When Luke didn't answer, she repeated, "We wouldn't, would we."
"No." Luke took a drag on his cigarette. "But I'm the one who pushed it, not you. You just have to understand that after so many years of avoiding marriage I needed… an incentive. Something to talk me into it. But that doesn't mean I regret it, or that I don't love you."
"Will you give everything back then?" Randy asked. "Wait the six years to take over?"
Luke frowned at her. "You can't be serious, Miranda."
Randy was about to answer that she was very serious when the phone rang. It was Aaron Gregov, who'd just seen the announcement of her marriage in the paper and wanted to congratulate her. Randy got him off the phone as soon as she decently could, but Luke wasn't too pleased by the call.
It was ridiculous to feel defensive—Aaron hardly qualified as an old boyfriend—but Randy couldn't help it. Luke went back to watching the movie and Randy lay beside him pretending to do the same. Eventually, though, he smiled at her and started to toy with the cross around her neck. She snuggled into the crook of his arm and began to unbutton his shirt.
He turned his head to kiss her, his hand reaching under her nightshirt to caress her breast. Even though the TV was on, Randy finally felt that Luke's full attention was on her, not on his work or on the need for physical release. She murmured a tender "I love you" and melted into his arms.
And then the phone rang again. Luke reached for it with a muttered curse, barking a curt "Hello!" into the receiver. Judging from the conversation, Randy concluded, the caller wasn't one of his favorite people.
"Yes, she is," he said. "No, you can't." A pause. "No." Another pause. "Yes." A third pause. "I'll do that. And please don't call her or try to see her ever again." He slammed down the phone.
"That was Sean Raley," he informed her, looking at her as though she were somehow responsible for the unwanted call. "He sends his best wishes."
Randy was surprised and rather pleased by Luke's jealousy. "I don't feel anything for Sean anymore," she said, "but you might have been a little more polite to him. It was considerate of him to call."
"Considerate?" Luke shook his head incredulously. "Are you really that naive? He's in New York, Miranda. Now that you're safely married he obviously wants to start sleeping with you again." He added a terse epithet that described his opinion of Sean Raley most effectively.
"I'd rather sleep with you," Randy whispered.
Luke reached out for her, but the tender mood of only minutes ago had been lost. Randy couldn't respond to what she considered pure animal lust, and Luke quickly sensed it. The interrupted lovemaking left both of them hurt and touchy. Angry words were exchanged, and they wound up in a blazing argument when Randy demanded that Luke cancel his trip to Dallas the next day and he flatly refused. His goodbye kiss the next morning was perfunctory at best.
Randy was so dejected that she spent most of the day at the movies, but in the evening Linda and Roger appeared at the house with Chinese food for three, and a little of her depression lifted. Linda explained that Bill had mentioned Luke's trip to Dallas, so they'd decided to keep her company for a while.
It didn't take Randy very long to admit that things were less than perfect between her and Luke, or to become as angry as she'd been the night before. After ten minutes of pouring her heart out, she fumed, "So he's down in Dallas now, with Katrina Sorensen. And I'm not supposed to mind, even though he threw a tantrum when Sean Raley called me!"
"Randy, he's only doing his job," Roger pointed out. "And as far as Katrina goes, you should feel sorry for him, not angry. He's going to have his hands full shooting that advertisement."
"Well, poor little Luke. I don't see why he had to chase down there to sign those contracts and watch them take a few pictures. Dad could have done it."
"Because he knows how to handle Katrina better than anyone else, and because it's his responsibility to sit down with your attorneys and check over the contracts. He negotiated them," Roger reminded her, "not your father."
Randy wasn't interested in Luke's devotion to duty. "So where do I come into it?" she demanded. "In a couple of weeks I'll be starting the company's executive training program. Every time I bring up a honeymoon Luke claims he's trying to clean up his work so we can go away, but he just seems to get busier and busier."
"You won't get any sympathy from Roger," Linda said with a sigh. "He's as bad as Luke at times."
