He expelled a huge breath and wished he could be a scholar and not a man all the time instead of merely from time to time. It didn’t seem right that both parts of him should be so inextricably entwined with one another in a situation like this.
But this was a human condition, he supposed, and there was no gainsaying it. Because he was embarrassed by his condition—not that Brenda could see it since, except for that one shaft of moonlight penetrating the leaves overhead, the atmosphere was black—he decided it might hurry things along some if he were to apologize for his behavior earlier in the day.
He supposed be owed her that, although he was slightly miffed by what he assumed would be her reaction to his present state of arousal. After all, wasn’t that why she was so successful? Because men found her sexually attractive?
Actually, that probably didn’t account for all of her popularity. He understood that Brenda was fairly worshiped by young ladies across the country. He heaved another sigh, decided he’d never fully comprehend anything he didn’t read in a book, and dove in head first.
“I’m very sorry for upsetting you earlier today, Brenda.”
Weak, Colin. Weak. If you expect her to let up on you be more specific. He’d learned long ago that, in scholarship, one must spell out exactly what one meant.
She said nothing but merely sniffled, which confirmed his own assessment of his tepid apology.
So, however much he hated to do it and even begrudged the necessity since he considered Brenda almost as much at fault as he was—although he couldn’t have said why—he tried again. “That is to say, I’m sorry I—ah—was forward with you. Earlier. In your hotel room.”
As much as he appreciated academic honesty, he’d be dashed if he’d apologize for trying to take advantage of her—whatever that meant—because he hadn’t. He’d never have done anything against her will. He’d most certainly not tried to rape her, as she’d accused him of doing.
“Are you?”
Her voice was small and weaker than he’d ever heard it, and it made his heart lurch. He also wasn’t sure what to say. On the one hand, he wasn’t sorry at all, because he really, really wanted to go to bed with her. On the other hand, he was sorry his bold ploy hadn’t worked.
Ergo, he decided, he was sorry and could answer truthfully with the words she wanted to hear. “Yes. I’m very sorry.”
She sniffled again.
“It won’t happen again.” Ugh. This particular truth didn’t sit well with him. He had a feeling that if he ever were to taste the full measure of Brenda’s charms, his infatuation would have been satisfied and, therefore, would be over.
“Th-thank you.”
She didn’t sound happy about it. Given his state of acute sexual excitement, as well as the difficulty he’d had in coming up with an apology that came near the truth while avoiding its full implications, he considered her thanks lukewarm at best. He said huffily, “You’re welcome.”
They sat cuddled up together in the blanket for what seemed an eon to Colin, although it probably wasn’t more than a minute. When Brenda spoke again, she sounded uncharacteristically diffident “I’m sorry I yelled at you.” She gave another sniffle. “I was very scared.”
“I understand. The feminine temperament is notoriously unstable.”
He felt her stiffen and knew he’d said the wrong thing. Dash it, she was idiotically sensitive about some things.
“And in what scholarly tome is that sentiment written?”
Her voice was stronger now, and aggressive in defense of her sex. Colin was about to retort with references when his erudite candor smacked him upside the head.
In reality, while he’d heard the psychological aspects of the male and female personality discussed and debated by others, he hadn’t read much about the matter on his own. He preferred to form his own conclusions on the basis of solid facts. One couldn’t do that when studying people, because people were so—unsolid. Colin therefore had always preferred history and the natural sciences to the study of human psychology.
Peeved because he couldn’t cite references without pretending to knowledge he didn’t possess, he said, “I understand Dr. Freud has done all sorts of studies on the topic and has concluded that women are of a generally histrionic disposition. Most of them. Many of them.” He gritted his teeth and modified his statement yet again. “Some of them.”
Brenda raised a hand. Colin thought she’d done so to wipe away more tears, and his heart gave a hard spasm, although he didn’t do anything, not wishing to have his face slapped or anything of a like nature.
