by Janet Dailey
He laughed softly—more, Alanna thought, from her slightly spitting tone than from the content of her remark. Almost carelessly, he tossed the telephone messages on the table top.
"I have no need for drawers and compartments, but I do like a lot of flat working space. As for the rest of this—" Rolt scanned the large room impassively, dwelling briefly on the over-sized sofa that would have dwarfed any average living room "—it has a practical purpose, too. Department meetings can be held around the couch with the various papers and reports spread on the coffee table."
"You never do anything without a reason, do you?" she declared, and immediately wondered what his true reason had been for meeting her at the airport.
"I wouldn't say 'never,'" mocked Rolt, subtly reminding her of the last time he had reproved her usage of the word. "It is convenient, though, when the desire for creature comforts also fulfills a practical purpose."
"I wouldn't have guessed that you were vulnerable to human needs," Alanna replied tartly.
His gaze raked her with slow thoroughness from head to toe. "Do you doubt it?" his low voice inquired in a lazy, suggestive question.
Nearly fifteen feet separated them, yet the caress of his enigmatic blue eyes had been almost a physical touch. It was as if he had personally explored every intimate detail of her figure. Tension stretched between them, taut and vibrating, tingling down Alanna's nerve ends.
A slow warmth crept up her neck, and she turned away before it reached her cheeks and was revealed to his discerning gaze. She refused to make any comment to his suggestive question.
Seemingly of her own volition, her legs carried her forward, putting more distance between herself and Rolt. The closed drapes offered her a destination and she took it. Before her hand could lift the knobby material aside, the roll of a cord opened them.
Her startled look sought the reason and found Rolt, the thick carpet muffling his footsteps as he had joined her at the window. Quickly Alanna looked back to the window, her heart beating rapidly in unknown alarm.
"It's quite a view of the countryside when you can see it." His voice came from just over her right shoulder. Alanna stiffened, trying to judge how close he was to her without glancing around. Too close, her radar told her. "Unfortunately the dust usually leaves a film an inch thick on the glass. That's why I generally leave the drapes closed unless it's after a hard rain. It's a waste of time to have the windows washed."
The hazy view obscured the landscape, turning it into indefinable shapes and silhouettes. Yet Alanna's gaze remained steadfastly fixed on the dust-covered panes. The musky scent of his after-shave lotion drifted in the air, nearly suffocating her with its heady aroma. She longed to move away, but to turn in any direction ultimately meant facing Rolt.
And Alanna felt uncomfortably vulnerable. It was as if he knew the havoc he was wreaking on her senses and delighted in shattering her poise. The knowledge added fuel to her fire of dislike.
"How much longer will Kurt be?" she demanded tersely.
"Does it matter?"
His hand touched her forearm. His intention was obviously to turn her around, probably into his arms. But Alanna was having none of it. Pivoting away from his touch, she violently pushed his outstretched hand away from her, eyes flashing her fury.
"Yes, it matters," she hissed. "If it will be very much longer, I prefer to wait for him outside."
Rolt towered above her, strangely remote as he looked down at her in a narrowed gaze. Inwardly intimidated by his poised attitude of retaliation, Alanna didn't back down under his piercing look. A flicker of a smile touched the corners of his mouth.
"That won't be necessary," he replied smoothly. "He's cooled his heels long enough in the outer office."
"He's here?" she breathed in frowning disbelief.
"Mrs. Blake notified me of his arrival a few minutes ago." There was a complacent gleam in his eyes.
That was impossible. She had been with him every minute. "How?"
Briefly inclining his head, he indicated the table behind them. The movement highlighted the golden cast to his coffee-brown hair. "The small light illuminated on the telephone," he explained. "I dislike buzzers."
Her fingernails dug into the palms of her hands. "Do you mean Kurt has been out there all this time I've been waiting for him?"
"Not quite all of the time," Rolt qualified, and turned away to walk to the phone. Picking up the receiver, he punched a button and spoke into the mouthpiece. "You can send Kurt in now, Mrs. Blake."
