by Donna Vitek
Garden of the Moongate
By
Donna Vitek
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
"Aren't You Hungry?" She Whispered, Afraid of His Passion.
He lifted his head slightly, an indulgent smile softening the sensuous curve of his lower lip. "Only for you, Allendre," he muttered huskily. "You're delicious. The most delicious, softest girl I've ever known, and I can't seem to keep my hands off you. Forget about lunch."
"But, Ric…"
His hands tangled in her thick golden hair, holding her fast as his mouth descended on hers again. "Touch me," he commanded roughly before his kiss became hard and possessive, a demand she could not resist…
DONNA VITEK firmly believes that "I would probably have never learned to enjoy writing as much as I do" without the helpful influence of her husband, Richard. The Vitek family lives in Winston-Salem, North Carolina.
Dear Reader,
Silhouette Romances is an exciting new publishing series, dedicated to bringing you the very best in contemporary romantic fiction from the very finest writers. Our stories and our heroines will give you all you want from romantic fiction.
Also, you play an important part in our future plans for Silhouette Romances. We welcome any suggestions or comments on our books, which should be sent to the address below.
So enjoy this book and all the wonderful romances from Silhouette. They're for you!
Elaine Shelley
Silhouette Books
PO Box 703
Dunton Green
Sevenoaks
Kent
TN13 2YE
Copyright © 1982 by Donna Vitek
First printing 1982
ISBN 0 340 32072 9
For Anne Gisonny
Chapter One
As Allendre Corey unnecessarily smoothed the shimmering blond strands of her shoulder-length hair and moved forward to perch herself on the edge of her seat, her cousin, Lynn, shook her head and laughed softly.
Restlessly tapping her toes against the carpet, Allendre turned to the older girl with a questioning frown. "What's funny?"
Lynn's lips twitched as she tried to control her amusement. "You just look like you might sprout wings and fly away by yourself if they don't let you on that plane soon. Why so nervous?"
Shrugging, Allendre flicked an imaginary piece of lint from the skirt of her white linen suit. "I'm more excited than nervous, I guess. I never expected to be sent on an assignment this soon. Rookies at Meredith's Travel Guides usually spend at least a year proofreading copy and trotting messages back and forth between editors before they're sent out the first time. I've only been there six months, though."
"I guess they simply realized you're a very capable young woman," Lynn suggested earnestly. "They must have, since they're trusting you with this delicate assignment."
"Well, I'm not sure they sent me because they trust me," Allendre responded wryly. "Actually, Mr. Meredith seemed a little nervous about giving me the job, but since everyone else was busy, he didn't have much choice. Besides, he said I look so young that no one at the hotel will ever suspect I'm there to check out the complaints he's been getting about it."
"My cousin, the spy," Lynn teased, then stroked her cheek thoughtfully. "Seriously, though, isn't Shannon House supposed to be one of the finest old hotels in Bermuda? I'm certain I've heard of it."
"I'm sure you have. During the twenties, I think it was something of a mecca for all the 'best people.' And since the forties, Meredith's Guide to Bermuda has always listed it as a super deluxe hotel, a rare honor, believe me. Mr. Meredith's stayed there several times himself and thought the service and the atmosphere were superb. That's why he's so disturbed about all the complaints he's been receiving about it recently. Apparently the service isn't all that great anymore, and there have actually been a few letters from former guests who swear they were overcharged when they checked out."
"You mean they think somebody deliberately padded their bills?" Lynn asked, frowning confusedly. "But why would anyone risk the reputation of a fine old hotel just to get a few extra dollars? It doesn't make sense… unless Shannon House has been sold and the new owner only cares about making a big profit."
"No, it hasn't been sold. Mr. Meredith checked that out right away, but it's still owned by the same family who built it and the man who has managed it for the past thirty-five years is still there, so nothing should have changed."
"But it has."