“Dr. Freud,” she said in a tight voice that sounded as if it were being squeezed through clenched teeth, “is an ass. He blames all human problems on sex.”
Colin blinked into the pitch-black night, unsettled by such frank speaking. “I, ah, believe he’s studied extensively on the matter.”
“Fiddlesticks,” Brenda said firmly. “He only thinks he has. If he’d really done his homework, he’d understand that most of the world’s problems aren’t brought about by sexual frustration or misplaced sexual fantasies or sexual hysteria, but by poverty, ignorance, and malnutrition. He’s a damned snob.”
Good God, she was right.
He’d never admit it. With a condescending chuckle, he said, “You’ve studied this subject extensively, I’m sure.”
He was dismayed when she pulled away from him as if he’d suddenly begun to stink. “Yes, I have, damn you. You think you’re the only person in the universe who reads? Blast you, Colin Peters, I’m tired of you belittling me! I may not have a college education, but I’ll bet I’ve read more books about more subjects than most of the other people you’ve met in your stuffy, confined, narrow-minded life!”
“Oh, now, really—”
“Oh-now-really, my foot!”
She scrambled to her feet, yanking at the blanket and rolling Colin, who hadn’t expected such a violent move, onto the pine-needle-and-sycamore-cone ground cover under the tree. He blinked into the blackness for a second before he realized what had happened; then he, too, stood up. He fumbled for the torch in his pocket and turned the switch, hoping it would work. It didn’t.
Because he was irked, both by her and by the torch, he said, “Poverty, ignorance, and malnutrition don’t explain this latest outburst on your part.”
“No, they do not! You explain this one, you condescending cretin!”
“Name-calling won’t make very many people change their minds about females being unstable,” he pointed out smugly.
“Oh! You drive me crazy!”
And with that, she once again hurled herself at, him. This time, however, she pounded on his chest with her fists. It didn’t hurt, but Colin didn’t like it much. He jammed the torch back into his pocket and reached for her wrists. He didn’t have much trouble subduing her
It occurred to him that this was the last thing he’d wanted to happen. What he’d hoped for was a truce. Maybe even more than that. A friendly kiss would have been nice. A lustful one would have been nicer.
Feeling defeated and discouraged, he said, “I’m sorry, Brenda. I didn’t mean to—” He was going to say provoke you but decided those words would be more like waving a red flag in front of a maddened bull than offering a white flag to a foe. After thinking for a second, he said, “I didn’t mean to say that.”
He had, but she didn’t need to know it. He still held on to her wrists, not very tightly because he didn’t want to bruise her tender flesh, but tightly enough to prevent her from bruising his tender flesh.
“Y-yes, you did.”
Oh, Lord, she was crying again. Colin felt awful. “Here, Brenda, please don’t cry. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”
“You’re a brute.”
At least that’s what Colin thought she said. Her words were so thick, it was difficult to tell. He wanted to deny it but knew he’d be better off not doing so. He opted for another, “I’m sorry, Brenda. Please don’t cry.”
“I h-hat
e you.”
“I’m sorry.” And that was the truth.
Her fury subsided so gradually, Colin wasn’t even aware of it until he realized she was resting her hands on his chest, next to her head, which was pressed there. He blinked down at her blond curls, wishing he could see them better in the moonlight. Very gently, he released her wrists and put his arms around her.
Was it his fevered brain making him believe she seemed to be snuggling more closely against him? He wasn’t sure, but he made a tentative gesture toward reconciliation by resting his cheek against her soft hair. She smelled like a flower. He closed his eyes and allowed his senses to luxuriate in her essence.
When he felt her hand move to his back, as if she were attempting to learn its geography, he sucked in a breath and held it. His sex, which was already hard, gave an enormous throb. Dash it, did she know what she was doing to his libido? If she did, her protests earlier in the day were totally disingenuous.
“I want you to like me, Colin,” she whispered into the darkness. “But you seem to hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.” It was true, although Colin hadn’t thought about it until now.