The audacity of the man infuriated Alanna beyond measure. Strangled by her inability to express it, she could only glare at him. There was no time for any joyous anticipation of Kurt's arrival. The interconnecting office door opened and he walked in.
"You wanted to see me." Kurt's attention on entering was naturally focused first on Rolt. He was several feet inside the room before he noticed Alanna standing at the window. The handsomely masculine face was immediately wreathed in a beguiling smile. "Alanna!"
This was not the way she had visualized their meeting with her trembling in impotent rage at his brother, thus unable to respond with the same degree of gladness that had been in Kurt's voice.
"Hello, Kurt." Her answering smile was stiff and insincere.
He walked toward her, tall and darkly handsome, the light in his eyes warmly admiring. A part of her wanted to rush into his arms, knowing she would be welcomed, but she was too aware of the silent and mockingly observant Rolt. She didn't move, awkwardly waiting for Kurt to come to her.
"I'm sorry I wasn't able to meet you at the airport." His gaze inspected the lavender thunderclouds still lurking in the shadows of her eyes.
"It's all right." Alanna shook her head, trying to relax. "R—your brother explained the problem."
Unwillingly her gaze slid to Rolt. Some time during the course of her meeting with Kurt, Rolt had lit a cigarette. It was between his fingers, gray smoke curling to screen his look. There was something indolent about his stance, the tailored jacket thrust open by the hand in his pocket.
"I think the lady is waiting to he kissed, Kurt." His low voice traveled across the room to taunt Alanna.
"I don't need to be prompted," Kurt laughed softly, apparently finding nothing offensive in his older brother's remark, but then he wasn't aware of what had transpired at the airport.
Kurt's sunny blue gaze hadn't strayed from her face. It continued to beam on her as his hands closed over her shoulders and drew her toward him. He would never understand her desire to avoid the kiss and she was loath to have to explain. Under the circumstances, there seemed little else she could do but lift her head for his kiss.
The pressure of his mouth warmly covering her own would have been something she normally would have cherished and returned. As it was, with Rolt watching them with bold indifference to his intruder status, it was impossible for Alanna to respond except in the most half-hearted manner.
When Kurt lifted his head, there was a perplexed light in his gaze as he searched her face. Knowing he couldn't have failed to notice her lack of response to his kiss, she tried to sidetrack his attention from the fact.
A fingertip lightly touched a corner of his mouth. "I'm afraid you have lipstick all over you," Alanna stated in a contrite tone.
"I don't mind," he smiled.
"Here." Rolt's voice broke into their private conversion. He moved to within a few feet of them, offering his linen handkerchief to Kurt. "Use mine. It's already soiled."
Both Alanna and Kurt glanced at the white cloth simultaneously. The beige-pink shade of her lipstick stained the material, contrasting sharply against the stark white. The freshness of her lipstick had probably smeared on Rolt's mouth too when he had forced his kiss on her, but Alanna had been too angry to notice. He had left her almost immediately to obtain her luggage. It must have been during his absence from her that he had used the handkerchief to wipe away her lipstick traces.
Rolt had given the same handkerchief to Kurt. Realization flashed through A
lanna that he had done it deliberately. In his own cunning way he had set up the incident, first prompting Alanna to freshen her makeup, then prompting Kurt to kiss her. Now he had produced the handkerchief to show his younger brother that he had kissed his girl.
As Kurt rather numbly took the handkerchief, his gaze riveted on the lipstick traces, Alanna sent Rolt a killing look. But his heart was encased in iron and it deflected her invisible daggers, leaving a bemused light in his hooded look.
Kurt rubbed the cloth over his mouth, briefly comparing the matching traces. Pride lifted Alanna's chin at the upward movement of his head. Bright with silent challenge, his questing gaze centered on Rolt. Rolt took the handkerchief from Kurt's hand.
"I stole a welcome home kiss at the airport," he stated calmly.
At least he didn't imply that she had given it freely, Alanna thought grimly. There was a thoughtful stillness about Kurt's expression as if he was still considering the information. Whatever his conclusion was, it wasn't written in his light blue eyes when he looked at Alanna. But she thought she detected a faint tautness along his jaw line.
