by Jan Freed
Brenda Lee moved, and Laura stood alone under the crystal chandelier—as tempting and forbidden as original sin. Shimmering facets of light dusted a dress that grazed her legs at midthigh. The damn thing looked spray-painted. He glared his displeasure.
Her luminous gaze dimmed. She looked away.
Steve hurried over to greet her. Laura flashed a brilliant smile that had the handsome young art director stumbling all over himself. Alec dug a Tums from his pocket, threw it in his mouth and ground it to a chalky pulp.
“If I were you, boy, I’d hurry up and defend my claim before it gets jumped, so to speak,” a voice rumbled in his ear. Alec dragged his gaze from the foyer. Sam watched him with a mixture of amusement and sympathy.
“What Laura does outside the office is her business. I have no ‘claim’ to defend.”
Sam’s sky blue gaze flicked to Evelyn and back. “Life doesn’t offer many treasures, son. If you’re not prepared to claim the ones that come along, you might not get a second chance.” He reached up and patted Alec’s shoulder in a fatherly manner. “How about a drink? And I don’t mean that cow piss they’re pouring, either.”
“Chivas on the rocks?”
“No problem.”
Sam flagged down a passing waiter and gave the order. In minutes, Alec sipped the finest Scotch whiskey made. The liquid fire hit his stomach and helped warm his strange empty chill.
“I don’t need a nursemaid, Sam. Go on and see to your guests. I’ll be fine.”
The older man’s silver brows met for an instant, then separated. He shook his head and moved off, muttering something suspiciously like “stubborn fool.”
Alec resigned himself to the inevitable and began working the party, stopping to thank staff members for their hard work and giving out business cards to potential clients. The CEO of Huntington Oil actually agreed to meet for lunch the next week to discuss an annual report. Laura would go nuts at the opportunity to tackle a high-dollar project like that....
Oh, hell. There he went again.
Taking a quick gulp of Scotch, Alec slipped out the patio door into the tropical night. He stood motionless and let the tinkle of wind chimes and muffled party sounds soothe his turmoil. Several couples sat at tables. A few more stood around the pool talking quietly. No one approached him. Having perfected a back-off aura that was useful at times like this, he wasn’t surprised.
Leaning against a column supporting the patio overhang, he examined an idea that had plagued him for weeks. Why was he insisting on buying Laura out? She’d proved to be a vital addition to the agency team. Sam adored her, and Alec suspected she would be a great asset in capturing other clients, if he would only let her.
If she needed the buy-out money to help her family, then hell, he could lend it to her himself. His personal funds were liquid, and she’d pay him back. Laura had more integrity than anyone he knew. Of course, that would entangle him in her life even more than he already was.
The familiar pressure built in his chest. He pulled away from the post and tossed back the remainder of his drink.
“Are you avoiding me, Alec?” asked a husky feminine voice.
He turned. From afar, she’d been dazzling. Up close, she robbed him of breath. He schooled his features to remain expressionless.
“Hello, Laura. Why would you think I’m avoiding you?”
“I thought maybe...” She glanced at the pool, took a tiny sip from her champagne flute and looked back into his eyes. “I never should have threatened to end our partnership, Alec. Especially after our talk about Michael. What you said meant a lot to me.”
Alec’s gut twisted at the vulnerable look in her eyes. He forced himself to shrug. “I would have done the same for any good-looking woman.”
A delicate blush spread up her ivory throat. He fought an urgent desire to trail kisses along its rosy path.
“Yes, well...I just wanted to thank you. But I can see you’re not in the mood for company.”
She turned to leave.
“Some party, huh?” he blurted. “Sam really went all out. Hope we can live up to his expectations.” It was the closest he could get to voicing his fear of failing.
She paused. “Your marketing plan is brilliant. It can’t miss bringing results.”
Inordinately pleased, he jostled the ice in his glass. “Your creative work is outstanding. You’ll win a bundle of awards to hang at your new agency.”
A warm breeze tinkled the chimes, whirled around Laura and carried the scent of lavender to Alec. He concentrated on his glass and willed himself to keep his hands off her. The patio door opened, spilling the sound of chatter and clinking cutlery into the tense moment.
