by Janet Dailey
Alanna looked away. "I don't." Her pulse was quickening under his disturbing regard. "I mean, not really, just sometimes." She was stammering, faltering over words and explanations. "There are times when you are ruthless—you have to admit that."
"It seems to be the only way that works."
The bronze mask was molded in uncompromising lines.
"This isn't the time to be discussing it." Alanna pushed more r firmly against his chest. "If you'll let me go, I'll fix your soup." She tried to sound firm and not affected by his touch. "And while it's heating, you can go upstairs and get out of these wet clothes before you catch pneumonia. A hot bath wouldn't do any harm. I'll bring the soup up and you can have it in bed," she said, trying to treat him as a child in need of motherly attention.
"No." It was short and clipped, his fingers biting into her bones. A muscle leaped in his jaw. "I'm not going to bed alone, Alanna, not any more."
The gasp of surprise had barely begun when he fluidly swept her off her feet into the cradle of his arms, checking the sound. He held her there, staring enigmatically into her startled face. His drenched clothes chilled her skin, but Alanna didn't notice it. The fire burning inside distracted all her thoughts.
Slowly he walked to the stairs, carrying her effortlessly in his arms as he mounted the steps. At the head of the stairs, he turned to the master bedroom. The drumbeat of her heart sounded louder than the thunder and more primitive in its origins.
THE TELEPHONE RANG, Alanna slowly opened her eyes, not sure of the sound, awareness creeping slowly through her sleep-drugged body. Sunlight flooded the room. with blinding force. She was lying on her side, the coolness of a sheet against her naked skin. A furnace warmth burned her back, extending over her waist and stomach. Her hand slid down to investigate the heat and encountered the curling hairs of an arm.
She stiffened for an instant, then languidly relaxed under its pressing weight. Rolt's warm breath caressed her shoulder in even breathing, stirring the tangle of hair at the base of her neck. She snuggled closer to him in heady contentment.
A delicious thrill ran through her veins at the memory of his easy mastery of her responses. She hadn't known that pain could mingle so easily with rapture, nor that there could be such a joy in physical union.
A flush colored her cheeks as she remembered the way their insatiable hunger had turned them to each other a second time in the night. She savored the memory. A smile curved her mouth. At last she understood her mother's 'heavenly plateau.' She had glimpsed them last night in Rolt's arms.
The discordant ring of the telephone harshly interrupted her reverie. With a start, she realized it was the sound that had wakened her initially. Fortunately she was lying on the side of the king-sized bed nearest the telephone on the night stand.
As she started to move to answer it, the arm around her waist tightened instinctively. She glanced quickly at Rolt over her shoulder. He was still sleeping. The rough angles and planes of his face were gently strong in repose.
Not wanting to disturb him, she stretched an arm toward the phone. Her fingertips gripped the receiver and lifted it off the hook before it could ring again. Absently, she realized the line downed by the storm must have been repaired.
"Matthews residence." She spoke softly into the mouthpiece, her voice still slightly thick with sleep.
"Alanna, this is Kurt," came the reply. '"Did I wake you?"
"Not exactly." She was suddenly and embarrassingly conscious of Rolt lying beside her. It flamed her cheeks.
"I've been trying to call for over an hour, but the storm knocked your phone out last night."
"Yes, I know," she murmured.
"I was calling to find out if you know what time Rolt left for the plant this morning, I was supposed to meet him at nine and he isn't here yet," Kurt said.
Her gaze slid to the clock on the bedstand. It was a quarter past ten. She swallowed, unable to tell Kurt that Rolt was still sleeping, with her.
"No. No, I don't know. He might have overslept." Alanna allowed a portion of the truth to slip out.
"There were quite a few trees downed by the storm. He might be waiting somewhere for a road to be cleared," Kurt suggested.
"Yes. If I hear from him before he sees you, Kurt, I'll have him call," she promised quietly.
"Thanks, I—"
Alanna never heard the rest of Kurt's sentence. A coolness bathed her stomach and waist as Rolt's arm moved. His fingers firmly took the telephone receiver from her hand. Breathing in sharply, she turned partially on her back to meet the wicked light in the dancing dark blue of eyes. His weight shifted so that he was pressing her shoulders on to the mattress.
