A Silken Thread Part 6

"Yes, but there's no telling how much longer we'll be stuck here so you might as well endure it on a full stomach."

His smile deepened and she could see that he had dimples in the same place on his face as Erica. And she couldn't help noticing how totally masculine his facial features were. He was definitely a handsome man and his pleasant att.i.tude and disposition made him even more so. If she were to guess she would say he was just a few years older than she, which would put him in his late fifties.

"I'm hoping it's not much longer, but even so, it's not going to be too bad now that I have such nice company."

She accepted his words as a compliment. Had it been any other man she would even go so far as to think that he was flirting with her. But she knew better. Wilson Sanders was a married man. The father of her son's fiancee. But still, as off-limits as he was, she still found him desirable and, for a woman who hadn't shown any real interest in a man since her husband's death fifteen years ago, that was a startling surprise.

But then, she was still a woman.

"Thanks for saying that. You know, in a few months our families will become connected through our children."

"Yes, that's true. I propose a toast," he said, holding up his coffee cup.

"And what are we toasting?" she asked, laughing, following suit and holding up hers.

"To your son and my daughter. May they have a wonderful marriage. One that's filled with love."

Rita couldn't help but smile in seeing that Wilson's att.i.tude toward the upcoming nuptials was nothing like his wife's. "Yes, to Brian and Erica."

Their cups touched and then they smiled as they took sips of their coffee.

As much as he didn't want to be, Wilson knew at that moment he was attracted to Rita. And that wasn't a good thing.

He drew in a deep breath as he looked beyond her to study the landscape outside the window. At least he was pretending to study the landscape, when in all actuality his main focus was still on her.

She looked elegant in her own sort of way, and now he knew what it was about her that he admired. Style. He found it totally hilarious that he was drawn to her for the very thing Karen thought she lacked. As far as he was concerned, she didn't need to wear all those famous name brands and designer labels that Karen boasted about. Rita made a statement in a way that he found admirable.

Even now for traveling she was wearing jeans and a printed peasant blouse. Her hair was pinned up and a pair of hoop earrings dangled from her ears. Another thing he liked about her was her positive att.i.tude. If he was a man interested in pursuing an affair with a woman he would definitely put her at the top of his list.

But he didn't have a list. He'd never had a list. He'd never had a choice of a mate, either, since one had been chosen for him before he could walk. Probably before he'd been born. It was only lately that he'd found himself reflecting over his life and realizing just how unhappy he was married to Karen. How unhappy he'd been for a long time. It wouldn't be so regrettable if there'd been any phase of their marriage he would say he'd found memorable. But sadly, he couldn't. The only good thing that had come from it was Erica. And he was determined to make sure she married for love even if he hadn't.

But with all those emotions he was now bringing forth and all the rights Karen had been denying him as a husband for years, he had not once been unfaithful to her. He had thought about it once or twice but could never go through with it. Things were as they were. He'd made his bed years ago when he'd allowed his parents to run his life and he'd been paying h.e.l.l for it since. He rubbed a hand over his brow. The entire thought was depressing. He would be sixty at the end of the year and he'd spent all of his life trying to please someone. First his parents and now his wife. Erica was probably the only person that truly loved him unconditionally.

His gaze returned to Rita. She was sipping her coffee and appeared to be lost in her own thoughts. He couldn't help wondering what they were. And, since she seemed preoccupied as he had been earlier, he allowed his gaze to travel over her. He liked what he saw too much and forced an image of Karen in his mind but it refused to come to the forefront where it belonged.

The best thing to do would be to finish off his coffee, stand up, bid her a safe trip back home and then go somewhere where he couldn't see her, where he couldn't think about her, where he couldn't wonder...

"Was this a productive trip for you, Wilson?"

Her soft voice intruded into his thoughts and broke the silence surrounding them. Their gazes held, maybe for a second too long, because she then looked away, down into her coffee cup. And then it hit him. She had picked up on the same vibes that he had picked up on earlier. And like him she was trying to ignore them. Doing so made perfect sense, since they shouldn't be having these feelings anyway. He wasn't free to act on them. But she was a widow and free to do whatever she wanted with any other man, although not with him. He was taken. Why did that realization dampen his spirits?

