He must be losing his mind.
Amanda was as likely to shed her inhibitions as he was to run for political office.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE DEEJAY WAS SPINNING her favorite song on the radio, but Amanda didn’t notice. Nor had she noticed the hints of early spring in the air or the pretty scenery all around her as she drove to meet Kyle at the cinema complex in the mall. Her mind kept drifting back to Friday’s taping of Theater Talk.
Stopping for a red light, she continued to mull over Kyle’s behavior. She still had trouble believing he’d pulled such a dirty trick. It had been a cheap shot, agreeing with every one of her reviews. One she wouldn’t have thought him capable of.
What had prompted his low-down, underhanded behavior? she wondered. Did she threaten him that much? Could it be possible he wasn’t really as self-assured as he came across? It was true she didn’t actually know much about Kyle Fox, other than his reputation. She supposed a reputation based on sex appeal could leave one feeling uncertain about their professional ability.
Her confidence in her professional ability was built on hard work. She knew her movie history cold. And her fans had confirmed her judgment, agreeing with her reviews of movies nine times out of ten.
Perhaps she was conning herself, looking for a reason to believe Kyle was better than he was because she was so attracted to him.
So he was gorgeous. She hadn’t exactly fallen off the turnip truck when she’d arrived at KCNX. She’d seen gorgeous guys before, had even dated her share.
The bottom line was that none of them, other than the actors up on the screen in a darkened movie theater—had ever stirred the intimate feelings and fantasies that thoughts of Kyle conjured.
He was a living, breathing man, and as her co-worker, as untouchable as the make-believe characters on screen. She was going to have to learn to control her sultry thoughts of him. Certainly one of them thinking he was God’s gift to women was more than enough.
Waiting for the light to change to green, her hands drummed nervously against the wheel. Today would be their first viewing of a film since Kyle had pulled his stunt of agreeing with all her reviews. Why did she have to feel all melted bones in the presence of someone who disdained her?
The light changed to green, and she turned into the shopping center parking lot.
At least there were limits to what she’d do in the name of competition, though she’d be foolish not to take advantage of any good luck, breaks or opportunities that came her way.
Breaks like Kyle’s fascination with her anklet when they were on camera. It had led to his faux pas, giving her the opportunity to make something of a comeback in her goal of creating a controversial show. If Noah’s response was any indication, she’d salvaged the taping from being a total flop, at least.
A tiny smile touched her lips as she recalled how the taping had ended. She wondered what kind of response Kyle’s blundered “Huh?” would elicit from Theater Talk’s audience when it was shown this week. With any luck at all, it would create the kind of controversy that would increase Theater Talk’s audience, thereby building the odds in her favor when it came to her continuing with the show.
As she strode inside the mall, she checked her watch and determined she was ahead of schedule. Not only would she have time to drop off her anklet at the jeweler’s for repair, but there would be time to do some browsing before she had to meet Kyle. Maybe she could walk off some of her jitters. She had a feeling Kyle wasn’t going to be pleased to see her, not that he ever was.
The shopping center was fairly empty. It was the time of day when shoppers abandoned the malls to get home before their children returned on the school bus. Amanda felt more comfortable without the crowds. The bump and shuffle of crowded malls still unnerved her a little. She was used to space to maneuver in. Though she loved the big city’s advantages, she hadn’t yet made the conversion to big-city dweller.
At the jeweler’s she dropped off the anklet she’d broken pulling on her boots. It was the only anklet she owned. She’d have to be more careful of the delicate chain in the future, noting that the price of gold soldering had inched up again.
Leaving the jeweler’s with a good half hour to kill, she stopped to browse at the little perfumery jutting out into the mall walkway. Perfumes were a particular weakness of hers.
As Amanda browsed, a pretty salesgirl wearing too much makeup studied her. Amanda’s hair was sleeked back in a ponytail clasped in a banana comb. Her raspberry lip gloss was her only discernible makeup. The salesgirl was about to suggest a pure, clean-scented cologne when Amanda picked up a small, smooth amber bottle.
