“Oh, Dan! Don’t do this to me.” She pressed her lips tightly to keep from smiling. “Can’t you see, I don’t want to laugh. I want to be mean and bitchy. I feel awful and I want everyone else to feel awful, too. Just go away and let me feel sorry for myself.”
“You can be as bitchy as you want next week, but not today or tomorrow.”
“Why next week?”
“Because I won’t be here. I’m going to Japan for about ten days. Get all the bitchiness out of you while I’m gone.” He bent closer. Under slanting black brows his eyes were clear and searching. There was a long, breathless silence. “Will you miss me?” It was scarcely more than a whisper.
Strange tempestuous feelings threatened to swamp her. She was panting a little and drew the tip of her tongue across dry lips while her eyes focused on the sensual fullness of his mouth. Her brain commanded her to tell him that she would be pleased to see the last of him, but her tongue ignored the order. Her eyes closed as if to blot out the problem, then sprang open as she felt the gentle touch of his lips against her cheek. Writhing in the trap he made by leaning over her, she uttered a faint cry of protest.
“Shhh . . . hh. Shhh ...” His voice was soothing. His lips moved against her unscarred cheek while she struggled desperately to keep her wits about her.
“Do I overwhelm you? Am I going too fast?” His voice was thick. “I don’t play games, Casey. When I find something I want, I go for it.”
The bold possessiveness of his words, the sheer arrogance of them, sent a thrill of excitement through her even while her intelligence rebelled against them. She made a last attempt to assert control over her mind, only to find that her senses were being led into open rebellion by the touch of his lips as they traveled up to her eyelids and then down to her lips, pressed softly, nibbled, and caressed and possessed. He raised his head and looked searchingly into her eyes.
“This break will give you time to get used to me. I won’t rush you into anything, but when I get back we’ve got some decisions to make.”
Confusion darkened Casey’s eyes while her bewildered mind groped for an answer. She rolled her head on the pillow helplessly, and her lips formed the word no, but it didn’t come out of her mouth.
He watched the expressions flit across her face. “I’m going to talk with the doctor now, then pick up your things and take them to your apartment. What shall I do with the checks? I’ll deposit them if you give me a deposit slip from your checkbook.”
When he left her, he walked with quick sure steps to the door, turned and threw her a smile over his shoulder before disappearing into the hall.
Casey lay quietly for a long while mulling over his words. When I find something I want, I go for it. . . . She couldn’t get the words out of her mind. She realized she had never been more vulnerable. She was physically and emotionally wrung out. Was that why she was allowing this man to take over her affairs so completely? The next time she saw him, she promised herself, she would thank him for all he had done for her, then tell him to leave her alone. Oh, dear Lord, she thought, I don’t need this!
Dan left for Japan on Monday. He came by for a brief visit Sunday night, and Casey tried to explain her feelings.
“I’ll be out of here by the time you return. Thanks for everything. You’ve been a great help. I don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate it, but I can go it alone. I always have.” She was sitting in a chair beside the bed. It was the first time she had looked at him from an upright position. Somehow he looked larger, more sure of himself than ever.
“I knew you’d look like that in the blue robe,” he said, ignoring her carefully rehearsed speech. “When I get back well talk to the doctor and set up some kind of timetable for checkups, then well go to Bend. You 11 love it there.”
“Dan! Hold it! I’m getting damned tired of you making plans for me. I’ve told you this repeatedly and I know you’re not dense!”
“No, Casey, I’m not dense, just determined. My mother has a house in Bend that needs someone in it. She travels a lot and has difficulty finding a reliable house-sitter. The job will be perfect for you.” He sat on the edge of the bed. She was acutely aware of his broad chest and lean, muscular body. He radiated more masculinity than any man she had ever met.
“Are you still on a guilt trip?” she asked sharply because she had to say something to cover the feeling that she was being taken over.
His hand reached out and grabbed her forearm and jerked her hand out of her pocket. “Why do you always hide your hands?” He spread her fingers out on his palm and rubbed a forefinger gently over the healing ridges on the back of her hand.
“You’re not blind. You can see why!” She glared at him and tried to pull her hand away, but he tucked an uninjured finger between his and refused to release it.
“Is a beautiful exterior so important to you?”
“You think I’m a vain, silly woman, don’t you? Let me tell you, Mr. Dan Murdock, a woman has to use any means available in order to survive. For seven years I made my living with these hands. I’ve cared for them as if they were a piece of expensive equipment. Now, look at them. How would they look holding a jar of skin lotion or a bottle of glossy nail enamel?”
“I hadn’t thought about it like that.”
The concern in his voice and the unhappy look on his face were almost her undoing. She choked back the lump that rose in her throat and looked away from him. Dammit, why did he have to be so understanding? He barged into her life and had been more concerned for her, given her more help and understanding, than anyone since her mother died. Casey didn’t know how to handle it so she hid behind flippancy.
