“Well, what the hell are you after?” He threw his hand in the air and cursed. “You know what I am, Nicci. You know what I do. It’s what I have to do to get what I want. I’m not going to change for you. You should be grown up enough to handle that. At least, I thought you were. Maybe I was wrong.” He paused and stared at me. “Or do you want a relationship like I have with Sammy? Would you prefer me that way instead?”
I reached out to slap his face but he grabbed my hand and held it.
“I’m not like Sammy. I’m not out to use you.” I tried to sound calm, but my voice was shaking. “Don’t insult me by thinking I would want you as a hired servant.”
His eyes searched my face and his grip eased on my hand, but he did not let go of me. Then his features softened a little.
“This is not what I intended.” He shook his head and sighed. Hooking his other arm about my waist, he pulled me to him. “You’re the most exasperating creature I have ever known.” His voice was a whisper in my ear.
“If I didn’t know better, Mr. Alexander, I would swear you were trying to seduce me.” I struggled to free myself from his grip, but he only held me harder. It was getting difficult to breathe.
“Damn right I’m seducing you. Stop squirming.”
Before I could utter another sound, his lips were on mine. A wave of hunger rose from some deep, unknown place inside, as the heat of his kiss consumed me. I felt swept up in the storm; my mind was overloaded with the flurry of sensations running through my body. My arms felt like rubber, my legs became feeble, and my mind filled with flashes of white light. What was happening to me? What had just one kiss done to me? His teasing lips continued to relentlessly caress mine, then traveled along my face and down my neck to my bare shoulder. I bent my head back and arched my body against his, feeling like a tree bending to an overpowering wind.
“Nicci,” he mumbled, as his lips tempted my skin with kisses. Then all at once, he stopped kissing me and let go. I opened my eyes to find his flushed face hovering above me.
“I want to take you home.” His voice was husky with longing.
“That’s not a good idea.” I began to protest, and then paused. “Whose home did you have in mind?” I pursued.
“Mine,” he said, kissing my forehead.
I backed away from him. “Yours?”
He sighed, sounding more exasperated than weary. He took my right hand in his and kissed it. “I’ll show you my nudes.” He bobbed his eyebrows playfully.
I laughed, and he put his arm around me. I let him lead me back up the path to the pavilion. My mind kept telling me to run away and avoid a heart-wrenching mistake, but the warmth of David’s body next to me, the smell of his cologne, the touch of his hands overcame my apprehension. As we made our way through the gardens and back to the party, I could feel my resistance slowly slipping away.
“I have to find my father,” I softly said, as we approached the end of the path.
He bowed his head to me. “Of course.”
When we neared the pool, the voices from the party grew louder. I removed his arm from my shoulder before we came out into the clearing. David gave me a curious glance, but said nothing to reproach me. As we hurried past a small throng of people gathered outside the back door, he fell in step beside me.
The crowds inside were larger than when we had left. I stopped just outside of the door and looked in.
David came up from behind and gripped my shoulders. “I’ll be out front.” He kissed my bare right shoulder.
I turned to say something to him, but he was already gone.
The crowds enveloped me as I made my way inside the pavilion. The hall was hot and sticky, with the sweet smell of champagne hovering in the air. Many of the faces were new to me. These people were not the regular social set. Then again, Val covered a lot of territory in the city. I approached the bar and heard a distinctive laugh that sounded like a vacuum cleaner, emanating from deep within the crowd. Pushing my way through, I found Aunt Hattie talking to a gray-haired gentleman who seemed vaguely familiar. I couldn’t remember his name, but I knew he was an attorney who worked with Uncle Ned.
“Aunt Hattie.” I leaned into her field of vision.
“Oh, dear, there you are.” She turned to the man beside her. “You remember Mr. Donald Adams. He works with your Uncle Neddie.” She obviously had consumed too many glasses of champagne. Her eyes were glassy and she swayed slightly as she turned.
“Hello, Mr. Adams. Of course, I remember you. How are you?”
The man only nodded to me and did not say a word. I felt that either he was being very rude or, more probably, was keeping step with Hattie’s drinking. His face had the same glassy look and his cheeks were beet red. I turned back to my aunt.
“Have you seen my father?”
“No, I haven’t. But I’ve been looking for Colleen. Have you seen her? She seems to have disappeared.”
Hattie staggered, grabbing a nearby table for support. It moved slightly, making a loud groaning noise. Hattie began snorting loudly. I turned around and left my aunt to search for my father.
Fighting my way through the crowds, I found myself blocked by a very large gold bow on the backside of an even larger woman. As the woman laughed, her whole body shook with delight. I knew that laugh and gently tapped her on the shoulder.
“There you are, pet. Having a good time?”
“Val, have you seen my father?”
“He left, dear. Right after you went into the gardens with your young man. He said the fellow would see you home.” She winked at me.
“He is not my young man, Val. He’s just a friend.” I shook my head. “He just left me? Damn it.” I scanned the room.
“Nicci.” She gave me a stern once over with her blue eyes. “If I were your age and had your face and figure, that man would be a hell of a lot more than just a friend.”