"Here's the keys to my car. Alanna's luggage is already in the trunk, so you might as well use it." Rolt tossed the keys to Kurt, lightning reflexes allowing him to catch them. "You'll want to take her home now."
"Yes, I will." Kurt's fingers closed over the keys, concealing them in the fist of his hand. An arm partially encompassed her shoulders to rest a hand between her shoulder blades.
Rolt moved toward his desk table as they turned to leave. "Before you go, Kurt, I want to give you fair warning." He picked up the telephone and punched out a series of numbers, not even bothering to glance at his brother as he spoke, nor at Alanna. "You've had a clear field with Alanna for long enough. Now I'm joining the competition."
Gasping, she couldn't believe that she had heard right. His boldness was unbelievable—he was talking about her as if she wasn't even in the room, then referring to her as if she was some prize to be won and not a human being capable of deciding for herself which man she preferred.
Hadn't she made it plain she heartily disliked him? And the audacity of telling his own brother that he was going after his girl! Alanna didn't know whether to unleash her temper or laugh at Rolt's limitless conceit.
Kurt, who had stiffened at the announcement, was evidently tom by conflicting reactions, too. He glared silently at the ruggedly carved profile Rolt presented to them.
The moment passed when either of them had an opportunity to respond. Rolt had reached the party he had dialed. "Hello, Sam. I have a message here that you called…"
Kurt's hand tightened on her shoulder. "Come on, let's go," he said gruffly.
The firm pressure of his hand on her back guided Alanna out of the office. She was as eager to leave as Kurt was. Neither spoke as they left the building. In the car, Kurt jammed the key in the ignition, then leaned back in the bucket seat without starting the motor.
"About what happened in there—" he sighed heavily.
"I know Rolt is your brother," Alanna interrupted, still influenced by her anger, "but he's the most overbearing, arrogant man I've ever met. Do you realize the way he maneuvered both of us?"
"I'm beginning to get a fairly good idea," he nodded, a dark brow arching upward in retrospection. His hands clenched the steering wheel, knuckles mining white under the fierceness of his grip. He gave her a sideways glance, alertly watchful "He meant what he said, Alanna. I know him too well to doubt that."
"You mean about wanting me?" At Kurt's affirmative nod, she exhaled a contemptuous breath. "I can't stop him from trying, but he isn't going to get anywhere."
"Rolt attracts women the way flypaper attracts flies."
"This is one woman who's completely immune to his brand of primitive charm," Alanna declared emphatically.
"Everyone has violent feelings toward him one way or another," Kurt insisted, "sometimes feeling both ways at the same time, including myself. But I don't think anyone can remain immune."
Alanna knew which category she fell in—the one feeling violently against Rolt. He had made a fiasco of her homecoming. Nothing had gone as she had planned. He had dominated nearly every second of it. Even now, she was sitting here alone in the car with Kurt and what were they talking about? Rolt.
Gazing at Kurt, so dark and so handsome, Alanna knew he was everything she had ever dreamed about. Rolt would never change that. He would never he able to come between them no matter how hard he tried. She was foolish to remain upset, nurturing her anger for him.
"I've missed you," she murmured. The shimmery fire of frustration became a glow of loving adoration as she gazed at Kurt.
A crooked smile slowly moved across his mouth. "Have you?" The troubled light was slow to leave the eyes that searched her face. Then one hand reached out to clasp hers. "I wanted to meet you at the airport," he declared huskily. "If only that damned equipment hadn't broken down, I would have."
"We can't change what's past." Alanna implied that it wasn't important any more. "But we can forget it and start from scratch."
"Yes, we can," Kurt agreed, "starting now."
He curved his other hand around the back of her neck and gently drew her half-way to meet him. A long, satisfying kiss claimed her lips and this time, without the disconcerting presence of his brother, she responded to it. When it was over, he remained close to nuzzle her cheek and tease the corners of her mouth.
