Love in the Air (3 page)

Kay’s slender arms clasped him tightly as she gloried in the exquisite delight of Sullivan’s warm, hair-roughened chest touching her aching, swelling breasts. Automatically arching her back to press closer, she sighed and turned her face into his brown throat, inhaling deeply of his clean, masculine scent. While every part of her body glowed with delicious rising heat, Sullivan cradled her head in his hand and again took her mouth with his own.

In his kiss was all his love, all his passion, all his hunger. Kay reeled with the intensity of emotions he’d unleashed in her as well as himself. His kiss was hungry, demanding, devastating, and when their lips and tongues finally separated, his breath was labored, his bare chest heaving, his sultry eyes almost wild. Decisively, he pushed her slowly down across the bed, following her. Kay could feel the soft fabric of the bedspread beneath her naked back. Sullivan’s hard, handsome face was looking down at her. His weight supported on an elbow, he was leaning over her and saying things he’d never said to her before.

“My God,” he mused honestly, “have you any idea how long I’ve wanted to see you like this, to look at you?” A hand was at her breast, gently caressing, a thumb circling the hard peak.

“Sul,” she whispered, her fingers happily exploring the hard muscled chest above her, “I’ve wanted this, too, I’ve—”

Her sentence wasn’t finished. His lips were on hers again, nibbling, playing, tasting, while his broad chest pressed heavily down on her naked breasts. Kay’s hands were in the thick, dark hair of his head while her open mouth twisted under his and her tingling torso rubbed unashamedly on him. When a hand slipped from Kay’s narrow waist and down over the folds of her white cotton skirt, Kay made no move to stop him. Nor did she protest when that hand slid underneath her skirt and moved with slow determination up a smooth thigh.

Kay wasn’t quite certain how or when those practiced, persuasive hands managed to divest her of her lacy panties, but she fleetingly recalled them slipping over her hips, down her legs and fluttering through the air.

It was the last time she thought of her panties.

That warm male hand was again moving up a trembling thigh and a deep, drugging voice so familiarly dear was murmuring close to her face, “I have to touch you, Kay. I have to, honey. I won’t hurt you, I’d never hurt you.”

“Yes,” was all she could manage, as those long, lean fingers moved unerringly to that sensitive feminine flesh where no man’s hands had ever been before. “Yes, yes,” she whispered through fevered lips, her blue eyes widening with a new and unbelievable pleasure.

His eyes upon her sweet, flushed face, Sullivan stroked her gently, coaxingly. She writhed and clung to him and looked up with eyes both frightened and happy.

“There, sweetness,” he soothed softly, staying with her, tenderly caressing, patiently tutoring her, bringing her pleasure, possessively introducing her to the secrets of her beautiful body. While she tossed her head back and forth and murmured his name in wonder and fear, Sullivan continued to take her slowly. He caringly brought her toward release while the heart in his bare chest thudded with a heavy cadence and his tight jeans strained with the fullness of his aching arousal.

Finally her zenith began and Kay’s blue, shining eyes widened with shocked surprise. She clung to Sullivan’s bare wide shoulders so tightly her long nails cut into his flesh. He smiled down at her, his hand continuing rhythmically to stroke, his voice, deep and soft, saying lovingly, “Yes, my baby, I’m here. I won’t let you go.”

When she lay at last limp in Sullivan’s protective arms, Kay willingly let him finish undressing her. Moments later they were both naked upon the bed that Sullivan had turned down. With half emptied glasses of champagne beside them on the bedside table, soft music coming from the radio and the scent of roses sweetening the air, they completed the act of lovemaking upon sheets of ice blue. Kay knew as Sullivan lowered his sleek, bare body onto hers that the brief pain of his penetration would pale beside the pain of leaving him.

And she was right.

Kay blinked at the tears that had begun to slide down her cheeks. How right she had been on that long-ago night to realize leaving Sullivan would cause great pain. Pain for her. Pain for him.

Still she had recklessly walked away, telling herself it was really all his fault. He hadn’t asked her to stay. Hadn’t told her to stay. If he had, she would have snuggled happily into his strong arms and said worshipfully, “Yes, I’ll stay. I want only to be with you. I love you.”

Kay threw back the silky blue sheets and got up. Sighing wearily, she walked to the window and stood staring out at the twinkling Denver lights. Lights distorted by her tear-blurred vision.

The truth was painful, but it was time she faced it.

