Winds of Heaven

WINDS OF HEAVEN

Karen Toller Whittenburg

Chapter One

The touch on her arm was firm and definitely masculine. Kylie Richards turned and glanced at the well-shaped hand, noting the suggestion of strength in the long fingers. Her brows lifted in polite question as her gaze followed the length of tanned, muscled forearm to a short-sleeved yellow shirt that covered but didn’t conceal a powerful chest and shoulders.

“Excuse me.” His voice was deep with a pleasant resonance, easily heard even in the noisy surroundings of the small Santa Fe airport, “Do you need some help with your luggage?”

Kylie looked past a strong chin, a pair of lips just beginning to tip upward at the corners, a slightly arrogant nose, and found herself staring into gray eyes, glinting with silvery humor.

She had a fleeting sense of recognition and then realized he had sat a few seats in front of her on the plane. Memory quickly provided sketchy details: the way he’d greeted one of the flight crew and been greeted in return as a frequent and valued passenger; the way he’d walked with such authority to the one remaining vacant seat and snapped open a leather briefcase; the way short tendrils of dark hair curled over the collar of his shirt as he bent his head in concentration. He hadn’t once looked in her direction, Kylie remembered, at least not to her knowledge. And now that she faced the full attention of his dusky eyes, she knew for certain that he hadn’t noticed her presence on the flight. She would have known, would have felt the touch of his gaze.

“I beg your pardon?” she asked, trying to disguise a flicker of uncertainty with a composed expression.

“Do you need some help with your luggage?” The chivalrous inflection threading his voice was oddly appealing.

“I’ve been hoping to catch the attention of a skycap, but there seems to be a noticeable lack of them.” Looking at him with amusement, she said playfully, “I don’t suppose you’re—?”

His mouth completed the upward slant into a smile. “Just a former boy scout, I’m afraid. But I did earn a merit badge in luggage handling.”

“Oh.” A pleasurable ripple of discovery hesitantly dimpled her cheek. “And do you also assist little old ladies across the street?”

“But of course.” Friendly amusement danced deep in his eyes. “I try never to discriminate on the basis of age, though, and you do look as if you could use some assistance.”

She dropped a rueful glance at the awkward tangle of suitcases at her feet, knowing she probably appeared helpless, but unable to recover her usual aplomb. She met his eyes with a conceding grimace. “Yes, thank you. I’d appreciate your help. If you’re sure you don’t mind ...”

He lifted a hand to still her doubts. “Say no more. My pleasure.” A wayward strand of sable hair edged onto his forehead as he bent to look at her luggage.

An indefinable impulse to brush the dark hair into place tickled her fingertips and brought a stern mental reprimand. She wondered if it was possible to get jet lag on a ninety-minute flight from Denver.

His eyes skimmed from the luggage tags to her face with a cursory but inquiring glance at the ring finger of her left hand. “My pleasure,” he repeated, “Miss Kylie Richards of San Diego.”

There was a thin whisper of question in the words, and she found herself intrigued by his interest and the quiet charm of his husky voice. “You have the advantage, I’m afraid,” she said with a questioning lift of her brows.

The charcoal-gray eyes frowned, then softened with understanding. “Nick Braden of San Francisco,” he provided with a courtly nod.

“Mister
Nick Braden?” Kylie couldn’t resist stressing the unequal amount of information on marital status conveyed by their respective titles.

His lips formed a curve of droll appreciation.
“Mister
Braden, as in
Miss
Richards,” he clarified. “But you can call me Nick. I sometimes forget to answer to Mister.”

“All right, Nick. It’s nice to meet you.”

Her hand was suddenly tucked within his. A warm clasp, a brief touch that somehow made her feel utterly and completely feminine.

“And it’s very nice to meet you—Kylie.” He spoke her name as if savoring a newly discovered taste, and she liked the sound of it.

