Barbara.

  Jack sighed.

  And then he was going to have a talk with his sister and her husband. This matchmaking nonsense was never going to happen again.

  Chapter 9

  Kyra rocked slowly in the chair beside the crib as she watched Noah sleep.

  “Your ride to the airport is here,” whispered her aunt from the doorway.

  Kyra sighed. “I hate to leave him.”

  Her aunt came farther into the room and rested her hand on Kyra’s shoulder. “He’ll be fine. And you’ll only be away for a few days.”

  “I just miss him so much when I’m gone.”

  “I know.”

  Kyra rose from the chair and bent over the crib. For a long moment, she rested her cheek on his, then kissed him lightly. “Goodbye, sweetheart.”

  Emily followed her niece into the living room and watched as she shouldered her oversize purse.

  Through the opened front door, they could see the limousine sitting in the driveway and the uniformed driver lifting Kyra’s suitcase into the trunk.

  Kyra turned to her aunt and hugged her. “I’ll call you.”

  “Okay, dear. Have a good trip. And don’t worry about anything here.”

  Kyra smiled at her and walked out to the car. The driver inclined his head as he opened the door for her. She climbed inside the spacious car and settled into the back seat. Moments later, the driver smoothly backed out of her driveway and headed for the airport.

  The driver wasn’t talkative, and Kyra wasn’t in the mood for conversation so it was a silent ride.

  She had to admit that she was nervous about this trip, nervous about spending so much time with Jack Allessandro.

  Before she knew it, the limousine rolled to a stop on the tarmac next to a jet. The driver opened Kyra’s door and she slid out.

  “I’ll stow your luggage, Ms. Courtland.”

  “Thank you.”

  She looked at the jet for a few moments, then climbed up the stairs and boarded.

  It was nothing if not spacious. There was a table with a large platter of fresh fruit on it. Four comfortable chairs surrounded it. There was also a long couch, perfect for stretching out on, and some other seats that looked like recliners, but with tables so one could work. A VCR and television were built into a wall and there were telephones everywhere.

  Kyra moved farther into the jet and found a small but well-stocked kitchen that included a stove, microwave and refrigerator. There was even a shower in the bathroom.

  The Department of Justice didn’t have anything like this. At least nothing that they let their operatives fly in.

  Suddenly a pilot in uniform came out of the cockpit and smiled at her. “You must be Ms. Courtland.”

  “Yes.”

  He walked toward her with his hand extended. “Bill Janson, one of the pilots. We should be taking off in the next fifteen minutes.”

  “Who else is coming?” she asked.

  “Jack, of course, and Barry Chesler.”

  She looked around the cabin. “Should I sit anywhere in particular?”

  “Take your pick.”

  Kyra decided on one of the side-by-side recliners. As she peered out the window, she saw Jack arriving in one car and Barry in another.

  It was Jack she watched as he stood on the tarmac talking to Barry. He was dressed in an immaculate dark suit with a crisp white shirt.

  Barry made a sharp gesture with his hand and Kyra suddenly realized that they weren’t talking: they were arguing.

  Then Jack said something, biting out the words, and Barry, with a shake of his head, walked away from him and boarded the jet.

  Barry. was still angry, but forced a smile when he saw Kyra. “Hi,” he said as he sank into the seat beside her. “Jack didn’t tell me you were coming.”

  “Should he have?”

  “Not if he wanted to keep you to himself.”

  Kyra gave him a long look.

  Barry raised his hand in surrender. “Sorry. I was just trying to make conversation. You’re not going to slap me with a lawsuit for flirting, are you?”

  “I might if I thought you were serious. But after watching you with other women, it occurs to me that flirting is the only way you know to communicate with the opposite sex.”

  “Is there another way?”

  “Most women prefer men who speak plainly, without innuendo.”

  “Not the women I know.”

  “What about your wife?”

  “I’m the same man she married five years ago, flirtatious innuendo and all, so she must prefer men who don’t speak too plainly. You would appear to be the exception to the rule. So how do I go about talking with you, Kyra Courtland?”

  “Try a neutral topic.”

  He smiled. “Suddenly I can’t think of a thing to say.”

  “Then perhaps silence is best,” she said with a return smile.

  “Just a minute,” said Barry as he looked out the window. “Something is coming to me.” He seemed to collect his thoughts. “I’ve got it. Nice weather we’ve been having lately, don’t you think?”

  Kyra laughed out loud. “Very nice, indeed.”

  “I hope it lasts, but personally I think we’re in for more rain before the week is out.”

  “I like rain.”

  Barry nodded. “Of course you do. Everyone else likes sunshine, so you must like rain.” He sighed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You have to admit that while the weather is an innocuous enough topic, it’s boring as hell.”

  “Incredibly,” she agreed.

  “So where does that leave us?”

  “Without any conversation at all, I’m afraid.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. If I asked you how you like your job, what would you say?”

  “That I like it very much.”

  “Why? In essence, you’re just a glorified secretary .”

  “What’s wrong with that? It’s interesting. So are the people.”