He leaned back and forced his brain to formulate a response to her question. "Yes, I think it was productive, and my staff will agree since I clinched a million-dollar deal."

"Congratulations."

"Thanks. What about you? Was this trip productive for you?"

She laughed. "I didn't clinch a million-dollar deal or anything close to that, but I did get a few members of the royal family to agree to consider my company when they landscape the palace grounds."

For the next twenty minutes or so they continued talking, engaging in pleasant conversation about their work. He enjoyed being educated about something he didn't know a lot about. Plants. His only excuse was that the Sanders Estates always had a gardener who knew what he was doing, which meant that Wilson didn't necessarily have to learn.

The more Rita talked the more he kept thinking that it didn't seem possible that a woman like her-smart, stylish and cla.s.sy-who had a lot going for her, had remained single after her husband died.

When there was a pause in the conversation, he heard himself asking, "Why didn't you ever remarry?"

She glanced up and looked stunned by his question. She could have said it wasn't any of his business, and it would have been within her rights to do so. Instead she said, "Patrick and I were college sweethearts and I took his death extremely hard, mainly because I hadn't seen it coming. He'd never been sick a day in his life."

She paused a moment when a waitress came by and refilled their coffee cups. "I figured he would be here forever," she then said. "I had a.s.sumed that he would always be my rock, my shining star, the man who was everything a husband and father should be. The pain of losing him was excruciating, but I had to endure it for Brian. Although I was hurting, I knew he was hurting just as much. He was very close to his father."

She took a sip of her coffee. "It was important to me not to bring another man into Brian's life that would take Patrick's place because I thought no one could. So I filled the role of both mom and dad and was satisfied with doing that."

Wilson nodded. "What about when Brian left for college?"

She shrugged what he thought were beautiful shoulders. "I dated but not often, and never let anyone think it was serious. Patrick's parents tried encouraging me to go on with my life, saying that's what he would have wanted, and I know that to be true, but I couldn't date anyone else. To fill the void of Brian leaving home I decided to go back to college for my master's degree."

She lowered her head and took another sip of her coffee as if reliving those times.

"Do you date now?"

She lifted her gaze, tilted her head and studied him for a second. "Why do you want to know that?"

That was a good question. Why did he want to know the answer to that? "Curious."

He waited a heartbeat for her to ask why. Instead she said, "I go out on occasion with friends-both males and females-but that's all I want right now. Friendship. Less cluttered and complicated that way."

He was saved from having to say anything when a voice came over the speaker system. "Attention, pa.s.sengers. We regret to inform everyone that all flights have been cancelled for the next twenty-four hours. Please go to your respective airline's customer service counter for further details regarding obtaining a hotel voucher. We repeat, all flights..."

He watched as Rita stood. "I guess that means I need to go back upstairs. It was good seeing you and I hope that-"

"The announcer said we're stuck here for twenty-four hours. Would you like to join me for dinner somewhere?" he asked as he stood.

She began shaking her head even before he could get all the words out of his mouth. "Thanks, but no. I'm just going to stay in my room and relax. It was good seeing you again, and I hope you have a safe trip back home."

"You, too."

He watched her hurry across the floor toward the escalator as if fire was nipping at her heels. Evidently his line of questions had made her uncomfortable. Understandably so. He'd really had no right asking them. But it was something he wanted to know. Something he needed to know.

He walked to get information from his own airline, in the opposite direction from where she had gone. At least they had offered them a hotel room. He wished he could say he intended to relax, as Rita had indicated she was going to do, but he couldn't. After checking in to the hotel he planned on going out and finding the nearest bar to wash away these emotions, which he shouldn't be having in the first place.

As he stepped onto the escalator that would carry him down to his gate, he thought that a gla.s.s of scotch later sounded pretty d.a.m.n nice.

Rita glanced around her hotel room a moment before tilting her head back, closing her eyes and drawing in a deep breath. She inhaled the scent of cinnamon and all but licked her lips at the thought of all the goodies in the bakery across the street. An image of her enjoying any sort of pastry with a cup of coffee made a silly grin form on her face. She immediately opened her eyes when images of something else flashed across her brain...or should she say someone else.

