A Man to Remember (24 page)

When they had loaded everything, Jake and James settled in the backseat of the imposing black Lincoln with its government license plates. James inspected his old friend closely. "You okay, Jake? You look a little ragged."

"Yeah, sure. Just a little tired, that's all."

"Well, this should help." James dug into his coat pocket and handed Jake a sizable check. "With this you can afford to take an extended vacation. A real one." He chuckled. "You're a hell of a man, Jake. I wish you'd join the force again."

Jake shook his head and accepted the check. "This was enough excitement to last me a long time. Maybe I'll buy a castle in France."

"Suit yourself." James sighed. "But if it were me, I'd take a beautiful woman to a secluded beach in the Caribbean."

Jake's eyes glazed as he remembered a beautiful woman on a secluded beach in Mexico. . . .

Alyse couldn't get Jake out of her mind. She'd been back more than a week now and hadn't heard a word from him. Not that she expected to. Not really. His position had been clearly stated. They were better off apart. What they had in Mexico was merely a memory. A wonderful memory of what love might have been, of sexy days in the sun; of romantic nights; of sailing away with a golden man... a man to remember and dream about.

She paused and checked her image in the office hall mirror. Her rich brunette hair had been trimmed and professionally conditioned since the Mexican voyage. She wore it sleek and smooth to her shoulders. No longer was it tousled and windblown. Her eyes were still the same bright blue. Only sadder now. Maybe it wasn't noticeable. Her skin was tanned to a pale golden, attributed to the Mexican sun and wind.

Friends commented on her tan and assumed that the trip to the Baja was good. She didn't tell them how good.

Living without Jake in her life was painful, and she could do nothing about it. He was right. They had been two very dissimilar people, each living out a fantasy in Mexico. Real life was different. A mysterious, risk-taking man just couldn't make it with a wealthy, overly protected woman.

Her brother, Greg, had returned from Switzerland with his usual domineering attitude. "At least you got something out of that trip to Mexico—a good tan. Now I expect you to pay for fixing my damn boat!"

Alyse had assumed full responsibility for the damage to the Skye Command and paid for its repair from her own account without complaint. She hadn't even bothered to notify the insurance company. It would become too complicated to try to explain gunshots in the hull.

And since she was totally devoted to protecting Jake, she wouldn't reveal anything about her trip.

She would have to savor him in her heart, hold him dear in her memory. But in all the time they were together, there had been no promise, no indication they'd ever see each other again. No avowal of love. Only hers. Jake Bronson was a strong man, a golden cowboy with a mysterious energy, a man who'd loved her briefly and left her. He was not to remain in her life, only a man to remember.

She blinked away his memory and focused on her "dressed for success" image. Today she wore a navy suit, ecru blouse, and navy closed-toe pumps. She was on her way to see the chairman of the board, and that take-charge look was required, as the only daughter of the chairman.

Alyse stepped back from the gilt-edged mirror, her heels sinking into the plush carpet. Who else but Raymond Skye would have company offices that resembled the interior of a palatial estate? But that was in keeping with the elegance of Skye Castle hotels. Come to a Skye Castle and enter a palace of luxury.

She gripped the brass knob of the stately mahogany door and smiled perfunctorily as she breezed through the outer office. She passed her own desk and opened the unmarked door at the end of the room.

"Good morning, Rachael."

The attractive graying woman looked up from her expansive desk. Rachael Peabody had been her father's secretary for as long as Alyse could remember.

"Good morning, Alyse. Did you have a nice vacation in Mexico?"

"Yes, thank you."

Rachael stood and handed Alyse some papers. "Most of your pertinent mail is on your desk, but here are a few pieces that just came yesterday. I didn't open this one because it was marked 'personal.' "

Alyse's head snapped up and she snatched the envelope. The postmark had been stamped in El Paso! With slightly shaky fingers she ripped it open.

A check fell into her hand along with a brief note. Her heart pounded as she read: "Alyse, the enclosed check should cover damage to the yacht. Thanks to you, the mission was a success. Follow your dreams, wherever they lead. I'll always remember you. Jake."

That's it? "I'll always remember you?" Alyse wanted to scream. Her hand clenched into a tight fist, wadding up the letter in the process. She dropped the crumpled heap into a wastebasket.

So that's it. That's all he had to say about the times—both dangerous and wonderful—they had shared? That's it? Been nice knowing you, kid. We have a beautiful memory. So long.

Alyse reeled inside.

"Alyse? You okay, honey?"

"Oh, yes, Rachael. Sure." She ripped the check into pieces and dropped it into the wastebasket too. "This wasn't very important. My father's expecting me. How do I look?" She smoothed her skirt.

"You look very professional, as usual. But he isn't here, Alyse," Rachael said with an apologetic tone. Part of her job had always been to make excuses for the chairman and keep everyone, even his family, at bay. She'd done it for years.

Alyse felt anger build in her chest. "But I had an appointment with him today."

"Sorry, honey, but something urgent came up. He had to go out of town on very important business."

"What's more important than seeing your own daughter after—oh, never mind Rachael. It isn't your fault."

Rachael smiled hopefully. "He regretted missing you and sends apologies for canceling at the last minute like this. He left a message for you on tape. Come on into his office, and I'll turn it on for you."

"Oh, great. A message from Father. How sweet and thoughtful. How efficient," Alyse drawled as she followed Rachael into her father's sumptuous office. So elegant, it was almost obscene. Living proof of his rags to riches success.

Rachael flicked a few buttons, and Raymond Skye's voice boomed out. Even on tape his energy filled the room. "Hi, baby! Glad you're through playing around in Mexico and back at work. I hear you and Evan had a little misunderstanding. Well, we can discuss it later. First I want you to travel up the coast and take care of a problem in the kitchen at Carmel Castle. Something between the cook and headwaiter —"

Blah . . . blah . . . blah.

