“I haven’t noticed any obvious lapse of control,” she said, a hint of huffiness in her voice.
“That’s because I’m a very devious fellow. I assure you that I’ve been walking on hot coals all week, but I wasn’t about to let you have the benefit of my virile young body without being sure that you respected me. How could I know that you wouldn’t just take me and cast me aside in the morning?”
Sheena gave a derisive snort that caused him to chuckle once again. Playing with her dark curls, he said softly, “But it won’t be long now, dove. I can feel you coming closer to me all the time. You’ll say the words I want to hear soon, won’t you?”
She leaned back in his arms to regard him with troubled dark eyes. “I don’t know,” she whispered confidingly. “I’m so confused that I don’t know what I’m feeling. I know that there’s something between us that I’ve never felt before. But is that the emotion you’re asking from me?”
There was a flicker of disappointment in the depths of Challon’s eyes as he kissed her lightly on the nose. “I’m rushing things again,” he said with forced lightness. “Take all the time you need, dove. I can wait.” He pushed her off his lap and stood up. “Now, I’d better send you off to bed. I want you to be rested for tomorrow. We’re going to have visitors.”
“Visitors?” Sheena whirled to face him, her eyes wide with surprise.
Rand nodded, as he slipped his arm around her waist and propelled her gently toward the staircase. “My secretary, Marcy Lovett, is flying in with some contracts that I have to sign. I arranged for Dr. Knowleton to come at the same time to give you a final check-up. You’ve never gotten over that little cough you developed after your chill.”
“But I feel fine,” she protested. The knowledge of the sudden intrusion on their privacy disturbed her for some unknown reason. She had been aware that Challon was in constant radio contact with his home base. She supposed she should have known that a powerful economic figure such as Challon could not remain isolated for long from his business interests, yet she was experiencing an odd dissatisfaction at the thought that she must now share Challon’s attention with his work. “Aren’t you afraid that I might appeal to your secretary or Dr. Knowleton to rescue me?” she asked tartly, tossing her head. “Or have you bought their loyalty, too?”
Challon shook his head, a frown darkening his face. “Some people can’t be bought. But,” he added with deliberate ruthlessness, “they can be destroyed. I don’t think you’d want to put me in a position of having to defend myself.” His lips twisted bitterly. “The killer instinct, remember?”
Sheena shivered involuntarily as she remembered his granite-hard face that evening in the firelight. No, she would hesitate to expose anyone to that brutally dangerous side of Rand Challon.
Rand noticed the involuntary withdrawal, for he immediately set about restoring her confidence and compliance in a way that was both enjoyable and eminently successful. When he raised his head from her lips, he and Sheena were both flushed and breathing hard. “Don’t ever be afraid of me, Sheena,” he said quietly. “I’ll never be a threat to you. On the contrary, my entire resources will always be available to protect you and make your way smoother.”
“Except when you decide otherwise,” she murmured, a spark of mischief in her enormous black eyes. “I don’t know whether to trust you or not, Rand Challon. Tonight you revealed your true colors. You had no compunction at all about cheating a poor, naive Irish lass. How do I know you won’t do it again?”
Challon grinned. “I’m a reasonably honest man unless the temptation is totally irresistible. And you happen to be the only prize that constitutes that much of a challenge for me. Besides, now that you’re on to my tricks, I wouldn’t dare try to manipulate you, dove.”
Sheena regarded his innocent expression and dancing golden eyes suspiciously. “You’d dare anything,” she stated flatly. “And you were entirely too good at your ‘tricks’ to be a complete novice. Where did you learn to cheat at cards, Rand?”
“Well, now that you mention it, there was a time in my disreputable past when I was a blackjack dealer at a casino in Nassau.”
“Rand Challon, you’re a black-hearted rogue with no principles whatever! Have you no scruples at all? I trusted you!”
“You can always trust me in anything important, dove. I just decided that in this particular wager, it would be to our mutual advantage for me to emerge the victor. Now, up you go. I can feel my willpower eroding very rapidly.”
He turned her around and started her up the steps with a firm slap on her derriere. “I’ll see you at breakfast at eight. The plane won’t be here until ten, so we’ll have time for our walk before Knowleton and Marcy arrive. Sleep well, dove.”