Wilson Sanders.

She could admit in private that she liked him a little too much. She had begun feeling things she should not be feeling. The man was married, for heaven's sake, and he was her son's future father-in-law. Then why did she-a woman known to be more interested in the positioning of yucca plants than men-find herself so attracted to him?

When he smiled, funny feelings would erupt in her midsection. Even when he did something as simple as shrug his ma.s.sive shoulders, she was consumed by emotions she hadn't felt in a long time. And that in itself wasn't good. She felt completely out of her element around him, while at the same time she felt like a real woman for the first time in years. A woman with primitive urges and true yearnings. That would be all well and good if the object of her attention wasn't who he was.

She closed her eyes and tilted her head back again, wishing the features of another man would pop into her head. She'd met several on her Sweden trip. No such luck.

She opened her eyes, deciding she had done the right thing in turning down Wilson's invitation to dinner. She'd never respected women who were involved with married men. Marriage vows were sacred and were meant to be forever. For the time being, until she could sort out in her mind why she was being pulled in a direction she would rather not go, she would keep a safe and comfortable distance from Wilson.

Her stomach made a growling sound and she remembered she hadn't eaten anything since the sandwich she'd had with coffee earlier. The meal she'd shared with Wilson. Not wanting to think of anything a.s.sociated with Wilson at the moment, she decided to appease her stomach, while at the same time enjoying her extra night in Stockholm.

She remembered the receptionist at the front desk had mentioned that Stockholm's most popular restaurant/night club was in walking distance of the hotel. Maybe a night out on the town was what she needed. When was the last time she'd done such a thing? Probably last year when she and her best friend, Lori Spencer, had gone out for Lori's fiftieth birthday. She hoped there wouldn't be nude men dancing in front of her face tonight.

She smiled when she thought of Lori. Her best friend topped the list of those who felt she was wasting a lot of her years not having a man in her life. Of course that would be a natural a.s.sumption for Lori to make, since she seemed to breathe men. Divorced by choice, Lori thought men were put here for women to enjoy. But Rita knew that, even as open and brazen as Lori was, she'd never become involved with a married man.

But then, Rita wasn't talking about an involvement with Wilson. Things would never go that far. She was having issues with the fact that she was attracted to him in the first place-something she knew Lori would say was normal. Maybe Lori would be right. The attraction was harmless. In fact, when they saw each other again, which probably wouldn't be until the actual wedding, whatever vibes they'd felt earlier would probably be out of their systems. Gone and forever forgotten. She certainly hoped so. Otherwise, seeing him again could prove to be an uncomfortable situation.

A short while later, after she had showered and dressed, she checked herself in the mirror. She didn't look bad for a woman her age.

She grabbed her purse and headed out. The night was young and alive and she intended to enjoy it.

"What are we having tonight, sir?"

"Let's start with scotch on the rocks. You can bring a menu later."

"Yes, sir."

Wilson leaned back in his chair while watching members of the band he a.s.sumed would be performing for the evening set up their musical equipment onstage. He then glanced around at the club from his table in the back where the lights were dimmed.

This club had come recommended by the staff at the hotel where he was staying. After dealing with business all week, he needed to unwind and thought coming here would do the trick. Besides, he needed a drink.

It didn't take long for the waiter to return with Wilson's scotch. He wasted no time taking a swallow of it.

He needed the night alone and the drink to think about what had happened earlier with Rita. She had done the right thing in not accepting his invitation to dinner. Although he'd meant it sincerely, they both knew there was more between them than either of them wanted. It wasn't a good situation for either of them to be caught up in. They were adults, and expectedly, a lot wiser. Smart enough to ward off any circ.u.mstances that could lead to a mistake.

Rita was a beautiful woman, and as a man who could not only recognize beauty but appreciate it as well, he couldn't help finding her desirable. His being married had nothing to do with it. Beautiful women attracted normal men.

But in his case there was more to it than that. Sometimes he wondered just how "normal" he was. He'd been married for thirty years yet he hadn't made love to his wife in over twenty. She had turned him down each and every time he had made an attempt. He'd tried to romance her, entice her with getaways, and every time she had flatly refused him, saying she didn't need s.e.x in her life.

