. Peter needed Sydney in such a primal way, pulling out and pushing her off him. He changed positions so she faced downward on the bed, with her lovely ass up in the air. He could see her tender flesh glistening. Grasping her hips, he plunged into her depths and pulled out slowly. He drove into her with wildness and then retreated slowly. He watched her, as he repeated this technique a few more times. Sydney was enjoying Peter’s sweet torture and accepting his thrusts. Peter could feel her hand caressing him as he buried himself deep inside her. He took his hand and reached down to polish her pearl of passion. Sydney moaned, pushing her hips back towards him. Together they found the perfect rhythm. He could feel her tightening in anticipation. He moved quicker, and she met each plunge, faster and faster, until he felt her loins clasp him, and he abandoned himself to pleasure.

His phone rang, breaking the moment.

Peter dragged his body off of Sydney’s lushness and answered, “Hello.”

“Pete, this is Buzz. You been running boy? You sound winded.”

“Something like that.”

“Well, pull yourself together and pack your bags. I’m ready to close this deal today. I

want you on the next plane to Las Vegas!”

“No problem.” Peter clicked his phone shut, collapsed on the bed and sighed. “I’m sorry honey, we gotta go.”

* * * *

Peter retraced his conversation with Sydney that morning as he flew to Vegas. “I

don’t want to leave.”

“I’m sure you don’t.” She seemed saddened. “Well, it’s the thought that counts.”

“If thinking counts, Syd, I’ll be back in no time. When I think about you, I want you.”

She smiled.

“That was Buzz Caulfield. Do you remember me talking about him?” Peter asked.

“I think so. Texas oil guy and you’ve been kickin’ his butt in the air races.”

“I guess you remember.”

“I guess so.”

“Well, it looks like I’ll be closing a deal for him.”

“How long?”

“Three weeks.”

“Three weeks? How long does it take to close a stock deal?”

“That’ll only take a few days. I’m going to an air-show, too.”

“Oh, you just want to play first. Boys and their toys.” She was teasing him, the minx!

“I’ll be back.”

“I know.

“You’re not upset?”

“No. This is good.”

“It is?” Peter wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

“Yeah. It’ll give me time to think about this.” Sydney gestured her hand back and forth between them.

“What’s to think about?”

“What I want out of this relationship.”

“You need to think about that? I already know what I want.” Peter began running his hand along her thigh.

“Peter, everyone knows what you want.”

They made love again. He was going to miss her, Sydney was right. He needed to put this relationship in perspective, too.

* * * *

The 747 was landing. It was nice to sit back and let someone else do the flying for a change. Buzz was planning on meeting him on the ground in Las Vegas. They would head over to Area 51 for The Desert Fly-in and Air-show in the morning.

Peter greeted Buzz at baggage claim.

“Thanks for picking me up.

“Not a problem, my boy. I’m just glad we can wrap this up and get to what’s important.”

“Where are we headed exactly?”

“Over to some architectural firm, Lott of Design, it’s called. Seems some guy over there holds the last few shares of W.O.O.D.”

“Sounds familiar. What did you say his name was?” Peter felt a flicker of apprehension.

“Lance Lott.”

Peter stared at Buzz as he tried to process information on a name he’d only heard once before.

Chapter 10

Sydney was in her office when the phone rang. “Hello.”

“I’m looking for Sydney Wagner.”

“Speaking.”

“Miss Wagner, this is Tara Fields with the Fields and Lowe Agency.”

“Yes.”

“I just finished your novel

The Orange Sunset.”

Silence

“Miss Wagner, are you there?”

“Yes.” Her mouth was dry.

“I’d like to help you get your book published.”

Sydney mentally pinched herself. She must be dreaming. Sounding as calm as possible, she asked, “Who did you have in mind?”

“I have a few contacts in New York that I’d like to speak with. I like your original take on the historical—a roaring twenties twist. I’d like to stay in touch with you.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll overnight some company information and our basic contract. Look it over and let us know if we’ll be a good fit.”

“Okay.”

“I hope to hear from you soon.”

“Thanks. Goodbye.” Sydney placed her hands on her temples marveling at her Rain-

man like communication skills. “Ugh!” She rested her head on her desk.

“What’s wrong, sunshine?” Courtney’s voice was light and cheery; that was unusual, especially lately.

“Nothing. I just got a call from an agent interested in my work.”

“That’s great! So how come you look like your dog died.”

“It’s so overwhelming.”

“It’s what you want.”

“I know. Everything is happening so fast.”

“Define everything.”

“My book, the business, your baby, falling in love with Pet…”

“Wait a minute, did you say love?”

