“Does it work?” He clearly wasn’t going to be easily dissuaded.
“Oh, I don’t know.” I looked at the star. “The galley slave wish seems to have come out all right.”
He chuckled, but didn’t turn away. No, he stood there and looked at the damn star, as though he would wait all night to know whatever the heck it was he wanted to know.
“Isn’t it time you tucked up on the couch?”
“I remember you picking out a star once.”
Oh, so did I. I looked at that star and wished with all my heart and soul that he wouldn’t figure out that the memory of that magical night was the reason I had made this a habit.
Nick’s expression turned distant, the way it had when he talked about Bhutan. “You’ve really got to go to Morocco, Phil,” he murmured. “There’s a place, generously called an auberge or an inn, out by the dunes of the desert. It’s near Merzouga.”
“Merzouga.” It was irresistible to try out the name. It felt as exotic on my tongue as it sounded. “That’s the town?”
“Well, a lot of these places are more a feeling than a destination.” Nick smiled. “They don’t do the New England four square corner much. Sometimes there’s only one building, sometimes the name refers to a general district, sometimes there really is a cluster that we would call a town.”
He looked at me again, his voice dropping low enough to lull me to the land of good dreams. “But you can sleep on the roof of this place when the weather’s good. It’s miles from anywhere—in fact, I have to hire one of the locals every time I drive out there. There’s no road and it’s too easy to get lost in the shifting dunes. The only electricity comes from generators and people are pretty tight with it, so it’s dark at night, really dark.
“When a full moon rises, it’s as though the sun is coming up. It actually casts a shadow. I never knew there were so many stars. You can hardly see the sky for them. They’re dazzling.”
He shook his head and looked at me, his eyes gleaming, his voice filled with an affection that made me shiver. “You’d have a hard time picking which one was the brightest one to hang your wish on, Phil.”
We stared at each other across the darkened room and I knew then that he hadn’t missed the connection.
But he wasn’t going to make me feel like an idiot about it.
“Why did you really sell your company, Nick?” I asked quietly. “You obviously aren’t tired of traveling.”
He abruptly turned away. “Yes, I am. That part of my life is done. Goodnight, Phil.”
But I had had enough slamming doors to last me a while.
* * *
“That’s it!”
Phil stormed out of the bedroom behind him, an avenging angel in beribboned blue flannel. He guessed she didn’t know how the soft fabric clung in all the right places.
He enjoyed the view for a moment, only now accepting that she hadn’t befriended him to get closer to his brother. He’d always assumed that was the reason she’d first approached him, never mind the reason they’d become friends. Now he wondered what had led him to that conclusion, let alone what had made him cling to it all these years.
But Phil couldn’t lie. And the way she had looked at him had completely shaken the foundations of his universe. She liked him. That seemed like a stupid thing to both please and excite a thirty-five year old man.
Even though he knew nothing should ever come of it. Even though he knew he couldn’t be good for her. He wouldn’t be responsible for Phil’s inevitable disappointment, or her tumble from her tightrope of control. He cared enough about her to be sure that he didn’t ruin her.
He had a certain touch in that department, after all.
Her eyes flashed and she jabbed a finger through the air at him. She was flushed and furious.
“Look, it’s a bird, it’s a plane, no, it’s RETICENT MAN!” She flung out her hands and shouted.
The neighbor upstairs thumped on the floor.
“All right!” she cried at the ceiling, then leveled a glare at him that did not bode well for his future. “Honest to God, Nick, I’m going to get you a T-shirt with a big red R on the front and make you wear it everyday as a warning to the unsuspecting people of planet Earth who might just be foolish enough to think that you would actually admit to something!”
She paused for breath but only just barely. “How dare you refuse to tell me anything at all? What kind of deal is this? Compared to you, the Great Sphinx is making the talk show circuit—every single question I ask, you shut me right out. I thought we were friends! Can’t I be curious about the fifteen years you’ve been gone?”
She huffed.
He shrugged, feeling that anything he said would sound inadequate. “I’m not used to talking about myself.”
“Well, we have a deal, in case you’ve forgotten, and I get two more answers out of you.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Ante up.”
He sank onto the couch and studied her. Phil’s feet were bare, the hem of the gown swinging high enough that he could see the sweet curve of her insteps, the sexy line of her ankles. He laced his fingers together and leaned his elbows casually on his knees, pretending his blood wasn’t simmering and his jeans weren’t too tight.
Or that he was checking out her feet.
Let alone that it had taken everything within him not to snatch up what she offered.
What he needed was a bit of sleep. Just enough to bolster his legendary self-control.
“You can’t leave me in the dark like this!” she retorted, his own little Amazon queen. “It’s not fair.”
“What’s fair got to do with anything?”
“Right! I open my apartment to you, I drive to Rosemount for no reason whatsoever, I try to help you—but you put zipadeedoodah into the mix. I am not a charitable organization, all indications to the contrary!”
“No, you’re a secret collector and you want one of mine.”
