The elevator door slid open. Rick turned with restrained eagerness and held out his hand.
With a silent prayer, Laurie slipped her ice-cold hand into his. For someone who had spent five long years striving for self-discipline, she was a dismal failure. Alone in that room she would yield.
The room itself conspired against her. Decorated in soft pastels, it boasted a broad, king-sized bed and an impossibly tiny “couch” that didn’t even deserve to be called a love seat.
When Laurie groaned, Rick playfully ruffled her hair. “Take it easy, sweet thing, I’m not going to attack you if you don’t want me to. I’ll just sit here and gnaw the legs off the furniture.”
Wrapping her arms around his back, Laurie hugged him close. “Oh, Rick, how do you put up with me?”
“I don’t know!” he teased, burying his face in the shining floss of her hair. “Ummmm … you smell like flowers in early spring, lilacs and honeysuckle.” His eyes closed and he rested his chin on the top of her head, breathing deeply. “Laurie, I don’t understand all this any more than you do. I’ve had plenty of sex, but sex isn’t love. And that I haven’t had. We’re starting even, you and I. And yet I know, as sure as I’m breathing, as sure as that sun’s gonna set and the moon’s gonna rise, I know you are the one I’ve been waiting for. Don’t ask me how. But it’s as if, when I look in your eyes, I see my own soul.”
Laurie edged away, pushing her hands flat against his chest to get some space between them, some air back into her lungs. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe. “Rick,” she said, gasping, “what if this isn’t love? What if it’s a mistake? I’ve made them before!”
Rick threw back his head and laughed, knowing how impossible that was. “Here,” he said, taking hold of the thin, cold hand that fluttered against his chest and pressing it to his cheek. “See this face? That’s no mistake. And here.” He held her hand hard against his chest. “Feel this heart? That’s no mistake! And here.” He slid her hand down until it was pressed against the flat muscle of his belly. “This body is no mistake, with all its needs and desires. This is real. This is life, and love.”
“But maybe it’s lust!”
“Oh, Lord, you are wonderful!” His laughter rumbled into a growl in his throat. “This is lust.”
He lifted her in his arms, turned, and tossed her onto the bed. In the same swift movement he was on top of her, straddling her body, his knees planted on either side of her thighs, his lips nibbling at the hollow of her throat. He kissed her neck and face and ears, quickly, playfully, his teasing mouth and words coaxing giggles from her even as she wiggled away.
“That, Laurie O’Neill, is lust,” he said, rocking back on his heels at the foot of the bed.
She clutched a pillow to her chest and grinned at him, poised for flight, her lower lip caught between her teeth.
He grinned back, the sweat standing on his brow and at the open collar of his shirt. His voice was a soft, throaty whisper. “But, darlin’, what happens later—when you’re ready—that’s love.”
Sudden tears stung Laurie’s eyes, and she nodded without answering.
Rick sat for a moment, letting the heaving of his chest subside, and then he stood. “I’m going to take a shower, Laurie. There’s a short rehearsal at eight, and then we can grab some dinner. Okay?”
“Sounds fine,” she whispered, weak with desire.
“Okay!” With a wink he disappeared into the bathroom.
Laurie sat at the head of the bed, leaning against the wall, as limp as a rag doll. Fainting seemed like a nice option. Why couldn’t she just swoon away, wake up tomorrow, and never know what had happened?
Instead her thoughts bounced back and forth like Ping-Pong balls. Stay. Go. Make love. Run away. Stay. Hide. What should she do? If only there were someone to tell her, but who? Who could tell her what to do?
Only your own conscience, came the reply.
Like an obedient child she pulled open the night table drawer, took out the phone book, and leafed through it. She’d do what she should have done in the very beginning. The call took only a moment, and she marked the address neatly on the little bedside note pad provided by the management.
When Rick stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his hips, his chest and legs bronzed and gleaming, the dark hair curling damply against his skin, she was standing near the door, her pocketbook over her shoulder.