“There she is, Brenda Lee! I told you she was all right.” Harold smiled a greeting and walked toward them.
Behind him, Brenda Lee took in the scene and shot Laura a dismayed look. She grabbed Harold’s arm and halted his progress. “Okay, you were right. Now let’s go inside and get something to eat. This champagne is getting to me on an empty stomach.”
Harold looked down at her in confusion. “But I just got you a pla— Ouch! What’d you pinch me for?”
Brenda Lee spun him toward the door and herded him inside, her voice trailing back to Laura and Alec. “Harold Becker, you may be a whiz with gross-rating points, but you’re dumb as a fence post about some things.”
Alec studied Laura’s flushed profile as she lifted her glass and drained the contents. Interesting.
“Well, I think I’ll track Sam down now. I haven’t had a chance to tell him how wonderful everything is.” She aimed a look somewhere near his bow tie. “See you around.”
“Yeah, sure.” He nodded to her disappearing back, then broke into a slow smile.
Very interesting.
* * *
LAURA SLIPPED into the bathroom, locked the door and pressed icy palms against her heated cheeks. It was one thing to want to seduce Alec. Quite another to have him know that was what she wanted.
Leaning against the marble countertop, she examined her face in the mirror. So much for appearing cool and sophisticated. The sight of Alec in a tuxedo, lounging with James Bond suavity on the patio, had reduced her to mush.
Washing her hands, she toweled them dry and remembered his smoldering appraisal when she’d first arrived, before anger had dominated his expression. She might be inexperienced, but she wasn’t a fool. Alec was not nearly as indifferent to her as he would like.
Laura unlocked the door and reentered the party with chin held high. Grabbing a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, she tipped the glass and savored the tart fizz against her tongue. Call it false courage, but she’d take whatever kind she could get.
Wandering through the elegant house, she peeked into the dining room where guests were sampling the buffet. Steve glanced up from his place in line and gestured for her to join him. Smiling her thanks, she crossed to the buffet.
“Jeez, Laura, you look...incredible.”
“Thanks...I think.”
He flushed to his blond roots. “I mean, you look beautiful. That dress, your hair—”
“Check out the ice sculpture, would you? The new Regency logo you designed even looks great frozen,” she said, diverting his attention to a safer subject. Flirting was great in theory, but Steve was too nice a guy to mislead.
Five minutes later the opening riff of Eric Clapton’s “Layla” floated into the dining room, and she drifted with the curious crowd toward the sound.
The family room had been cleared of furniture for a platform stage, now supporting four male musicians playing drums, bass, keyboard and lead guitar. Boy, did this bring back memories. The guitarist even looked a little like Michael, she realized, waiting for the familiar rush of emotion.
Nothing. Not one little blip in her heartbeat. She broke into an uncontrollable grin and tapped her foot.
By the time the band segued into “Rock Around the Clock,” every person in the room was swaying or dancing in some form. She
had a fleeting fantasy of Alec claiming her for a dance before Steve grabbed her wrist, pulled her among the dancers and spun her under his arm. Laughing, she threw herself into an enthusiastic jitterbug. To her left, Sam whirled Evelyn and gave Laura a wink, then executed some pretty fancy footwork himself. For several carefree minutes, she forgot her personal and professional problems and simply enjoyed being young and gloriously alive. When the last note ended, she collapsed against Steve’s chest. His arms quickly slipped around her and tightened.
Startled, she pushed away and assumed a teasing smile. “Okay, Fonzie, let’s take a break. You wore me out.” Ignoring his obvious disappointment, she turned.
Alec leaned against the wall, watching. Although both hands were stuffed in his pockets, he looked far from relaxed. He looked coiled for action. Ready for blood. Jealous.
Suddenly his eyes met hers, and everyone else ceased to exist. She walked toward him as if in a trance.
“All right folks, we’re gonna slow things down now,” the lead singer murmured into his microphone. “So grab yourself a partner and hold on tight.”
