"Imagine that," Nick said, shaking his head. "Funny, I never thought of her as a marrying woman."
"Neither did I. Sort of like you and me, Nick. I never found a woman I could live with. It doesn't look as if you ever did, either."
"I suppose some of us are born loners," Nick replied. Then he remembered Tabby's mention of Daniel as her fiance and his eyes glittered with anger. He felt as if something was being taken from him. Ridiculous, of course. Tabby wasn't his.
The thing was, he couldn't get her out of his mind. All the way back to the college, he had her in his thoughts. It wouldn't do; it really wouldn't do.
Tabby wasn't in. He went by the admissions office and picked up a catalog. It gave some pretty detailed information about the faculty, and he could put that to good use. He strolled up to the floor where Tabby worked on the pretext of looking for her and got an earful from a janitor who was cleaning the hall. By the time he drove back to his parents' house, he had plenty of information to get him started on suspects.
He phoned the agency, and asked for his sister. She could get what he needed without involving any of the skip tracers. He didn't want everyone in the office knowing about his private life.
"What'sup?" Helen asked.
"Tabby's career, if we don't find a thief," he said, and explained what he meant.
"But they wouldn't fire her, would they?" Helen asked worriedly. "I mean, she has tenure."
"That won't matter if that artifact doesn't turn up," he assured her. "I've got a list for you. Right at the top is her new 'fiance.'"
"Daniel?" she asked pointedly, hiding a smile when Nick hesitated before confirming the guess.
"Do you know him?" he asked.
"Sure. He's my age, you know. He and Tabby and I were friends when we were all in college together. He's a bit of a stick in the mud, and I wouldn't call him exciting company. But he's nice, and settled. He'll take care of her."
"More than likely, she'll do the nurturing," he said shortly. "I don't like him. He's a prissy, self-centered snob."
"That, too," she agreed without heat. "It's Tabby's life, Nick. She's entitled to marry the man of her choice."
"Even if he's a rank idiot?" he asked coldly.
"Even then. Give me those names, will you, and I'll start checking. But you won't find anything shady in Daniel's past. He's much too straitlaced to have ever robbed a bank or anything."
"You never really know people until you dig deep," he assured her. "You know that. Got a pencil?"
"Yes. Go ahead."
He gave her the list of names and read her the appropriate information from the college catalog. "Get everything you can," he told her. "And phone me the minute you have anything concrete on any of these people."
"You can count on me, Bro," she agreed. "You might get some input from Tabby. Ask her if she suspects any of them," she said easily.
"That was my original idea," he said. "But I can't get her in the house. She's afraid her reputation will be ruined if people see her go into a house alone with me," he said irritably.
"She lives in an old-fashioned world," she told him. "She's not modern."
"I suppose not. It's so damned silly..."
"Humor her," Helen said. "Probably she's still raw about New Year's Eve. Tabby never drinks, and I really fouled things up for her by telling lies about your intentions," she added with quiet regret. "I was only trying to be a good scout, but I made her life miserable. She's probably embarrassed to be alone with you at all, in case you think she frequently gets drunk and throws herself at men."
"I know she isn't going to let history repeat itself, for heaven's sake," he said angrily. "She doesn't have to avoid me."
“Tell her."
He sighed roughly. "Maybe I should."
"Good man. Go to it. I'll get busy in the meantime. I'll give you a call when I find something. Bye."
She rang off and he put the receiver down. He wondered how long it would take Tabby to get home.
As it was, her car didn't pull into the driveway until dark. Nick watched her out the window, angry that she'd taken so long to come home, that she'd been out with her idiot fiance. Tabby deserved better than that stuffed shirt. She was too good for him.
He went out and strolled over, just in time to open the door for her as she climbed out of her car with an armload of books.
"Oh. Thanks," she faltered. She hadn't expected to see him twice in the same day. Maybe he'd found out something. "Anything new?" she asked hopefully.
He shrugged. "Nothing yet. I'm working on it." He lifted the glass to his lips and caught her eyes on him. "It's whiskey and soda. Want some?"