“You do, too.”
Dash it, she wasn’t going to start another argument now, was she? Colin didn’t think he could take it. He gritted his teeth, and answered anyway. “No, I don’t.”
She sniffed. “You seem to.”
“I don’t mean to. I—ah—don’t think I know how to get along in non-academic surroundings sometimes.” He’d never admitted that aloud before. This infatuation with Brenda was forcing him into all sorts of confessions he’d just as soon not make.
He felt her nod. “I understand.”
“You do?” He wasn’t sure he believed her.
He felt her nod again. “Yes. I’ve had to study human behavior for a long time, and I pegged you for a man who’d never had to worry about society’s acceptance or rejection of him the first time I ever saw you”
Which had nothing to do with anything at all that Colin could see. For a couple of seconds. Then her meaning penetrated the sponge that was his brain, and he understood her. She was right. He’d been born into a solidly middle-class family with solid middle-class standards. He’d never had to scramble for a meal or go without one. He wasn’t the product of an impoverished immigrant family as was Brenda.
Brenda, on the other hand, had been forced from her twelfth year to study middle-class mores and behavior, much in the way he’d studied Indian cultures and natural sciences. In effect, she was as much a scholar as he. And, since she was rich and he wasn’t, she might even be more successful in her field of study than he’d been.
It was an interesting insight, and one he guessed he’d have to study at length later. This moment didn’t seem appropriate to delve further into it.
Even if he’d wanted to, Brenda took that moment to kiss him, and all thoughts of any nature at all flew right out of his head. She kissed him!
He kissed her back with all the fervor he didn’t until now know he possessed. He was terribly disappointed when she pulled away from him after several blissful minutes, during which they both investigated each other’s bodies searchingly, and by hand.
Chapter Seventeen
“Oh, Colin.”
After their exquisite kiss and several minutes of exploration, they’d sunk back onto the blanket—which Colin had taken care to spread out again—and Brenda was feeling dreamy. Since she’d never had much of a childhood, she’d never been able to appreciate young love under the stars. Or anywhere else, for that matter. She felt as if she were making up for lost time tonight, although she still wasn’t ready to give herself to Colin or any other man before he’d made a firm commitment. Which meant marriage.
“I really was terribly frightened when I was lost.”
“I’m sure of it,” he said, in a voice that sounded strangely taut.
She didn’t fully fathom why this should be, although she figured it had something to do with the marvelous kiss they’d recently shared. She continued in her own rapturous tone, “Isn’t it a beautiful night, though?” She’d like to kiss him some more but knew that would be forward. She couldn’t very well chide him for trying to take advantage of her and then try to take advantage of him. Well, she could, but not if she expected him ever to believe another word she said.
“Yes. Yes, it is.”
She realized he’d licked his lips nervously. Still, she didn’t understand. Sighing with pleasure, she stretched out and wiggled until she was pressed directly against him. She thought he groaned softly but wasn’t sure.
“You were right about it being too early for the moon and stars when I was so afraid.” She felt quite open-minded and magnanimous about saying so at this point, since she’d been furious at him when he’d pointed it out to her earlier. “But aren’t they lovely now?”
“Yes.”
He was certainly a tight-lipped fellow when he wasn’t lecturing. Brenda didn’t really mind. She could civilize him. She’d tackled more difficult tasks in her life. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
“That’s all right.”
“I don’t want to fight with you.”
“I’m glad.”
He might have been glad, but he didn’t sound it. Undaunted, Brenda went on “But, you see, I’m not what you believed me to be.”
“No?”
Was that a whimper? Brenda stared hard at what she could see of his face but couldn’t tell.
“No. I get the feeling you think I’m a loose woman.” She felt him take a deep breath and sensed that he’d opened his mouth, so she gently pressed her palm against his lips. He gave a small moan, which she also didn’t understand. “I’m a passionate woman, Colin, but I’ve never been loose.”