“At least I can wipe my own nose while I’m crying about it.” She tried to smile, but her lips felt like rubber. She tried to keep her voice light, but it rasped harshly.
“Are you still taking the pain pills?”
“No. I don’t take any more medication than necessary. I don’t believe in it.”
“Good girl! My sentiments exactly.” He got to his feet slowly and loomed over her. She didn’t attempt to tilt her head up to look at him. “Think about what I said about house-sitting for my mother. When I get back we’ll talk about it some more.”
“I can tell you right now—no! I’m not destitute. I’ve no need for Murdock welfare. Thanks, but no thanks,” she said with firm determination.
He sat back down on the bed. “There are times when I would get great satisfaction from turning you across my knee and smacking your backside. Pride is great but you’re carrying it in front of you like a shield. Put it down, Casey. There’s no room for pride between you and me.” His battered features took on a no-nonsense look and the thought passed through her mind that he would make a relentless enemy. He had powerful shoulders and arms. She wondered if at one time he had worked as a lumberjack.
His dark eyes roamed her face. She had known he was coming, but had made no attempt to beautify herself other than brush her hair. She had cut it a little shorter around her face, so that it fell forward over her bandaged ear and swirled low over her forehead to partially hide the deep red-puckered flesh.
“I’m sure your head is still in the Dark Ages, Lancelot, where women were beaten into submission when they refused to walk behind their lords. This is the twentieth century and I may be a damsel in distress, but I need no further help. There’s no reason for you to feel responsible for me. There’s no reason for us to quarrel. We’re strangers to each other and I think it’s better to keep it that way.”
The hard-edged line of his jaw and the sudden narrowing of his eyes warned her that he was angry and stopped her from saying anything else. She turned her head deliberately, giving him a view of her profile.
“That’s not true, Casey, and you know it, but I won’t argue the point now.” His voice rasped across her nerve ends like chalk on a blackboard. She couldn’t help the wave of apprehension that caused a shiver to travel the length of her spine. Strange, she thought, how the same voice could b
e so comforting one moment and so grating in its harshness the next. This was a very complex man.
His voice was dangerously soft, now. “I want to leave with a better feeling between us, but I can see you’re not going to let me do that.”
“So you’re finally getting the drift.” The silence that followed made her more ashamed of those words than any she had uttered in a long while. She had to apologize. It went against her nature to be rude and especially to this man regardless of how he worried her. “I’m sorry, Dan.” She turned tear-filled eyes in his direction, hating herself for not being able to hold them back. “Please . . . I’m trying hard to cope with this change in my life. It’s difficult for me to handle anything else.” She was proud of her level voice. It in no way matched the erratic beat of her heart.
Warm fingertips caressed the side of her face and moved around her ear while dark eyes studied her.
“I understand how you feel, but it’ll be easier if you stop fighting me . . . and yourself. We won’t say any more about a relationship between us. Ill be back a week from Wednesday to check you out of here.” Casey leaned her head against the back of the chair so she could look up at him. “Stand up, Casey,” he said half under his breath with his eyes intent on her flushed face. “I’d like to see you standing before I go.”
Casey found herself obeying mechanically. She felt weak in the knees, but stood with her eyes fastened on his face. She could feel the warmth of his body, far too close to hers, and the warmth of the telltale blood that rushed into her face. To hide it, she bent her head, and looked down at the hand that held hers. Firm fingers beneath her chin tilted her head upward and her eyes locked with his and drew all coherent thinking from her mind.
“I wanted to see you standing beside me,” he said softly. “What I really want to do is hold you in my arms, but I’m afraid 111 hurt you.” She studied his face. It told her nothing except that he was fascinated by her expression. “Why are you surprised?”
Casey opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She moistened her dry lips. She felt as if she were in a vacuum, being drawn toward him.
“You’re . . . taller than I thought you were,” she said.
“So are you. And I’m glad. I won’t have to bend so far to kiss you.” The words were so softly spoken they barely reached her ears. Strange sensations went zigzag along her nerve endings. She wanted to say something flip and clever, but his hands were on her back—almost the only place on her body spared the laceration of the flying glass— and the sensuous dance of his fingertips made rational thought impossible.
“You’re a fraud, my Guinevere. On the surface you appear to be a typical example of an extremely liberated woman, but underneath you’re soft, vulnerable, and would like very much to have someone to lean on, to share life’s joys and sorrows with. I intend to be that man and you might as well accept it.” He smiled, the firm lips flattened against even white teeth. The smile was wicked, teasing, and jarred her to her senses.
“Why do you always have to say something that makes me angry!” She hoped desperately that he didn’t know how nervous and excited she was.
He chuckled softly, his face alive with amusement.
