Christmas Present Part 6

"Exactly. And since it will be a while longer until the lawyers have our papers ready-"

"I told the lawyers to take their time. I wanted this to be a social visit instead of a business trip."

"I know, and I appreciate that, but would you mind very much if I interrupt the visit for a few days?"

It was the right decision. The feeling flowed through Kells with an ever-growing strength that formed into a single-minded determination to follow through with it, no matter what Burke's objections. Kells wasn't sure what would happen once he got to Tucson. He just knew he had to go. Because Tucson was where Bria would be.

Burke eyed him speculatively. "I didn't realize you were talking about going in for more than a day. I have made plans for us-"

"I know, and I'm sorry if I'm fouling anything up. But like I said, when Bria mentioned Christmas shopping, it gave me the idea. I hope you don't mind."

Burke hesitated for only a moment. "Of course I don't mind, if that's what you really want to do. My

plans will wait until you get back. You can hitch a ride with Bria. She'll be flying one of our helicopters in."

"She's a pilot?"

"She learned to fly almost before she learned to drive. You can also stay in our apartment there."

"I don't want to put anyone out. I can check into a hotel."

"I won't hear of it. You're still our guest, and you'll be much more comfortable in our place than you will

be in a hotel. Our apartment is in Delaney Towers. Bria's apartment is on the same floor, and I'm sure she'll be happy to recommend places for you to shop."

It mis right. "If you're sure..."

Burke clapped him on the back. "I'm positive. You'd better hurry and pack. I'll call Bria.

Shall I tell her you'll meet her in thirty minutes out by the landing pad?"

"Thirty minutes."

It was right.

It felt good to be back in her own apartment, Bria thought later that evening, trying to soak away her tension in a tub of scented bubbles and hot water. She loved Killara; it was part of her, a piece of her heart that never left her no matter where she went. But when she had moved into her own place, she had taken great pleasure in decorating it herself in styles, textures, and colors that she loved. The basic color she'd chosen was cream, to which she'd added the vibrant, rich accent colors of purple, crimson, and gold. And the furniture, paintings, and ornaments reflected her need for things casually elegant and sensually comfortable.

So she was home. It wasn't in her makeup to run from anything, but the situation had made it seem necessary. But unfortunately the problem she had tried to leave behind had come with her.

At first she had been furious when her dad had told her that Kells was coming along. She had considered her plan foolproof.

But Kells's reasons for wanting to make the trip had made as much sense as her reasons had, and she hadn't been able to protest without making a scene. Besides, she figured she had only herself to blame for bringing up the trip in his presence.

She and Kells had barely spoken on the flight into Tucson, and her anger had slowly given way to a new tension. Kells was like no man she had ever known. Even his silence seemed to be filled with words, and at times his stillness could be more volatile than his movements.

Danger. Danger. Danger. The words flashed in her mind like a lit-up road sign, but other than proceed with extreme caution, she couldn't think of a thing to do.

When they had reached the twentieth floor of Delaney Towers, she had given Kells the key to her parents' penthouse, pointed down the long hall toward the front door, then left him. At least they were in different apartments, instead of living in the same house, she thought-but it gave her little comfort. Delaney Towers was a big building, however. If she worked it right and was lucky, she wouldn't have to see him.

She climbed from the tub, dried herself off, and wrapped herself in an emerald-green satin robe. The material against her skin further soothed her nerves.

In the kitchen she set chicken b.r.e.a.s.t.s simmering in white wine and started to make a salad. She was slicing a tomato when the doorbell rang. The knife blade slipped and barely missed her fingers. So much for soothed nerves, she reflected ruefully.

Her living room, dining room, and kitchen was one very large area, with the kitchen separated from the other two rooms by a wraparound East Indian satinwood bar. She stared across the vast expanse of polished wood floor to her front door, wondering who it could be. None of her friends knew she was back in town. She supposed one of them might have called Killara and been told she was here. But...