It was her fault. Nobody else’s. She had been head-over-heels in love with Sullivan Ward, but she was so young and so foolish. She had sacrificed what they had together for a glamorous, high-paying radio job in L.A. And through all these years of regretting her foolish choice, and longing for all that she had lost, she had soothed her wounded heart by telling herself it was as much Sullivan’s fault as her own.

That simply was not true.

She, of her own free will, had walked out on the most magnificent man she would ever meet, sacrificing a precious once-in-a-lifetime love to chase youthful dreams of fame and glory. She was responsible for their breakup. Her career had meant more to her than Sul.

“Dear God, what a little fool I was,” murmured Kay tearfully to the loneliness of the room where once she had known the ecstasy of Sullivan’s arms. “If I had it all to do over again…”

Tiredly, Kay went back to the big blue bed. Exhaustion soon blessedly overtook her and in minutes she was asleep.

Kay was awakened the next morning by brilliant September sunshine streaming into the room. Pushing her long, sleep-tousled hair out of her eyes, she pushed a pillow against the headboard and sat up. Sleepy blue eyes glanced to the night table beside her with its built-in radio below. Kay reached out and flipped the on button, filling the room with music. She leaned over, squinting, and smiled. The radio was tuned to Q102. Sullivan’s morning show. Any second now the record would end.

“That was the old Gloria Gaynor hit ‘I Will Survive.’” The deep unmistakable voice so affected Kay that she realized she was holding her breath. “Isn’t that a good song?” Sullivan asked his audience, his deep melodious voice like warm, smooth honey. Kay sank back against the pillows and commanded her pulse to slow down. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back and listened while that deep, naturally sensual voice effortlessly drew her to him, just as it did his other listeners. He was the best she’d ever heard. There’d been no one on the west coast to compare with this talented man. She’d like to tell him that when they met again, but she had a feeling Sullivan would no longer care what she thought of him.

By ten o’clock, Kay, dressed in a tailored suit of beige poplin with a wide multicolored belt adding a splash of color, walked through the glass double doors of radio station Q102, high atop the Petroleum Club building in downtown Denver. A fresh-faced young woman with hair of auburn and big green eyes looked up, smiled and said almost worshipfully, “You have to be Kay Clark!” The woman jumped up from her chair, pressing her palms to her coloring cheeks. “I’m Sherry Jones and I’ve heard so much about you, Ms. Clark. Why, it’s like having a movie star in the station. I want your autograph; I just have to…”

Shaking her head, Kay laughed good-naturedly. “Sherry, I’m flattered, but I’m hardly a star. Is Mr. Shults busy?”

“Follow me, Ms. Clark.” Sherry was smiling happily. “Gosh, you’re so pretty. You and Sullivan will make a pair. He’s so handsome, you know.”

“Yes.” Kay nodded. “I know.”

Kay followed the friendly young woman into Sam Shults’s big office. “She’s here,” Sherry announced to the stocky man rising from behind his heavy oak desk. “Shall I bring coffee?”

“Morning, Kay.” Sam Shults came to meet her. “Kay doesn’t drink coffee, Sherry.”

Sherry bobbed her auburn head. Grinning, she clasped her hands in front of her, rooted to the spot, staring at Kay. “Would you like to go to lunch with me, Ms. Clark?” Sherry ventured hopefully.

“Sherry—” Sam Shults put on his gruff voice “—I see five lights blinking on the switchboard. Think you could tear yourself away to go back out to your desk and answer a few calls?”

“Oh, sorry, Mr. Shults.” The impressionable young woman backed away, lifting a hand to wave goodbye to Kay. “We usually eat over at Leo’s, Kay, so—”

“Sherry!” Sam Shults pointed to the door. She hunched her shoulders, winked at Kay and scooted out the door. “Now,” Sam said when he and Kay were alone, “have a seat and let’s go over a few things.”

“Sam,” Kay said, taking the leather chair across from her old boss, “will you level with me?”

“Why, Kay, haven’t I always?” He looked puzzled. Dropping back down into his padded chair, he laced his stubby fingers together atop his desk. “What’s on your mind? I thought we settled on your salary.”

Kay lifted a slender hand in the air. “I’m not concerned about the salary; it’s plenty generous. I’m concerned about Sullivan Ward.” She looked directly into Sam Shults’s soft brown eyes.