"Apparently. That's what I'm going to find out. If the service has gotten slipshod, then Mr. Meredith will have to lower the rating for it in his next Guide to Bermuda."
"Wow, that's a pretty awesome responsibility for you, isn't it??"
"Now you know why I'm nervous," Allendre retorted wryly, needlessly adjusting the collar of her lilac blouse, then glancing at her wristwatch. "But I suppose it'll be easy enough to discover if the service there is less than top-quality. Mr. Meredith gave me a checklist of what he considers to be the marks of a super deluxe hotel—personalized service, a calm, classy atmosphere. You know, 'the guest is always right' attitude."
"And they won't know who you are, right? You'll just act like any other guest?" Lynn's dark brown eyes sparkled gleefully. "Ooh, that sounds so exciting. What a great job you have! I'd love to get paid for basking in the sunshine. Instead, I was silly enough to go into teaching. A classroom full of rioting third graders sure sounds pathetic compared to an exotic sandy beach and beautiful blue waters."
"Nonsense. You know you wouldn't give up teaching for anything," Allendre challenged. "You love all those rioting third graders, and don't try to tell me otherwise." Glancing at her watch again, she jumped abruptly to her feet. "I think I'll check my luggage at the ticket counter."
"But you have nearly an hour before your plane leaves."
"I know, but I'm too nervous to sit still," Allendre admitted, smiling sheepishly. "Watch my tote bag, will you? I'll be right back."
Two suitcases in tow, Allendre joined the line waiting at the airline ticket counter, and as she inched forward slowly during the following ten minutes, she pulled her bags along with her. At last she hoisted them up on a low platform to be checked, then handed her ticket to the young man behind the counter.
His eyes roved over her in blatant appreciation and he smiled as he assigned her a seat in the first-class section. "An unusual first name, Miss Corey," he remarked flirtatiously. "I bet a lot of people call you Allie."
Allendre grimaced comically. "Almost everyone. Unfortunately, I hate it; probably because in grammar school Allie became Alley Oop, Alley Cat, Alleyway, and anything else the boys could think of to pester me with."
Laughing, the young man handed back her ticket envelope with a flourish. "Have a nice flight, Allendre. Wish I was going to Bermuda with you."
"I'm sure your wife would enjoy the trip, too," she retorted wryly, staring at the gold wedding band he wore on his left hand. Stepping back, away from the counter, she trod on the toes of the person behind her, then stiffened as hard hands gripped her upper arms to move her forward again before she could even begin to utter an apology.
"Make you a deal," a deep voice growled close to her ear. "You don't walk on my feet and I won't walk on yours."
Spinning around, Allendre felt her cheeks burn as she tilted her head back and met the gray-blue eyes of the young man towering over her. Though she smiled apologe
tically, his dark lean face remained expressionless. "I'm terribly sorry," she murmured as his cool gaze roamed rather impersonally over her. "I didn't mean to…"
"Apology accepted," he said brusquely, bending down to pick up the briefcase on the floor behind him. The muscles of his shoulders rippled beneath the fabric of his gray pin-striped suit, and when he straightened again and found her watching him closely, something like impatience flickered across his face. "The line is backing up, so if you're finished…"
"Oh, of course; I'm terribly sorry," she repeated, stuffing her ticket envelope into her purse as she rushed away. "Well, if looks could kill, I'd be dead now," she muttered to herself, stepping lightly onto the escalator that carried her to the second level of the terminal, where Lynn waited.
"Why are your cheeks so pink?" the older girl asked before Allendre could sit down. "It must have been awfully warm up there. Was the air conditioning off?"
"Not exactly," Allendre murmured vaguely, lifting her tote bag off the floor. After slipping the strap over her shoulder, she gestured in the direction of the nearest snack shop. "Let's have a drink, okay? Something cool and refreshing."
A few moments later, as both girls sat sipping iced tea at a corner booth, Allendre had conveniently forgotten the embarrassing episode at the ticket counter. Crossing her long, shapely legs, she propped her elbows on the tabletop and rested her chin in her hands.
