Читать книгу: «Hollywood Wedding»

PROLOGUE

ZACH hadn’t been sure which he wanted most, the woman or the mountain.

The woman had been watching him last night, sitting at a corner table in the inn’s lounge and giving him long, slow looks from under her lashes. There’d been no mistaking the message, but after a minute Zach knew it was no contest.

She was beautiful, but the world was full of beautiful women. The mountain was the challenge, all seven thousand, snow-covered feet of it. It would come first.

So he’d smiled back, told the bartender to send her a drink and lifted his glass to her before finishing the last of his brandy. Then he’d strolled toward the door, pausing beside her table.

“Here for the weekend?” he’d asked and when she’d nodded in assent, he’d smiled. “Alone?”

Her tongue had slicked across her lips. “No,” she’d murmured, “but that won’t stop you, will it?”

Zach had felt his body tighten in anticipation.

“Tomorrow evening,” he’d said softly, and then he’d gone to his room, taken a long, cold shower and turned his thoughts to the next day.

Now, as he undid his bindings and stepped out of his skis, he knew he’d made the right choice. His hands were numb with the cold that had managed to seep through his Gore-Tex gloves, his lungs cried out for more oxygen, and every muscle in his body ached.

He felt terrific.

A smile eased across his face, softening the hard, handsome angles and chiseled features.

He could see the copter approaching, skimming up the windswept Himalayan valley like a prehistoric bird, and he pumped a fist high into the air as it began its descent.

The Valley of the Gods had turned out to be perfect, exactly as Elise had promised. Zach grinned, remembering the conversation with his travel agent the week before.

He’d phoned her from the chartered jet, halfway between a dull breakfast meeting at the Boston Club and a duller luncheon appointment at Windows on the World atop the towering World Trade Center in New York.

“I want to get away for a couple of days,” he’d said without preamble. His administrative assistant had shoved a stack of papers under his nose. Zach had switched the phone to his other ear while he scrawled his initials on the pages. “Got any suggestions?”

Elise, who’d been dealing with Zach long enough to know exactly what the question meant, had instantly offered several in the British accent she still cultivated after better than forty years in the States.

What did he think of rock climbing in Yosemite? Rafting in Idaho? Sky diving in British Columbia?

“No,” Zach had said to each idea, “no, no. I want— I want…Just keep on going,” he’d said in exasperation.

Elise had rattled off more proposals while the jet banked over Manhattan’s narrow canyons. Zach had listened, frowning as he gazed out the window, picturing himself in an hour’s time seated at a table with half a dozen men twenty years his senior who’d pretend they’d really choose grilled tuna and braised radicchio over the rare steaks and butter-dripping baked potatoes their highpriced cardiologists had made them swear off forever, who’d talk stocks and bonds and investments with the appetite and passion most men reserved for women.

Something had knotted in Zach’s flat belly.

“Helicopter skiing,” he’d said into the phone, cutting short Elise’s description of windsurfing in the Caribbean. “Yeah, I know I’ve done it before, but that was in the Canadian Rockies or maybe it was Alaska. Where? The Himalayas?” For the first time in days, Zach had smiled. “Okay, babe,” he’d said, “that sounds good. Let’s go for it.”

Now here he was, on the far side of the world with a glacier and a mountain all to himself. With half a dozen glaciers and mountains all to himself, and nothing to remind him of the world he’d left behind, the telephones and fax machines and computers, the fat cats and fatter corporations that increasingly demanded his expertise and his time in a game that had grown dull.

Zach puffed out his breath. Here he was, as free as he’d been seven years ago, before he’d let the world suck him in, before he’d traded risk for wealth and freedom for the disaster that had been his marriage, and it felt damned wonderful.

Two hundreds yards away, the copter was settling to the earth in a whirling blizzard of rotor-driven snow. The pilot would probably want to take off right away, considering the lateness of the hour, the bitter cold and the omnipresent danger of avalanche.

Zach knew he’d pushed things to the edge as it was, fast-talking the guy into leaving him on the top of the mountain with nothing but his equipment, an avalanche transceiver, a flask of hot coffee and a couple of thick sandwiches for company.

“I dunno,” the pilot had said, scratching his head, “most people go up there with a guide.”

