Her heart did a funny little stumble-step. "Fine," she said, as if this wasn't the very first time he'd even hinted at letting her into his world.
Travis nodded. "Fine," he repeated-and told himself it really would be.
She dressed as carefully as if she were going to the board meeting of one of the corporations her father had left her, and arrived so early that she had to drive around the block for a few minutes, to kill time.
By the time she'd ridden the elevator to Travis's floor and made her way down the corridor to his office, her heart was pounding.
His secretary-Emma-greeted her with a smile.
"You must be Ms. Thorpe." She rose and extended her hand. "Mr. Baron is taking a last-minute call. Won't you sit down?"
"Thank you," Alex said politely.
She sat, picked up a magazine, made a show of thumbing through it. She looked up, met the secretary's curious gaze. The woman blushed, smiled and busied herself with something on her desk. Questions tumbled through Alex's head.
Had Emma recognized her voice? She'd known Alex's name, but what did that mean? What had Travis told her? That an Alexandra Thorpe would be stopping by? Or had he told her more? What? What would he tell her? That they lived together? How did you say something like that? What did you call a woman who lived with a man? Calling her his "date" was just plain silly but referring to her as his lover was far too intimate. Did you call her his mistress? No. A man supported his mistress. Paid her rent. Bought her clothes. Travis did none of that for her. She'd never have let him, even if she didn't have her own money. Being a mistress was completely, totally demeaning.
"Princess."
Alex shot to her feet. Travis stood in the open door to his private office. The obvious pleasure in his smile and in the way he'd spoken the name he used for her-their own, private name-put her at ease.
She smiled and came toward him, chastising herself for having had such foolish thoughts.
"Travis," she said softly.
He smiled, too, and held out his hands.
"Whoops. Sorry, Baron. I didn't know you had company."
Alex swung around. A man smiled at her from the doorway to the outer office.
"Pete." Travis frowned. "Pete, I thought you were out of town this week."
"I was, but I got back sooner than..." Pete Haskell's smile became a grin. "Wow." He hurried forward and took Alex's hand. "You're Alexandra Thorpe."
"Listen," Travis said quickly, "I'm kind of busy right now, so-"
Alex smiled slightly. "Why, yes. Have we met?"
"Not really." Haskell chuckled. "But I wish we had, that night at the bachelor thing. The auction."
Color flooded her face. "Oh."
"Yeah." Haskell winked at Travis. "Oh, indeed. You didn't tell us you were seeing Miss Thorpe, Baron."
Travis's face looked as if it had been chiseled from granite. "I don't tell you lots of things, Haskell."
"So, what's the deal? Has this been going on long?"
Alex knew her face was burning. She looked at Travis. "Has what been going on long?" he said coldly.
"You know. This. Are you guys dating, or what?"
Or what, Alex thought, and bit back a hysterical laugh.
Travis put his arm around Alex's waist. "We're late," he said, and led her past Haskell, past his secretary, and out the door. He didn't speak again until they were in the elevator. "I'm sorry about that, Princess. Haskell's a jerk."
"I thought you didn't discuss your private life at the office," Alex said stiffly.
"I don't."
"But the auction must have been quite a topic of conversation."
Travis sighed. "Yeah, it was. But the auction wasn't exactly personal."
"What happened between us was."
"Of course. I didn't mean-"
The elevator stopped. The doors opened and a gentleman with white hair and rheumy eyes stepped into the car. Travis bit back a groan.
"Travis," the man said pleasantly.
Travis nodded.
"And who is this lovely young lady?" Old man Sullivan smiled, took Alex's hand and lifted it to his lips.
"Her name is Alexandra," Travis mumbled.
"A charming name for a charming..." Sullivan pursed his lips. "Alexandra? Alexandra. Why is that name so familiar?"
The elevator stopped again. The doors whisked open.
Travis grasped Alex's hand and hurried her into the lobby. "See you tomorrow, John," he called.
Alex kept a stony silence until he steered her into a quiet corner. Then she rounded on Travis, eyes flashing, and slapped her hands on her hips.
"Everyone in that awful place knows about me," she hissed.
"Princess-"
"Don't you `Princess' me, Cowboy!" She glared at him. "What more do they know, huh? Besides the fact that I made a fool of myself, bidding on you."
"Nothing. What could they know, other than that?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Other than that I made a fool of myself, you mean?"
"No. Yes. Hell, Alex, you're the one who said it, not me!" Travis looked around. "Do we have to discuss this here? I mean, couldn't we pick someplace a little more, uh, more discreet?"
"I want an answer to my question first. What else did you tell all these people about me?" She took a deep breath. "Did you tell them what happened-what we did that night? What I-what I..."
"Dammit, Alex!" Travis grabbed her elbow and yanked her toward him, his face dark. "What kind of man do you think I am? No, I did not tell them what happened. I told you, I don't discuss my private life-"
"At work. Yes, so you said. So, how come everybody leered at me?"
"Lord!" Travis shoved his hand through his hair. "They didn't leer. They were just curious, that's all. You can hardly blame them. I mean, yeah, sure, they probably do remember that you, uh, that you made that bid at the auction. And now that they know we're dating..."
He knew he'd made a mistake as soon as the word left his mouth, but it was too late. Alex's lovely face went white.
"Dating," she said, very softly.
"Yeah." He cleared his throat. "Well, we are-kind of."
"Dating," she said again. "You and I are dating."
"Alex..."
She wrenched free of his hand, turned on her heel and marched away from him. Travis cursed and went after her, but he got caught up in a crowd at the exit door. By the time he reached the street, she was gone, but where?
He had no idea.
He drove to Malibu. She wasn't there. He drove to Thorpe House. She wasn't there, either. By ten that night, he'd put what seemed like a million miles on the car but he still hadn't found her.
He was furious and worried. Mostly furious-okay, mostly worried. Where could she have gone? And what was she so angry about, anyway? Travis sat on the deck of his beach house, the phone, a glass, and a half-empty bottle of good California Merlot on the table beside him, and glared out at the sea.
What did women want from men besides the chance to drive them nuts?
"What was I supposed to do?" he demanded of the night. "She was mad because I'd never introduced her to anybody at my office. And then, when I did, she got mad because they figured out how we'd met."
Travis poured more wine into his glass and drank it.
Women were crazy. There was no pleasing them. He'd asked Alex to move in with him. Wasn't that enough? He'd never asked a woman to live with him before, never. Not before his marriage, certainly not after.
"Dammit," he growled, picked up the phone and hit the speed-dial button for Slade's Boston number.
Slade answered on the first ring. "Hello," he snarled, "and whoever this is, I'll tell you right now, I'm not in the mood for chitchat."
"Well, neither am I," Travis snarled back.
"Trav?" Slade's voice softened a little. "Hey, man. How'd you know I needed to-"
"Tell me something," Travis said. "What the hell is the matter with the female of the species?"
Slade gave a choked laugh. "The fact that they are female. That's what's the matter with them!"
"Yeah." Travis stood up and walked down the wooden steps to the sandy beach. "There's this woman." "There always is."
"I asked her to move in with me."
"You what? Listen, man, before you do anything serious, stop and think."
"It isn't serious. I mean, okay, it's serious now. But it won't be serious forever. We have an understanding. We stay together, no strings, no commitments-" Travis took the phone from his ear and glared at it. "Damn you, kid, stop laughing!"