"If it were only the work I suppose I could cope with it," Randy replied. "But I can see that it's not. Something's eating at him, but he won't admit it, much less talk about it. Maybe we'd have a chance to work things out if I could only get him away from his damn job, but you can see how much success I've had with that. Tomorrow is Saturday, and he won't even be home till two o'clock."
Linda smiled, giving Roger a sidelong, calculating little glance.
"Okay, Lin," he laughed, "I know that look. What do you want from me?"
"Roger darling," she purred, "have you ever staged a kidnapping?"
Randy was standing in the hall looking out the window, nervously watching the street in front of the house. It was almost two-thirty now. Linda and Roger, meanwhile, were sitting in the kitchen, talking and drinking coffee. Also in evidence were two hulking young men whom Roger had introduced as Pete and Clint. Pete was the largest male nurse that Randy had ever seen, while Clint, an out-of-work actor, looked more like an out-of-work wrestler.
When Luke's car turned into the driveway Randy's heart began to slam against her ribcage. "Roger," she yelped, "he's back." Luke didn't bother to pull into the garage, but parked the car in front of the house. He got out, immaculately tailored as usual, whistling to himself. When he caught sight of Randy at the window he smiled at her and waved.
A moment later he let himself in. Roger had positioned himself about two yards back from the door, with Pete on one side and Clint on the other. Randy and Linda were standing on the first step of the stairs. Luke looked around at everyone, his expression puzzled. His eyes met Randy's. "What are you doing back there, honey?" he asked.
"Okay, fellas," Roger drawled. Pete and Clint, moving incredibly quickly for such large men, rushed over and grabbed Luke from behind, one of them holding his arms, the other his legs.
"What in hell is going on here?" he demanded. "Miranda? Who are these people?"
No one paid any attention to the angry outburst, least of all Roger, who removed a plastic bag from a leather satchel on the floor by his feet and started toward Luke. Luke spotted the handkerchief inside and started to struggle impotently. "Damn it, Roger, I have plane tickets for—"
He never had the opportunity to finish the sentence.
Pete eased him gently to the floor. Roger, kneeling down to finger the lapel of his jacket, remarked, "Nice suit. Come on, fellas, let's get him into something more rustic." The switch to blue jeans was accomplished with speedy efficiency.
When Roger withdrew a small bottle of medicine from the leather satchel Randy began to feel mildly queasy. "Is that really necessary?" she asked.
"Take it easy, Randy." He handed the bottle to Pete. "This will keep him asleep for a couple of hours, that's all. I don't want the guy cursing me all the way to Lake George." Randy turned away as Luke moaned, protesting the taste of the medicine Pete was dropping onto his tongue.
Afterward Roger pulled some rope out of his satchel and tied Luke's arms and legs. Then he cocked an eyebrow at Clint. "He's all yours, friend."
Pete had gone outside to retrieve a yellow station wagon from in front of the neighbor's house. Clint carried Luke in a fireman's hoist to a mattress lying in back of the wagon, laid him down and covered him with a blanket. Several suitcases were tossed in after him. Randy, Roger and Linda climbed into the front seat, and were headed for upstate New York ten seconds later.
Randy had gotten very little sleep the previous night. Kidnappings were not her usual modus operandi. But somehow, from the moment Linda had mentioned the idea the evening before, ev
ents had rushed on of their own volition, entirely out of her hands. Roger was enjoying himself enormously; he said with a wink that arranging a kidnapping was even more fun than producing a movie, because everything was real.
Within forty-five minutes he'd made half a dozen phone calls, arranging to borrow the wagon, a friend's cabin on an island in the middle of Lake George in upstate New York, and Pete and Clint. Roger Bennett, Randy decided, was the first man she'd met who could keep up with her sister.
She repeatedly reminded herself that if she didn't get Luke away from the office he would continue to work sixteen-hour days while their relationship went to pieces. She reminded herself that since he had kidnapped her, this was only poetic justice. But she didn't want to think about how angry he would be when he woke up, or what he would do to her once they were alone. Of course, as long as his hands and legs were tied, he was really quite helpless.
Eventually the motion of the car and simple exhaustion put her to sleep. The smell of hamburgers and fries woke her up, the change in scenery telling her that they'd traveled quite a distance in the meantime. Roger was just pulling back onto the highway after stopping for dinner at a local diner.