“Yes. At least, I think so. Court, no guy has ever made me feel like this. I think about him all the time. Like right now I want to call him and tell him this news so I can hear his excitement.”

“Wow.” Courtney sat down with a stunned expression on her face. “I didn’t think you’d ever fall in love.”

“Really?”

“Well, yeah. I mean with this emotional baggage we lug around, I figured it was hopeless.”

“It’s not,” Sydney bristled.

“Don’t get defensive. I meant it as a good thing.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“If you can fall in love, it gives me hope. It means I might be able to find Mr. Right, too. He is Mr. Right, isn’t he?’

“I like to think Peter fits the bill.”

“What about Lance?”

“I haven’t dealt with that yet. I’m not sure what to tell Lance.”

“The truth.”

“I don’t want to tell him.”

“Why? Afraid he might fight for you?”

“No. I don’t really see Lance doing that.”

“It would be a first if he did.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means the man has never given any effort towards you. You’re merely a convenience.”

“You sound like Gwen.”

“If Gwen knows anything, it’s men. She’s right.”

“I know. I don’t want to hurt his feelings.”

“Syd, Lance probably has feelings for you, but I doubt they’re as deep as you think.”

“I don’t want to lose his friendship.”

“If he’s your friend, he’ll stay your friend. The longer you procrastinate, the worse it’ll get.”

“Speaking of procrastination, have you told mom about the baby?”

“No.” Courtney was suddenly fascinated with the office flooring.

“To quote someone who's wise beyond her years, ‘the longer you—'“

“Okay, I get the idea.”

“You didn’t come in here to talk about my love life; what’s up?”

“I got my preliminary test results back.”

“And?”

“The baby is fine. The doctor was concerned about my stress levels, though.”

“Imagine that. Single motherhood is stressing you out.”

“Yeah.”

“You know, Court, whatever happens with Peter, I’ll still be here for you.”

“Thanks. Well, that was pretty much all I had. I better leave so you can call Lance.”

Courtney rose from the chair, walking towards the doorway.

“I hadn’t planned on calling him today.”

“Why not?” Without expecting an answer, she left Sydney to ponder the question alone.

Sydney reflected on all that occurred. Less than two weeks had passed since she had made her way to the

Passionate Prose

Writing Conference and pitched her book. Now, it was headed towards publishing. Courtney was going to be a mother. Sydney was in love.

It was too much to absorb. She needed to talk to Lance, to break things off with him. She hoped they could remain friends. She picked the phone back up and dialed his number.

“Lott of Design, may I help you?”

“Is Lance in?”

“May I ask who is calling?”

“It’s Sydney Wagner.”

“One moment, please.”

Sydney waited for him to pick up the line. This was probably a bad time to call him, at work, but she wanted to get this over with.

“Hello.”

“Lance, it's Sydney.”

“I’ve got a meeting waiting. Can I call you later?”

“It’s kind of important.”

“Spit it out then.” He sounded impatient.

“I’m seeing someone.”

“Is that all?”

“It’s a pretty big deal.”

“Okay.” He sounded distracted.

“I love him.”

Silence.

“Lance, did you hear me?”

“Sydney, I have to run. We’ll talk later.”

Sydney sat stunned with the phone still at her ear. Didn’t Lance get it? Their relationship was over or at least changed. She couldn’t fathom what he was thinking.

Chapter 11

Peter waited in a conference room for Mr. Lott to arrive. Lance Lott was real. He couldn’t be real. Peter didn’t want that to be true. Sydney had a boyfriend, and Peter was about to meet him. Could things get any worse?

“Peter, my boy, what’s wrong with you? Look like you ate a bug.”

“Sorry, Buzz. Must be that airline food.”

“Dammit, boy, you know better than to eat that chicken-liver-in-a-box. Get it under control. I don’t want your lunch all over the table. Unless this meeting goes south, then feel free to let the cavalry out.” Buzz slapped him on the back, chuckling.

“Not a problem.”

“Good.”

Just then, the door opened and a woman similar in appearance to his own secretary popped her head in. “I’m sorry, gentlemen. Mr. Lott has a phone call. He’ll be with you shortly.”

“Sure thing, missy.” Thank God Buzz answered.

Peter’s mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. Who was this Lance talking to?

Sydney? Peter’s stomach turned. Why didn’t he believe her? Why hadn’t she mentioned it again? Sydney might think he was a Casanova, but Peter would never poach on someone else’s lady. He was sick with guilt over seducing Sydney.

He was lost when the door opened revealing his nemesis.

“Good morning, gentlemen. I’m Lance. My apologies for the delay.”

