Time After Time (17 page)

As soon as she found the numbers, she grabbed the phone and frantically dialed in the numbers. Before the first ring had finished, he answered.

"Yes," he said abruptly.

She closed her eyes, pressing her lips together tightly as she gripped the phone. She tried to speak, but no words would come.

"Leah?"

After a moment she whispered hoarsely, "Yes."

She heard his sharply indrawn breath. "I'm all right, baby. I promise you, I'm all right."

She nodded in a short, mechanical motion, then replaced the receiver and slumped down on the bed, deep, dry sobs shaking her slender shoulders.

She had no idea how much time had passed before she heard the knock on the front door. Pushing her tangled hair back, she dragged herself from the bed and walked into the living room.

When she opened the door, she stood and stared at him. Then her face twisted uncontrollably, and he pulled her into his arms, crushing her body against his. The tearing emotions had exhausted her strength. She felt only numbness as she leaned her head against his chest. Without speaking, Paul shut the door behind them and moved with her to the couch.

Holding her next to him, he rocked her back and forth, touching her hair with short, rough strokes. She pressed closer to the warm strength, rubbing her face against the hollow of his throat. After a while, when the strength of his nearness began to penetrate her terror, she felt some of the lingering horror slip away. But still she couldn't move. She wrapped her arms around his waist and held on to the only reality she knew at that moment.

Gradually she felt the world return to normal, and finally she moved away from him. His arms fell to his sides as he watched her.

"Thank you," she said huskily. "I feel better now. What an experience. I will never go to sleep again," she said, giving him a rueful smile. "I promise you, I will never go to sleep again." She shook her head. "I don't understand what happened. There wasn't a movie... I didn't even turn on the television tonight."

"No," he said slowly. "But I did."

She caught her breath. "You did this?" She met his eyes, her face filled with confusion. "Intentionally?"

"No—" He broke off, frowning slightly. "To be honest, I just don't know. I couldn't sleep, so I turned on the television. I don't even remember watching it. I'm certain it wasn't a conscious wish on my part. Maybe somewhere in the back of my mind I wanted to—" He shook his head. "Maybe I wanted to get on with the next step. I don't know. But I would never willingly seek this. I wouldn't put you through an experience like this."

"No—no, of course you wouldn't," she said. "It must have been just as upsetting for you." She shuddered. "This one was different. In all the others, I at least recognized that it was a dream. This time it felt real."

He nodded; then his hand moved to her chin and he lifted it, forcing her to meet his eyes. "If I pull a few strings we can leave today," he said softly.

Leah knew he wasn't asking a question. Because he didn't need to ask. This dream had been the last straw for both of them. She didn't know if she could survive another one. She would do whatever she had to do to make sure there were no more dreams.

A second later, she swallowed hysterical laughter. Who was she trying to fool? There was no place to hide now. The dream had seen to that. No matter how she tried to avoid the truth, it wouldn't go away. Leah wasn't simply attracted to Paul. She loved him. And she probably had from the very beginning.

The very thing she had spent most of her adult life avoiding had sneaked up on her in the dead of night. It simply wasn't fair.

Pulling away from him, she rose unsteadily to her feet. "I hope the place you have in mind doesn't have a television," she said dryly.

"It doesn't matter," he said with complete confidence. "The dreams won't come back as long as we're together. I told you—that's what it's all about."

Sex, she thought, biting her lip to keep from protesting. He thought it was all about sex. And she couldn't tell him how wrong he was. For her, the sexual attraction was only a small part of a larger, unwanted truth. She hadn't sought this particular emotion, and she would be damned if she would simply give in to it.

She would go away with him. And maybe, eventually, they would make love. But she would keep her heart separate.

"Yes, that's what it's all about," she said with quiet determination.

Chapter Eight

The raging rocks,

With shivering shocks,

Shall break the locks

Of prison gates:

A Midsummer Night's Dream
—Act I, Scene 2

L
eah slid sideways and let Paul help her out of the small Lear jet. Then she stood perfectly still and looked around. At
nothing.

Rays from a yellow-white sun reflected off the silver body of the jet, momentarily blinding her. And that was the only relief she got from the overwhelming landscape.

Everywhere she looked there were rocks. Large rocks and small rocks; brown rocks and dull beige rocks. There wasn't even a proper landing strip. Heat

shimmered in silvery waves from a flat stretch of desert surrounded by towering boulders and jutting cliffs.

Paul had landed them squarely in the middle of hell.

She glanced sideways at him, her expression carefully blank. "I think I've changed my mind," she said slowly.

He chuckled, obviously enjoying her reaction. "Somehow I have a feeling you were expecting a resort condo, with maid service, palm trees and rum punch."

"I don't know what I expected... but it definitely wasn't this," she said. Her tone was as dry as the dirt beneath her feet.

It was difficult to believe that only hours ago she had been in the heart of civilization. After they had made the decision to go away together, Paul had barely given her time to pack before he had returned to her apartment. They had driven immediately to a small, private airport.

She hadn't asked questions then, not even when she found out he would be piloting the plane himself. She had been in a sleep-deprived fog, a fog that had overcome her soon after the plane took off.

Now, suddenly, here she was, in the middle of nowhere, with a lot of rocks for company. It was possible she had made a mistake in not asking questions.

She inhaled the sharp, hot air. "Where are we?"

Paul's eyes narrowed against the sun as he surveyed the area. On the surface, he seemed as unemotional as always, but Leah caught a glimpse of something in his face. Relief was the only way she

could describe it. As though he found solace in this uncompromisingly desolate place.