His smile vanished, one dark brow swooping low over a narrowed eye. “What’s up?” he asked. “Where are you going?”
Feeling her heart twist, she answered lightly, “You’re not going to believe it. I had a friend in the convent who left and moved to Philadelphia. I took a chance and gave her a call. And she was home.” Forcing a bright smile, she weathered his dark silence and went on lightly. “Well, she’s just dying to see me.”
“I bet she is.”
“She is,” Laurie insisted, smiling even more brightly. “And since you had a rehearsal, I thought I’d catch a cab and go on over. I’ll see you later.”
“For dinner?”
“I’ll try. But if I’m late, just have something without me.”
A flicker of pain shadowed his eyes. “I’ll wait.”
“No! Oh, all right,” she stuttered, shifting the strap on her shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”
“Do you want to wait a few minutes, so we could at least ride together as far as the campus?” He searched her face and then licked his dry lips. “No, huh?”
“We’ll be going in opposite directions, I think,” she said, her eyes on the floor.
“I guess so,” he answered. Then he looked at her for a long, silent moment.
Fidgeting under his stare, she raised her eyes and saw the way his dark, wet hair clung to his head and curled just slightly against the back of his neck. Rivulets of water traced paths across the tensed, straining muscles in his shoulders and chest. His skin was all golden and gleaming, so foreign and yet already so familiar and beloved.
Tears brimming in her eyes, she met his gaze, then quickly looked away. “ ’Bye,” she said, and closed the door behind her.
The drive to the YWCA took thirty minutes, and she sobbed noisily in the back of the cab during the entire trip.
“Lady, are you okay?” the cabbie asked as he pulled to a stop in front of the old brick building.
“Yes, of course,” she answered, sniffing loudly.
“You sure?” came the gruff response.
“Yes, I said. I just saw a terribly sad movie—”
“In the hotel?”
“Yes! It was a made-for-TV movie, okay?”
“No skin off my nose, dearie. You just look like hell.”
“Well, thank you, sir,” Laurie snapped, her temper saving her from despair. “Now, if you’ll just tell me how much I owe you—”
“Fifteen dollars even. And here’s some free advice: if you decide to go back to the hotel to, uh, see the end of that movie, call a cab from inside. You wouldn’t want to be standing out on the street by yourself at night.”
“I have no intention of going anywhere.”
“Good. But if you should change your mind, call 555–6000 and let them radio me; name’s Frank.”
Inside, the dour old woman behind the desk gave Laurie a key, and instructed her not to leave her floor to fraternize with men.
Slowly Laurie climbed the two dim, echoing stairways to room number 303. Inside was a narrow bed, an old chipped dresser, and a dingy window. It was silent and empty and painfully lonely. She went to turn the lock on the door and it slipped between her fingers, broken.
Laurie sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the peeling walls while a television movie droned on.
She was miserable.
Noises in the hallway were tinny and unfriendly: doors slamming, strangers shuffling past in the hall. Briskly rubbing her arms, she tried to banish the tiny shivers of fear and loneliness that plagued her.
What was she doing here? Why was she here? Whom was
she punishing?
Carefully, painfully, she went over every moment of the day from Rick’s appearance in the doorway at the senator’s office. Their kiss. The long Jeep ride. The hotel room. What was so terrible about it all? What had frightened her so that she had fled here, back to a tiny room and a narrow bed and loneliness?
Was she afraid of happiness?
Thinking back, she realized this had been the happiest, most carefree, most loving day of her life. Now the day felt hollow, broken. Before, with Rick, it had been full, but now it was empty. Empty room. Empty heart. Empty hands folded in her lap.
And yet her hands remembered the feel of his hair. Her arms remembered the shape and heat of his body. Her senses remembered the feel and taste and smell of him. She wanted that. She did!
Then why run away?
Because in life there was only going forward or going back.
Back was safe and known … and lonely.
But forward was a mystery that had her running and hiding. She didn’t know anything about sex, about sensuality! How did you touch someone else? How did you let someone touch you without bursting into flame? All day she had burned with new feelings that frightened her. She felt like a butterfly just out of the cocoon, a baby bird pushed from the nest.
