“It will work out,” she said vaguely.
“When Brandon McClure decides that he’s tired of sponging off his ex-wife.”
She was tired and her voice was bitter. “I don’t see that it’s any concern of yours what happens to Brandon. It won’t affect my decision to sell Festival Productions one way or the other, and that’s why I’m here, remember?”
“Is it?” he asked in a throaty whisper. With one long finger he traced the length of her bare arm and a shiver of anticipation darted down her spine.
His embrace became more possessive, and his eyes drilled into the mystery of hers. “Tell me again,” he persuaded, “why you’re here.”
With a surrendering sigh, she leaned heavily against him. “I’m here because I want to be,” she admitted, listening to the steady cadence of his heart. This is where I belong, she thought, alone with Kyle in the night, letting him hold me.
“Come on,” he whispered. “Let’s go to bed.”
His arms supported her as they walked through the door and back into the warmth of the rambling hacienda.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“I WANT YOU TO MARRY ME.”
Kyle’s voice was the first sound she heard as she awoke. Maren opened her eyes and stared into the dark gaze of the man she loved. She smiled and stretched.
“I thought we weren’t going to discuss marriage.”
“Only because you’re so damned independent.” Kyle sat up in the bed and ran his hand over the stubble of his beard.
“Should I consider that a compliment?” she teased.
“Damn it, Maren, I’m serious. I want you to marry me and live with Holly and me here in La Jolla.” His tanned brow was creased and his coffee-colored hair, streaked from the sun, was rumpled. He clasped his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. “I’ve been thinking about this all night. It’s the only answer.”
“And what about my work?”
“We could handle it here.”
“I don’t think—”
“Sure, we’ll have to be in L.A. once or twice a week to supervise what’s going on, but there’s no reason you can’t work out your ideas and those sketches here.”
“There’s a lot more to it than that,” she stated, trying to quiet her racing heart. Kyle had asked her to marry him! It was what she wanted most, and yet it couldn’t be. Not now. “I’m involved with the actual shooting of the sequences and some of the editing, not to mention hiring the actors, renting the soundstages…”
“But don’t you have people who can supervise that sort of thing?”
“To some extent…”
“And once you’ve sold the company, things will be that much easier,” he suggested.
His words had the effect of salt on an open wound. She stiffened in the bed. “Elise advised me against talking with you or anyone from Sterling Records about the offer, until we can come to some sort of an agreement.”
He looked at her as if she were out of her mind. “And just how are we supposed to do that if we don’t discuss the offer?”
“Elise thought she could straighten things out with Bob Simmons.”
“And then he’ll want to discuss it with me, in private. It doesn’t make a hell of a lot of sense, Maren. We can wrap this thing up this morning.” He turned to face her. “I thought you were the kind of woman who made her own decisions.”
“I am.”
“Then why the hell do you have to rely on Ms. Conrad?”
“Because she’s my attorney!”
“Do you really think I would try to pull a fast one on you?” His silvery eyes impaled her. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Kyle, this has nothing to do with trust…it’s business!”
She rolled over and started to get up, but he caught her wrist, forcing her back on the bed. “This is not business…not anymore…this is us.”
“You’re clouding the issue.”
“And you’re avoiding it!”
She jerked her hand free of his grasp and got out of bed. “Maybe you’re right,” she allowed, struggling into his bathrobe and seating herself in a chair across the room. She stared at him with intense indigo eyes as she brushed her hair away from her face with her fingers and crossed her shapely legs. “You want to talk business? What about right now?”
“Fine with me.” He rolled off the bed and pulled on a pair of khaki-colored jeans.
“Why don’t you start by telling me exactly what you have in mind for Festival, if I decide to sell?”
“It’s in the offer…”
“Refresh my memory.”
“Only the ownership will change. You can still run the operation any way you wish, with the exception that Festival will be in the same building as the record company and you’ll spend most of your time working from the library here.”