She would have laughed if her throat hadn’t gone dry. Almost within Alec’s reach now, she wet her lips. The haunting notes of “Unchained Melody” swirled around them as his gaze dropped to her mouth.
She would never have a clearer invitation.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ALEC COULDN’T LOOK AWAY, although he cursed himself for not having the strength. She’s my business partner, he reminded himself. Nothing more.
And yet, no woman had ever looked at him like this. Like he was her heaven and earth and the air she breathed. Like she would stay by his side, no matter what. Like...like...oh, God, like she loved him.
The air left his lungs. He inhaled on a rush of exhilaration so powerful it made him dizzy.
Her heart in her eyes, Laura walked toward him, stopped and stretched out her hand.
One step, and she’d be in his arms. Sweet heaven, how he wanted her in his arms. One step. And then what? his conscience chided.
What she offered was incredibly precious. More than he either deserved or could give in return.
Ignoring her hand drew beads of sweat from his forehead, but he did it. He did the right thing by Laura and walked away. Catching a glimpse of Brenda Lee’s accusing eyes, he turned and met Harold’s disapproving expression.
Alec broke free of the crowd and headed straight for the nearest waiter. The living room, empty save for the hired help, provided a welcome refuge. He gave his order and sank into a wing chair facing the fireplace. Safe from prying eyes, he let his shoulders slump. The pulsing guitar rhythm of a new song scrubbed across his raw nerves like a Brillo pad.
When his Scotch arrived, he huddled deeper in his chair and gazed at the empty grate. How soon could he leave without offending Sam? The last thing he wanted was to run into Laura. Sorry coward to the end, that’s me.
Biting off a curse, he tossed back his drink and stared at the floor. The liquor burned in his belly, along with bitter regret. A stocky shadow nudged at his feet.
“Think that’s gonna help?” The familiar voice held mild reproval.
In no mood for one of Sam’s fatherly chats, Alec kept his head down. “Ask me again after the fourth one. Better yet, send the waiter over here.”
Sam’s feet edged into view. The old coot had spilled a dollop of something creamy on his right shoe. Alec’s irritation dissolved, leaving him numb.
“You’ve got spinach dip on your shoe,” he said dully.
“Best place for it. Look at me, Alec.”
Sam’s blue eyes shone with exasperated sympathy. “Laura’s swiggin’ champagne like it’s lemonade. Brenda Lee took her out on the patio for some fresh air.”
Alec looked down at his white-knuckled grip on the glass of Scotch. He loosened his fingers and tightened his jaw. “Brenda Lee will take care of her.”
“It’s you she needs, you stubborn jackass!”
Alec’s head shot up in surprise.
Sam rubbed stubby fingers over his silver burr, obviously struggling with his temper. “You rejected that girl in front of her friends. ‘Bout near broke my heart to watch her face when you walked away.”
“Damn it, Sam...” Alec’s mouth twisted at the irony. For once in his life, he’d done the noble thing, and now he was getting reamed out for it.
Sam’s expression gentled. “A man’s got a right to do what he think’s best, no matter what other people think. But hell, Alec, Laura’s not ‘other people.’ Talk to her. Explain yourself. She deserves that much at least.”
For the first time, Alec allowed himself to think of Laura’s feelings as he’d turned his back on her. His misery increased. Setting his empty glass on the floor, he gave Sam a grim nod.
“Okay, you win. I’ll talk to her. But I have no idea what to say.” He’d better get this over with. It wasn’t going to get any easier.
On his way to the patio door, he searched through the glass. Just as he spotted Laura, someone grabbed his arm. He turned, concealing his annoyance at the sight of Jerry Sanders. Wooing the man’s business was one thing; pretending a friendship he didn’t feel was another.
Jerry leaned forward and leered. “Hey, ol’ buddy. That was some invitation you turned down a little while ago. If I were you, I’d take that partner of yours home before the mood wears off, know what I mean?”
Alec swallowed his distaste. The agency could really use the extra cash flow Sanders Development Corporation would provide. “Ms. Hayes has another escort tonight.” He glanced pointedly at the fingers still clutching his arm. A diamond-encrusted horseshoe glittered on the man’s pinky.