"These are the foothills of the Santiago Mountains," he said quietly.

"Which told her exactly nothing. "Texas?" she asked. "Mexico? Chile?" She glanced around. "Mars?"

"We're in the Trans-Pecos region, just north of the Big Bend," he said, and if she hadn't known better she would have said his expression was slightly indulgent. "The Santiagos are a spur of the Rocky Mountains."

"The Big Bend?" she repeated dully, feeling a little stunned. "You're kidding. Nothing lives here—nothing except jackrabbits and bleached bones."

"And us." Reaching behind her, he slammed the door of the plane shut. "At least for the next week," he added, turning to walk away from her.

"Where are you going?" The panic in her voice irritated her as she hurried after him. "You're going to get me in the mood by flinging me into the middle of Dante's Inferno for a week of survival training?" she yelled at his back. "I've been promised trips to New York, Europe and the Bahamas in exchange for my company in the bedroom. If I turned all those down, why on earth—" She broke off and swore, untangling her foot from the low-hanging branches of a dust-covered plant. "Why would I be tempted by a chance to become a Kalahari Bushman? Heavens knows, I wouldn't offend you for the world, but I'm afraid you need a few lessons in—"

What he needed lessons in was muffled against his cotton shirt when she ran abruptly into his back. He turned and looked down at her. The blatant amusement in his eyes made her want to slap his face.

"The purpose of this trip is to let you get to know me, not to get you 'in the mood,' as you so quaintly put it. I can get a response from you anytime I want, anyplace I want," he explained calmly. "But you would resent your response, and I have no use for a brooding woman. When you stop seeing me as your boss and start seeing me as a man, we'll go on to the next step."

As he spoke, her expression went from mild belligerence to narrow-eyed anger, then finally settled down to slightly grumpy resignation. "And I couldn't see you as a man in a green place?" she asked, her smile just a shade crooked. "Somewhere with air conditioning and indoor plumbing?"

"You might see a man there, but you wouldn't see me. This is where lean be myself," he said firmly. Then he turned and began walking again.

"Inflexible, stiff-necked tyrant," she muttered to herself as she followed him. "He can only be himself here.... I should have known he was kissing cousin to an iguana."

When he disappeared behind a large outcrop of rocks, she rushed to catch up. On the other side of the rocks, a Jeep stood under the protection of a corrugated aluminum shelter. Paul was already getting into the driver's seat.

At least it had a vinyl top, she thought as she slid in beside him. Maybe there wouldn't be too many rattlesnakes and scorpions to attack her ankles. Enough heat had penetrated the metal covering and the vinyl top to burn the backs of her legs through her linen slacks, adding to her annoyance.

"Someone forgot to tell this place that it was fall," she said under her breath as she unzipped the clear plastic flap that served as a window.

He turned the key, starting the engine. "A cool front is supposed to come through tonight. It should be down in the eighties by tomorrow."

"And me without my wool underwear," she said sweetly.

Leah felt his gaze on her, but refused to meet his eyes. She knew she was acting like a spoiled child, and she also knew why. She was scared to death.

"Calm down." The gentle understanding in his voice made her jerk her head around in surprise. "Everything will work out just fine."

Leah closed her eyes. He shouldn't know that much about her. He shouldn't know that her temper always appeared when she felt insecure. And today Leah definitely felt insecure. They were here to make love; she couldn't get that out of her mind. But the eventual outcome of their trip was only partly responsible for her edginess. More immediate was the overwhelming physical awareness she had felt from the minute he had picked her up at her apartment. It was as though all the needs and desires she had been suppressing for four years had decided to surface in one violent rush.

And, as if that weren't enough, now it seemed he could read her thoughts.

"If this doesn't work out—" there was a subtle note in his voice that made her turn to look at him "—you can always go home and watch a murder mystery to punish me."

Her lips began to twitch irresistibly. She tried to tighten them, but it was no use. When she caught the sparkling humor in his eyes, she started laughing. Within seconds she felt the tension and wariness and anger slide away from her.

A moment later he pulled the Jeep alongside the plane, put on the emergency brake and stepped out. When she saw him unloading their bags and boxes of supplies, Leah got out and helped him transfer the cargo.

As soon as they were once again on their way, she glanced at him. "How often do you come here?"

"As often as I can since I bought the plane." He jerked on the wheel to avoid a deep rut. "I can usually get one weekend a month here, then three weeks in the spring."

"The plane is yours?" she asked in surprise. "I thought it was a company jet."

His eyes danced with humor, and he gave his head a small shake. "I'm afraid Universal doesn't furnish its vice presidents with private planes yet."

She raised one slender eyebrow. "Maybe not, but they apparently pay very well."

"I have a private income from my father." His green eyes flickered oddly at her as a small smile twisted his lips. "I wonder why that surprises you?"

He was doing it again, she thought in exasperation. Making a determined effort to keep her features free of emotion, she said, "I haven't met a lot of really wealthy people, and most of the ones I've met have been self-made men."

"And the ones with inherited wealth?"

She gripped the seat as the Jeep bounced around a curve. "I dated a man whose grandfather had left him a fortune. He took me to all the best places. He was good-looking, well-bred, charming—and dumb as dirt. His parents gave him everything; there was no need for him to think. Ever. He hired people to do that for him."

"And you decided he was the rule rather than the exception." It wasn't a question. It was a flat statement.

"Why do you say that as though it's exactly what, you expected of me?" she asked, her voice puzzled as she turned slightly to examine his features.

He smiled, keeping his eyes on the rough track ahead. "Because it
is
exactly what I expected of you."