Radclyffe - The_Color_of_Love_-_Radclyffe

“What about you, Dere? What were you thinking about you in all of this?”

Derian stared, the heat dissipating as fast as it had flared.

“How many women have you slept with?”

“What?” Derian might have trouble navigating in new places, especially when she was emotionally unsteady the way she had been earlier, but the rest of her mind worked perfectly, and she wasn’t following Aud. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Go ahead, answer the question.”

Derian laughed despite herself. “I don’t know. A lot. Why?”

“Because you don’t know anything about women at all. I’m sure you’re fabulous in bed, but do you have any idea what makes a woman tick?”

“Well I should, I am one.” Derian stopped, admitting she rarely thought about why she did what she did, beyond the one primal motivating force in her life. Escaping Martin. Escaping the constant rejection. Getting away from the thousand cuts that were bleeding her to death. “You’re saying I’m insensitive and self-centered.”

“No,” Aud said softly, “I’m not, because I know you’re not. But has it occurred to you that marriage is something that most women—hell, maybe most people, I don’t know, I can’t speak for guys—think about, maybe even dream about, their whole lives? It’s not a business decision, Derian.”

“It often is, and you know it,” Derian said. “Besides, Emily is all about her profession. She’s not looking for a romantic relationship. We talked about it.”

Aud’s eyes widened. “The two of you talked about getting married?”

“Not exactly,” Derian said, exasperated. “We talked about the future, you know, what we wanted and didn’t want. We both pretty much said marriage wasn’t for us.”

“Pretty much…” Aud laughed wryly. “Oh, Dere. You mean marriage isn’t for you. I bet Emily is all about her job right now. I get that. Me too. But that doesn’t mean that somewhere down the road she didn’t see that for herself.”

“Well, there won’t be any down the road at Winfield’s if she’s back in Singapore.”

Aud gave her a long look. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it. You don’t want her to leave.”

“That hardly makes any difference, since I’m leaving myself.”

Aud stiffened. “Are you? When?”

“Soon.” As soon as she could.

“For how long?”

“I don’t know how long, a couple weeks probably. Henrietta is doing really well, and as long as she keeps to her regimen, she’ll be back before too long.”

“And does Emily know this?”

“I mentioned it, yes.”

“So you announced you were leaving in the same breath as you suggested the two of you get married?” Aud said dryly.

Derian flushed. “Not quite like that, no. I don’t know. We didn’t actually get to the planning part. What are you getting at?”

“That maybe you don’t know the woman you’re sleeping with as well as you think.”

Derian rubbed her face. “Well, she certainly knows me.”

“Don’t be so sure.” Aud leaned over to kiss Derian on the cheek. “Maybe you’re the one who doesn’t know you.”

Chapter Twenty-seven

Derian landed in Rio in the late afternoon. She hadn’t slept the night before or on the plane, and the buzz of being beyond tired ran through her. She wasn’t looking forward to navigating another unfamiliar place—but then it looked like she wouldn’t have to. An Asian woman bearing a sign with her name on it waited near baggage claim. She didn’t look like anyone from the hotel or travel agency, unless their reps were wearing Prada and fifty thousand dollars’ worth of diamonds these days.

Derian held out her hand. “Hello, I’m Derian Winfield.”

The woman, somewhere in the range of thirty, extended a manicured hand. “I’m Mingzhu Tan, from Beijing Aerotech. Please call me Ming.”

“Ah,” Derian said, putting the pieces together. She’d met with the tech’s CEO six months before when the rising tycoon first showed interest in investing in American sports teams. “And how is Mr. Yee?”

“Very well, thank you. We’re so happy to have this opportunity to meet with you.”

“As am I,” Derian said automatically. She’d danced this dance dozens of times in the past and wondered if she hadn’t inherited far more of Martin’s business shrewdness than she wanted to admit. Right now, the last thing she wanted to be thinking about was Martin. Every time she thought about him, she heard Emily’s subtle accusation that she was motivated by her need to best him. She shook off the memory. “I appreciate you meeting me.”

Ming smiled slowly. “Of course, we are pleased to offer you any courtesy we can.”

Derian had a feeling those courtesies might extend far beyond a ride from the airport, and felt not the slightest twinge of interest. What she wanted was a long shower, a longer drink, and something, anything, to occupy her mind. A liaison with a strange woman, however, was not on that list.

She collected her luggage and carried it out to the waiting car. The trip to the hotel was mercifully short and she didn’t have to do more than make casual passing conversation with Ming. When the limo pulled up in front of the Copa, she shook Ming’s hand and bowed. “You were very gracious to take the time to meet me.”

“We are staying here as well,” Ming said, again with a smile that could be an invitation but stopped short of being insistent. If she was disappointed that Derian didn’t request to meet at another time, she didn’t show it. “My suite is 407. Please ring me if I may be of service.”

“I’m sure I’ll see you again, and please give my regards to Mr. Yee.”

Derian picked up her key from the express check-in wall and headed directly upstairs. The hotel bar would undoubtedly be filled with people she wasn’t in the mood to talk to just yet. Her suite was another large, fully appointed trio of rooms with the requisite balcony, this one overlooking the Copa beach. A cool ocean breeze cut the shimmering heat enough to make sitting outside look inviting. Still jittery, like a car with the idle revving too high, Derian took a shower and ordered up a bottle of champagne. In briefs and a short-sleeved shirt, she settled on a lounger on the balcony and let the alcohol slowly dull her nerves. Watching couples amble across the white glittering sand, she glanced at the empty recliner beside her. Loneliness was not a sensation she generally dwelled upon, but she couldn’t help wishing Emily was there with her. An evening spent over a quiet dinner and a late-night stroll on a moonlit beach, Emily’s hand in hers and Emily’s warm laughter washing over her, struck her as more satisfying than anything she’d ever done. She’d never wanted that with any other woman, and she wouldn’t be finding it anywhere she went tonight.

Derian dropped her head back and closed her eyes.

When she woke, the last red-gold rays of a brilliant sunset slanted across the ocean and draped her body in fiery shadows. She had to be at the sponsor’s reception in half an hour. She took another shower and, after the cold water drove the alcohol fumes from her brain, dressed and joined the familiar crowd in the ballroom on the mezzanine. The room was exactly like a hundred others she’d been in—huge gleaming chandeliers, tall columns flanking both sides, ornately painted ceilings, and an army of waiters with silver trays and a thousand flutes of champagne. Plus the bars discreetly spaced at intervals around the perimeter.

Derian took a glass of champagne she wasn’t interested in drinking and made a mental note of the time. An hour was about all she could take. Ming nodded to her from across the room. Derian made the rounds, shook all the right hands, and made her business manager happy by wooing potential new partners. As soon as she could, she slipped away and ordered a car to take her to a hotel in a less popular part of the city. Gambling was illegal in Brazil, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t any. You just needed to know where. She settled at the baccarat table and played all night.