But Zach had persisted. The day he couldn’t talk his way into or out of a situation hadn’t dawned yet. He’d presented his skiing credentials as he would have presented a block of blue-chip stocks for the president of a multibillion-dollar bank and finally the man had shrugged, muttered something about it being Zach’s neck, not his, revved the engine, increased the pitch of the blades and left him to the gods and the mountain.

The day had been incredible. And, Zach thought with a start of surprise as he scrambled into the copter, it wasn’t over yet.

Someone was waiting for him. It was the woman from last night, dressed in a skintight spandex ski suit that showed off every inch of her lush body.

Zach smiled as he sat down beside her and put his lips to her ear so he could be heard over the noise of the copter.

“What a pleasant surprise.”

She smiled back “I thought it would be.”

At least that was what he thought she said. It was impossible to hear, but then, what did a man really need to hear when he was gazing into a pair of thickly fringed amber eyes set above a deliciously turned-up nose and a pouting mouth?

She moved closer, lay a scarlet-tipped hand on his arm and brought her lips to within a breath of his ear.

“I hope you don’t mind. I talked your pilot into taking me along while he collected you.”

Zach’s smile tilted as her thigh settled gently against his.

“Mind? Hell, no. I’m delighted.” The helicopter rose into the air and Zach leaned closer. “My name is—”

“You’re Zachary Landon. I know.” She smiled. “I’m Keri.”

Zach drew back so he could look at the soft, smiling mouth that promised paradise, at the high thrust of the breasts that made a man’s hands ache to touch them. A surge of desire flooded through him and he pulled the woman into his arms and kissed her.

A man would have to be crazy to turn down a woman like this. She was beautiful and she would sleep with him simply because she enjoyed it. She wasn’t like his ex-wife, who used sex for gain. And if she didn’t believe in fidelity any more than the former Mrs. Landon had, at least she hadn’t taken any vows pretending she did.

Keri’s hand began to trace a path up his thigh. Zach caught her fingers in his, and she gave him a slow, dazzling smile before she arched toward him and put her lips to his ear again. Her breath danced along his skin.

“He’s gone,” she said. “I sent him away.”

There was no need to ask who, or what, she was talking about. Zach smiled as he brushed his lips against hers.

“Good,” he said, his mouth against the pink shell of her ear, “just so long as you understand that I’ll be gone, too, in a week.”

Her smile was sexy, her fingers cool as she clasped his face in her hands and drew it close to hers.

“But what a memorable week it’s going to be,” she said.

Zach kissed her again, more deeply this time, and then he drew her close and gazed out the open door as the helicopter swept across the valley.

Today, he had claimed the mountain. Tonight, he would claim the woman. And if he was lucky, he would not tire of either until it was time to return to the real world. He would go back to Boston, to the house on Beacon Hill and to the brokerage firm that bore his name.

Any man not satisfied with all that was nothing but a fool.

Thirteen hours and another world away, Eve Palmer yawned as she made her way across the dark, silent courtyard of her Los Angeles apartment complex to her front door.

It was two in the morning and she was tired to the bone.

She had risen before six, fought the freeway traffic in her beautiful but ailing sports car and taken the first of a day’s worth of meetings at eight. Ten hours later, she’d grabbed a sandwich while she viewed the dailies of Triad’s current movie-in-progress, a dog of a film she’d inherited from her predecessor.

At nine o’clock she’d fixed her makeup, slapped a smile on her face and gone to a cocktail party. At eleven, she’d let Dex Burton, Hollywood’s newest up-and-coming macho male lead, whisk her off for a late-night supper so they could talk business. At least, that was what Dex had claimed.

Eve made a face as she jabbed her key into the lock of the front door and stepped into her tiny living room. But the only business Dex had wanted to do was in bed.

“You give a little, you get a little, lover,” he’d said, flashing her a toothy grin.

It had infuriated her but it hadn’t surprised her. She’d learned the lesson early, that men saw nothing wrong in trading power for sex. If it was more obvious in Hollywood than it had been in foster homes back in Minnesota, it was only because Hollywood had more powerful men and beautiful women per square mile than any other place on the planet.

Eve had managed to keep smiling, to pretend she didn’t understand Dex’s sleazy message. But when his hand had slipped under the table and slid casually up her thigh, her self-control had vanished. She’d told Dex what he could do with his charm and his nonexistent talent, and now here she was, still without a lead for Hollywood Wedding, the film that would determine the course of Triad’s future, and hers.

