John peered narrowly at his plate, then picked up his fork and stabbed at his eggs. A smile of relief eased across his face. ‘Thank God,’ he muttered. ‘Eggs unadorned. Remind me to give the chef who cooked this a bonus.’ He took a mouthful, chewed, then swallowed. ‘Of course the weekend was tough. A big job, and your first solo assignment. Why, I remember right after I started Diamond’s, I landed a huge account…’
It was a story Talia had heard before. Only half listening, she picked at her lunch while John rambled on. Talking about the weekend she’d spent at the Redwood Inn had brought a rush of unwelcome memories. Her thoughts drifted far from the small, handsomely appointed dining-room to a narrow trail winding through a shadowed grove of trees, to a man whose arrogant, handsome face had haunted her dreams for the past two weeks.
And that was ridiculous. What had happened on that trail had been unpleasant, even humiliating. The man had been brash and vulgar. But the only harm done had been to her ego. Talia knew that, just as she knew she should have long since put the whole incident out of her mind.
But she hadn’t. She was sure she knew the reason: as soon as the man had faded from sight, she’d thought of a dozen cutting remarks she should have made to put him in his place. At the very least, she should have dismissed him on the spot. He’d caught her off guard, she knew that, and she told herself she couldn’t be blamed for not reacting quickly enough to his insults.
By the time she’d hobbled back to the inn, she’d been burning with the desire to strike back at him. She’d shrugged off the concerns of the young couple who’d escorted her to the door, hurried to her room, exchanged her ruined shoes for a new pair and then rushed downstairs to begin her search for the man.
But he hadn’t been there. After a while, when she’d calmed down, she’d realised that there was no way he’d have stayed around. He’d certainly have figured out that she had been going to hand him his walking papers. And he’d never have let her have that satisfaction. He might be a drifter, but he wasn’t a fool.
The next day, she’d thought of asking if anyone knew his name. There was a certain camaraderie among those who drifted along the California coast, searching for the right wave or the right beach, and everyone knew someone who knew someone else. But it hadn’t seemed such a wise idea. People would have wanted to know why she was enquiring about him, and what would her answer have been to that?
She couldn’t have said he’d walked off the job. In this business, people did that often enough and it wasn’t the practice of employers to go looking for them. Nor could she have said he’d been insolent. To do that, she’d have had to explain what he’d done, and she wasn’t exactly sure what had happened to her in that redwood forest.
Besides, what would have been the point? The man had made a fool of her, but the incident was over and best forgotten. And she’d almost thought she had forgotten it, in the rush of activity that the day had brought. There had been no fresh mushrooms for the dinner salads, and one of the cooks had wrenched his back. By the time the day had ended, Talia had been exhausted and drained.
But, that night, she’d had her first dream about him. It had been filled with uncertain images. But the memory of his eyes, blazing with fire, had been as vivid as the memory of his mouth moving with fierce sweetness on hers. She’d awakened suddenly, trembling, stunned by the sharp reality of that kiss. Talia was almost thirty years old, she knew the facts of life—but she had never had that kind of dream before.
What was more upsetting was that what she’d felt in the arms of her dream lover had been more exciting than anything she’d ever felt in the arms of the flesh and blood man she’d been involved with. It had happened quite a while ago, but she still remembered how unfulfilled she’d felt after the relationship had reached that stage. She’d been lonely—that was probably what had made her seek Keith’s comfort. But she’d been even lonelier when she’d found that she’d felt nothing in the intimate embrace of the man who’d said he’d loved and wanted her.
The only positive thing about the brief affair was that it had proved that she wasn’t tainted by her mother’s affliction. The only passion that drove Talia was the passion to succeed.
She had avoided emotional entanglements ever since. There’d been no need for them; the job with Diamond Food Services had come along, and suddenly Talia’s life had been full and rich. Her career had become the passion of her life, her success the yardstick by which she could measure her rapid progress away from the poverty and desperation in which that life had begun.
Now, suddenly, shockingly, her body had betrayed her. She’d felt unclean. When her heart had stopped thudding, she’d thrown back the blankets and stalked to the shower, as angry at herself as she had been at the man who’d invaded her dreams. She’d stood beneath the streaming water for long minutes, scrubbing her skin until it glowed pink, as if the soap would cleanse not just her flesh but her mind and soul.
There’d been no more dreams—until the next night. And the next. To her despair, there seemed no way to stop them. The fantasies were never really clear, they were more like mirages shimmering distantly in a hot desert wind—but they always ended the same way, with Talia clasped in the stranger’s powerful arms, her body moulded to the heat of his, her mouth blooming under the passion of his kiss.
Last night, she’d awakened remembering his words. ‘Until we meet again,’ he’d said. Her heart had skipped erratically. It had only been a figure of speech, she’d assured herself. There was no way their paths would ever cross, they came from worlds so far apart, there was no sense in even attempting to envisage their meeting. Talia’s world was ordered and controlled; it was her safe way to face life. His—his was chaos and anarchy. It was the antithesis of everything she believed in.
Not that it mattered. She hated him. She only dreamed about him because he’d upset her—that was easy enough to understand.
Then why did she tremble in his arms every night? She wasn’t even asleep when he came to her. As soon as she climbed into bed and put out the light, he was beside her in the dark, his mouth a curl of flame on hers, his hands a silken glide across her skin…
‘Talia?’
She blinked and looked up from her lunch, her eyes focusing on her employer seated opposite her. John Diamond gave her a wry grin. ‘I knew you’d be pleased, but I didn’t think my news would bring a glow to your cheeks,’ he said.
Talia blushed. ‘I’m sorry, John. I must have been daydreaming. Did you say something?’
Diamond laughed. ‘Did I say something, indeed!’ He shoved his empty plate aside, learned forward, and put his elbows on the table. ‘When did you tune out, sweetheart? Before the request from old man Miller, or after?’
Her teeth closed lightly on her bottom lip. ‘Request?’ She groaned dramatically. ‘Don’t tell me he’s planning another executive weekend. I’ve hardly recovered from the last.’
‘Ah, ye of little faith, what do we care about executive weekends when we can establish executive dining-rooms?’ John grinned. ‘Your mouth’s fallen open, Talia. You really didn’t hear a bit of what I said a few minutes ago, did you?’
‘Executive dining-room? Logan Miller wants us to set one up?’
Her boss nodded. ‘That was what his letter said.’
‘But I’d have thought they already had one in their Los Angeles offices. A company like that…’
John shrugged. ‘I gather they’re opening new offices and they want us to do the honours.’ He paused, then smiled slyly. ‘Actually, it’s you the old boy wants, lovey. He made a special request for Miss Talia Roberts.’
Talia’s pulse leaped. The weekend really had gone well. To have made such a positive impression on a new client was more than she’d hoped for. ‘Really?’
Her