She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and went to open the door.

"h.e.l.lo, Bria." Without waiting for an invitation, Kells walked past her and into the apartment. He did a quick scan of his surroundings, then turned and fixed her with a penetrating gaze. "Nice place."

She pushed the door shut, using more force than was strictly necessary. "It's not as nice as my parents' apartment," she said pointedly. "What's wrong? Do you need something? Towels? Soap? A cup of sugar?"

"As a matter of fact, I do need something."

His husky tone made her swallow and led to the discovery that her throat had constricted. "What?"

He almost smiled. At this moment, barefoot and dressed in a robe, she somehow managed to look very regal, very imperious. But he felt much too tightly wound to smile.

"I need an answer. Why did you decide to leave Killara to fly here?"

She blinked. "You came here to ask me that?"

"I think it's important." After hours of unrelenting self-interrogation, he knew the answer to why he had come. Quite simply, he couldn't stand her being out of his sight. And because no matter what reasons he gave himself for doing the opposite, he wasn't going to rest until they had come together in hours of hot, steamy s.e.x.

She shrugged. "I came here to do the same thing as you. Shop. Anyway, why are you asking? You were there at lunch. You heard."

"What I saw was more interesting than what I heard. You couldn't look at me."

Between the time the doorbell had rung and now, Bria's tension had come back full force. She had nothing on beneath the robe, and she was sure he knew it. Naked, unprotected, she felt in danger of baring everything to him, both physically and emotionally. She jerked the robe's satin belt tighter around her waist. "I was preoccupied."

"With what?"

"None of your d.a.m.ned business."

His eyes narrowed "I'm beginning to wonder."

His gaze was too sharp, too piercing. She crossed her arms over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "I don't understand, Kells. Why should you care what my reasons are or were?"

"Because I think by coming here you were trying to run away from me."

"If that was the case," she said, biting off each word, "my plan failed, didn't it? Quite miserably actually. Anyway, why should I run? As far as I can see, there's nothing to run from." Her last statement was true as far as it went, but on some level of consciousness she hadn't allowed herself to explore until now, she was afraid she had tried to run from her own feelings. The truth unsettled her, but she went on, hoping for a nonchalant tone. "You've made yourself perfectly clear. I have nothing to fear from you. Every time we've been together, you've pulled away from me."

"You brought that up before. It must bother you."

She turned from him, red hair and green satin whirling. "Why in the world wouldn't it? You blow hot one minute and cold the next. You asked me what kind of game I was playing. I could turn around and ask you the same thing."

If he was playing a game with her, he thought grimly, then he was also playing one with himself. And by coming to Tucson, he had lost both games. He circled her until he was again standing in front of her and could see every nuance of her expression "It's not because I'm rejecting you, Bria. Believe me." It was as hard on his system as it was on hers, probably harder. His body had come to crave her, and the craving was beyond his experience, almost beyond what his body could endure. "Besides, we only shared a few kisses. Nothing more."

Only. A few kisses. Funny, it seemed so much more. She exhaled a long breath. "Okay, Kells, you're right. I ran. Whatever we have or haven't shared, I decided I had had enough, and so I removed myself from your path."

"Yet here we are again, together."

The softness of his voice danced across her skin, and the jangle of her nerves increased to a clamor. "This time it's not my fault."

"Isn't it?" He reached out, touched one finger to her cheek, but then quickly withdrew his hand. The softness of her skin was too delightful to bear with equanimity. "No, you're right. This time it's my fault. I came with you. Maybe not entirely willingly, but nevertheless I'm here because I wanted very much to be here."

Maybe it was her overworked imagination, but his words seemed to carry one meaning on the surface and another beneath it, and she felt the need for clarification. "You wanted to be here to do your Christinas shopping, right?"