As they exchanged pleasantries, Peter took in Lance’s height, build, black hair and blue eyes, understanding what attracted Sydney to this man. He imagined Sydney in this man’s arms and felt immediately jealous. He needed to calm down if he was going to make it through this exchange.

“Lance Lott, that’s an unusual name.” Peter’s voice was courteous but patronizing.

“Yes. My mother has an unusual sense of humor.” Lance replied undisturbed.

“That phone call … was that about the stock?” he persisted.

“No, it was personal.”

“I hope everything is all right.”

“Everything is fine.”

Buzz’s own voice broke in, “Excellent. Let’s get this show on the road.”

Somehow, Peter made it through next half-hour of negotiations. At the end of it, Buzz slapped him on the back, congratulating him on a job well done. He could hardly believe it himself. He had to call Sydney. He needed to find out what was going on.

“Buzz, I’ll meet you back at the hotel. We’ll have dinner and head to Area 51 in the morning.”

“That sounds fine. I’ll be buying you dinner tonight.”

When Buzz left, Peter flipped open his phone and made the call to Sydney.

“Starving Artist, Courtney speaking.”

“Is Sydney there?”

“No, she’s out for the day. May I ask who’s calling?”

“This is Peter.”

“Should I have her call you back?”

“No. I’ll call her tomorrow. Thanks.” That was a good idea. He would sleep on this and call her in the morning. It would be a new day, and Peter could look on this with a fresh perspective.

* * * *

The air show was huge, filled with old war birds, prop-planes and even some of the spacecrafts being built privately in the aviation industry. Apparently, Greg Kitan was giving a seminar on his recent flight attempt into space.

Peter was already feeling better. It was probably best that he hadn’t spoken with

Sydney the day before. He was upset, then. Tonight would be the perfect time to straighten things out and maybe have a little make-up phone sex. Okay, maybe it wasn’t exactly make-up sex, since Sydney didn’t know he was upset. He liked the idea of a little phone play with her. His mood, among other parts, was already lifting.

Peter headed towards the war birds. They were his personal favorite, not surprising, since he owned a P-51 Mustang himself. As he walked through, he was looking at all the nose-art.

“Peter, my boy, over here!” Buzz shouted from across the field, “You have got to have yourself a look at this art.”

Oh, brother.

If there was a type of nose-art that Buzz admired, it always involved the female form. Peter made his way through the crowd of people and ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach. He finally arrived at the plane Buzz was gawking at. “Yeah?”

“Look at those titties!” Buzz spoke with admiration, staring into heaven.

Peter moved his gaze up. Nothing could’ve prepared him for what he saw. His mouth went dry, his vocal chords locked up, and he couldn’t speak. He would’ve known that pinup anywhere. It was his pinup. Sydney Wagner was naked on the side of a war bird.

She never told him that she posed as a pinup. They talked about her writing, her business, and her dreams of getting published, but not this! She’d never once said, “I pose naked for planes.” How did she think she could keep this from him, a pilot!?

“What do you think, Peter, my boy?”

“I think they’re better in person.” He was numb.

“What’s that?”

“Don’t you know? That’s my latest bird.” His voice was cold.

“Well, I’ll be dammed. You are one lucky bastard, you know that?”

“I wish I could agree with you.”

* * * *

Sydney sat reading her manuscript and waiting by the phone. She missed Peter’s call yesterday. Today, she spent most of the day at the printer, getting flyers for the store and business cards for herself. It should’ve only been a half hour, but a systems failure on the copier took three hours to repair. Her whole day went wrong. Courtney told their mother, Valerie, about the baby. Valerie handled it in stride, with minimal cursing. Sydney was there for support, just as she had promised. It was one more obstacle down. When her phone finally rang, she couldn’t wait to answer it; here was her rainbow.

“Hello?”

“Sydney.”

“Peter?”

“Yeah.” His voice sounded tired.

“Sounds like you had a rough day, too.”

“Yeah.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really, but I have to, since it involves you.”

“Really?”

“Actually, let’s not talk about it. Let’s just say that I won’t be seeing you when I get back.” He said it in a nasty tone.

“What?” She couldn’t calm the chill settling across her skin.

“You heard me. I don’t want to see you.”

“Why?”

“Why!?” His laugh was raw. “I’ll give you two reasons.”

“Which are?” She was getting irritated. She imagined two redheads, two blondes, a blonde and a redhead…

“You know.” The slur in his voice told her he’d been drinking.

“Are you drunk?”

“That’s not the point.”

“What is the point?”

“The point is that I met your boyfriend.”

“My boy…”

“That’s right. I met your knight, Mr. Lance Lott.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” She tried to sound calm, even though her heart was beating frantically.