The Lear jet was descending with the screaming grace of a predatory eagle when Sheena and Challon emerged from the woods and made their way leisurely toward the runway where the jet would touch down. By the time the sleek, streamlined bird had rolled to a stop, they were standing waiting by the hangar.
As the passenger door opened and the automatic steps emerged, Sheena waited with a tinge of curiosity for her first sight of Rand’s secretary. Whenever he had mentioned Marcy Lovett in the past week, it had been with respect and admiration, and Sheena had received an impression of a superefficient dynamo with computerlike accuracy.
The woman who came hurrying down the steps looked more like a college girl than the paragon of Challon’s description. Dressed in buttercup yellow pants and ski jacket, Marcy Lovett was a tall, slim woman with short, curly brown hair and a turned-up nose that was liberally dusted with freckles. Her hazel eyes were apprehensive as she hastily crossed the tarmac to stand before Challon, and there was a sheepish smile on her pleasant face. “You’re going to murder me,” she announced, grimacing. “But, so help me God, I couldn’t help it. The woman practically shanghaied me.”
“Simmer down, Marcy,” Rand said. “Who shanghaied you?”
Marcy Lovett cast an uncomfortable glance at Sheena, her gaze moving down to Challon’s large hand linked with Sheena’s. “Donna Scott,” she finally said reluctantly. “I did everything I could to deter her, but the woman is a positive bloodhound. She’s been on your trail for over three months, and I don’t know how she found out I was coming here today.”
“I hope you’re not saying what I think you’re saying,” Rand said, his voice dangerously soft. “You brought her with you?”
Marcy Lovett nodded unhappily. “I told you that you were going to murder me. But there was no way I could get out of it, short of pushing her out of the plane without a parachute. She was already at the airport when I arrived this morning at five.” She distractedly ran her hand through her short, curly hair. “I didn’t think glamour girls like her ever got up before noon. God, I’m sorry, Rand.”
“It’s okay,” Rand said. “I’ll take care of it. I know how determined Donna can be when she zeroes in on something. Where is she now?”
“She and Dr. Knowleton are still on the plane.” The secretary grimaced. “She wouldn’t get off until she repaired the ravages of the trip on that beautiful face, and Dr. Knowleton wouldn’t leave her side. She’s been sharpening her technique on him since we left Houston.” There was a definite note of warning in Marcy Lovett’s voice.
“Donna has no more technique than a steamroller,” Rand said dryly. “Someone told her as a child that persistence always wins the day, and she’s subscribed to the maxim ever since. I suppose I’d better go rescue Knowleton before she makes him so dizzy he’ll be useless to us.”
He dropped Sheena’s hand and started for the plane. “Take care of Sheena, Marcy.”
Sheena bristled momentarily at this offhand dismissal, and she met Marcy Lovett’s tentative smile with a distinctly cool one of her own.
“Look, I’m really sorry about this,” the secretary said apologetically. “I didn’t mean to bring that blond vamp down on both of you.” She bit her lip worriedly. “Rand was so upset that he didn�
�t bother to introduce us. I’m Marcy Lovett. I’ve been Rand’s secretary for the past four years.”
“How do you do,” Sheena said politely. “I’m Sheena Reardon.”
“Yes, I know,” Marcy said frankly, smiling. “I think it’s so romantic that you and Rand are back together again after all this time. I wouldn’t have had anything spoil your reunion for worlds.”
“Back together?” Sheena asked bewilderedly.
Marcy nodded. “I’ve been seeing your pictures ever since the day Rand hired me. I’m glad you’ve settled your differences and are a twosome again.”
Sheena shook her head at the secretary’s misconception. Marcy Lovett obviously thought that she and Rand had had a lover’s quarrel and broken up before her arrival on the scene. It was a natural conclusion under the circumstances and far more believable than the true story. “Thank you,” Sheena said. “You’re very kind.” Then unable to contain her curiosity any longer, she asked. “Who is Miss Scott?”