"Are we nearly there?" Randy took the hamburger that Linda held out to her and unwrapped it.
"Almost," Linda answered. "Luke's been tossing and muttering to himself back there. I think he's about to wake up."
As if on cue, Randy heard a hoarse curse from the back of the wagon and turned around to see Luke struggle into a sitting position. "Miranda," he said irritably, "don't you think this has gone far enough?"
Randy's blank expression gave no clue to the frightened turmoil she felt. "Are you hungry?" she asked. "Roger got some hamburgers."
"How am I supposed to eat one?" Luke demanded. "Damn it, Miranda, when I get these ropes off—"
"You'll get them off when Randy cuts them off," Roger interrupted with a laugh. "I was an Eagle Scout, Luke. I tie the best knots in New York."
This boast was met with a pithy suggestion from Luke as to just what Roger Bennett could do with his knots. Randy, ignoring Luke's ungentlemanly language, offered sweetly, "I'd be glad to feed you, Luke." When he gave a curt nod she unwrapped a burger and held it up for him to bite. He looked at her as though he would cheerfully take off her finger as well.
Half an hour later they pulled up to a pier where a medium-sized cabin cruiser lay gently bobbing in the water. After disposing of a hamburger and a packet of fries Luke had turned his attention to removing the ropes that were binding his wrists. He hadn't been successful.
Roger parked the car and opened the back of the wagon. "Time for a spin across the lake, Luke. Come on, get out."
"Like hell I will," Luke said.
"You want me to knock you out again?" Roger pointed to the boat. "I'm strong enough to carry you in there if I have to."
Luke glared first at Randy, then at Roger. "You might explain how I'm supposed to walk," he snapped.
Roger only laughed. "Say please, Luke, and I'll cut the ropes."
There was such a thing as going too far. "Roger," Randy began, "don't you think…"
But Roger merely grinned and said to Luke, "I figure I've owed you one ever since you swiped Katrina."
"You should have thanked me for that, not taken her back," Luke retorted. "Your stupidity isn't my problem!"
Roger thought it over for a moment, then conceded the point. "I suppose you're right. Okay, I'll cut the ropes."
With a rather extravagant curse for Roger, Luke edged his way out of the wagon, letting his legs dangle over the tailgate. Roger took out a pocket knife and quickly cut through the ropes on Luke's ankles.
"Okay, Luke, move it," he ordered lazily.
Luke, his face a study in cold fury, eased out of the car and stood up. Roger promptly gave him a forceful shove in the direction of the boat, prompting a sigh of dismay from Randy.
Livid over such treatment, Luke stopped dead. "You're enjoying every minute of this, aren't you?" he accused.
Roger only smiled again, putting his arm around Luke's shoulders and leading him a few feet away. He whispered something in Luke's ear and checked that the ropes were secure. Then both men began to laugh and walked to the boat together.
Randy and Linda exchanged a puzzled shrug, but said nothing. Luke was no longer angry with Roger, but it soon became obvious that he was eagerly anticipating the revenge he would take on Randy. He stared at her during the entire trip to the little island where Roger's friend had built his cabin, refusing to speak.
As they approached a small wharf Randy glimpsed a rough, wooden cabin about ten yards beyond, surrounded by trees. Roger helped Luke out of the boat, winked at Randy and announced, "We'll be back tomorrow night."
"Do have fun, you two," Linda added.
Randy and Luke stood watching as the boat slowly disappeared. Neither one spoke or moved. After several minutes Randy finally murmured, "Are you very angry with me?"
"You could say that," Luke answered coldly. "Are you going to untie me? Or do you plan to keep me this way until tomorrow night?"
"As long as it takes," Randy answered, her eyes fixed on his chest. She began to undo the buttons of his shirt, her fingers unusually clumsy as she bared his chest. Luke didn't tell her to stop or try to walk away. When she was finished she pulled off her own tee shirt, wound her arms around his neck and looked into his eyes.
"Am I supposed to be impressed?" he asked. "After all, it's hardly the first time."