“It doesn’t matter. I still have reason number two.”

“Which is?”

“I know about you.”

“What do you know?”

“I’ve seen you naked.”

“Peter, you’re not making any sense.”

“I saw your tits on the side of a plane!” He blurted out.

She was irked by his crude statement.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to see the woman of your dreams on the side of a plane for the entire world to see? Why didn’t you tell me? Did you think I wouldn’t find out? How could you keep this from me?”

“Peter, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you. Honestly, I didn’t think it would matter. I

mean, you’d dated Playboy models, for Gods’ sake. I didn’t see a difference.”

“You want to know the difference! I’ll tell you! I never loved any of them.”

“You love me?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“I wish to hell I didn’t.”

“Peter, this shouldn’t matter.”

“I’m sorry, Sydney. You have no idea the roller coaster I’ve been on the last few days. I can’t handle these secrets you’ve kept.”

“Peter I…”

“I don’t want to see you when I get back. Goodbye.”

Sydney heard the click. It was ironic that he would sound sober in his last statement.

Raw and primitive grief overtook her. She didn’t know what to do or where to turn.

Sydney simply hung her head and let the tears fall.

Chapter 12

Fortunately, the next few weeks were busy. She signed a contract with Field and

Lowe, her new agents. She started going to Lamaze classes with Courtney, another night to fill up her schedule. She took a few days working behind the deli-counter at lunch.

Sydney hardly thought about Peter, except at night, when she felt alone and unloved. She wished Peter hadn’t told her he loved her. The whole situation was unbearable and unjust.

If he hadn’t admitted his feelings, it would be easier. She wouldn’t have known and she wouldn’t feel such a tremendous sense of loss.

Sydney was working the deli-counter over the lunch hour when a call came in.

“Syd. Telephone!” Karen, the new pastry chef, called out.

“Can you take a message?”

“It’s Valerie, she says it’s important.”

“Take a message!” Sydney was in no mood to deal with her mother.

Sydney just finished up with a customer when Karen walked up to her. “Syd, you need to go. You’re sister is in the hospital.”

* * * *

Peter woke up with a headache. He shouldn’t have gone out drinking last night.

Those tequila shots did him in. Buzz Caulfield easily intimidated others, but that wasn’t why. Peter knew why. It was to forget Sydney Wagner. He had arrived back in North

Dakota two days ago and still wasn’t sober. Actually, he hadn’t been sober since he broke up with her nearly two weeks ago; something Buzz felt the need to remind him of last night.

“Pete, why are you doing this to yourself?”

“Doing what? I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. You’re actin’ like an ass!”

“Shut-up, Buzz.” He was in no mood to be lectured, but that didn’t stop Buzz.

“I will not. I’ve never seen you so torn up by a woman, and you’ve dated a few through the years.”

“And I’ll date some more, too.”

“Not like her, I bet. Hell, you only knew her a few weeks, and look how she's got you acting.”

Peter didn’t know what to say. It was true. He would never meet anyone like Sydney again.

“My boy, you need to think long and hard about letting this pretty filly loose, or someone else will come along and brand her.”

“Too late, Buzz. I opened the stall and kicked her out.” He hung his head down.

“What in tarnation were you thinking? She was the prettiest thing I ever saw.”

“You and everyone else.”

“So that’s the burr under your saddle.”

“It’s a pretty big one, Buzz.”

“And you’re gonna let that stop you?” Buzz shook his head.

He let it stop him. That and Lance Lott. The man was too pretty for his own good.

Peter spent the last few days mourning his loss of Sydney. She said they weren’t dating, but Peter envisioned Sydney running back to Lance, after the way he mistreated her.

Peter told himself she was better off without him. His moment of distrust and hasty judgment kept him from accepting her past until it was too late.

Peter peered around the room, realizing he’d never made love with Sydney in his own room. He could only imagine how the memories would haunt him, like others did.

He missed her. When he sobered up, Peter missed her horribly and with such longing his heart ached. Loving Sydney and not being with her was agony.

I can’t let her go

. His mind echoed with such ferocity that he knew it was the answer.

Don’t let her go.

Peter rose from the bed with renewed vision. He would beg Sydney’s forgiveness and somehow win her back. Failure wasn’t an option. He could not spend his days drinking her memory into oblivion.

Peter arrived at The Starving Artist in 30 minutes flat. He had rushed through his shower and the drive. Upon arriving, he rapidly made his way to the deli counter.

“Is Sydney Wagner in?”

“She’ll be out for awhile.”

“Can you tell me where she went? It’s important.”

“Is this about the baby, because Sydney just went to the hospital?”

Baby, what baby?

“Which Hospital?” He tried to sound composed.