Marcy Lovett covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, Lord, I was afraid you didn’t know about her.” She groaned. “I’ll be lucky if I get out of this with my job intact.” Her hazel eyes were earnest as she said comfortingly, “Don’t worry, he hasn’t seen Donna Scott in over four months. I’m sure that he’s finished with her. She just thinks she’s so irresistible that she can’t believe it.” She made a face. “The lady’s IQ isn’t nearly as devastating as her looks.”
“And is she that irresistible?” Sheena asked slowly, her eyes on Challon’s lean figure as he quickly crossed the tarmac.
“She’s gorgeous,” Marcy admitted reluctantly. “She’s quite a famous model when she’s not jetting around with the beautiful people.” Then as her eyes caught a movement at the entrance at the top of the stairs, she added wryly, “It appears that you’re about to be afforded the opportunity to judge for yourself. I believe Miss Scott has just finished gilding the lily.”
Sheena wondered gloomily what Donna Scott could possibly have done that would have improved her already radiant appearance. Her sparkling white ski jacket with fox fur trim was cut with an understated elegance, and it clothed a tall, sleek figure that still was voluptuously curved. Her long, ash-blond hair was styled in a sophisticated pageboy that framed a depressingly perfect face. Her pansy blue eyes were glowing meltingly, and her lips were parted in a brilliant smile as she came toward Challon, her hands outstretched.
Sheena could not hear her words as she greeted Challon, but she could see that the woman’s smile widened delightedly at Challon’s reply. It seemed that Rand was not as angry at Donna Scott’s arrival as Marcy believed, Sheena thought vexedly, as the ravishing blond pressed a warm kiss on Challon’s lips before slipping her arm intimately through his.
Donna Scott and Challon had been joined by a thin, dapper man in his late forties, and the trio were now walking toward them.
Sheena bit her lower lip in annoyance as she noticed the way the model was clinging to Rand’s arm and the look of indulgent amusement in Rand’s eyes as he looked down at her vivacious face.
“Sheena, I’d like you to meet an old friend, Donna Scott,” Rand said, as they reached the hangar. “This is Sheena Reardon, Donna.” He clapped the slight, wiry man on the shoulder. “And this is Thad Knowleton. You’ve already met, but you’ve unfortunately found him very forgettable.”
“A hazard of my profession,” the doctor said wryly. His handshake was firm and his blue eyes both gentle and keen behind his horn-rimmed glasses. “You’re looking very much better than the last time I saw you, Miss Reardon. How are you feeling?”
Challon frowned impatiently. “You can go into all that later, Thad. I want you to give her a thorough examination this afternoon. Laura should have brunch ready. Let’s go on up to the cabin.”
Sheena noticed that her own polite acknowledgment of the introduction to Donna Scott had been met with a vague nod and a pleasant smile that still managed to contain an almost childlike curiosity. “Have we met before?” she asked in a clear, bell-like tone that was oddly incongruous with her sultry appearance. “Rand and I have a number of the same friends. I’m sure that I’ve seen you somewhere.”
“No, you haven’t,” Challon said emphatically, taking her arm and turning her firmly toward the path that led to the cabin.
Despite this assurance the model continued to give Sheena occasional puzzled glances over her shoulder as she climbed the hill to the cabin. In her indignant surprise, Sheena barely noticed that Rand had left her to trail behind with Marcy Lovett while he strode ahead with Knowleton and the gorgeous model on either side. She had grown used to Challon’s exclusive attention, and she found it a trifle disconcerting to be so casually dismissed at the first appearance of these visitors from the outside world. Not that it mattered to her if an entire harem of Challon’s old flames chose to drop in, she thought crossly.
Why should it bother her if instead of the dangerously exciting level of communication that she had become accustomed to, she was being treated with the amused indulgence that he might have displayed toward his favorite niece? After all, she had known that this crazy obsession Challon had for her would eventually fade in the light of reality. She had just not thought that reality would be embodied by the lush, provocative figure of one Donna Scott.
That the gorgeous blond was attracting Challon to her like a powerful magnet was evidenced over brunch. The model was sitting next to him, and he exerted a cosmopolitan charm on the entire company that was dazzling in its appeal. Sheena could not even recognize the man she had grown to know over the last two weeks in this sophisticated tycoon. His attitude toward her had undergone a complete metamorphosis in the time it had taken for his former mistress to get off the plane. Former mistress? Judging by the attention he was lavishing on the voluptuous Miss Scott, the relationship was very much in the present.