His beefy shoulders slumped. “Kay, what can I tell you? We both know that—”

“Sullivan doesn’t want me here. Is that it?”

Sam Shults, reluctant to meet her gaze, sighed. “Kay, Sullivan is a pro. When you’re on the air together, he’ll be just like he was before.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Sam.”

“I’m the general manager of Q102. I have to decide what is best for this station without a great deal of regard to personal feelings.”

Kay smiled sadly. “You just answered my question.”

Sam Shults smiled with her. “I guess I did. Honey, you and Sullivan will just have to work out any personality problems. I care about one thing—audience.”

“Why, Sammy, you’re as sentimental as ever,” Kay kidded.

“Yeah—” Sam Shults reddened “—that’s what Betty tells me.”

After half an hour Sam said, “That about does it, I believe. If you’ve nothing further to ask, I’ll turn you over to Sullivan.” He looked at her questioningly and rose.

Kay stood up. “Do you suppose Daniel was just a bit nervous when he was tossed into the lion’s den?”

Sam grinned at her. “In this case, I’ve a feeling the lion is just as jittery.”

He was tall and slim and graceful. His hair was shiny black except for a sprinkling of silver streaking his temples. His face looked a little leaner, harder and more handsome than ever. Lazy-lidded dark eyes were looking at her and Kay felt unaccountably warm despite the coldness of his gaze. The full male mouth was stretched into a welcoming smile that didn’t extend to his eyes.

His shoulders, wider than she’d remembered, were unnaturally rigid, and his broad chest was noticeably rising and falling beneath a shirt of pale-blue cotton. Crisp, black hair curled appealingly from the open throat and upon dark forearms revealed by rolled-up sleeves. Hard-finish black trousers draped perfectly over narrow hips and closely fitted the sinewy thighs and long legs.

At thirty-six years old, Sullivan Ward was at the peak of his rugged masculine appeal. Kay stared at him in awe. And in fear. His icy, handsome face told her what she’d suspected. He didn’t want her here. He was sorry she’d returned, and Kay had the uneasy feeling he planned to make her sorry, too.

Coolly assessing her, Sullivan finally nodded his dark head and said evenly, “Ms. Clark.”

“Mr. Ward,” Kay returned flatly.

Sam Shults, shaking his head, said, “I’ll leave it with you. I’ve got work to do.” Neither Kay nor Sullivan responded. They never noticed when he left.

A deafening silence filled the corner office after Sam’s departure. Like wary jungle cats, the two continued to silently size each other up, standing across from one another. Hands sliding deep into his pockets, Sullivan let his gaze leisurely glide over the small blond beauty looking at him.

The muscles of his stomach knotting painfully, Sullivan tried to keep his true emotions hidden. In truth, every natural impulse was to reach out and touch the glorious silvery hair, shining like a halo in the morning sun. His teeth clamped firmly together, his hands were clenching inside his pockets. How he longed to jerk the pins from her hair and let it spill down around her shoulders the way he liked it.

Those brilliant blue eyes were looking at him with that same wide-eyed innocence that had so devastated him before, and the perfect little turned-up nose was still adorable. The sweet mouth, even firmly compressed as it was now, had that soft, succulent look that made him want to pull her to him and kiss her senseless.

She was dressed more severely than when he’d last seen her. The tailored suit only hinted at the curves he knew were underneath. A muscle flexed in his jaw as his gaze slid over her high breasts, her narrow waist, her rounded hips. The desk between them hid those long, tanned legs from his view, but he had the distinct impression that she now wore hose, unlike the natural bare-legged girl of old. But now she was no girl. She was a sophisticated, twenty-four-year-old woman. And, God help him, she was more desirable than ever.

Slowly turning his back to Kay, he appeared to be peering out the window. In fact, his dark eyes were closed. To the majesty of the Rockies spread out before his shut eyes, he said, “Kay, have a chair.”

Without answering, Kay took a seat, her eyes never leaving the raven-haired man with his back to her. Crossing her legs, Kay tugged at the tight skirt of her beige suit and pleaded with her heart to slow its furious beating.

Sullivan turned around.

The intensity had left the black eyes, but the coldness had not. “There’s a few things we’ll need to discuss.” His tone was low, conversational, as he picked up a pack of cigarettes from atop his cluttered desk, then searched for a match. The gold lighter she’d given him on that last Christmas they spent together was nowhere in sight. Kay was not surprised.