“Cut the poetry, O’Neill, and figure out what you’re doing before it’s too late!” She groaned aloud, and then gulped in surprise.
How many nights had she stood in her convent room, thinking aloud, just like this? Thinking, and praying, and wishing for happiness.
And here it was!
So what if she hadn’t known happiness would be wearing faded jeans and playing the banjo. Call it beginner’s luck!
Several minutes later Laurie hurried back down the stairs, her heels clattering on the linoleum, and came to a sharp stop in front of the desk.
“Excuse me? Ma’am? I’m checking out.”
“You just checked in.”
“I know,” Laurie replied sheepishly, “but I’ve had a change of heart.”
“There are no refunds.”
“That’s okay. I didn’t expect my money back. I just wanted you to know the room was empty.”
The woman looked at her, pressing stray wisps of hair back into her bun with a dry, thin hand. “Fine.”
Laurie was about to smile, then decided to save it for someone else. “Can you tell me where there’s a pay phone?”
“In the corner.”
Laurie dropped in her coins and punched the numbers. “Hi. Could you please send Frank to pick up a fare at the ‘Y’? He’s expecting the call. Thanks.”
When they pulled up in front of Rick’s hotel, Laurie gave Frank the smile she had been saving and a five-dollar tip.
He shook his head. “You know, with what you spent on cab fare tonight, you and your fella could’ve stayed at the Hyatt!”
“That’s all right.” She laughed. “This is where I want to be. And Frank … thanks for everything.”
Laurie slammed the taxi door, waved, and hurried into the hotel hobby, her skirt twirling about her knees.
The elevator was stopped at the sixth floor and the call button was already lit, but she pushed it anyway, willing it to hurry.
After ten heartbeats she couldn’t stand it any longer and pushed the button again, trembling with impatience.
What if he wasn’t there? What if he was sick to death of her uncertainty, her naivete? What if he had taken her advice and gone out somewhere for dinner … or met someone? He must know dozens of people in this town, and at least half would be women, all sexier and more sophisticated than she. And each and every one would probably have been glad to take Rick Westin out to dinner—or home!
She was so nervous she couldn’t stand still. Her eyes clung to the lights above the door, counting the numbers down to “lobby.” When the door slid open she jumped inside, hit “7,” and stood with her toes at the door as the elevator rose, her arms folded tight across her chest, as if to keep her heart from leaping clear out of her body.
She raced down the hall to 721 and tried the knob, then knocked loudly.
“Rick—Rick, it’s me … Laurie!”
The door was yanked open from inside, and he was there. He took one eager step toward her, then held himself back, his dark eyes studying her face. “Hi, darlin’,” he said softly, his hand resting, white-knuckled, on the doorknob.
For a second Laurie couldn’t say anything. Her head was suddenly empty of words, filled instead with the sight of him in fawn-colored slacks and a pale blue knit shirt, his face and body so beautiful, so beloved. Then she lifted both shoulders in a half-embarrassed shrug and smiled at him. “I’m back.”
“I’m glad,” he answered, and caught her in his arms.
His kiss was hot and passionate, and said all he didn’t say in words. How much he wanted her. How much he needed her. How much the evening had cost him. Her lips snagged like silk against the rough hunger of his mouth.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he said, then groaned when he finally regained a semblance of control. Pushing his fingers through the soft spill of her hair, he tipped her head back so he could look into her eyes. “Where did you go?”
“You mean you didn’t buy my convent story?” she whispered, tracing the outline of his lips slowly with her fingertips.
“Not for a moment,” he answered, nipping gently at her fingers. “You’re a terrible liar; those eyes give you away.”
“Then why didn’t you stop me?”
“Could I have?” he asked, his hand shaping itself to the curve of her cheek.
“No, I was too scared.”
“Of what, darlin’? Not me!”