“Saint Luke's.”

“Thank you.” Peter walked quickly to his car. He had no idea there was a baby! Of course, he wouldn’t since he was a total ass, giving Sydney the boot. He tried doing math in his head but found it difficult. Peter remembered the night he broke it off with her. Did she know then? His poor Sydney suffered his insults and was all alone these past weeks.

Peter was wracked with guilt; he needed to make this right. He just didn’t know how.

Peter managed to drive to the hospital without incident. He proceeded towards the front desk with speed and determination.

“Can you tell me what floor maternity is on?” He smiled hoping to get past the defenses of the receptionist.

“I’m sorry sir, no visitors on that floor.”

“I’m not a visitor. My girlfriend is here. I came as fast as I could.” He sounded impatient. “Last name is Wagner.”

“Oh. Wagner, let me see.”

He drummed his fingers waiting.

“Ah, here it is. Wagner. Room six-o-one.”

* * * *

Sydney paced in the family room, waiting to hear on Courtney’s condition. She caught a familiar stride out of the corner of the doorway, making his way determinedly down the hall.

“Peter.”

“Syd!” He looked older as he came rushing over to envelop her in his arms.

“What are you doing here?”

“The lady at your store told me I’d find you here. Syd, I know about the baby. Are

you all right?”

“The baby, wait a minute. You came here because of the baby?” She wriggled free of his grip.

“Your baby.”

“And yours?” Sydney spat out the words contemptuously

“I wasn’t sure. Is it?”

“No.”

“Oh.” He felt a pang of disappointment

“Peter, there is no baby.”

“Oh, Syd, I’m so sorry.” He tried to hold her again.

“No, Peter.” She walked across the room. “It’s not my baby. I came because my sister, Courtney, is in the hospital. She’s pregnant.”

“Is she okay?”

“I’m not sure. We’re waiting to hear.”

“We?” Peter squinted peering around the room for Lance.

“My mom and brother are around here somewhere.”

“Syd I…”

“Peter.” She put up her hand, “You can go home. Rest assured no one here is having your baby, at least not that I know of.”

“I deserved that.”

“Damn right you did! You have no right coming here.” She lowered her tone after a few glares from passing nurses.

“Do you know why I’m here?”

“Frankly, I don’t give a damn.”

“Don’t be dramatic; I came here to say I’m sorry.”

“Fine. You’ve said it. You can go now.”

“Syd, I love you.”

“I remember. Apparently, that wasn’t enough to make up for all my dirty little secrets.”

“I don’t care about your secrets. I want you back. I’ve been miserable without you.”

Peter’s voice cracked. Sydney saw her own pain, longing and hope reflected in his silver eyes.

“Oh, Peter.” She closed the distance between them. To feel his arms around her was like coming home.

“You don’t know how much I missed holding you.”

“I thought it was hopeless. I broke up with Lance the day before you called, but, truthfully, it’s been over for months.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

His silence compelled her to speak. “We were never more than friends. I never had a reason to let him go, until I met you.”

“Syd, you can’t imagine the relief that brings. I was afraid I made you stray.”

“In a way, you did, but not from Lance, just from my own fear. I’m happy to leave that behind.”

“Fear?”

“Fear of having my heart broken, if I fell in love, and it didn’t work out.”

Peter realized her fear became a reality the night he cast her off. “Syd, I’m sorry I put you through this.”

“It’s okay.” She brushed her hands over his face, hoping to wipe away the pain. “I

survived, and it was worth the risk.”

“I sense a 'but' coming on.”

“Peter, there’s nothing I can do about the pinup thing. Courtney contracted the pictures years ago. We used the money to build The Starving Artist. I wasn’t aware I was on planes.”

“Just the one contract, right?”

“Yes. How did you know there was only one?”

“I bought the pictures and the plane from a Dr. Gideon Roberts.”

“All of them?”

“Yep.”

“And the plane?”

“Yep.”

“Were you jealous?” Sydney asked

“No.”

She gave him a “yeah-right” look.

“Okay, maybe a little. I wanted this pinup all to myself.”

It sounded possessive, but Sydney didn’t care.

“Syd, I love you.” He bent his head.

“I love you, too” She wound her arms around Peter as he kissed her

The End

About the Author:

Tina Holland was born in Frankfurt, Germany and is a self-proclaimed military brat.

Her interests include horse-back riding, camping and traveling. She currently resides in

North Dakota with her husband on their ever-expanding hobby farm.

Meet LSB Authors At Silver Net, Aka The

House Of Sin Http://Lsbooks.NET

We invite you to visit Liquid Silver Books http://LSbooks.com for other exciting erotic romances.

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