"You look tired," Lynn remarked sympathetically. "But I imagine you had to get up very early to catch the flight out of Chicago."
"Three-thirty," Allendre muttered, yawning. "That is a mite earlier than I usually get up."
"That's earlier than chickens get up, but maybe you can catch a nap on the plane," her cousin suggested. "Then, when you land in Bermuda, you'll be all bright-eyed and rested for your spy mission."
"Oh, I'm sure nervous energy will keep me going until bedtime tonight at least," Allendre said, then added wryly, "Although I have a distinct feeling this assignment won't be nearly as exciting as it sounds."
"It'll be more exciting than spending the rest of the summer sweltering in Chicago, won't it?" Lynn wrinkled her nose, stirring her tea abstractedly with a red-and-white plastic straw. "Heaven knows, I wish Neal and I could get out of New York before the end of August. But since he doesn't graduate until then, I'll just have to be patient."
"Didn't you tell me he's hoping for a church in New England after he graduates? What are his chances of finding one?"
"Fairly good. Obviously, there aren't that many music majors who are interested in becoming church music directors, especially if the church is tiny and in a small town. So we've heard about a few openings. There's a small town in Maine—I can't remember the name. Then there's a church in Preston, Vermont, in the Green Mountains, not far from Stowe."
"And of course you're hoping Neal is offered the position there. You must be, the way you like to ski." A mischievous smile played across Allendre's full, shapely mouth. "Well, I just hope that, wherever you go, the parishioners never hear about your past. It simply wouldn't do if they discovered the music director's beautiful young wife had been such a wild little girl."
"We were a couple of little devils, weren't we?" Lynn said, laughing. "I really don't know how our parents endured us."
"Or Jim," Allendre added; her green eyes sparkled. "Remember the Fourth of July when he was sixteen and we were about twelve? That's the only time I can remember being glad he was your brother and not mine. He was absolutely livid when he saw his underwear flying from the flagpole in your front yard. I guess you shouldn't have done it."
"Now, wait just a minute!" Lynn protested with a grin. "I recall having some help in that little endeavor. You stood lookout for me, remember?"
"Yes, but I didn't actually take part in the banner raising," Allendre said primly. "And besides, it was your idea to do it in the first place."
Lynn emphatically shook her head. "No. I distinctly remember that the idea was yours."
"Was not!"
"Was too!"
As they laughed together Allendre sighed. "I wonder how many times we bickered just that way. Oh, I know our families had to be so relieved when we finally grew up."
"Undoubtedly," Lynn agreed. "We were two wild and unmanageable little hellcats, at least according to Great-aunt Nita. Remember what she always said about us?" Pursing her lips tightly, she mimicked in a nasal tone, "'These two girls are destined for trouble, mark my words! They're positively unruly. It wouldn't surprise me one bit if their antics end up disgracing the entire family. Something must be done to discipline them right now!'"
"And we weren't even teenagers yet," Allendre muttered softly, then shrugged and added louder with a grin, "But old Aunt Nita's always such a grumpy prude, constantly complaining about something." Then, suddenly, her smile faded and she felt her cheeks redden as the man in the booth behind Lynn turned his head to glance over his shoulder. His gray eyes gleamed with disdain, as obvious and insulting as it had been during their earlier meeting at the ticket counter. Apparently, this time he had only heard Lynn's last words and was drawing his own erroneous conclusions. Suppressing a groan of embarrassment, Allendre met his gaze directly for an instant, then looked hastily away as a mocking smile twisted his strong, firm mouth. He really had a nerve, she fumed. She had a fierce desire to toss the rest of her tea in his dark, sardonic face. Controlling the urge, she looked up again, but he had turned away.
"Let's go," she muttered, sliding out of the booth and marching away, barely aware of the puzzled frown her cousin wore as she rushed to catch up.