She liked the way he smiled, too, and the curious hint of a cleft in his chin. She liked the quiescent laughter hiding in his eyes. As he moved to lift her suitcases she noted the smooth play of muscles beneath his shirt and the understated power of his lean, sinewy legs. A tinge of color warmed her cheeks as she realized the direction of her appreciation. With a blink of surprise she looked away. Jet lag or no, there was no excuse for such a response to a man’s simple courtesy.

When he straightened, a suitcase under his arm and one in each hand, she’d toned her bemused smile to a casually interested curve.

“Where to?” Nick asked.

Realizing that she didn’t have the faintest idea what to tell him, Kylie caught herself from a betraying stammer and abruptly made a decision. “A taxi.”

Slowly Nick returned the suitcases to the floor. “Is this your first trip to Santa Fe?”

“Well, yes, but—”

He nodded as if that explained everything, pursed his lips, and eyed her with a thoughtful frown. “I might warn you that it’s a toss-up as to whether morning or a taxi will appear first.”

Frustration welled and slid from her throat on a sigh. It had been a long day, and the end wasn’t anywhere in sight. There wasn’t much she could do now, except wait and hope that Alex would eventually either show up to get her or answer his telephone, which she had already rung several times. With a shrug Kylie smiled halfheartedly at Nick. “In that case I guess I’ll just have to wait. Thanks for your offer of assistance, anyway.”

“There’s no need for that, Kylie.” His voice took on a tone of command. “I phoned ahead for a rental car, which, with any luck, will be waiting out front. I’ll take you to your hotel or wherever you’re staying. Are you visiting friends in the area?” he added almost as an afterthought.

She nodded absently, considering his offer, discarding it, then considering it again. She couldn’t just accept— could she?

Apparently Nick thought she not only could but already had. “I’ll just check about the car and put your luggage in the trunk, and we’ll be ready to go. Would you like to stop somewhere for dinner?”

The question sounded almost rhetorical, and Kylie had the impression that she was being swept along by his casual assumption of authority. She started to correct him, to tell him that she didn’t accept invitations on such short acquaintance, but an unexpected impulse stayed her tongue. She was not really sure what she was searching for, as her gaze moved over his tall, lithe body and paused to examine more closely the ruggedly attractive face. An assortment of fine lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth expressed his character with pride, confidence, and good humor. Determination lay only partially hidden in the firm set of his chin, and Kylie sensed that Nick Braden would make a formidable adversary and an equally devastating ally. It was evident he was a man unused to opposition, either real or imagined.

“Kylie?” He broke through her hesitation with a hint of impatience.

She suppressed a sudden tickle of amusement. Apparently Nick Braden wasn’t used to waiting for an answer either. “Did you just invite me to dinner?” she asked and wondered what Miss Manners would do in this situation.

“Dinner and a safe delivery to your destination,” he confirmed in a voice both persuasive and self-assured. “I’d be happy to show you my driver’s license and my diner’s club card if you’d like.” As if aware of her lingering hesitation, he lifted a hand in mock solemnity. “And, scout’s honor, there will be no mention of a trip to see my etchings.”

Despite her best intentions Kylie felt herself responding to his teasing and the odd, almost off-center smile that slanted his lips. Like the affectionate clasp of a handshake, she felt his gaze reassuring her, erasing her doubts with an ease born of experience.

“Thank you,” she heard herself saying. “Dinner would be very nice.”

“Great.” He turned before she had a chance to reconsider and began to gather her luggage into his arms again. Kylie watched him with a procrastinating trace of uncertainty. Her usually cautious nature had obviously gotten lost in his you-can-trust-me gray eyes. His offer of dinner hadn’t done any harm, either, she thought as her stomach growled in silent agreement.

He straightened and took a step toward the exit. Then he stopped and glanced back at her. “I’m going to see about that car. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

“Nick?” Kylie called before he could leave. “I think I’ll make a phone call while you’re doing that.”