Rachael slipped out, and Alyse walked around the room while her father rolled off projects for her. Usually she took notes on what he had to say, but today she just listened. And the words became background sounds, like elevator music. She studied the clusters of photos showing her father with mayors, governors, senators, even one with the U.S President. Oh, yes, Raymond Skye believed in associating with the upper crust. That's what his castles were all about.

"After you straighten out things at Carmel and San Francisco, go on to Seattle. They're having trouble with peeling wallpaper. You may need to have that portion completely redecorated. Then, as soon as you can break away, I'd like you to join me in North Carolina. It's always been my dream to line both coasts with Skye Castles, and I'm damned close to accomplishing my dream. It's very exciting."

Alyse froze. She listened to her father's words as he elaborated on his newest project, a fulfillment of his dreams on the East Coast. His dream, not hers . . .

It hit her squarely that every day she was working on her father's dreams, his dreams, not her own. She had always been dedicated to Raymond Skye's dreams. To hell with hers.

What were her dreams anyway? No one, except Jake Bronson, had ever even asked. And she had strangely never considered anything other than her well-made life. Well hell, what did she really want to do? Troubleshoot to improve on Father's dream, to keep his damned castles running smoothly?

No!

She had very different dreams. In her whole life she'd revealed those dreams to only one person, Jake Bronson. He was the only one who cared enough to ask, which was more than her family had ever done. Shouldn't she care enough about herself now to act on her own dreams? Go for her own destiny!

She pushed a few buttons on the recording machine and spoke briefly and succinctly, leaving her resignation. Then she turned and walked out. At Rachael's desk Alyse paused. "I left a message for Father on the machine. Tell him not to worry, Rachael. I'll be in touch as soon as I can. I'm going after my own dreams."

Rachael stared, confused and dumbfounded, as Alyse sailed out of the elegant mahogany-paneled offices of Skye Castles, Inc.

Two weeks later, she walked into Bronson Boots in El Paso. Dressed to the teeth in western wear – ostrich boots with star cutouts, a fringed leather mini-skirt, a suede vest top, a turquoise-inlaid belt, and a leather shoulder bag. She walked around the showroom until a man said, "Can I help you, Miss?'

She turned around and smiled at the stranger. "You must be Tate Garcia, Jake's business partner."

"Yes?"

"Did he tell you he was expecting me?"

"Uh, no Ma'am. But I'm sure we can accommodate you. What are you looking for?"

She hopped up on the counter and stuck out one booted foot toward his chest.  In a loud voice, she said, "I'm looking for the most expensive damn boots you make. And I want Jake Bronson to assist me."

Tate Garcia couldn't hide the surprise in his expression. "I'll see… uh, I think he's in his office."

"Oh, he is. I've been watching for him to return from Washington. I'm surprised he didn't warn you about me. I'm Alyse. We met in Mexico… "

"Okay."

A male voice boomed from the back doorway. "What's the problem here, Tate?"

Both Alyse and Tate looked up.

Jake Bronson filled the back doorway, arms akimbo. His blond hair was trimmed short, his beard only a shadow along his jutting jaw line, his golden tan aglow. He wore an open-necked shirt, an expensive western-cut jacket, and even more expensive cowboy boots. Alyse swallowed hard. He looked fantastic, even better than her memories.

Before poor Tate could answer, Alyse stood up on the counter and dove into Jake's arms. He swirled her around, laughing and kissing her from lips to boobs. She squealed with delight. Finally, he set her feet down on the floor. "I've been trying to reach you, but the Castle corporate office wouldn't let me through. What are you doing here?"

"Oh Jake, you had to ask. I'm following my dreams, of course. And they all involve you."

He laughed. "Funny thing, I've been dreaming about you, too, mostly at night." He turned to his business partner. "I think I'd better introduce you. Tate Garcia, this here little lady is Alyse Skye, of the Skye Castle resort chain."

"Not any more." She shook her finger at him. "I resigned. First step to following my dreams. Give up the secure day job."

Jake looked amazed but didn't comment.

She stepped forward and shook his partner's hand. "Tate, I'm so glad to meet you. I have some ideas for your new expansion project in San Antonio. And it starts with the showroom." She gestured around them. "This just will not do. Boots are uh… boring. And where is the women's line of boots?"

"Well," Tate looked at Jake. "We don't have many – "

"Okay, that's got to change. Women are the biggest buyers, remember. I'll be happy to design the new shop for you and consult on additional products, but it will have to come through my new business, Skye's the Limit. Which means, you'll have to pay for my services. Unless… we somehow figure out how to add a boutique, with specialty designed western clothes."

Tate blinked and looked at Jake. He was, at least, wise enough not to say a word.

"Alyse… " Jake began.

She placed her finger on her cheek and began to walk around. "I'm considering Bronson Boutique and Designer Boots, but would settle for Bronson Boots and Skye's the Limit Designer Boutique. Or maybe just Bronson Boots, Skye's the Limit."

Jake grabbed her and swung her up in his arms. "Let's go, Lady. We have some things to discuss, like the Bronson expansion project."

"Oh good, I thought you'd never ask! Y'know, I've always loved San Antonio." Alyse giggled and waved good-bye to Tate. "See ya' later!"

At the door, he stopped. "Alyse… "

"Jake… "

A long, smooth, wet kiss ended the conversation. From that moment, Alyse became a woman to love, and Jake would always be a man to remember. And love.

Bristol Bordeaux, badass babe. . .

She waited for him, now calm and sure.

The man came around the corner. He halted as if sensing she was there. Knowing without even seeing. Then his bulk lunged toward her. There was no time to think!   She had him…she had her man!

THE END

Enjoy a couple of Alyse and Jake's favorite dishes in Mexico.