"I could continue in this happy vein for much longer," he murmured softly, his warm breath caressing her skin. "But bucket seats are simply not designed for making love with any degree of comfort.' Lightly he kissed her lips once more and moved away. There was a wry twist of his mouth as he started the engine. "Of course I doubt that Rolt has made love in a car in a very long time."
Forget, she had said. Yet already Rolt's name had crept into the conversation. She sighed inwardly as she leaned back in her seat. Something told her that Rolt was not going to be an easy man to forget or ignore.
Irritatedly, she brushed a silky curl away from her cheek. The downward movement of her hand touched the collar of her blouse, and its gaping plunge to a vee immediately brought back the recollection of her struggle in this very same car with Rolt. Her flesh burned where he had insolently touched her. An angry resentment again rose inside her.
"Let's celebrate your homecoming tonight," Kurt stated as he drove out the gate. "I'll pick you up at six and we can get an early start. How's that?"
Alanna glanced at her watch, readjusting the direction of her thoughts. "It's my first night home. Mom and dad will expect me to spend some time with them."
"Make it seven, then," he compromised, sliding her a sparkling look. "You'll be home all summer. They can see you every day and I'll see you every night."
"Every night?" she teased.
"Well, I can't leave any free time open for Rolt to slip in," he stated. "He will be coming around, you know."
"He's going to be in for a very rude surprise if he does." There was a defiant tilt of her chin. "Because I'll show him the door so fast that he won't realize what's happened until it's over."
"I'd like to be there," Kurt laughed. "That would have to be a first for him."
Alanna joined his laughter, suddenly relaxing, no longer angered by Rolt's assertion that he would win her, only amused. There was vengeful pleasure as she anticipated the moment when she would tell him to get lost. She would enjoy dealing that blow to his male ego. It sorely needed deflating.
After their laughter had erased the subtle tension, it was easy for their conversation to switch to less disturbing topics. Alanna chattered happily away about the university, her exams and her plan for the summer vacation, not mentioning the large role she hoped Kurt would play in the latter.
Her high spirits at returning home were in full bloom when the car pulled into the driveway of her home. With a suitcase in hand and Kurt following with the rest, Alanna walked eagerly to the front door. It was opened before sh
e had a chance to reach for the doorknob. A tall, spare woman stood within the white frame, her angular face wreathed in a smile of astonished delight.
"We didn't expect you until tomorrow!" she exclaimed.
"Hello, Ruth, I finished my exams a day early and caught the first flight out of Minneapolis," explained Alanna.
"You should have let us know," the woman remonstrated, giving her a quick hug before ushering her into the house and holding the door open for Kurt, laden with the rest of Alanna's suitcases.
"I wanted to surprise mom and dad." She glanced around the empty living room. "Where are they?"
"Your father is out playing some golf and Elinore is upstairs, resting before dinner." The housekeeper motioned for Kurt to set the bags inside the door.
"How is she?" Alanna's smile became slightly serious as she gazed earnestly at Ruth Ewell.
Referring to the woman as a housekeeper was really a misnomer. She had been hired first as a daily help when Alanna's mother had been expecting her. It had been doctor's orders that Elinore Powell do as little as possible, hoping to avoid the miscarriages that had ended her other three pregnancies.
During the months before and after Alanna's birth, her mother and Ruth Ewell had become friends. She had continued working for them on a daily basis until her husband passed away four years ago. At that time, Elinore had insisted that Ruth move in and live with them.
Because of the close, almost sister-like relationship between her mother and Ruth, Alanna had never looked on her as a domestic employee. She had become more of an adopted aunt than a paid housekeeper. Since her mother's stroke two years ago, Ruth had been the rock that held the household together.
"Her left arm is still a bit numb, but the doctor says she's doing nicely. Of course, Elly insists that she's as fit as a fiddle," Ruth confided in a skeptical tone, using her pet name for Alanna's mother. "But I notice she always lies down for a couple of hours in the afternoon, so she isn't as strong as she pretends." She waved a hand, slightly gnarled with arthritis, toward the living room. "You two go and make yourselves comfortable and I'll bring some coffee from the kitchen."