"Only twenty minutes until boarding," Allendre said a moment later, synchronizing her watch with the official clock on the opposite wall of the mezzanine. Shifting her tote bag to her right shoulder, she sighed and strummed her fingers against her knees. "I wish I weren't so nervous; it's really silly to be. All I have to do in Bermuda is relax as if I were a typical guest on vacation. The hotel staff will never know I'm there for any other reason."
"Of course not," Lynn reassured her. "Mr. Meredith was right—you look too young for anyone to ever suspect you of being there to evaluate them. So don't worry, Allie." Lynn's brown eyes glowed with affection.
"I'm not really worried, just eager to get started, I guess," the younger girl admitted. "I suppose you could say this is the most adventurous thing I've ever done in my life and I'm overly excited. I'm really glad you could meet me here while I had this stopover; I would've been a bundle of nerves if you hadn't been here to talk to."
"And I came hoping some of your adventure would rub off on me," Lynn retorted, but without a trace of real discontent. "Heaven knows, I'll have to get my adventures secondhand, since I'm destined to live the mundane life of schoolteacher and wife of a church music director."
"And you wouldn't change places with me for all the money in the world," Allendre said solemnly. "And I must admit I envy you for what you and Neal have together. A great marriage is much more important than an occasional semiadventure and I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever find a man I could share a relationship like that with. After all, I'm twenty-two already."
"But not quite senile yet," Lynn teased. "And I'm sure the right man will come along soon. Maybe you'll even find him in Bermuda."
"I doubt that. I hear it's pretty much a haven for honeymooners, and the few single men who might be there probably won't be searching for very meaningful relationships." With a rueful smile Allendre glanced at her watch again, then leaped to her feet. "Fifteen minutes to go. I'd better head for the boarding lounge. It's been so great seeing you. Thanks for coming, Lynn."
They exchanged a brief hug, and Allendre began to hurry away. "When you come back, Neal and I will throw a big party for you," Lynn called after her. "We'll shock the neighborhood," she joked.
Appreciating the absurdity of such a suggestion, Allendre laughed back over her shoulder as she continued walking. "Great," she retorted gaily. "Tell Neal I'll expect a really wild bash."
&n
bsp; Walking backward proved to be a mistake. As Allendre lifted her hand to wave goodbye she collided violently with something solid and unyielding. Her sandaled feet tangled with a pair of expensive black leather shoes, and she felt herself beginning to fall. Two strong hands gripped her upper arms and, none too gently, set her aside. She heard a loud thump behind her and a few gruffly exclaimed words she wouldn't have cared to repeat. With cheeks flushed crimson, she spun around, an apology hovering on her lips. But when she found the man from the ticket counter raking icy gray eyes over her tensed body, words simply wouldn't come. Her gaze came to rest on the black briefcase that lay on the floor between them, paper and folders spilling out in all directions. Allendre stared down at it with dismay, a pained expression settling on her delicate features.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Again," she muttered weakly, bending to help him retrieve the scattered papers. They reached for the same stack simultaneously, and as his strong, tan fingers brushed against her much smaller hand he snatched the papers away, glaring at her when they nearly bumped heads as they both straightened up again.
"Do me and the rest of the world a favor, will you?" he remarked icily, stuffing the sheets haphazardly into his briefcase. "Tell your Neal not to go overboard on that coming-home bash. You're enough of a menace stone sober."
Allendre was tongue-tied and glanced back toward Lynn, who was watching the scene with some amusement. "She was only…" Her words trailed off as the man ignored her attempted explanation and strode away. She wrinkled her nose at his broad back, then shrugged her shoulders expressively as Lynn gave her a parting grin.
After passing through the security check, Allendre hurried across gate seven's boarding lounge just in time to hear the last call for her flight. After all her eagerness, she had nearly missed the plane, and she was mentally chastising herself for not being better organized when a beautiful, raven-haired flight attendant glanced at her ticket envelope.