“Somehow I can’t resist. You respond to teasing so beautifully.” His hand was beneath the hair at the back of her neck and he applied a small amount of pressure. “Lay your head on my shoulder for just a moment and see how comforting it is. I won’t hold you tightly, though I want to.” His soft voice droned on with those unreal words and she found herself obeying. “Is this your injured breast?” Gentle fingertips on her bandaged breast accompanied the question.
“Yes,” she murmured quietly.
They stood for a long moment, her smooth cheek resting against his shoulder, his large hands moving gently over her back. Casey closed her eyes and let her other senses take over. She felt the soft texture of his shirt, heard the thump of his heartbeat, smelled the now familiar mint smell of his breath. It was pleasant, comforting to be embraced by strong arms, sheltered . . . cherished.
Her eyes flew open. What was the matter with her? What was she doing? She couldn’t let herself depend on this man, or any man!
“No. No ...” he said softly as he felt her withdrawal. “Stay here and kiss me good-bye. You’re like a bird fluttering its wings. C’mon, kiss me. You 11 have ten days to think about whether you liked it or not.”
Without thinking, she closed her eyes, lifted her
face, and offered her lips. His lips pressed upon hers gently, tenderly, and Casey’s gave quick answer, returning warm, fleeting kisses. A warm tide of contentment came over her as she realized there was no urgency in his kiss. Her mouth trembled under his.
“No maid of my dreams could taste so sweet, my Guinevere,” he breathed against her lips.
The eyes that looked into hers grew radiant, sending her senses reeling, and then there was again the soft union of lips and tongues as their mouths parted. They clung to each other with a leisurely sweetness unaware of the passing time. Then he moved away from her.
“Take care of yourself while I’m gone.”
“You, too,” she murmured shyly.
He smiled and placed a whisper of a kiss on her lips before he turned sharply and left the room.
Casey looked at the closed door and wondered what strange madness possessed her when she was with Dan. More than likely, she thought, that was the last she’d ever see of Mr. Dan Murdock. Kissing him had been a delightful interlude, but now it was over. She could set her mind to more important matters.
She took off her robe and climbed into bed, but somehow her mind refused to take up the more important matters, and continued to dwell on a tall, dark-haired man.
Four
“You’re sure you’ll be all right?”
Casey grinned at her friend Judy. “No. I’m going to pop all my stitches and you’ll have to call the paramedics.”
“My wiseacre friend’s back.” Judy sighed and handed Casey a frosty glass wrapped in a paper napkin. “Drink this daiquiri and tell me why you got the wild notion to come home.”
“I didn’t think I could stand that place another day, another hour.” Casey lounged on her comfortable recliner and looked around her apartment. “Thanks for watering my plants, they look great.”
“Sure.” Judy curled up on the end of the couch. She had eight days off, a break in her schedule with the airline that occurred every few months. “Okay. Bring me up to date on everything. And by the way you look great, considering what you’ve been through.”
Casey cast her a wary look. They had been friends for too long for there to be any pretense between them. “Since when did death warmed over look great?”
“No need to say you were damned lucky. You know it.”
Judy was a small blonde girl with an infectious grin and boundless energy. She was not exactly beautiful, but pretty. Casey had taught her to do the best with what she had—large brown eyes and a flawless complexion.
“I’m lucky to be alive, but everything else in my life has fallen apart.” She closed her eyes briefly, then looked straight at Judy. “You sure find out just how indispensable you are when something like this happens. I still can’t believe Neil would fire me after so many years with the company.”
“Neil Hamilton’s a creepy son of a bitch! You’d already been with the company several years when he came on the scene. He’s jealous of your ability and when you rejected his advances that was the last straw. He was waiting for the opportunity to ease you out.”
“The hardest part of it is that he’s right. I can’t demonstrate any more.”
Judy looked appalled. “Not now, but how about later? Good heavens! Thousands of women have blemishes on their faces and hands. If you could show them how to look good, despite an imperfection, they’d knock each other down to reach the counter and buy Allure.”
“Sounds nice, but Neil won’t buy it.”
“Allure isn’t the only cosmetic firm in the world,” Ju
dy said heatedly. “There’s a Japanese company trying to gain a foothold in the States. I’ve met their representative and I know I can get you an interview.”
Casey’s hand involuntarily crept up to her cheek and nerves knotted in her stomach as she imagined the interviews she would have to go through to get a job. Would she be able to bear the curious stares, the nosy questions? Would the old confidence in her abilities ever return?
“Maybe later, but not now. Just the thought of interviews makes me cringe. I need to get my act together and decide what I’m going to do to support myself. My insurance will cover the plastic surgery, and Dan’s taken care of the hospital bill. I’ve got some savings and Eddie came through with the five hundred he owed me, but I need something to do.”
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