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"Well, yeah." He chuckled. "But not on the beach, where I live."
"You live on the beach?"
"Uh-huh. I have a house at Malibu."
"Oh, that must be wonderful. The sea, the sand, the sky..."
"Now you're going to tell me you've never been to the beach," Travis said, with a little smile.
"Of course I've been to the beach. San Tropez. Martinique..."
"What about right here, in southern California?"
"The truth?"
"Uh-huh."
She laughed. "Never."
"Never? As in, not even once?"
"No. Carl and my father both thought too many liberal Hollywood-types owned houses on those beaches."
Travis shook his head. "What a deprived childhood you had, Ms. Thorpe! No wading in the water. No walking in the rain. No roller coasters or chili dogs..."
"Chili dogs?"
"Trust me on this, darlin'. A naked hot dog's nothin', compared to a chili..." Travis paused and pressed a button on the yoke. "Piper five-eight foxtrot." His voice was suddenly brisk, his tone all business. "Roger. Traffic left to right, across my heading."
Alex sat back, watching with fascination as Travis scanned the sky around them. He had so many faces—it amazed her, how readily she'd written him off that first night, that first weekend. Had she been afraid of letting herself see the real man? No. That was silly. Why would she have done that? The real man was the one she'd been searching for, when she'd gone into the auction on Friday night.
She'd wanted someone to teach her what sex was really like, and she'd found him. She'd wanted a lover women dream about—a lover she'd dreamed about, and she'd found that, too. Travis had awakened her to passion. She'd become a different woman, in his strong arms. And, when their affair ended, she'd walk away, head high.
She'd gone into this with her eyes open, not wanting a fairy-tale ending but her own identity. Her independence. She had a lot of years to make up for. The last thing she wanted was a man who'd demand things of her—aside from the pleasure she brought him in bed.
And she had brought him that pleasure. The things he'd whispered to her, the ways he'd touched her ...oh yes, she'd made him happy, in bed.
But he wouldn't ask for more than that. Well, good. That was how she wanted it. It was exactly how she wanted it. She wanted a lover, in this new existence of hers, not a man interested in forever after.
She wanted Travis, just as he was.
Of course she did, Alex thought, and turned her face blindly to the window as the Comanche soared through the sky.
"I didn't mean we had to do it all tonight," Alex said, as she stared up at the huge steel structure that rose in stomach bending loops, high above the Magic Mountain Amusement Park.
Travis clasped her hand in his. "We aren't," he said lazily. "So far, all we've done is have hot dogs—"
"Chili dogs," Alex said, and smiled. "Fantastic!"
"See what I mean, darlin'? You have to trust me. I said you'd love 'em, and you did." He jerked his head toward the 'coaster. "And you're gonna love that, too. Unless, of course, you've changed your mind."
"Just listen to you, Cowboy." Alex laughed. "You're trying to sweet-talk me into getting on that thing."
"I am, for a fact." Travis put his hand under her chin and tipped her face to his. "I won't let anything happen to you, Princess." He bent to her and brushed his mouth over hers. "I'll hold on to you, tight, all the way down."
She smiled into his eyes. "You promise?"
"Cross my heart." He drew her closer and kissed her, long and sweet. "I'll always take care of you, Alex," he said softly. "Always."
No, she thought, no, he wouldn't.
Her vision blurred again, the same as it had when they'd left the airport. But she managed to smile and kiss him back.
"In that case, Mr. Baron," she said lightly, "lead on."
But, once on the roller coaster, Alex screamed.
She shrieked.
She clung to Travis and swore she was going to die.
And, when the ride ended, she dragged him to the end of the queue and made him take her up again.
Travis figured she'd have begged for a third ride, if he hadn't diverted her attention by asking her if she'd ever tasted cotton candy.
"What's cotton candy?" she asked, wide-eyed.
He bought her a giant-size cone that had been dipped in what might have been endless yards of pink spun sugar. She tasted it cautiously, testing it with the tip of a tongue as pink as the candy. Travis felt his body clench as he watched her. A need so fierce it frightened him swept through his blood. He wanted to gather her into his arms, carry her away from the noise and the people, take her to some quiet place where only the moon and the stars would look down on them as they made love.