She arched her eyebrows elegantly. If only she could believe that his proposal of marriage had nothing to do with his desire for the company. He’d married once to promote his career. Would he marry again to bolster the income of Sterling Records? Dear Lord, she hoped not!
“I’ll pay you a fair price for your company,” Kyle said, breaking into her thoughts “Even Elise has agreed about that.”
Maren nodded, tapping the tips of her fingernails on the arm of the chair.
“I’ve been honest with you, Maren. I need your talent as well as your company. Elise mentioned that you wanted a three-year employment agreement. It’s yours. As far as I’m concerned, you’re the talent behind Festival Productions. Without you, Festival is just another production company, and they’re a dime a dozen.” He sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes holding her unwavering blue gaze. Resting his forearms on his thighs, he stared at her. “We can work together,” he said softly, “after we’re married.”
She tried to speak but couldn’t find her voice. She had to shift her gaze away from his penetrating stare. “You tried that once before,” she reminded him. “It didn’t work with Rose.”
“Rose has nothing to do with this!” Every muscle in his body became rigid. “Haven’t you been listening to what I just said?”
“I’m trying, Kyle,” she replied, her voice wavering and tears filling her eyes “Dear God, I’m trying.”
“Then hear what I’m saying. I want you to be my wife, and it has nothing to do with also wanting the production company.” His dark gaze grew deadly, and the lean muscles in his forearms flexed. “I made a mistake with Rose, and I’ll be damned if I ever make that same mistake again. I want you to live with me because I don’t want to live without you. I love you, Maren.”
The tears pooling in her eyes began to run down her cheeks. How long she had waited to hear those words, and how desperately she wanted to believe them. He stood and unhurriedly walked across the room. “Can’t you see how much you mean to me?” Lowering himself to one knee he touched her shoulders. As she stared into his brooding eyes she thought she would like to drown in his gaze. Her love for him was overpowering, and she could never find it in her heart to tie him down with a marriage he didn’t want.
“Maren, please marry me,” he said. His fingers slid under the folds of the robe and his thumbs moved seductively over her soft skin. How easily he could coax her.
“I don’t want to rush into anything” she replied quietly, hoping to stop the tears streaming down her face. “This is the eighties. We don’t have to get married.”
“Unless we want to.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to marry you,” she reassured him, softly touching his chin. “I just need a little time to think it over.”
His smile was wistful. “All right,” he agreed reluctantly. “Now let’s go downstairs, and you can tell me how far you’ve come on the Mirage videos.”
“We’re going to work at this hour of the morning? It’s Saturday.”
“I’ve got to convince you that you can live here and still do your work,” Kyle reminded her. “And I’ve only got a couple of days to prove it.”
/> Wiping away her tears, she laughed. “Give me a couple of minutes to shower and change, fix me a huge breakfast and then I’ll get to work.”
“Lady,” he responded with a widening grin. “You’ve got yourself a deal!”
SATURDAY AND SUNDAY PASSED too quickly, and Maren realized that she was beginning to feel a part of Kyle and his intimate family. Holly’s hostilities slowly evaporated, and Lydia seemed elated that Maren was in the house. During the day Kyle took Holly and Maren sailing, and in the evenings they walked along the beach.
The meals were a time of laughter and warmth, especially when Lydia was able to stay and sample her own talents. Everything the elderly woman prepared was superb, and Lydia positively beamed when Maren insisted on helping her in the kitchen in order to discover the secrets of Lydia’s culinary skills.
If Holly disapproved of her father’s relationship with Maren, she managed to hide it. Several times the young girl caught Kyle holding Maren in a loving embrace, but Holly only smiled at the intimate couple.
The only black spot on the remainder of the weekend occurred just before Maren left. She was packing her clothes into her suitcase when Kyle came into the bedroom. “I hate to see you leave,” he stated, watching Maren’s movements as she leaned over the bed and folded a blouse into her bag.