  “What about the great Jack?”

  “What about him?”

  “Do the two of you get along all right? He’s not exactly overflowing with warmth and good humor.”

  Kyra turned toward Barry. “You sound as though you don’t like him very much.”

  “He’s a great guy. We just have different takes on how business should be done.”

  “I think I have a general idea of his take,” said Kyra. “What’s yours?”

  “That you get more flies with honey. Jack can be an SOB to work with—not just with his employees, but with customers.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.”

  “Because you’re too diplomatic.”

  “No. Because I don’t think it’s true. He might not have your charm, but people always know where they stand with him and I think they appreciate it.”

  “I’m sure some people do. But the bigger picture is that he chases away a lot of business.”

  “Give me an example.”

  “Don’t put me on the spot like that.”

  “You made the statement. I’m just asking you to back it up.”

  Before Barry could answer, Jack boarded the jet He nodded in their general direction as he set down his briefcase, then took off his jacket and hung it behind one of the chairs at the table.

  Kyra’s eyes followed his fingers as he loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt.

  Barry left the chair and walked over to Jack. “Are you going to work on the numbers?”

  “I should have something finished by the time we land.”

  “You’re going to have to be reasonable. If you’re not, you’ll lose the business.”

  Jack looked straight at Barry. “I’m always reasonable. But not so much that I’ll be made a fool of. Bringing tankers full of oil and scrap to Spain is one thing. Sending them back to the Middle East empty is foolish and wasteful, and that’s what we’ve had to do for the past year. If we can’t find someone who wants to ship something on the return voyage, then I say we should let the business go completely.”

  “And do what? Let the tankers sit at the docks empty?”

  “If need be.”

  Barry shook his head. “I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn about this. Things have been fine for a year, and then all of a sudden you want to make changes.”

  Jack leaned back in his seat. “And I don’t know why you’re so interested in the business end of things. That’s my job.”

  “If this is an example of the decisions you’ve been making, then maybe it’s time I get involved.”

  Jack was completely unruffled. “Barry, if you don’t want to be a part of this company anymore, I’ll buy you out.”

  “You couldn’t afford my price.”

  “Try me.”

  Barry shook his head. “Sometimes there’s no dealing with you, Jack. You think you have all the answers.”

  Kyra decided it was time to break the tension between the men. “Excuse me. Is there anything you want me to do while we’re en route to Spain?”

  Jack stared at Barry for a moment, then looked at Kyra. “Just relax for now. Read a book. We have a dinner tonight after we land, so you’re going to have a long day.”

  “I’m used to it.”

  Barry was still angry. It showed in his body language as he walked to a closet, got a pillow and blanket, then settled into the recliner next to Kyra. “I had a late night,” he said by way of explanation. “As a matter of fact, I haven’t been home yet, so excuse me while I catch a few z’s.”

  And just like that, before the plane had left the ground, he was sound asleep.

  Kyra watched Jack as the plane taxied down the runway. He was sitting at the table, his sleeves rolled halfway up his strong forearms. His briefcase was open, a computer not yet turned on in front of him. He was writing something on a notepad.

  He didn’t even look up as the jet took off.

  Once they were airborne, Kyra left her chair and took a seat across from him. “Are you sure I can’t help?”

  Jack raised his head. “If you really want to work, there’s always a lot to do.”

  “That’s why I’m here.”

  He turned his computer toward her. “We’re at a high enough altitude to turn it on.”

  She pressed the power button. “Now what?”

  He gave her a series of instructions that connected her with the company computer—including his password.

  She could hardly believe it.

  He had her moving in and out of files, changing things here, corresponding there, E-mailing employees, writing letters. They worked steadily for several hours.

  Finally Jack leaned back in his seat and stretched his arms over his head. “Let’s take a break,” he said as he rose and headed for the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Diet soda.”

  “Not a coffee drinker, are you?”

  “Can’t stand it. How did you know?”

  “I’ve never seen a cup on your desk.” He disappeared for a minute, then returned with two sodas and one glass with ice. “Barbara lives on coffee.”

  Kyra popped open her can and she poured its contents into her glass. “How did she like the bracelet?”

  Jack took a long drink out of the can as he looked out the window. “Considering it was a goodbye gift, I think she liked it well enough.”

  “Oh,” said Kyra in surprise. “I wasn’t aware of that when you asked me to buy it.”

  “Neither was I. That’s just the way it worked out.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m not.”

  He set down the can and leaned forward. “Let’s get back to work.”

  And they did, all the way to Barcelona.

  At the airport, the three of them deplaned then immediately climbed onto a helicopter and flew to Costa Azul, where they landed on the roof of an absolutely beautiful hotel on the Mediterranean.

  “Why aren’t we staying in Barcelona?” asked Kyra as Jack helped her from the helicopter. “That’s where your freighters are.”

  “Because this is nicer. Cleaner. I’ll visit the shipyards tomorrow.”

  “Am I going on that trip?”

  “It’s not necessary, but you can, if you like.”

  “I would like to. Thank you.”