“You don’t understand. I don’t know him and he—”
Val cut me off with a wave of her hand. “I know he’s Samantha Fallon’s…what do we call him? Plaything? Lover? I don’t care. I know Sammy, and I say to hell with her. I think you two look much better together than old prune face Sammy and her plastic boobs.”
“It’s not like that,” I protested, shaking my head.
“Nonsense. You’re a grown woman, Nicci. Start enjoying your youth and beauty. Don’t hide behind it. It’s very short-lived and very precious. I should know.”
“Val, you’re crazy. You expect me to take up with Sammy’s gigolo and run away with him? Not giving a damn about what my father thinks or what everyone else would say?”
“Everyone else be damned! As for your father, why do you think he left? He saw the two of you dancing together. He may seem old to you, Nicci, but he understands a lot more than you give him credit for. Me? I would get the two of you a hotel room if it would help.” I was about to object but she shook her head at me. “Life is not a risk-free adventure, Nicci. Sometimes, all we have to live for are the risks. If I had listened to all the brain-dead fools in this room, I would never have made my life what it is. Don’t entertain the feeble comments of a jealous world. I’ve watched your handsome man for some time. For weeks, I have seen Sammy parade him around like a fancy doorstop. He was always cold and distant. But tonight, I saw him transform and glow from within when he was with you. If you can have that effect on someone, then it must be for a good reason. Don’t let the Sammy Fallons of this world ruin more lives than they already have. Now go on.”
Dazed, I nodded in agreement. Then I kissed her cheek and waved good-bye.
After fighting through the crowds inside, I finally made it to the exit and stepped outside onto the front walkway. I wandered dreamily past the numerous, glowing Chinese lanterns and rose-covered trellises that lead to the parking lot. There were hundreds of cars, as far as the eye could see. Dozens of people were milling about in the parking lot, but there was no sign of David.
“Now how the hell am I supposed to get home?”
No s
ooner had I spoken the words, when a cool pair of hands came up from behind and caressed my bare shoulders.
“Ready?” David’s voice murmured in my ear.
“Well, I do need a ride home.” I turned to him. “It appears I’m stranded. But I mean home. My home, not yours. Understand?”
David clapped his hands together. “So it seems you are at my mercy. I’ll take you home. We’ll go by way of my house.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but he held his finger to my lips. He nodded approvingly at my silence and then took my hand.
We had only walked about twenty feet from the entrance when I heard the most familiar squeal. I started searching the parked cars, as I pulled David with me.
“What are you doing?” he questioned.
I waved my hand at him, pleading for silence. He simply shrugged and followed me.
The car where the squeal had come from was not hard to find. It was Eddie’s red BMW, and it was rocking slightly as we approached. I looked into the back window, feeling a bit like a peeping tom. David started chuckling, as I tried to see through the fog that was clouding up the window.
Then, the activity inside of the car came into sharp focus. Eddie was half-naked in the back seat with Colleen underneath him, squealing away with delight. I didn’t know if I should pound angrily on the window or sneak away. David’s snickering was getting louder. I nudged him to be quiet, but it didn’t work. Suddenly Eddie looked up from the back seat, and his eyes met mine. David quickly pulled me away from Eddie’s car and back across the parking lot.
David led me along the row of cars, until we came to an open-top, red Jeep Wrangler.
“Where’s the Jag?”
He opened the passenger door for me. “The Jag is Sammy’s. This is mine.”
“I like this better,” I declared.
As I clicked my seatbelt, I took one last glance at Eddie’s car. David followed my line of sight and looked back at the rocking red BMW.
“I never thought he had it in him,” David remarked, starting the Jeep.
“What do you mean?” I asked, looking back to him.
“I never thought the little…I never thought he would ever make it with a woman. He always seemed more afraid than attracted to them.” He pulled out of the parking lot, and onto the street.
“Colleen finally got what she’s always wanted,” I stated, after we had left the lights of the botanical gardens behind us. “I just hope Eddie knows what he’s in for.”
“Well, good luck to the both of them.” He gave a perturbed grunt, and then added, “Sammy won’t be too happy when she hears.”
That’s not the only thing she won’t be happy about.
I knew Sammy would hear about us. There had been enough eyes at the party to give her a blow-by-blow account of our stroll along the dance floor. She would probably hear about David taking me home, as well. I knew for Sammy, Eddie’s escapades would pale in comparison to David’s attentions toward me. I had spent enough years in the midst of the infamous Samantha Fallon to know how she would react to our evening together. And that worried me. What I didn’t understand was why that didn’t worry David, too.
Chapter 6
“Where do you live?” I inquired, as we headed into the city.
He only grinned at me. I did not pursue the question further. I watched him steer the Jeep through the dark streets and realized how much more I liked him driving this type of car. The wind from the open top made his once sleeked back hair dash wildly about his face. He had thrown his jacket into the back and rolled up his shirtsleeves. Unencumbered by the trappings of Sammy or high society, he seemed more at ease with the world around him. There was no pretense to impose, no impression to be made. He could just be, without having to be something for someone else. I liked him this way.
As we drove, he would occasionally glance over at me, and I could see a strange uneasiness furrowing his brow. It was as if he was having some great inner debate and was not quite sure of what action to take.