“Oh, but I must,” she quipped, looking behind her and sliding a suggestive glance in his direction. “That president of Sterling Records becomes positively unglued if I’m late with anything.”
He caught the look of provocation in her eyes and noticed the way her jeans hugged her hips. “You’re going to have to marry me sooner or later,” he responded mentally calculating how long it would take to strip off her jeans.
“Why’s that?” She locked the suitcase and turned to face him, balancing herself on the edge of the bed. “And don’t give me that lame excuse of making an honest woman of me.”
He lifted his palms in mock surrender. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Well then?”
“I think it would be best for all of us.”
The laughter in her eyes faded. “I don’t think Holly would appreciate me stepping into her mother’s shoes.”
Kyle strode across the room, pushed the suitcase off the bed and sat next to Maren. His gray eyes held hers in a smoky embrace. “Holly adores you…”
“She tolerates me.” Maren let out an uncomfortable sigh. “I’ll admit, that’s progress and a lot more than I expected, but a far cry from adoration.”
Attempting to rise, Maren felt strong hands grab her arm and pull her forcefully onto the bed. She fell onto the comforter and felt the persuasive strength of Kyle’s body stretched near hers. Her auburn hair fell away from her face in tangled disarray, and her clear indigo eyes searched his. Her skin was flushed, and Kyle knew she was the most intrinsically beautiful woman he had ever met. This one woman had changed his entire outlook on life.
“Why won’t you consider my proposal?” he demanded, his hands tightening behind her back. She felt each of his lean muscles pressed supplely against hers. His warm breath fanned her face, and though she tried to ignore it, her heart began to thud irregularly.
With all the determination she could gather, she replied. “I think it’s time for total honesty, Kyle.”
“I’d agree.”
One of her delicate dark brows cocked. “Would you?”
He smiled and gave her a short shake. “Out with it, woman. What’s on your mind?”
“There’s more to it than worrying about becoming a stepmother to Holly,” she admitted.
“I figured as much.”
“How much of this…proposal has to do with the buyout of Festival?” She felt his arms tighten rigidly around her.
“None.”
“Then why do I get the feeling that you’re holding something back from me…that something about Festival Productions is bothering you? If it’s not the sale, then what?” Confusion clouded her gaze, and Kyle was forced to unburden himself.
“Of course I want you to sell Festival to me, and I expect that you will, once we change the terms of the offer to satisfy Elise.” He released her slowly and propped his head on one elbow so he could study the slightest reaction on her face. “Ryan Woods thinks that he’s found a pirated copy of Mitzi Danner’s latest release.”
Maren’s eyes widened. “The video of ‘Going for Broke’?”
“Right.”
“That’s impossible,” she stated, her mind whirling. That tape was barely back from editing.
“Not according to Woods.” Was it his imagination, or did a tremor of fear darken her eyes?
“We haven’t even sent the finished product over to Sterling Records yet.”
“I know.”
Anger replaced disbelief. “So you assume that someone at Festival is ripping you off?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen the tape myself, but Ryan Woods seems pretty sure of himself, and he knows his business.”
“There must be some mistake…”
“I don’t think so.” Kyle’s voice was as calm as the steely look in his eye. “But I’m waiting to see the evidence myself…”
“Evidence?” Maren cried. “Good Lord, Kyle, you make it sound as if I’m some kind of criminal!” She pulled herself off the bed and stood up before glaring down at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted to be sure.” Dragging himself to his feet, he towered over her, accepting the anger in her gaze.
“Are you?”
“No, not yet.”
She ran trembling fingers through her hair. “But you expect to discover something,” Maren guessed.
“I don’t know. I’m not certain that someone from Festival’s involved. The only thing we can do is wait until Ryan somehow finds a way to get a copy of that tape.”
“Dear God…”
“Okay, so I told you my secret,” he stated, drawing her attention back to his hard face. “What about yours?”
“I don’t have any…”
“I’m talking about Brandon.”