"Kurt, this is Rolt." Even as he spoke into the telephone, his mouth was exploring the corner of her eyes, the curve of her cheek and jaw, mortifying Alanna beyond words. Kurt must have been as stunned as she was. "Are you there, Kurt?" Rolt inquired with faint mockery, the line of his mouth curving against her skin.
Teasingly he traced the outline of her lips. They parted tremulously under the tantalizing caress. Alanna moved weakly in protest, embarrassed that Rolt should be making love to her while talking to Kurt and that she should be letting him. Rolt's weight wouldn't release her. She twisted her face into the pillow and he shifted his attention to the vulnerable curve of her throat.
Distantly she heard the hollow sound of Kurt's voice coming through the wires, but she was too swamped by the dizzying sensations to hear his words above her quickened breathing. Gooseflesh shivered deliciously over her skin as Rolt found a particularly sensitive spot on her neck.
"Sorry about breaking our appointment. It was quite late before we got any sleep last night and Alanna was trying to be the considerate wife by letting me sleep in this morning. Weren't you, darling?" Rolt laughed softly against her throat, sending more shivers of irrational pleasure dancing down her spine.
"Rolt, don't," she whispered achingly.
"Let's change it to one-thirty. Will that work out for you?" The fiery trail of his mouth continued its downward exploration, investigating the shadowy hollow between her breasts, then choosing the rounded curve of one for closer inspection. An uncontrollable shudder of desire quaked through her, and her fingers curled into the muscled bronze of his naked shoulders. "And you'd better tell Mrs. Blake I'll be unavoidably detained until noon."
He lifted his head and leaned across Alanna to replace the telephone receiver on its cradle. When he moved back, his arms were on either side of her head, propping him above her. He lazily studied her flushed cheeks and the feverish violet of her eyes.
"Now where were we?" he murmured.
Much later, Alanna lay in the crook of his arm, her head resting against the solidness of his chest, rising and falling at last in even breathing. The dreamy afterglow of satisfaction softly curved her mouth. If she didn't move for a thousand years, it would still be too soon.
But the emptiness of her stomach was reminding her that she hadn't eaten since noon yesterday and she doubted that Rolt had either. Reluctantly she moved away from the warmth of his body, and slipped out of bed. Aware of the sunlight shining brightly on her naked curves and Rolt's eyes watching her, she walked self-consciously to the masculine robe lying over the back of a chair and put it on, tying a knot in the sash at the waist.
"Where are you going?" Rolt asked in a lazy, caressing voice.
"To fix breakfast." Alanna turned, brushing the hair away from one side of her face with a nervous hand.
He was propped on his side, an elbow beneath him, the bedcovers down around his waist. His bare chest and shoulders gleamed bronze in the sunlight, contrasted by the white of the sheets and pillows. The dark light in his disturbing gaze made her blood run swiftly.
"Come here."
Alanna walked to within a few inches of the bed and stood. His hand caught at the ends of the sash and drew her forward until her knee was bent on the mattress. Her senses threatened to whirl her into abandonment again.
"You didn't have dinner last night. You must be hungry," she murmured in semi-protest.
"My appetite doesn't seem to be for food." He released one of the ends of the sash and pulled at the other to loosen the knot, watching the front of the robe open. "I think I'll burn all your clothes and make you wear only this," he said idly, then glanced at her reddened face, "except that I'd probably never leave the house."
His gaze held hers for heart-stopping seconds. The hungry rumbling of her stomach snapped the invisible thread that bound them. Rolt smiled suddenly.
"You'd better fix that breakfast. I don't want you fainting on me."
Alanna was at the bottom of the stairs before her legs finally stopped trembling. When Rolt came down, he had showered and shaved, and was dressed in a business suit. The smile he gave her when she set their plates on the table contracted her heart. The difference was so great when his mouth curved without the jeer of mockery. The silence during the meal was golden and wonderful.