She made a face. "I hate whiskey."
"You didn't mind it New Year's Eve. Did you?"
She flushed and turned toward her front door. "I have to get inside."
He caught her arm and held her back, so that her shoulder touched his broad chest in its thin shirt. She could feel the warmth, the maleness of him, and it made her ache.
"Don't, Nick," she pleaded gently.
"You did all the running that night," he accused at her ear. "Primped and swanned around me until all I saw was you. Then YOU plastered yourself against me in that black dress that fit you like a second skin and started kissing me." His body tautened with the memory. “I had to do something, quick, so I pushed you away and read you the riot act. But it was for your own good. You have to understand that it wasn't malicious on my part."
"I know that," she said, almost choking on wounded pride. "I'm engaged..."
"Oh, hell, he isn't an engagement, he's an ego trip. You only took up with him to prove to me that I was off the endangered list. Okay. I get the message. You don't have to shove it down my throat."
She turned, the heavy books clasped close to her breasts. "Nick, I'm not marrying Daniel to...to prove anything to you. I'm twenty-five. I want to settle down and have kids. Daniel is settled and he doesn't smoke or gamble or...drink," she added averting her eyes from his drink.
"I don't drink, either, as a rule," he said quietly, "and never to excess. I'm not driving, you notice," he added mockingly.
"Good thing," she murmured, grimacing at his breath. "You could probably fell an oak tree if you breathed on it. For heaven's sake, don't light a match."
"Funny girl," he said without humor. His eyes slid down to her vulnerable mouth and lingered there. "You still don't know how to kiss, do you?" he asked conversationally, ignoring her embarrassed start. “I should have taught you years ago, but you were afraid of me."
"I was not," she said defensively.
"You ran every time I came close," he challenged. "Once, I tried to ask you out. When you saw me coming, you left through the back door."
"I didn't know you wanted to take me anywhere," she said, avoiding his piercing stare. "You told Helen I was a pest and you wanted me out of your life. I got out."
He stood very still. "When was this?"
"That night you came over and asked to see me, when I was eighteen. I figured you planned to warn me off. I had a feeling that someone had told you how I, well, that I had a crush on you, and you were going to tell me it was no use. I didn't want to hear it, so Iran."
He hadn't known about any crush. Helen hadn't told him anything. "Did Helen tell you that she'd said any such thing to me?" he persisted.
"Oh, not Helen. She wouldn't have been so cruel. No. Mary Johnson told me. She said Helen had confided it to her. I was too embarrassed to say anything to either of you about it. I thought everything would be all right if I just kept out of your way. And it was."
"I didn't tell anyone that you were a pest," he said through his teeth. "And I never knew about the crush. Maybe you don't know that Mary Johnson had an outsize yen for me and I had to slap her down, hard. She was one of your circle of friends, I recall."
She stared down at her books. One of them had a creased cover. She traced it with her fingernail. "I thought she was my friend."
"Apparently she wa
s jealous of you."
"Without cause." She sighed. "She said you hated the very sight of me, that I was too plain and dull to appeal to you."
He didn't reply to that. He was trying to take it all in. So pretty little Mary had been the culprit who'd sent Tabby running from him all those years ago, passing lies to Tabby and keeping her at bay. What a travesty. Not that it would probably have mattered, because he wasn't any more ready for marriage then than he was now.
"For what it's worth, all these many years too late, I never thought of you as plain or dull. You had—still have—a keen, analytical mind and more than your fair share of intelligence." He smiled slowly. "You're not bad on the eyes, either. Not that you couldn't use a few more pounds."
"I don't eat much. I work hard."
"So do I." He drained his glass and stared at it. "Why Daniel?"
"Nobody else wanted me," she said involuntarily, and then felt stupid for having said such a thing. "I have to go in now, Nick," she added quickly. "I've got all this research to do for Daniel."
"Damn Daniel," he said carelessly. "Come home with me. I've got a new blues album we can dance to."