Every muscle in Maren’s body froze. She hadn’t expected her ex-husband to be included in the conversation. Lifting her eyes to meet his condemning gaze squarely, she managed to hide the fact that her stomach was doing somersaults. “What about Brandon?” he charged. “How long do you intend to support him?”
“Until he can get a job on his own.”
Sparks of anger lit his cold gaze. “If he wanted to be employed, I’m sure he could be.” Kyle’s lips drew into a frown of disgust. “What I’m not sure of is how badly you want to be free of him.”
Maren’s rage matched that of her attacker. “That’s a low blow, Kyle. You know that I’m only helping Brandon until he can get back on his feet again.”
“No matter how long it takes?’ Kyle charged.
“Until I know for certain that he could hold a job if he wanted to.”
Maren grabbed her suitcase and strode angrily out of the room and down the stairs. She could hear Kyle’s footsteps behind her, but she refused to turn and face his angry stare. Attempting to appear as calm as she could under the circumstances, she pushed open the kitchen door, hoping to track down Lydia and Holly so she could say goodbye.
Both Lydia and Holly were seated at the kitchen counter. A textbook was lying open-faced in front of them as they sipped lemonade and chuckled merrily to themselves. Holly began to murmur a simple phrase of butchered Spanish, and Lydia laughed so hard she had to wipe the corner of her eye with her apron.
“Dios, girl.” Lydia smiled. “Have you ever thought about studying French instead?”
Holly giggled and closed the book. “How do you say ‘I’ve had enough’?”
“What’s going on in here?” Maren asked with an interested smile.
“Lydia’s teaching me Spanish,” Holly replied, sliding her instructor a mischievous glance.
“Not me,” Lydia denounced fondly. “You’re a lost cause.”
Pretending to be miffed, Holly mumbled. “Oh, yeah, just wait. When I ace the test, guess who’ll want all the credit?”
“And I’ll deserve it,” Lydia added with a warm smile for the girl. Maren laughed, but felt a growing sadness when she realized how attached she’d become to Kyle and his small family. She heard him enter the room on her heels, and she knew that if she didn’t make her farewells hastily, she might not find the heart to leave.
“I just came to say goodbye,” she announced regretfully.
Holly’s smile faded. “Will you be coming back soon?” the girl asked, hoping to appear uninterested. Lydia’s worried gaze studied Maren, communicating the elderly woman’s concern for Kyle’s daughter.
“I don’t know,” Maren admitted honestly. The argument with Kyle was still burning in her heart. She glanced at him and penetrated his brooding stare. He cared for her. She could see it as clearly as if it were written on his face. Maren smiled and touched Holly lightly on the arm. “Of course I’ll be back, I’m just not exactly sure when…. I’ve got a job, you know.”
“Yeah, just like Mom,” Holly replied thoughtlessly.
The comment settled like lead in the room. An awkward silence followed, and Kyle’s eyes, dark as night, watched Maren intently.
Lydia nervously twirled the pencil she had been using while helping Holly study. She cleared her throat before speaking. “Are you sure you can’t stay for dinner?…There’s plenty of food.” Lydia’s dark eyes were hopeful.
“I’m sure there is,” Maren agreed. “And really I’d love to, but I just can’t. Not tonight.”
Kyle’s silence charged Maren with the lie, but she ignored him and didn’t bother to protest when he took her suitcase from her hand and held the door open for her. “This is your decision, you know. You could stay if you wanted.”
“I think we both need a little time to sort things out,” she objected. Her cool gaze held his firmly. “If you’re right about the problem at Festival, I’m going to find it.”
A look of concern crossed his face. He looked at her profile, pondering the gentle contours and the intelligent depths of her eyes. A soft sea breeze ruffled her hair, and he wished to God he could find a way to make her stay with him. In frustration he rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t go jumping off the deep end on me,” he warned. “Not until we’re sure about this thing. It might get sticky.” Together they walked outside toward Maren’s car.