Jerry lifted his hand to clap Alec on the shoulder. “Don’t be modest, man. She was all over you without ever dancing a step. Just think what she’d do between the sheets.”
Alec tensed under the palm resting heavily on his shoulder. He gave Jerry a look that had sent tougher men scurrying for cover.
Jerry didn’t notice. His bleary gaze wandered outside and landed on Laura with prurient interest. “Yes, sir, that is one sexy lady out there.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “You know, Alec, since you don’t want her, I just might be willing to speed up negotiations with your agency if Laura acted a bit...friendlier. I’d give a lot for a piece of tha—” The word broke off on a strangled choke.
Alec twisted and lifted the bow tie in his fist, pulling Jerry’s florid face level with his own. “If you mention Laura one more time, I’ll rip your filthy tongue out by the roots. You got that, Sanders?”
Eyes bulging, Jerry managed a slight nod.
“Good.” Alec released his grip and started to move away.
“Now just a goddamn minute!” Jerry had regained his breath and his bravado. “Sanders Development Corporation hasn’t signed anything with your agency, yet. If you expect to do business with me, you’d better apologize right now.”
Alec thrust him aside like a pesky gnat. “Screw your business. We don’t want it.”
Opening the patio door, he slipped into the warm night and waited for his eyes to adjust. Laura stood on the other side of the pool, resisting Brenda Lee’s efforts to pull her by the arm. Alec walked over. “Can I help?”
Laura lifted wounded doe eyes to his, then averted her face. “Did you hear that, Brenda Lee? He wants to help.” Her voice dripped sarcasm. She jerked her arm from Brenda Lee’s hand. “Everybody wants to help. Well, I don’t need anyone’s help, thank you very much. I’ve taken care of myself just fine for twenty-six years. I can manage one more lousy night.”
As Laura walked toward the door, Brenda Lee raised imploring eyes to Alec. Sighing, he followed the slim figure and reached her in four strides, encircling her upper arm with one hand. Her fragility, so at odds with her strength of character, summoned a surge of protectiveness.
“I’m taking you home now, Laura. I do believe you’ve had enough excitement for the evening.”
She wrenched her arm
free and tossed her hair. “Oh, no, you don’t. I’m just beginning to have fun. You go on home, party pooper. I don’t turn into a pumpkin until midnight.”
Knowing argument was useless, Alec grasped her arm more firmly and propelled her forward. He threw a resigned look over his shoulder at Brenda Lee, who nodded her understanding and made a shooing motion with her hand.
Once inside the living room, Alec released Laura’s arm. “Where’s your purse?”
For an instant, she looked confused, then her brow cleared. She raced off to the bedroom and emerged moments later, holding the beaded bag aloft. “Found it!”
Alec cupped her elbow and steered her toward the front door.
Laura dug in her heels. “What about Sam? We haven’t even said thank-you, yet.”
“Sam will understand. We’ll call him tomorrow.” Alec opened the front door and nudged her through, then dug into his pocket for his valet parking ticket. A gold-jacketed young man plucked it from Alec’s hand and ran off into the night.
Laura, so vibrant earlier, looked like a lovely wilted flower under the porch lighting. And he was responsible, damn his soul.
She loves me.
The wondrous knowledge was like a newsflash in his brain. He didn’t dare examine his emotions, else he’d be forced to smother them, as he had for too many long sterile years. Some part of him rebelled at doing so this time.
His gleaming white Lexus rolled up the circular driveway. Alec handed Laura into the front seat, then jogged around to the driver’s side. Tipping the valet, he slid beneath the wheel and slammed the door.
The ride to her apartment passed in silence. Laura leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes, obviously disinclined to talk. Relief washed through him. He wouldn’t have to explain his actions, after all.
Everything in him had balked at hurting her. But he’d done the right thing and spared them both a lot of pain in the future.
Alec couldn’t deny the special chemistry between them. But that same chemistry made them go at each other’s throats over the day-to-day business of living. Inevitably, they would go for the heart.