"You like blues?" she asked.
"Sure. Old-time blues, what they used to call torch songs."
"I like those, too."
"So Helen mentioned." He put his glass on top of her car and took the books from her grasp, despite her protests. He stuffed them back into the car, retrieved his glass, caught her by the hand and led her over to his house.
"It's dark. I can't," she began, pulling against his grasp.
He ignored her. A minute later, she was behind his closed door with him.
"I won't seduce you," he promised wickedly. "Not without fair warning. Come and have a drink with me while I put on the music."
"I don't drink and I'm not a good dancer..."
He ignored that, too. He put on the music, poured her a soda with a little whiskey in it and handed it to her. While she sipped it, he pulled her against his tall, fit body and began to move lazily to the rhythm while he drank from his own glass.
"You smell of gardenias," he said with lazy pleasure in the feel of her body against his. "I gave you a corsage of them once, remember?"
"When you took me to a class dance in college." She nodded. "I was the envy of every girl there, even though you only did it because Mary got Helen to ask you to."
He frowned. "She didn't."
"Mary said..." she protested.
He held her eyes. "Mary lied. Haven't you caught on yet? She wanted me. She was jealous of you."
"She was pretty."
"Plenty of women are. But I'm selective. Very, very selective. Right now," he murmured, bending close to her, "I have a raging hunger for tall brunettes with bow mouths."
She turned her face away and stiffened. "Don't tease me, Nick, please."
"You tasted of whiskey New Year's Eve night," he said huskily, his eyes still on her mouth. "You slid between my legs and moved on me as if you were born to be a siren, and I thought it was going to kill me to let you go. It damned near did. I wanted you."
"You didn't!" she protested, stopping to glare up at him. "You said horrible things to me!"
"It was that or take you to bed, and I wanted to," he said shortly. His eyes kindled. "You don't know how much I wanted to, Tabby. I could feel your body burning under those layers of cloth and I wanted to strip you down to your skin and make a banquet of you with my mouth."
She cleared her throat. "Shouldn't we sit down? It's rather warm in here."
"Isn't it, though." He moved her toward the mantel. Placing his glass on it, he took hers from her nerveless fingers and put it beside his. "Now," he said quietly.
He lifted her in his embrace as his mouth glided down to possess hers, its movements comforting, slow, encouraging a response that she'd rather have died than give him. But she couldn't resist. He tasted of whiskey and lime and his tongue was in her mouth, probing and teasing and withdrawing like a living thing. She moaned, trying to pull back while she still could.
"Don't fight it," he breathed. "Don't fight me. Open your mouth. Let me teach you how."
She tried to argue, but the motion of her lips only accommodated him more. She felt her body begin to sway toward him. He took instant advantage of that weakness, his hands pulling her hips gently into the thrust of his while he kissed her more and more deeply.
"Don't be afraid," he whispered as he bent and lifted her clear off the floor, his lips touching hers as he spoke. "I won't hurt you."
"Nick," she moaned weakly. But her hands were clinging, not fighting, and her body was on fire for him. It was the old need again, only this time he was giving her what only dreams had provided before. He was loving her, even if only physically.
"There's...Daniel," she tried to speak.
"Damn Daniel," he breathed roughly. "Make love to me."
She felt him place her on the long leather sofa. She felt his weight settling over her, pressing her down, consuming her. He was heavy and warm, and she loved the way he was kissing her, the way he was holding her. Daniel would never have presumed to touch her in such a way, to disregard the rules of conduct that she'd always expected.
Nick's hands accepted no restrictions. They smoothed over her taut breasts as if they had every right. They possessed her, made her ache with their expert caresses. His thumbs eased over the hard nipples and rubbed at them insistently, and he lifted his head to watch her reaction.
She gasped. He liked that, so he did it again. She trembled.
"Move up," he said quietly. When she did, he held her eyes while his knee insinuated itself between her thighs.