Rolt finished his third cup of coffee and glanced at her. "It's time I left."
Alanna nodded, rising from her chair. "I'll drive you to where you left your car."
They walked to the front door. There, Rolt halted and faced her. Alanna stopped, glancing uncertainly at him, meeting his probing look.
"Will you move your things into my room?" His hand slipped inside her robe, cupping her breast. "Or shall I move my clothes into yours?" he asked quietly.
"I'll move mine," Alanna promised with faint breathlessness.
His exploring hand slid around her to the small of her back, drawing her against him to receive his hungry kiss. The clean scent of him was a heady fragrance. His mouth-carried the taste of rich coffee. It remained on her lips when he lifted his head.
"We'd better leave now or I'll never go," he declared huskily.
The door was jerked open and Alanna walked through it, hiding a pleased smile. It was a wondrous discovery to learn that she could shatter his composure, that his control wasn't as iron-clad as she had believed. He was as vulnerable to the ardor of her kiss as she was to his. The rain-washed world outside looked beautiful and bright. Her heart sang joyously.
Chapter Nine
THE silver gleamed against the white linen tablecloth. The crystal goblets sparkled with rainbow brilliance. The high polish of the china plates glistened richly. Alanna moved the floral arrangement an inch, wondering if Rolt would notice that they were the same flowers that had been in her wedding bouquet. She stepped back and surveyed the table. Candles stood tall and straight in their silver holders; a bottle of champagne was chilling in its bucket of ice.
In the kitchen, the soup was warming on a burner. The salad was waiting in the refrigerator with the dessert. The steaks were marinating, ready to be put under the broiler. Everything was in readiness for Rolt's arrival.
Including herself. Alanna had been floating on a cloud all day. And tonight she wore a lavender cloud, a filmy dress of chiffon with a plunging neckline. It made her feet ethereal and feminine and excitingly alluring. Gliding at least an inch or two above the floor, she moved to the sliding glass door near the sundeck and frowned impatiently at the western sun.
"Oh, please go down early tonight," Alanna requested urgently. "We can't have a romantic candlelight dinner with you shining in."
A car stopped in front of the house. She pivoted toward the wide hall connecting the dining room to the living room, and waited breathlessly in anticipation. The front door opened.
"Alanna?" Rolt's voice demanded an answer.
"I—I'm in here." A bubble of happiness nearly cut off her voice. She didn't rush to meet him. She wanted him to come into the dining room and see her preparations for their evening.
Long strides quickly brought him into view, and the smile of welcome froze on her lips at the coldness of his expression. His gaze swept over the table, stopping icily on her.
"What's this?" A victory celebration?" he accused.
Alanna shook her head in disbelief. This couldn't be the same man who had left the house this morning, or more accurately this noon.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she answered uncertainly.
"Don't you?" Rolt jeered. Alanna winced; until now thinking she had seen the last of his harsh mockery. "Kurt didn't keep his appointment this afternoon."
She looked at him blankly. "I don't understand."
"Really?" he retorted with contemptuous disregard for her confused expression. "He left a message with my secretary saying he was unavoidably detained. That was his exact phrase—unavoidably detained." His repetition of it reminded Alanna that Rolt had used the same expression this morning, the implication jolted her. "It was a perfect twist of the knife by my brother, don't you think?"
"What are you saying?" Alanna breathed incredulously.
"What's the matter?" His lip curled sardonically. "Didn't you know that my little brother had already let the secret out? Were you hoping to let it slip tonight?"
"You don't know what your talking about!"
"Don't I?" Rolt pivoted sideways as if he couldn't stand to look at her. Just as abruptly, he glared at her. "You had me fooled completely. I never dreamed for an instant that you would leave me this morning and meet Kurt this afternoon. And you knew it, too."
"I didn't meet Kurt," Alanna protested.
A dark brow arched arrogantly over indigo scorn of his gaze. "Where were you this afternoon. Alanna? I phone here and there wasn't any answer. You weren't at your parents' either."
"I went into town—" she gestured wildly toward the bottle of champagne "—to buy the champagne for our dinner tonight."