“Oh.” The brief syllable sounded as if someone had tried to strangle it on its way out of his mouth.
“And, while I find you awfully attractive . . .” She drifted into silence, afraid of what she was going to say. Colin uttered another smothered moan. “Well, I do find you attractive, but I’m not willing to sacrifice my virtue on the altar of passion, no matter how much the notion appeals.”
She wasn’t sure what he said then, because she couldn’t make out the words. It sounded vaguely like a cross between a plea and a protest. She decided to forge onward. Maybe if she confessed her own attraction to him, he’d be more apt to treat her with respect instead of as an object of his own sexual fantasy. She spared a moment to be sorry actresses had such abysmal reputations as a group.
“It’s not that I don’t have the normal urges common to both men and women,” she hastened to assure him. “But I’m not going to jeopardize my reputation, my career, or my morals for a mere fling.”
This time she was sure she heard him groan, as if he were in pain. She pulled away from him, worried all of a sudden. “Oh, Colin! Are you uncomfortable? Are you cold? Are you hurt?”
“No.” His voice sounded strange. “I’m fine.”
She squinted at where she assumed his face was. She could barely see it, but it looked to her as if his eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth had scrunched up. He really did seem to be in some kind of pain. “Are you sure?”
He nodded.
Because she thought he might be fibbing in order to spare his own male vanity, she reached up and caressed his cheek with her hand. He sighed into her palm, and she smoothed her fingers across his lips. There was something wrong; she knew it.
“Tell me what’s the matter, Colin,” she urged gently. “I can sense you aren’t feeling well.”
“I’m all right.”
If he got any more clipped in his speech, he’d be barking like a dog. Brenda frowned into the night. “No, you’re not. Tell me what’s the matter. Please. I want to help you.”
He sucked in a huge breath and let it out all at once. “If you really wanted to help me, you’d go to bed with me.”
She jerked away from him and stared hard through the blackness and into his
face. She suppressed her first urge, which was to sock him in the jaw, when she saw how truly miserable he looked. Because she didn’t want any misunderstandings to exist between them, she said severely, “And I’d like to oblige you, Colin, but I shan’t do so. Not unless you offer me more than a single night of passion in order to slake your lust. I’m not that sort of woman.”
“I know that. Now.”
She believed him. She also believed he was unhappy about it. She sniffed. Too bad for him, the rat. If he loved her, he’d ask her to marry him. But no. All he wanted was to go to bed with her. It was all very upsetting. Standing, she shook out her skirt. “I think we ought to go back to the lodge.”
“I don’t think I can walk.”
She squinted down at him. He still looked as if he were suffering from something dire. Her heart had taken to aching, and she wasn’t sure she believed him “Why not?”
“Sit next to me again and I’ll show you.”
She put her fists on her hips and continued to stare at him for a moment before she complied, being careful not to do anything that might be remotely construed as seductive.
“What do you mean?”
He took her hand and laid it carefully on his thigh. She jumped up again, as if she’d touched burning coals. “My God! Is that what I think it is?”
He nodded miserably.
“Oh.” She didn’t know whether to be pleased or appalled.
“I—ah—didn’t know.”
He groaned.
For no good reason she could comprehend, she felt guilty. “I’m sorry, Colin.”
“Right.”
“I didn’t mean to let you think—I’d—I mean—”
“Never mind. I know what you mean.” He took a ragged breath. “Not your fault.”
“I should say it’s not.” That didn’t sound very nice. But Brenda didn’t know how to be nice under these circumstances. The whole situation was new and bizarre and out of her realm. While it was true men had tried to seduce her before, she’d always been able to put them off with a joke. And if a joke didn’t work, she’d shame them into letting her alone. She felt neither like joking with nor shaming Colin. The truth of the matter was that she wanted him as a partner in a sexual liaison almost—but obviously not quite—as much as he wanted her.
Beauty and the Brain Page 25