She stiffened, but he shook his head. "It's all right, Tabby," he said softly. "I'm only going to move a little closer. It isn't dangerous. I promise you, it isn't. Let me lie over you completely, little one. I can spare you most of my weight, like this..." He rested on his elbows as he eased down, and when she felt the intimacy of the movement, the arousal of his body, she cried out in mingled excitement and fear.
"This is overdue," he whispered unsteadily as his hips lowered. "Long, long overdue. Lie...still!"
Her last sane thought was that she was going to lose her chastity on a sofa. After that, nothing seemed to matter except pulling Nick as close as she could get him to the raging ache in her lower body. It gnawed so that it made her ache and cry out in her need. She'd never known sensations so urgent, so violent, that they pulsed through her like fire.
"Rock under me," he whispered quickly. "Yes. Yes! Lift up to me, Tabby...!"
She tried to, but her body was weak with need, with hunger. Her arms clung to him, gave in to him, while his mouth devoured hers with long, slow kisses that gave no relief at all.
His hand went under her, to force her hips up into the cradle of his. He moved rhythmically, feeling her body jerk as she accepted the intimacy, accepted the arousal of his body in an embrace he'd never meant to offer her.
"I want to have you," he said into her mouth, his body stiff and unsteady. "Are you protected? Is there a risk that I could make you pregnant?"
Risk. Pregnant. She opened her dazed eyes and looked at him. She was twenty-five and engaged to be married, and this man had already devastated her life once with his rejection. How had she managed to forget all that?
He moved involuntarily, and she remembered. Her face flamed as the intimacy they were sharing penetrated the delight he'd kindled in her.
"Nick?" she whispered unsteadily.
He lifted himself a little and looked down at her, at the position she was lying in beneath him. Her long legs were wrapped around his thighs and she was holding him low down on his back.
He smiled through his desire. "My, my," he said huskily. "I think you're getting the hang of this, Tabby."
She followed his gaze and abruptly moved her legs, pushing at him. "Let me go!"
"That isn't what you said five minutes ago," he replied lazily as he complied with her plea.
; She tore out of his arms and got to her feet. Her legs would barely support her. Her hair was askew and hopelessly tangled. Her mouth was swollen. So were her breasts. He'd touched them through the fabric and they were tender. She felt...as she'd never felt in her life, and she didn't know how to handle it.
She stood over him, looking down at the length of his powerful, visibly aroused body and suddenly averted her gaze to his amused face.
"I'm not going to spare you by trying to hide it," he said. "I want you."
"I'm not...in the market for a love affair," she choked. "This isn't why I came home with you!"
"Isn't it?" he asked. He sat up lazily, his eyes acquisitive as they lingered on her soft body. "Are you going to try and pretend that you didn't feel anything?"
"I'm not that good an actress. I expect you could arouse a rock, with your experience," she said shortly. "But I'm not fair game. I'm engaged."
"Not for long," he said, "Not after I tell Daniel what we were doing on the sofa tonight."
"You wouldn't!" she exclaimed, horrified.
"I was having a good time until your conscience reared its ugly head," he said. "God knows why your body is living back in Victorian times when you have such a sensuous little mouth."
"Let's leave my sensuous mouth out of it," she said stiffly. "I have to go home. I've got work to do."
"You could come up to bed with me instead," he coaxed, his eyes soft and coaxing. "I could undress you and love you all night long. By morning, you couldn't remember Daniel's last name if your life depended on it."
"By morning, I'd be suicidal and you'd have a hangover and a guilty conscience that you led me on," she said coldly. "Just like New Year's Eve, when you accused me of everything from seduction to blackmail."
"You weren't ready for me then," he said quietly. "Now you are. That's the difference. I can give you something Daniel never will. I can satisfy you."
"I don't want you to satisfy me, thank you very much," she said stiffly. "I appreciate you helping me clear my name, but my body isn't going to be in lieu of salary. I hope that's understood."
"It is, but it's a hell of a shame," he sighed. "Money isn't half as sweet as you are when you let yourself go, Tabby."
Books By Diana Palmer Page 115