“Fine. Actually I should check in with my cousin too. Why don’t you make your call. I’ll take care of finding the car, phone my cousin, then meet you back here in fifteen minutes.”

“I’ll do that, Nick.” She tried to hide the humor that laced her words. She badly wanted to challenge his take-charge manner just for the fun of seeing his amazement. She would have wagered all the money in her purse that few people, if any, even thought to question Nick Braden’s authority.

“Fifteen minutes, then.” His gaze held hers, and Kylie felt as if he were searching past the soft coffee-brown color of her eyes, looking for the spark of mischievous rebellion he must have heard in her voice. “Don’t forget, Kylie.”

“No.” For the life of her she couldn’t say another word, and with an effort she freed herself from his probing look. Decisively she turned and made her way toward the nearest phone, but halfway across the room she glanced over her shoulder. Nick was striding confidently through the doorway, her luggage firmly in hand.

Well, she was committed now, Kylie thought. Nick had taken command of her evening, as well as her possessions, with unbelievable efficiency. And she wasn’t even sure that she minded. It wasn’t often she met a man who attracted and intrigued her as Nick Braden did.

Refusing to pursue that line of thought, Kylie walked to the telephone. She dug through the contents of her purse and again located the business card imprinted with the name Southwest Textiles, Inc., Santa Fe, New Mexico. Dialing the number penciled on the back of the card, she reminded herself that she was here to conduct a training seminar. If she wanted to prove the value of her ideas in a company as large and well respected as Southwest Textiles, then she’d have to concentrate on the business at hand, not on the appealing charm of dusky-gray eyes and a lopsided smile.

The ringing of the phone echoed hollowly in her ear, and she was just about to replace the receiver when she heard an answering click. “Yes?” The brusque, no-nonsense male voice replaced the mental image of Nick’s dark good looks with a picture of Alex Jamison’s sun-bleached hair, near-perfect profile, and deceptively innocent blue eyes.

“Alex? This is Kylie Richards.”

“Kylie! What a surprise!” His tone changed almost magically to one of suave pleasure. “I didn’t expect to hear from you until tomorrow. You haven’t had a change in plans, have you?”

Kylie frowned, wondering if Alex typically forgot important commitments. “I haven’t changed my plans, Alex, but I was beginning to wonder if you had. You did send the airline tickets, and I followed your instructions to the letter, but—”

“Lord, I didn’t get the days mixed up, did I?” Alex interrupted with a groan. “Was I supposed to meet you at the airport today?”

“I assumed that someone would.”

“I’m sorry, Kylie,” he pleaded. “I’ve been gone all day. Just walked in the door, in fact, and I didn’t think about….” There was a pause, and Kylie thought she heard a distinctively feminine voice in the background. “Uh, Kylie?” Alex continued. “It’s going to be a while before I can get there to pick you up. But now that I think about it, you might be able to catch a lift….”

“I don’t need a ride now, Alex.” She stopped herself from explaining the circumstances of her meeting with Nick and began again. “There won’t be any problem getting into town. If you’d just give me the address of where I’m to stay, you won’t have to worry about me at all.” Not much chance of that either way, she thought wryly, since Alex didn’t appear at all concerned about her welfare.

“Oh, that’s great,” he said with obvious relief. “I am sort of busy at the moment.”

Kylie smothered an exasperated sigh, knowing it was useless to be upset with him. If she remembered correctly, Alex liked petite blondes with adoring eyes, simple tastes, and an intellect to match. “I’m sure your
job
keeps you very busy,” she said with mock sympathy.

He had the grace to give an embarrassed laugh. “Well, you know how it is, Kylie.”

“Yes, I do.” She had no difficulty in remembering how busy he’d been when she’d met him at a business convention last spring; she’d competed with a succession of curvaceous blondes for his attention. Before she’d finally secured the contract, Kylie had begun to wonder if it was true that blondes did have more fun. “Why don’t you tell me the address?” she prodded.