"Of course." He looked away, out a large window, toward the lights of Tucson that spread below them. What in the h.e.l.l did he think he was doing? She was a Delaney. Worse, she was Burke Delaney's daughter. On some deep-seated level, the fact still bothered him slightly. But on another, stronger, more potent, body-involving, mind-controlling level, he didn't give a d.a.m.n anymore. "I was wondering if you could recommend a good restaurant. I was also going to ask if you'd like to go with me, but I see you've already started dinner." He nodded toward the kitchen.

"Yes."

"It smells wonderful." In reality, he hadn't been able to smell anything else but her for days. "Did you make enough for two?"

"Now, why would I do that?" She had, thinking that she could eat the rest for lunch tomorrow, at least that's why she thought she had done it. And now all she could do was stare at him and try very hard not to believe that she was actually going to ask him to stay.

"I hate eating alone, don't you?" He did it all the time, and it had never bothered him.

She nibbed between her eyes, experiencing a feeling of inevitability. She had tried to get away from him, and it had done her no good. The really scary thing was, she had seen them kissing in the mirror and had wanted it to happen in real life. Next, she had seen them about to make love, and, Lord help her, she was very much afraid she wanted it also to happen.

There, she had admitted it. But not by so much as a word would she initiate a thing. Not if she could help herself. It was her problem to work out, hers and hers alone.

"The dishes are in the top cabinet to the left of the sink. Set the table. I'll change clothes."

"Please don't." His words were velvet-soft and caused heat to skim through her veins. She turned on her heel and walked to her bedroom. In her enormous walk-in closet she hurriedly slipped on panties and a strapless bra then reached for one of her favorite chesses, a comfortable purple cashmere sweater dress.

She checked herself in a mirror, a normal mirror, and fretted at what she saw. The neckline rested off her shoulders; the cashmere knit clung to the curves of her body. Too provocative? The h.e.l.l with it, she thought, irritated with herself and the situation.

She marched back to the kitchen, where Kells had set the table.

"Can I do anything else?" he asked, his gaze following the lines of the dress with an engineer's precision.

She randomly picked a job and pointed toward her wine rack. "You can select the wine."

Silently she set about finis.h.i.+ng the dinner. Kells studied the rows of bottles, chose one, and opened the wine, then walked into the living room and decided upon several jazz compact discs from her collection. She had a specially designed sound system that had come with complicated instructions, but within seconds Kells had figured out how to work it, and soft mood music drifted through the air. A minute later he had a fire blazing in the fireplace. His efficiency further agitated her. She felt as if a powerful tide were rus.h.i.+ng toward her, and there was nothing she could do to turn it or fight it. * * * Dinner pa.s.sed, if not easily, at least with some semblance of cordiality. They managed to have a civilized conversation, though Bria couldn't imagine how they were doing so. The emotions they provoked in each other were anything but civilized.

She was relieved when the meal was over.

While Kells cleared the table, she poured them each a cup of coffee. When he returned to his seat, she asked a question that had been flitting around her mind for some time. "So, who's on your gift list?"

He shrugged. "Friends, several employees."

"Men or women or both?" His raised eyebrows prompted her to add, "It would make a difference where you go to shop."

"How about helping me?"

"Sony. I don't have one Southwest item on my list. My friends and family are saturated with the stuff."

"So? You could still come with me. It would be for only a few hours. It doesn't take me long to know

whether I like or don't like something." One look at her had been sufficient.

She shook her head. "I don't think so, but I'll give you the names of several stores I'm sure you'll like."

He studied her for a moment. "Would it make any difference if I told you the only women on my list are

my secretary, who is fifty-five years old, and the wives of friends of mine? In the latter instance, the gifts will be given to the couples."

A weight lifted from her, a weight she hadn't known she had been carrying. But nothing was changed.

"I think it's best we go our separate ways."

His eyes narrowed intently on her. "I wish I knew what went on in your head."

"Nothing very interesting." He had implied he had no girlfriends. A man as pa.s.sionate, as virile as Kells with no woman in his life?