"By sheer coincidence, it happened to be that you were gone at the same time Kurt was unavoidably detained, is that right?" A muscle leaped savagely in his jaw.
"It happens to be the truth, I went into town, bought the champagne and came straight back, without meeting anybody!" Her eyes burned with bitter tears.
"Do you expect me to believe that?"
She sunk her teeth into her lip for a painful second. "I don't expect anything!"
Her voice was choked. She know she couldn't endure his cutting sarcasm without dissolving into tears. She started to hurry from the room, but Rolt intercepted her, grabbing her arm and spinning her around.
"Do you deny that this isn't the first time you've met Kurt since we've been married?" he snarled.
She blanched. Her eyes widened in alarm. The line of his mouth became ominously grim at her reaction.
"You thought I didn't know about your meeting with Kurt yesterday, didn't you?" He pulled her against his chest, coldly looking into her stunned face.
Yesterday—it seemed much longer ago than yesterday that she had met Kurt in the parking lot of the Iron Range Interpretative Center. If Rolt knew about that, then it was no wonder he thought she had been with Kurt today. But after last night and this morning, how could he think that?
"H—how did you find out?" she faltered.
"Office gossip. It has away of traveling fast, especially if it has the potential of scandal. Someone overheard you arranging to meet Kurt when you talked to him in the hall," he explained with cutting disdain.
"I met him, yes," she admitted, "but it wasn't a sordid thing, not like you're trying to make it sound."
"You mean he didn't hold you in his arms or kiss you?" Rolt mocked. "Not even for old times' sake?"
It didn't matter what she said, Rolt was going to believe the worst. Alanna gritted her teeth against the pain tearing at her heart.
"I am not going to discuss it with you," she declared tightly. "What's the use of defending myself when you've already tried and convicted me?"
"The facts speak for themselves," he retaliated.
"Facts! What do you know about facts?" Emotion strangled her accusing voice. "You wouldn't know a fact if it hit you in the face!"
"I know one fact." Rolt let go of her arm and stepped back, his jawline white with the savage ferocity of his anger. Alanna had
the impression that he had released her and put distance between them to keep from throttling her. "You aren't going to see Kurt again."
If he had phrased it in a less dictatorial way, Alanna would have admitted that she wasn't interested in Kurt, but his command was a red cape waving in front of her.
"Do you think you're going to stop me? How? By locking me in? Posting guards like a prison? I'd find a way to escape just to spite you, if nothing else. Nobody tells me what to do! I don't take orders from anybody!" She flared in full temper. "I will see who I want to, where I want to and when I want to—and you won't stop me!"
"You swore once that you'd make my life miserable. At the time, I thought it was amusing, but I underestimated you." The quietness of his voice was more menacing than if he had shouted in rage. "You're more cunning and deceitful that I realized. You are my wife, Alanna. You try to see Kurt again and you'll discover the consequences of trying to get back at me."
"What consequences could be worse than what's already happened to me?" Tears glistened in her eyes from pain and anger. "I don't have a monopoly on making life miserable. You took out the first patent on it, destroying my relationship with Kurt and blackmailing me into marrying you! As for being your wife, that's a circumstance that can be changed. And I will change it, Rolt. Nothing can make me stay married to you."
"Nothing?" he responded smoothly. "What about your mother and father? The day you file for a divorce my support of them is finished."
"My father will have to pay for his own mistakes the way I'm paying for mine," Alanna answered without hesitation. "And marrying you was the biggest mistake of my life."
"I'll fight you, Alanna," Rolt warned. "You're not going to divorce me and marry my brother."
"I won't marry Kurt." There was a brief, negative movement of her head. "I don't want anything to do with men. None of your sex is worth the pain you cause. There's something very ironic in this situation." Her mouth curved bitterly, "When Kurt falsely accused me of having an affair with you, I blamed you for manipulating things to get what you wanted. Now you're accusing me of seeing Kurt, an accusation just as false as his was. This time, there's no one to blame but me, because I didn't know anything about men. But you taught me, Rolt. You taught me well."