  They didn’t even have to check in. They simply took a private elevator to the ground floor. It opened into a private bungalow.

  “I keep a place here permanently,” Jack said by way of explanation as they walked from the large foyer into the main living area where there was an open bar and kitchen. It was light and airy, full of sunshine.

  Barry crossed the room and walked ahead of them through a pair of double doors that led to a bedroom. “That’s where Barry sleeps,” said Jack. “I’m over there.” He pointed at another set of double doors. “And Ms. Hanover slept there,” he said as he pointed at yet another set of doors. “I assume you’ll have no problem with staying here.”

  “Of course not.”

  “Good. I also have an office here, but I rarely use it.” He looked at his watch. “We have exactly one hour before we leave for dinner. Meet me back here in fifty-five minutes.”

  Kyra looked at her watch. “All right. Formal or informal.”

  “Something like what you were wearing the other night will be fine.”

  “How about something exactly like what I was wearing? Some of us don’t have your budget.”

  A comer of Jack’s mouth lifted. “You can wear it however often you like, Kyra.”

  She liked the way her name sounded when he said it. “I’ll see you shortly,” she said.

  Kyra went to the bedroom Jack had pointed toward. Stopping in the doorway, she looked around in appreciation. It was done in different creamy hues and natural woods with almost no contrasting colors. The result was a beautiful blend that made the room seem larger and brighter than it was. French doors led to the terrace, as they did in the living room.

  “Excuse me, ma’am,” said a man’s voice in Spanish.

  Kyra turned to find a uniformed bellhop standing in the open doorway with her suitcase.

  “Where would you like me to put this?”

  “On the bed, please.”

  He hoisted it up and turned to leave.

  “Here,” said Kyra, digging into her purse for some money.

  “No,” he said with a bow. “Please. It has all been taken care of.”

  She put her money back. Jack. He took care of everything.

  Kyra took a quick shower. Then, wrapped in a towel, she opened her French doors and let the breeze from the sea lift the filmy drapes and send them billowing into the room.

  She could learn to live like this.

  Humming softly to herself, she opened her suitcase and unpacked, hanging her skirt suits neatly in the closet and her three dinner dresses, still in their cleaning bags, next to them.

  Jeans, a sweater, pajamas and underwear went into her drawer.

  Then she unpacked her toiletries.

  Kyra reapplied what little makeup she usually wore, then pulled her silky hair away from her face and into its usual neat twist. But tonight she playfully pulled a few strands loose and let them frame her face and curl on the back of her neck.

  She decided on the black mandarin dress she’d worn before because she felt like wearing black and it was the only black dress she’d brought. And, just like before, she couldn’t get it zipped all the way.

  Jack was going to have to help her again.

  When she had on her high heels, Kyra looked herself over in the full-length mirror. Elegantly businesslike. Exactly what she wanted.

  Leaving her purse behind, she opened her door and walked into the main living area. At first she thought that Jack wasn’t there, but then she saw him through the open French doors, leaning on the railing of the terrace, looking out at the sea.

  Kyra came up behind him. “Nice view.”

  Jack nodded without looking at her.

  “Why don’t you live here all the time?”

  “My family is in Chicago.”

  She understood perfectly.

  Jack turned his head and smiled when he saw what she had on. “You weren’t joking.”

  “I like this dress,” she said defensively.

  Straightening away from the railing, he turned her around. With a gentle tug, he zipped up the dress the rest of the way. “How do you usually get out of it?” he asked, amused.

  “My aunt helps me.”

  “Not this time.”

  “I guess I’ll have to depend on the kindness of strangers—or sleep in it, one or the other. Who are we having dinner with tonight?”

  “Jose Zamora and his son, Franco.”

  Kyra involuntarily winced.

  “Do you know them?”

  “The son more than the father.”

  “It doesn’t sound as though it’s a happy acquaintance.”

  “I offered Franco friendship, and he wanted something more. It took a long time for him to turn his interest in other directions. And even then I had to lie about being involved with someone else.”

  “If he bothers you tonight, tell me and I’ll take care of it.”

  And Kyra knew he would.

  “Shall we go?”

  “What about Barry?” she asked as they went inside and headed for the elevator.

  “Coming!” said Barry as he closed his doors and fell into step behind them.

  They went up one floor to the main lobby and walked straight through to a limousine that was waiting in the drive.

  Kyra climbed in first.

  Barry sat beside her and Jack across from her.

  She gazed out the window as they traveled inland, away from the water, but she was intensely aware of Jack’s eyes on her the entire trip.

  They stopped about fifteen minutes later at a small but elegant-looking restaurant.

  Jack climbed out first and took Kyra’s hand to help her.

  She looked up at him as she stepped out. “Thank you.”

  He unsmilingly inclined his dark head.

  As soon as they walked inside, the maître’d greeted both Jack and Barry by name and offered Kyra a polite nod. “Your guests have already arrived,” he said as he showed them into the dining room, guiding them around the heavily occupied dance floor to a rear table that was more quiet and private than the others.

 

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