She recognized it from the exquisitely sensual print ads on the glossy pages of fashion magazines. The ads had intrigued her so, she’d sent for a sample vial of the perfume, using an order blank from a special promotion in the magazine. It had been that sample she’d sprinkled over the fantasy she’d written to Kyle. If she was going to write another fantasy, she would need some more of the same perfume.
She paused briefly to consider. Was she going to send him another fantasy?
He deserved one as retribution for the stunt he’d pulled at the taping. She smiled at the name of the perfume in her hand—Pleasure.
“I’ll take this,” Amanda said, handing the salesgirl the provocative perfume.
‘‘Would you like it in any other form? A bath powder or cream, perhaps?”
“No, that will do,” Amanda answered, her eyes sparkling with secret satisfaction. She couldn’t actually wear the perfume without giving away the game.
When the sale was completed, Amanda still had a good twenty minutes to kill. She didn’t want to face Kyle any sooner than she had to.
Deciding to splurge on a pair of silk stockings, she headed across the mall to the lingerie boutique. The shop’s sweet fragrance met her at the door.
“Hi,” the young girl behind the counter called as Amanda walked deeper into the boutique.
“Hello,” Amanda answered, heading for the display of stockings.
Making her selection, Amanda handed them to the teenager.
“Silk stockings….” The teenager sighed. “My Aunt Zoe says they feel wonderful. She owns this boutique and lets me work here after school. I’m going to major in fashion merchandising.”
“It’s a lovely shop,” Amanda commented, continuing to browse.
“If you like teddies, some really radical ones came in today,” the teenager said, pointing to a rack of provocative teddies on the side wall of the tiny boutique.
Since she still had time to kill, Amanda wandered over to the display and in no time at all found a demure white teddy with a touch of wispy lace. There was no one else in the boutique, and the teenager cajoled her into taking it to try on in one of the shuttered dressing rooms that lined the back wall.
Amanda hadn’t needed much encouragement and laughingly added a satiny black camisole and tap pants on her way. Inside the dressing room, she hung the lingerie on the white china hook above a little blue velvet chair. When she slipped out of her clothes and boots, she studied her reflection in the mirror. Her skin was a peachy-cream color unkissed by the sun, and her curves were sleek.
Smiling at the folly of the demure white teddy, she stepped into it. Her image in the mirror pleased her. She looked…well, sexy.
Was it time she stopped concentrating on her career so intently that she obliterated the trappings of femininity? she wondered. Time she took some chances and stopped playing safe?
What would Kyle think about the scrap of nothing she was wearing, she mused, trying to study her reflection with his eyes.
She was just pulling up the ribbon strap that had slipped off her shoulder when she heard a deep male voice, the very sound of it causing her nipples to pebble against the smooth silk in response.
“I wonder if you could assist me, miss? I’ve been given strict instructions that I’m to purchase a chemise, yet I’m not ce
rtain I know what one is, exactly.”
Amanda’s consciousness recognized Kyle Fox’s voice just seconds after her body did, and she froze, staring at her sensual image in the mirrored dressing room. A blush of embarrassment stained her cheeks. Irrationally, she felt he could see her standing there, wearing the provocative wisp of nothing, her body aroused merely by the sound of his voice. She peered cautiously through the slats in the dressing room door.
“Ah…ah…” the teenager stuttered. “Ah…right. We have some over here on this rack,” she finally managed, recovering her composure somewhat. The time of day she worked didn’t usually bring in men. Though Kyle’s sexual charisma would have left her tongue-tied in any situation.
Kyle nodded and followed the teenager to the rack she indicated, where she selected a chemise trimmed in cameo lace and offered it for his inspection.
“Do you have the same thing in white?” Kyle asked, satisfied with the style.
“Uh…do you know…uh…the size?”
Kyle squinted a minute and thought. “A small ought to do it, I think.”