“Yes, you! You don’t know what you do to me! Now, stop it! Don’t you dare laugh—no, not even grin!—and certainly don’t look at me with that wild glint in your eye.” She smoothed the rough, dark hair back from his brow. “Oh, Banjo Man, you’re changing my whole life: how I think, how I feel … it’s scary. All of a sudden I felt as if you were some incredibly powerful magnet, and I was nothing but tiny bits of steel, jumping, wiggling, in your direction, and I was totally out of control. My body just took over with all these strange feelings, and … and—”
“It’s all right, sweet thing. I was feeling the same way. But I knew you didn’t know that yet.”
He laughed softly into her hair, filling his head with the sweet scent of her. “Laurie, I can tell by the way you look at me, you think I’ve got the secret; you think I’ve got it all wrapped up and tucked in my pocket. But I don’t. Not with you. You’ve got me turned inside out.”
She moaned softly. “Then what are we going to do, Rick?”
“We’re going to let it happen, Laurie. I’m already in love with you … and you, you’re falling in love with me. I’m willing to stake my life on it. I know it scares you; it has to!”
“But I don’t know how. I don’t know if I can handle anything more right now than untangling my own life. I don’t know anything!”
“Oh, yes, you do! You know how to be gentle and loving and caring. You know how to be open and honest. You listen to me and it’s like you’re hearing the thoughts in my head, the things I can’t always say. And you look at me with those incredible eyes and it’s like you’re seeing the man I really am, the man I can’t always show the world. You know all that—I’ll teach you the rest.”
Standing on tiptoe, she kissed him lightly on the mouth. “Well, I’ll try to be a good student.”
Her reaction was playful, not coy, and she was totally unaware of the rush of desire her words and tone awoke in Rick.
He held her tightly, his eyes closed, and then he slowly drew his hands down her back and circled her waist. Reluctantly he pushed her away. “Time for dinner. Shall we go down to the restaurant or—”
“Oh, let’s just order something up, Rick. That way we can cuddle and nibble and talk. It’ll be fun.”
“Oh, yeah.” He swallowed hard, already planning a cold shower for des
sert!
They ordered club sandwiches and chips and cold beer from room service, and sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard and dropping crumbs on the sheets and laughing at Laurie’s foam moustache. When the sandwiches were gone, they split another beer, drinking from the same can, putting their mouths on the same place, smiling at each other over the rim.
“This is wonderful!” She grinned, licking the foam off her lips with her tongue. “Here, you’ve got some too.” Without thinking she leaned over and sipped the foam from his mouth.
Rick stiffened in surprise, then caught her around the waist and swung her up on top of his lap so that her knees spanned his thighs and her body was trapped against his. Holding her tightly with one hand, he pushed the empty plates over the edge of the bed with the other. Then he grinned back at her. “Try that again, woman. Now I’m ready for you!”
“Now I’m not,” she answered, breathless.
“Then I’ll go slow.” He kissed her neck and the tender hollow at the base of her throat, and slipped one finger beneath the neckline of her sweater and dusted kisses across her pale, translucent skin.
“How about taking off a little of this clothing?” he whispered, his warm breath causing shivers across her breasts.
Laurie felt her nipples swell and harden, her whole body begin to ache.
“How about if you go first?” she asked quickly, pressing one hand flat against her chest.
“All right.” Leaning back, watching her, he tugged his shirt free of his slacks, grabbed hold of the bottom edge and pulled it quickly up over his chest and off.
A sharp stab of desire pierced Laurie.
She reached out and pressed both hands flat against his skin, feeling his springy dark hair beneath her palms. Her hands looked small and narrow against his chest, and even when she spread her fingers, she could barely span its width. As her pinkies brushed against his nipples they hardened, and Laurie’s eyes jumped to his face in surprise. “Oh, I’m sorry! Oh, Rick, I—”
“No, no, sweet thing. Don’t be wasting one tiny breath on being sorry.” His voice was husky with desire. “Don’t be scared of my body. It’s just goin’ slightly crazy being this close to you.”
Banjo Man Page 8