That took the wind out of her sails. Her shoulders sagged and she looked smaller suddenly. She took a step back, her expression so wounded that he had to make her smile.
He winked. “Besides, you seem to be putting up with me so far.”
That brought her chin back up. “Only because I’m a paragon of tolerance.” She gritted her teeth visibly. “You’ve officially used it all up, Nick Sullivan. The buck stops here. Now give me a decent answer or pay the price.”
He deliberately let that threat and its potential innuendo lie. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“Bullshit.”
He blinked, never having heard Phil swear before.
She looked unrepentant. “You think it’s fair that you weasel all sorts of embarrassing tidbits out of me, but don’t reciprocate?”
“Weasel?”
“Weasel.” Phil nodded. “There’s definitely something subversive about it all. You cook for me, just to soften me up, then charm the most embarrassing stuff out of me.”
He couldn’t help but smile and shake his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever been accused of weaseling before.”
“Because your friends are too chicken to tell you the truth—” her tone turned cutting “—or because this behavior is something special, just for me?”
He had hurt her, again, without meaning to do so. She hid it well but not well enough to fool him. “Phil, don’t go making this into more than it is...”
“More than murder?” She lifted her chin and charged on even as he winced at the word. “How am I supposed to know what the real story is? Maybe you’re lying to me about the cash in your wallet—maybe you did plan ahead to not need a bank machine. Maybe you did kill Lucia and I’m ending up being accessory after the fact for letting you stay here.”
He gave her a hard look, willing her to agree. “You don’t believe I killed her.”
But Phil wasn’t going to play by his rules now. “Maybe I won’t tell you whether or not I do.”
She tossed her hair and turned around, flicking her foot in a way that she
probably didn’t know made him want to pounce on her. He shoved a hand through his hair and leaned his head back, closing his eyes for a heavenly moment. She had to be the most determined woman he’d ever met.
She certainly didn’t take no for an answer as easily as most.
And oh, she had him tied up in knots.
“Phil, you wouldn’t let me stay here if you had the slightest suspicion against me.” He spoke more reasonably than he felt, her agreement more important to him than he liked to admit. “You’re too sensible for that.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”
He rummaged around and came up with an excuse that sounded somewhat plausible. The truth was something he didn’t even want to think. “We’re so different that I’m curious about you, that’s all. You don’t have to answer any question I ask if you don’t want to.”
“Bull.” She sat down on the other end of the couch, making it bounce slightly and he looked sideways at her. She had that stubborn expression he knew better than to trust, though she didn’t look as angry. Mutinous maybe. Had he ever met a woman who grabbed his attention and held on as effectively as Phil?
His tired brain wondered whether he’d been running from more than he had thought when he left Rosemount all those years ago.
“It’s just the opposite,” she argued. “We’re so much the same that you’re curious.”
That made him sit up and take notice. “How do you figure that?”
She ticked her points off on her fingers. “We both had to start our own businesses, we both decided against going to college, we both bucked our family’s expectations. We’re both proud of what we accomplished. Though you’re more of an environmental nut than me, neither one of us wants the usual suburban comfort package.”
He hadn’t known that about her until just now. He straightened slightly, intrigued.
She leaned closer, her eyes shining, that little smile tempting him to take just one taste. “But I can’t ever imagine selling off my business, Nick, because it’s part and parcel of who I am and what I love. And you’re exactly the same way. You still love traveling, and don’t tell me you don’t because I’ll know it’s a lie.”
The fact that she had seen through him should have made him feel more edgy than he did.
He wasn’t going to think about that just now.
“I’m starting to miss it again,” he conceded warily. “But the rest is unimportant.”
The look she gave him was scathing. “How dumb do you think I am?”
He almost smiled. “Not very.”
“Gullible, then? Fat Philippa was a sap, but I like to think I’ve gotten over that.”
He did smile then. “You’re trusting, Phil. You see the good in people, probably more than they deserve. It’s very sweet.”
She blushed a bit and he decided it was a good thing that she was keeping her distance. He certainly would have lost sight of his noble urges if she was close enough that he could snag her hand.
“Well, I didn’t get that from my family,” she mumbled, clearly embarrassed. She pleated the acres of flannel between her fingers. “They won’t take anything on faith.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
She looked up as pertly as a little bird. “What do you think my mother is going to ask me about you on Saturday? You know, when she drags me into the kitchen to get all the nitty gritty details.”
He hadn’t thought of that. “I have no idea.”
“She’ll want to know what you do, where your money comes from, where you’ve been for the past fifteen years.”
“So, tell her I run an adventure travel company.” He shrugged. “It was true two months ago.”
Phil shook her head and the light glinted golden in her auburn hair. “But not now. I’m a lousy liar, Nick, and I couldn’t compose a story on the spot to save my life.” She sat back, so pleased with herself that it was hard not to smile. “You’re just going to have to tell me the truth, that’s all there is to it.” She snapped her fingers. “Cough it up.”
“Just so you don’t blow our cover?”