The apartment was warm and stuffy. Eve kicked off her shoes and headed straight for the air conditioner, sighing as the first cool blast came sweeping through the vents.

A shower, then bed, she thought as she took off her jacket. It wasn’t just the long day that had tired her, it had been standing around at that cocktail party, putting on a bright face to convince the world that rumors of Trident’s imminent demise were exaggerated.

At least the other rumors had eased off, the ones that had plagued her after fate had brought Triad into her life.

No. That wasn’t quite accurate, Eve thought as she undressed. It wasn’t fate that had handed her the top spot at Triad. It was Charles Landon, and that was why the rumors had flown.

Struggling film-production companies were as common as crabgrass, but for a multimillionaire to put a woman at the head of such a company when she had never held that kind of job before—that wasn’t common at all.

That Charles had done it on little more than a whim was something the rumormongers couldn’t comprehend. In her better moments, Eve had to admit it was hard to blame them. She’d had trouble comprehending it herself, she thought as she pulled the clips from her hair.

Her chin lifted in an unconscious gesture of defiance as a cascade of pale golden curls tumbled down her back.

But her relationship with Charles had been strictly business. She had not wangled responsibility for Triad from an old man in some cheap game played out between satin sheets. She had simply been in the right place at the right time, and Charles had taken it from there.

Sometimes she’d been tempted to stand up in a place like Spago’s, bang on a water glass and announce that to the world.

But she never had.

One of life’s most painful lessons was that denying a lie sometimes only gave it the aura of truth.

Eve had learned that at seventeen, when her foster father had tried to molest her. After months of complaining, someone had finally believed her. Eve had almost wept with relief, but it had been short-lived. Her foster father had pointed an accusing finger at her and convinced his wife and the social worker that it was Eve who’d come on to him.

No, Eve thought as she switched on the bathroom light, no, there was no point in denying the rumors about Charles and her. Ignoring them had been the right thing. The whispers had faded, then died—to be replaced by whispers about Triad and speculation about how long the company would take to fail.

But it wasn’t going to fail. She wouldn’t let it. Hollywood Wedding would save Triad, Eve was sure of it. All she needed was the right cast and location…

The breath sighed from her lungs. All, she thought with a little laugh, all.

Eve lifted her head and looked into the bathroom mirror. Her weary smile faded as she met her own cooleyed gaze. She could do it. She would do it. Charles Landon had handed her a once-in-a-lifetime chance, and she wasn’t going to let it slip away.

Absolutely nothing, and no one, was going to keep her from succeeding.

Deep in the Himalayas, Zach and Keri entered the inn.

“I’ll meet you in the lounge for drinks and dinner after I’ve showered,” he said, with a little smile.

Keri linked her arms around his neck.

“Wouldn’t you rather shower in my room?” she whispered “I’ll phone down for champagne, and——”

“Mr. Landon?” Zach turned. The innkeeper stood a few feet away, his expression solemn. “Sir, this just came for you over the wireless.”

Zach smiled as he took the message from the man’s outstretched hand.

“Don’t look so down in the mouth, Patel. Unless it’s my office wiring me that the market’s crashed…” His voice faded to silence as he scanned the slip of paper again. When he looked up, his smile was gone. “Hell,” he said softly.

Keri frowned. “What’s the matter?”

Zach ignored her. “I’ll need access to your wireless,” he said sharply to the innkeeper. “And I’ll expect the copter to be ready to leave in five minutes.”

“Of course, Mr. Landon. I’m terribly sorry, sir. May I offer my condolences?”

“Zach?” The woman’s voice called after him as he hurried up the stairs. “What’s happened? Where are you going?”

He paused at the top of the steps and looked down at her, his expression blank. Her name had gone clear out of his head.

“Sorry,” he said, “but I’m afraid our plans are off.”

A pout spread across her pretty face. “What do you mean, off? You said——”

“I’ve got to fly back to the States. I just got word that my old man died.”

“Oh. Oh, I’m so sorry.”

She waited. Zach knew he was supposed to show something, to feel something. But it was too late for that. It was years too late.

All there was time for now was the long journey home.