The teenager disappeared to check the stockroom in the back of the boutique.
Amanda’s hand flew to her lips and her body stiffened in apprehension when Kyle turned and walked directly toward her dressing room. She stopped breathing until she realized he wasn’t going to fling open the shuttered door and expose her. It had only been her imagination running amuck.
She exhaled with relief when she saw him stop a few feet from her to examine a white teddy, the same style she had on. His hand reached to slide the material between his fingertips, and she turned away, feeling as if he were touching her somehow. She slipped the white teddy she’d tried on from her body and tossed it onto the little velvet chair.
The sudden movement in the quiet, empty boutique caught Kyle’s attention. His eyes lingered with naughty indulgence on the delicate ankles and prettily arched feet visible beneath the shuttered dressing room door. The nails on the toes of the slender feet were painted a pastel shade that blushed sweetly against the apricot carpet of the boutique. Kyle’s tongue roamed the inside of his cheek as he savored graceful hands, their long nails painted the same pastel shade, slipping black satin tap pants up over bare feet and sleek calves. A quiet sigh escaped his lips as his mind visualized the scene behind the door.
The sound caused Amanda to check on his where-abouts nervously. She peeked out the shuttered door and saw him studying an outrageously sexy, red merry widow on display close by. She watched as he fingered the passionate touches of lace along its demi cups and above the snappy garters. The matching bikini panty was nothing more than a playful bit of lace on satin. Savage, risqué thoughts glittered in her eyes.
“I found one. You were lucky. It’s the last one we have in that size in white,” the teenage salesgirl called, returning from the back of the boutique. “Is it a gift? Do you want me to wrap it for you?”
The teenager’s return had interrupted the intensely erotic moment Kyle and Amanda had shared…separately. Amanda looked down at her palms sheltering her naked breasts. A rosy flush suffused her skin when she realized her fingers were squeezing them.
Kyle had turned from the merry widow to answer, “Yeah, that’d be great. I’m all thumbs when it comes to wrapping things.”
The air conditioning kicked on in the boutique, and the vent above Amanda blew cool air over her flushed body.
“I’ll be right with you when I finish with this customer,” the teenager called out to her cheerfully.
Amanda cringed, feeling guilty and exposed.
Kyle slid his charge card back into his wallet after signing the carboned slip. When the teenager had his package ready, he took the gaily wrapped box from her, his peripheral vision catching a glimpse of black satin falling against the apricot carpet of the dressing room. A softly erotic image of the woman who’d been trying on that bit of black sin stole into his mind.
He was smiling his secret thoughts as he entered the card shop in search of a birthday card for his little sister to go with the present he’d just bought to mail her.
AMANDA HURRIED TOWARD the escalator after stashing her purchases in the trunk of her car. She’d been so flustered she’d bought both the demure white teddy and the racy black camisole with its matching tap pants. The subtle eroticism of the boutique and the feelings Kyle’s presence had stirred had threatened her sense of control.
He wasn’t waiting for her outside the cinema as she’d expected. Figuring he’d already gone inside since she was running late, she got her ticket at the box office and entered the cinema lobby.
Kyle was leaning against a wall, his hand resting on his hip, the package from the lingerie boutique set at his feet. He and the package were a sexy combination, inviting all kinds of fantasies in her mind.
When he caught her eye, he looked down at his watch pointedly, then back up at her. “Did you just get here?” he demanded in mock-outrage, getting back at her for her tirade over his tardiness at the first film they’d previewed together.
“Uh…yes,” she lied.
“Trying to avoid me so you won’t have to explain that little stunt you pulled on me at the taping?” he asked, baiting her.
“Me!”
“Yes, you.” He raked his hard eyes over her. “You know perfectly well you set me up real good.”
“Did I?” Amanda asked blithely. Trying to make a stab at recovering her composure, she moved to the concession stand to get her popcorn and soda.