To her infinite frustration, she couldn’t even find fault with Donna Scott. The woman was perfectly enchanting. It was obvious that Marcy was correct that the lovely Miss Scott wasn’t overly bright, but she more than made up for it with an endearing little-girl air and almost effusive friendliness. Even Sheena received her share of the model’s wide-eyed interest. An interest that Rand immediately deflected back to himself, she noticed grimly.
Sheena was more than eager to leave the table when Challon stood up and turned to Knowleton to say briskly, “Suppose you take Sheena up to her room and give her that examination now, Thad. I have to go over those contracts with Marcy.” He checked the gold watch on his wrist. “I’d like to see you in my study in an hour, if that’s convenient for you.”
Knowleton nodded and rose leisurely to his feet. “That should give me plenty of time,” he agreed. He cocked an eyebrow inquiringly at Sheena. “If you’re ready, Miss Reardon?”
Sheena nodded, a stormy frown darkening her face. Even if she hadn’t been very eager to escape from the dining room, she knew that Rand would have found a way of disposing of her troublesome presence. “I’m quite ready,” she said icily, throwing her napkin down on the table.
“And what about me?” Donna Scott asked, her lips pursed in a provocative pout. She placed a perfectly manicured hand on Challon’s arm caressingly. “You’re surely not going to desert me after I’ve come all this way to see you. Can’t those boring old contracts wait for a while, darling?”
Challon lifted the hand on his arm to his lips. “You’re going to use my bedroom and take a nice long siesta,” he said lightly, as he kissed her palm lingeringly. “You left Houston at a god-awful hour, and you must be exhausted. I want you well-rested when I get out from under this paperwork.”
There was a wealth of meaning in the last sentence, and the gorgeous model responded with a smile filled with delight.
“I promise that you won’t be disappointed,” she said huskily, moistening her lips in sultry invitation. “You won’t be long, Rand?”
He shook his head with an intimate smile that pledged as much as her own. “Yo
u know me better than that. When could I ever wait?”
Sheena felt an obscure sense of shock at the blatantly sexual overtones of that conversation. He might as well have boldly stated to the entire company how he intended on spending the rest of the afternoon. She felt suddenly violently sick to her stomach.
She pushed back her chair hurriedly. “If you’ll excuse me,” she muttered, jumping up and almost running from the room. She barely made it to her bathroom upstairs before she lost the meal she had just eaten. After she had brushed her teeth and bathed her face in cold water, she was a little better, but she still felt a little nauseated, and there was a queer throbbing ache in her breast. She must be coming down with something, she assured herself feverishly. Why else would she be swept up in this painful turmoil? She almost welcomed the soft knock that announced the arrival of Thad Knowleton.
Her relief was rapidly dissipated as the doctor proceeded to ask her to put on a robe and then gave her the most embarrassingly thorough physical she’d ever received. It was accompanied with a barrage of questions that caused the color to mount to her cheeks and remain through the entire interview. When he was finally satisfied, he sat back in the easy chair beside her bed and said, “You’re very much improved, Miss Reardon. I have a few recommendations that I’ll take up with Rand, but on the whole I couldn’t be more pleased with your progress.” He smiled. “I admit that I was a trifle concerned when you had to leave us so abruptly downstairs, but I’m sure it was just a temporary indisposition.”
“I thought perhaps I might have a touch of the flu,” Sheena suggested tentatively.
Thad Knowleton shook his head as he closed his bag and fastened it securely. “I think you’ll find you’re completely recovered very shortly,” he said with a curious smile. “By tomorow at the latest.” He stood up. “Well, it’s time I presented myself in the study with my report.” He smiled wryly. “Despite Rand’s courteous phrasing, he fully expects me to be right on time with the information he wants from me. A very dynamic and demanding man, our Rand Challon.” He moved toward the door. “I’ll see you at dinner, Miss Reardon.”
The Reluctant Lark Page 9