He knew his wife was too selfish to care about the possibility that he did need s.e.x and might go where he could to find it. But he had never given betraying her that way any thought, although he'd had had several opportunities to do so.

Last year his younger brother Marshall had asked him how long he would remain in a loveless marriage. Unlike him, Marshall had married for love and it showed. It hadn't mattered to Marshall that the family had almost disowned him for marrying Swan Callahan, a woman whose family had been born on the other side of the tracks, as Karen liked to say. Marshall hadn't needed the Sanders' name or money to succeed, and today both he and Swan worked as doctors at Hattersville General and their twins were in college.

He hadn't had an answer for Marshall then and didn't have one now. However, being around Rita had made him realize that he was a man with needs. Needs he had locked away for a lifetime to be a good husband and father.

He picked up his scotch gla.s.s to take another sip when suddenly his senses became alert. Even a little edgy. The hand holding the gla.s.s tightened as he scanned the club.

And then he saw her.

Rita had entered the restaurant alone. She was looking sleek, stylish and s.e.xy in a rather sophisticated dress that hit at the knees, showing her legs. This was the first time he'd actually seen her legs and he thought they should be on display all the time.

His eyes continued to glide over her as the waitress escorted her to a table. She hadn't looked his way, but then she had no reason to, since he was seated in a darkened area in the back. To his way of thinking, this gave him an advantage. An advantage he probably had no right to be taking. He was, after all, a married man, regardless of whether he wanted to be. But then, a part of his brain kept insinuating that, married or not, there was nothing wrong with a man appreciating a beautiful woman, as long as he didn't get out of line or act on that appreciation. And he had no intentions of ever doing anything like that.

As far as he was concerned, there was no reason they couldn't enjoy each other's company over dinner tonight. However, since she had turned down his invitation to dinner earlier, he would let her dine now in peace.

Unless she looked over his way and saw him, she had no reason to know he was even here. Picking up his gla.s.s he settled back in his chair to enjoy the view.

Chapter Eight.

By the time the band broke for intermission, Rita was on her third gla.s.s of wine after dinner. For the first time in a long time she felt at ease, calm and totally relaxed. She was sure the wine had something to do with it. Not that she'd taken leave of her senses. In fact somehow the wine made her feel more alert. More attuned. Warmed to the soul.

As the lights in the club became brighter, people began moving around. Some were leaving; others were arriving. Then, there appeared to be a sudden quietness, although she could still see people buzzing about. She slowly drew a deep breath and turned her head, not sure exactly what she was looking for or expected to find. And then she saw Wilson, sitting alone at a table in the back of the club.

Their eyes met and she felt her body tense at the same time she felt shivers in the pit of her stomach. When had he arrived? She was sitting in close proximity to the entrance so there was no way he could have walked in without her noticing him. That meant he had been there all the time.

As their gazes held, his lips moved and he gave her a smile so sensual that it nearly stole her next breath. She swallowed, felt her throat getting dry and automatically took another sip of her wine.

Embarra.s.sment nearly tinted her features. He had asked her to join him for dinner and she had turned him down, using the flimsy excuse that she wanted to hang out in her hotel room and chill. Well, although she might be chilling, this definitely wasn't her hotel room. But a woman did have the right to change her mind, didn't she? Would he see it as that or would he recognize it for what it had been? A way to put distance between them.

Her heart began beating furiously in her chest as their gazes continued to hold. As she watched, he finally stood and, without disconnecting his gaze from hers, he began walking over toward her table. She could feel herself tremble with every slow and methodical step that he took. He was staring at her with the same intensity that she was staring at him. What was she going to say to him? She had failed miserably at keeping him at bay.

She cleared her throat when he came to a stop in front of her table and she had to tilt her head back to look up at him.

"Rita."

She swallowed before she managed to say, "Wilson."

"You look lovely tonight."

"Thank you."

He jammed his hands into the pockets of his pants. "Did you enjoy dinner?"

She hesitated a moment before saying, "Yes. Did you?"

He chuckled. "Funny thing, I never got around to ordering anything. I guess I was fine with my drink."