“‘Did I?’” Kyle mocked in a falsetto, picking up the package at his feet and following her. “Come on, you don’t really expect me to believe you’re as innocent as you act. Hell, nobody’s that damn innocent.”
Better to get away from that line of thought, Amanda decided, remembering the fantasy she’d sent him. “And I suppose you didn’t plan to ambush me with all those ridiculous reviews you did, agreeing with me at every turn?”
“Don’t get righteous on me, lady. You’re the one who invaded my turf. I wouldn’t be much of a man if I took it lying down on my back, would I?” His smile had double entendre written all over it.
Amanda ignored the double entendre. “Look, I’m not trying to take anything away from you. I only want to make things better. If we share—”
“Yeah, that’s what the whites told the Indians.”
“Why can’t—”
“Look, we’ll argue later. The movie’s going to start, and you know what a fuss you make over being late,” he said, steering her and her popcorn toward the theater showing the feature they were to review.
“What about your popcorn? Aren’t you having any?”
“You’re the one who’s so big on sharing…so I’ll have some of yours,” he answered, sliding into the seat beside her. He had her, but not quite yet where he wanted her.
KYLE SLID INTO his black Corvette, anxious to get home. The speech he’d given at the college on new directors had gone well, but the question-and-answer period had seemed to last forever. He’d had trouble concentrating on the questions and hadn’t done his reputation as an astute movie critic much good. It was all Amanda’s fault. Everyone he met wanted to know all about his new partner and what had happened on Theater Talk. The tape he and Amanda had done together had been shown Tuesday night. They were due to tape next Tuesday’s show tomorrow night.
It was a warm, muggy evening, and the breeze created by the speeding Corvette did little more than fan hot air at him. He’d taken off his unstructured navy jacket and laid it on the empty passenger seat. His narrow leather tie, which had nearly strangled him, was lying across his jacket. As he drove he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. At least the gray pleated pants he wore were lightweight and cool. He could put the top on and turn on the air conditioner, but he liked to feel the wind rushing against his skin.
He stopped at the drive-through window of a restaurant along the way and picked up some roasted chicken. He’d been bus
y and had forgotten to eat all day. During the rest of the drive home, he listened to a tape he’d mixed himself. The first song was “Pink Cadillac.” It was great driving with the top down to that sort of song. It ended and Aretha Franklin started up “Who’s Zoomin’ Who?” Yeah, he wondered. Who was zooming who?
He’d sat with Amanda reviewing a feature Monday night. It hadn’t worked. He’d wound up once again having to preview the movie over. When he was that close to her, whatever was on the screen couldn’t compete. The rest of the week, she hadn’t had to choose a seat far away from him at the previews. He’d taken care of avoiding sitting next to her. Could she really be as innocent of her effect on him as she let on?
The aroma of the roasted chicken wafted from the take-out package, and his stomach told him to open the package and munch. But he was much too fastidious a person to eat in the car.
When he pulled up in front of his condo, he wondered if there would be a pink envelope waiting for him. If he was honest, he had to admit that was the reason he was in such a hurry to get home. That and the roasted chicken. Any way you looked at it, he was hungry. He’d been surprised to find he was more than a little disappointed there hadn’t been a follow-up by the fan who’d written him the fantasy letter.
A few minutes later he was opening his door and his nostrils were being assaulted with the sexy perfume he remembered. A smile wreathed his face as he glanced down at the quarry tile entranceway, anticipating a pink envelope lying in wait. What the…? His smile wilted. There was no envelope.
Where was the perfume coming from? Had the fan gotten a key somehow? Was she here waiting for him? He walked through his living room and on to the kitchen. Setting the package of roasted chicken down on the counter, he looked around him and followed his nose. The smell was so slight in the kitchen as to be nonexistent, but the closer he got to the front door, the stronger the scent became. And then he saw the pink from the corner of his eye. The envelope had gotten caught on the mail slot’s flap. He reached for it with a sigh of relief.
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