Though disappointed by his failure to respond, Randy rubbed her half-naked body sensuously against his, standing on tiptoe to gently nip at his lower lip.
Luke stood there like a statue. "Untie me, and then we'll talk," he said.
"No." Randy dropped her arms to her sides. "I haven't had your complete attention for the entire week we've been married, but I aim to have it now. I'm going inside. You come in, lie down on the bed and let me do what I want, and when I'm satisfied that your mind is on me, then we can talk." She picked up the two suitcases she'd brought along and started toward the cabin.
It had only one room and contained a variety of furniture including a sofabed and a small dinette table. There were a stove and a sink, but the cabin had no indoor plumbing or electricity. Several gasoline lanterns sat on the table and the pump was located out the back door.
One of the suitcases Randy had taken up with her contained food, which she unpacked and put in one of the cabinets. Then she opened up a bottle of what she had gathered to be Luke's favorite wine and methodically drank down a six-ounce glass of it. Finally she opened up the sofabed, made it up with sheets and blankets she found in a dresser, and sat down to wait.
It seemed like hours before Luke finally came inside, and by then Randy had gone through a second glass of wine. He silently sat down on the bed, swung his legs up and lay back against the cushions that served as a headboard. When Randy didn't immediately join him he drawled, "I thought this was another one of your famous seductions, Miranda. What are you waiting for?"
He finally sounded like the man she'd fallen in love with. Greatly encouraged, Randy began to remove his shoes and then his socks, and was unable to resist running a teasing finger along the bottom of his foot.
He quickly jerked away, threatening, "Miranda, if you start tickling me…"
"What will you do?" The wine had gone to her head by now. She turned her attention to his belt, unfastening the buckle and unsnapping the jeans. "I need a little cooperation," she scolded.
Luke merely smiled and lifted his body to permit her to remove his clothing. Randy sat down beside him and ran her hands up and down the full length of his body. "Something tells me you aren't angry anymore," she teased.
"At a certain point one's hormones take over," Luke admitted. "But isn't this doing things backward? I thought that the idea was to get my attention. Believe me, Miranda, you've got it."
Randy gave his objections due consideration and then dismissed them. She didn't feel
like talking, she felt like touching him and kissing him until he begged for mercy. "We'll get to that," she said, pouring him a glass of wine and holding it up to his lips. "Come on, drink up."
He sipped the wine, then shook his head and laughed. "Isn't this setting a little rustic for Chateau Lafite?" he asked.
"But it's your favorite." Randy pouted. "Isn't it?"
"True," Luke agreed, "but a little expensive to get me drunk with. Unfortunately, I think it's too late for you. Come on, honey, untie me before you pass out."
Randy ignored him in favor of pouring and drinking another half-glass of wine. She held Luke's glass up to his mouth for him to drink, and with a shrug he complied. Then she slowly stripped off the rest of her clothing, well aware that he couldn't take his eyes off her.
She felt pleasantly dizzy as she lay down next to him, one leg draped over his thighs, her sensitive breasts pressed against his chest. Her kisses were featherlight, meant only to tantalize and arouse, but Luke didn't seem to understand that. He repeatedly tried to capture her lips, only to have her tease him with the soft inside of her mouth and then repeatedly pull away. By now, of course, she knew exactly how to touch him and didn't hesitate to take advantage of the knowledge. She stroked and caressed him until he restlessly responded, moaning with a mixture of pleasure and frustration.
Her own pulses were also racing by now, so that continuing to tease him turned into a self-inflicted torture. When he murmured hoarsely, "Miranda, please let me kiss you," she couldn't refuse. She eased fully on top of him and offered her parted lips, which were taken in a devouring, bruising kiss. Though he clearly ached to possess her body as well Randy made him wait. As she moved above him she could feel his wild urgency and delighted in it. Finally satisfied, she raised her head and smiled. Luke stiffened and looked up at her, breathing raggedly.
"If I thought you knew what you were doing to me I'd tan your backside," he said. "Cut the ropes off, Miranda."
Randy rolled off him, pretending to consider the matter, while Luke rolled onto his side. "Miranda," he growled, "now!"
An Act of Love Page 22