Soon, we entered the New Orleans suburb of Lakeview. A quiet area of town, filled with families and small businesses. The houses were modest in design and size, reflecting the post World War II era in which many of the homes had been built. David parked in front of a double shotgun style cottage.
A shotgun was a local phrase, used to describe the thin, long houses that were popular in the city. They were so-called shotguns because you could, in theory, fire a shotgun through the front door and the bullet would go right out the back door without hitting anything. They were also easier to keep cool in the summer, allowing breezes to flow uninterrupted through the home.
There was a long porch, with hanging swings located at opposite ends and potted plants scattered all about. Two tall, live oak trees were situated in front of the cottage to perfectly shade the house from the afternoon sun.
“I rent the left side,” David informed me. “It’s enough for one person. The lady who owns the place lives on the right.” He climbed out of the Jeep and came around to my side. “She likes having me around. I keep the place up for her and she gives me a break on the rent.”
David took my hand and helped me from the car. I could feel my heart beating faster. He must have sensed my apprehension, because he leaned over and gently kissed my shoulder. The sensation sent ripples down my spine.
As we walked up the steps to the porch, he his retrieved his keys. When he opened the door, the air conditioning hit me like a cold winter blast. David ushered me inside and quickly closed the front door. He took my hand and led me into a small living room.
It was very sparsely furnished, with a sofa, a plain wood and glass coffee table, and end tables. A flat screen television was in an open armoire against the far wall, and a laptop computer sat on a desk next to the armoire.
The second room was a stark contradiction. It was meant to be a dining area, but David had only canvases and tubes of paint scattered about on the floor. In the center, an easel stood alone, supporting a work in progress. The roof held two wide skylights that bathed the room with traces of moonlight.
“I paint in this room,” he explained. “The light is best in here.”
He walked farther into the house, turning on more lights as he went. I followed him into the kitchen, which opened directly onto his studio. A black granite-covered bar divided the studio from the kitchen area. A door beyond the kitchen was half-open, revealing only darkness. Assuming that was the bedroom, I was relieved when he made no move to venture into it.
“Would you like something to drink?” He set his jacket across a stool next to the bar and went to the refrigerator. “I have wine and champagne.”
“I’ll stick with the champagne.”
“I’m glad you said that. I was going to open it anyway.” He smiled from behind the refrigerator door.
I returned to his studio to get a closer look at his work. Against the far wall were more of the same scenic pictures he had done of the Quarter. The floor was scattered with scraps of crumpled paper. Some had drawings scribbled on them. I bent down, picked up one piece and unfolded it. The hastily sketched image was of a young woman. Her head was tilted to the side and her eyes had a dreamy quality to them, as if she was thinking of some place far away. I thought her features looked strikingly familiar. I inched closer to the easel positioned in the center of the room. On the canvas, I saw the same face of the woman I had found on the scrap of paper, but her features were more somber than the hurried sketch. The smile was subtler, and the turn of the head was up instead of to the side. Auburn colored hair had been painted in around her shoulders and framed her delicate features. It was the eyes that I found the most distracting. They were piercing, almost like the eyes of an Amazon before battle. They were filled with fire and the desire for a fight.
“Do I really look like that?”
David came alongside me and offered me a highball glass filled with champagne. “To me you do.” He took a sip from his glass and had a seat on a stool by the
bar.
“You paint people better than buildings,” I admitted, admiring the painting.
“No, I only paint you better than buildings. I have never been any good with people or animals. They always came out one dimensional and lifeless.” He set his drink down on the bar. “You come alive on that canvas. I see your eyes and your face in my mind, and then I can paint it. I have never been able to do anything like that before.”
I stared at him, dumbfounded. This was something that happened to other women; women who had vivacious personalities and conquered men’s souls with the zeal of hungry crocodiles. This kind of thing had never happened to me before.
“I’m flattered, I think.” I took a big gulp of my champagne.
He rose from the stool and came toward me. “You are my inspiration. I hope this is the first of many portraits I will paint of you.” David took my drink and put it on the bar next to his.
Before I could catch his eyes, his lips were on mine and his arms went around me. The unexpected thrill of that kiss was breathtaking. I wasn’t sure what to do, or how to act. I was frozen against him. Then, abruptly, he broke away. His eyes searched mine and his grip on me relaxed.
He backed away. “I also have a very difficult time keeping my hands off you, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.” He picked up his drink, went into the living room, and sat down on the sofa.
“I’ve noticed, but I haven’t exactly put up much of a fight.” I smiled, remembering my mother. “Nothing complicates friendship more than sex.” He looked over at me, seeming more shocked than surprised at my boldness. “My mother used to say that to me,” I quickly added, taking a seat next to him.
“Wise woman. You must be a great deal like her.” He brushed the hair away from my face.
“In some ways, I hope. She was very calm and good with people. She could charm anyone into doing anything.” I leaned back against the sofa. “I don’t have her patience or her generous nature. I do look a lot like her, but inside, I’m more like my father.”
He put his arm around me. “What’s he like?”
The Nicci Beauvoir Collection: The Complete Nicci Beauvoir Series Page 8