“Mmm hmm.” Her smile was pure mischief, the glint in her eyes triumphant. That look alone brought his simmering blood right to the boil. He was thinking of naked skin and legs tangled together, of Phil beneath him, sweet and hot and welcoming.
He was thinking about that kiss and wondering why the hell he’d stopped.
Which was exactly what he shouldn’t be thinking. He knew why that was a bad road to travel. But the sensible part of him wasn’t getting a lot of air time right now. He reminded himself that he’d screwed up many things and he didn’t want to mess this friendship up too. Following primal urges would hurt Phil in a way she didn’t deserve.
He frowned and dragged his thoughts back to their conversation.
The scary thing was that her argument made a certain amount of sense. Maybe she would understand better the kind of man he had become after he told her the story she wanted.
Maybe it would do the dirty work for him. He reached down and picked up his T-shirt, giving himself a moment to compose his thoughts.
He hadn’t told anyone his real reasons for finally accepting the buyout offer and he supposed it would be good to share the weight of it. And Phil, for all her cocky talk, was the most trustworthy person he had ever known. The story would go no further, a fact that reassured him, Reticent Man that he was.
Who else but Phil would have made such an accusation?
“All right, you win.”
She shook a finger at him in playful warning. “And none of this “oh I changed my mind and that’s that” crap. I want the whole story.”
“Or else what?”
She jerked her thumb towards the door.
He pretended to be shocked. “After I cooked and everything. Why do I feel so unappreciated?”
She chortled with laughter and tucked up her feet, giving him another quick view of those fabulous legs. “Hey, I’m no pushover.” She pushed one hand through her hair, leaving it rumpled. She looked young and impish and very kissable. He seriously thought about edging a little further down the couch and making her forget all about the sale of his company.
And not just because he was less than thrilled about telling the story. There was something about Phil that he was starting to suspect wouldn’t be easy to walk away from.
Much less forget. He thought about the way she’d kissed him as though she’d swallow him whole, and his jeans got even tighter.
But there was no point in making it harder to do what he knew he’d do.
He stared at the ceiling to get his mind out of the gutter. Phil seemed content to wait all night for him to find the beginning thread.
“I started the company after I’d been traveling around the world myself. I had lots of time and enough money that I didn’t have to rush, and I found a lot of places that most vacationers, even the adventurous ones, miss. The idea of helping other people see these places had been running around in my head for a while before I got to Asia.”
The words came easily once he started, and Phil didn’t interrupt. She’d always been easy to talk to, though he was only coming to remember that now.
“I lingered a long time, checking out beaches, kayaking, wandering through markets. It was beautiful and the culture was so different. I just couldn’t explore enough of it. At that time, there was almost no tourism outside of the big cities, so there was an entire world to discover.
“There are always lots of local kids willing to show you something for a price, but they’re often scam artists. I usually shrugged them off, but there was one insistent kid where tourists were pretty much a rarity. So, I gave him what he wanted—five bucks or something—and he really did take me to the most marvelous place.”
He paused for a moment, reliving that first glimpse. “It was a valley that no one would ever have found on their own. The jungle was thick and there was no path, but this kid knew the
way. One minute I was pushing through the undergrowth thinking the kid was setting me up, the next I was standing on a rock where an underground stream bubbled up. It was like stepping through a curtain, the change was that sudden. The stream flowed onward, reflecting sun and sky and untouched perfection.”
“Shangri-la,” Phil murmured.
“Something like that. It sure didn’t look real. And it was untouched. There was no sound but the birds and the running water, the hum of huge insects. I can’t even begin to describe the sheer beauty of the place. A naturalist would have had a field day.
“The river went on for about half a mile, then disappeared into the jungle again. You couldn’t walk the shoreline though—it was too choked with growth. I finally understood why we’d carried this kayak all the way in. He paddled and I rubbernecked.
“In some places the stream pooled and was as smooth as a river; in others, it gushed and gurgled over rocks. Everywhere I looked there were creatures I’d never seen before, tree frogs and birds and butterflies. It was as though we had stepped into a dream. Paradise. I must have shot eight rolls of film that day.
“Late in the afternoon, he took me back to his village. It was a shock to see how impoverished the people were, despite living near such beauty. He was so proud that he had earned that five dollar bill—I was humbled by little it meant to me in comparison. Not that I was flush in those days, but we learn to take a lot for granted.”
He looked at an avid Phil. “So it was there, in his village, that I had my idea.”
“To start an eco-tourist company?”
“Well, more importantly, to make a difference. The company was just the vehicle. This kid was willing to work, to do something. He was just itching for a chance. He had a huge family and they were getting older. Farming was subsistence at best.
“So, I made a partnership with him—though he probably thought it was bogus at the time. We set rules for visiting the Hidden Paradise—that’s what they called it—and limits as to how many people could visit a week. I wanted to make sure that it stayed as pristine and beautiful as it was, that other people felt that same joy of discovery that I had felt that day.”