He knew the questions were inevitable, and had dreaded this very moment from the time he mentioned that he’d been with Jordan at the purchase of Liaisons. Careless. He hated having to lie to her. She was so beautiful, so sincere, nothing like the person that he’d envisioned. But he felt he had no other choice.
He stepped cautiously closer. She looked so fragile and vulnerable. Her luminous brown eyes were wide with expectation.
“We worked—together,” he began, “on several projects.”
Noelle’s brow creased. “I don’t remember Jordan ever mentioning you.”
He thought quickly. “I was more of a consultant. He called me in from time to time.”
She lowered her gaze to the ground. Her voice was barely above a whisper. Trent strained to catch each word.
“I hadn’t seen Jordan for three months before the—accident. He’d spent his time traveling and then when the revolt started, he told me he couldn’t get away, there were too many things to take care of.”
Slowly she looked up, her eyes glistening with memories. “I’m sorry,” she said, swallowing back a sob. “I didn’t mean to drag you into my problems.” She sniffed and smiled weakly.
His gut twisted with guilt. “It’s all right,” he assured her softly. He pulled a monogrammed handkerchief from the breast pocket of his midnight blue dinner jacket and handed it to her. Instantly he realized his error.
The initials TMD hypnotized him. He held his breath while Noelle dabbed at her eyes.
“Thank you Cole.” She handed him the handkerchief. His relief was almost palpable. Noelle read it as discomfort. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I don’t usually do this kind of thing. Especially around strangers.”
His eyes roved over her face. “I was hoping that we were more than strangers.” He grinned mischievously. “Especially after this morning, Mrs. Maxwell,” he teased, his look bringing back swift memories of their earlier encounter at his suite. His crooked smile made Noelle laugh in spite of herself.
“I guess you’re right.” She eyed him coyly surprising herself with her directness. “So what does that make us—exactly?”
He stepped closer, until he was near enough to feel the heat from her body, and was sure that she could hear his racing heart.
She felt the intimate caress of his eyes when he looked at her and held her breath as he spoke.
“I’d say that makes us two people who are on their way to something very—” he touched her chin with the tip of his finger “—very special.”
When she looked up into his eyes, he saw a mixture of longing and doubt. “What do you say to that?” he asked softly.
She hesitated, reluctant to say what she was truly feeling. Things were moving too fast.
“I’d say it’s time that we changed the subject.”
Trent smoothly recovered without missing a step, much to Noelle’s relief. The feelings she had about Cole Richards were coming too hot, too fast. She had to put on the brakes.
He grinned and shoved his hands in his pants pockets, reminding her of a little boy caught with his fingers in the cookie jar.
“And to what would you like to change the subject?”
Noelle breathed deeply. “What exactly did you do for Maxwell Enterprises?” She looked directly into his eyes.
Trent casually averted his gaze. “I was responsible for recommending particular aircrafts to suit the need.” He spread his hand in explanation as he continued. “I compared capabilities, costs, shopped around, kept up on the latest models, made necessary negotiations.” He shrugged, offhandedly. “Things like that.”
Slowly Noelle nodded while she absorbed the information. Then her head snapped up.
“Would that cover personal aircrafts as well?” Her pulse raced and so did Trent’s. He thought he knew where this was headed and he didn’t like the direction. But he couldn’t divert the inevitable collision.
“In some cases,” he replied with caution.
“Cole.” She stretched out her hand and clasped his arm. “I want you to find out what happened to my husband’s plane.”
“What?” That request he didn’t expect. “I—I, didn’t the FAA rule it as an accident?”
“I don’t care what the FAA said!” Her slender hands clenched into fists. “I have a feeling that something happened. Something that the FAA and my own investigator were unable to find. Jordan was too careful, too conscientious about everything. He never would have flown in a plane that had even the remotest problem.”
Her dark brown eyes locked with his. “And neither would Trent Dixon. Unless he knew…” Her voice trailed off with her thoughts.
“Knew what?”
She shook her head in uncertainty. “I’m not sure,” she said finally. “All I know is that I’ll never be able to go on with my life until I do know—for sure. And I believe that you’re the one who can help me.”
He read the silent plea in her eyes and he almost weakened.
“But you even said that you’d hired an investigator and he couldn’t come up with anything. The FAA couldn’t come up with anything. Why are you so sure that I can?”
Her features softened when she spoke. “You don’t have to answer me now. Just promise me that you’ll think about it.”
Trent briefly shut his eyes, realizing that at that moment, with her looking at him as if he was the only man on earth; if Noelle Maxwell had asked him to jump off of the Golden Gate bridge in his birthday suit he would have agreed. He nodded.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
With that aside Noelle took up their stroll again, heading back in the direction of the main house. She spoke softly as they walked.
“Sometimes,” she began, “I feel as though I’m trapped in some sort of limbo. Unable to go forward, unable to go back. My unresolved feelings have me locked into a fortress without windows or doors.”
“But you are moving on with your life. You’ve opened Liaisons. It’s obviously a success.”
She laughed a self-deprecating laugh. “This is all part of the fortress.”
His dark eyes squinted in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
She touched his arm lightly and instantly felt the heat spread through her fingers. “It’s a longer story than I care to tell.” She turned away.
For several moments he stood behind her, entranced by her solitary beauty. The iridescent glow from the half moon seemed to cast a halo around her black clad body, every detail of her form defined under the moonlight. He was spellbound by the sensuous voice, moved to undeniable arousal by her very existence in his life and pained by the fear and loneliness that was her life. Damn it Jordan! What have you done to her—to me?
He eased closer and turned her around into the circle of his arms.
“Maybe one day you’ll tell me,” he said gently. His eyes trailed languidly over her face and he felt her heart slam against his chest.
She stared at him, transfixed by an overwhelming anticipation that was almost unbearable. She struggled to control the spiraling emotions and failed as his head lowered. His mouth met her parted lips.
The contact was as fiery as an arson’s blaze. She felt her entire body ignite, yet she shivered in his arms. He pulled her closer, molding her body to his.
His own mind and body convulsed in a barrage of explosive