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Books by Nora Roberts

Page 268

by Roberts, Nora


  "What?"

  "Drink your champagne, my love, and smile." He turned her gently, keeping his arm around her as they wandered toward the roulette table. "Now look over there, to the woman Gumm is speaking with. The redhead by the staircase."

  "I see her." Mel leaned her head against Sebastian's shoulder. "Five-five, a hundred and ten, light complexion. Twenty-eight, maybe thirty years old."

  "Her name's Linda-or it is now. It was Susan when she checked into the motel with David."

  "She's-" Mel nearly took a step forward before she stopped herself. "What's she doing here?"

  "Sleeping with Gumm, I imagine. Waiting for the next job."

  "We have to find out how much they know. How close they are to the top." Grimly she finished off the champagne. "You work your way, I'll work mine."

  "Agreed."

  When Mel saw that Linda was heading for the ladies' lounge, she shoved her empty glass into Sebastian's hand. "Hold this."

  "Of course, darling," he murmured to her retreating back.

  Mel bided her time, sitting at one of the curvy dressing tables, freshening her lipstick, powdering her nose. When Linda sat at the table next to hers, she began the process all over again.

  "Shoot," Mel said in disgust, examining her fingers. "I chipped a nail."

  Linda sent her a sympathetic glance. "Don't you hate that?"

  "I'll say, especially since I just had them done this morning. I have the worst luck with them." She searched through her bag for the nail file she knew wasn't there. "Your nails are gorgeous."

  "Thank you." The redhead held up a hand to examine. "I have a marvelous manicurist."

  "Do you?" Mel shifted and crossed her legs. "I wonder- My husband and I just moved here from Seattle. I really need to find the right beautician, health club, that sort of thing."

  "You can't do better than right here at the hotel for either. Nonguest membership fees for the health club are a bit pricey, but believe me, it's well worth it." She fluffed at her luxuriant mane. "And the beauty shop is top-notch."

  "I appreciate that. I'll look into it."

  "Just tell them Linda sent you, Linda Glass."

  "I will," Mel said as she rose. "Thanks a lot."

  "No problem." Linda slicked on lip gloss. If the woman joined the club, she thought, she'd get a nice commission. Business was business.

  A few hours later, Mel was flopped on her stomach in the center of the bed, making a list. She wore a baggy pajama top, her favored lounging choice, and had already disarranged her sleek coiffure into tousled spikes with restless fingers.

  She'd be using the Silver Palace's facilities, all right, she thought. Starting tomorrow, she would join their health club, check out their beauty parlor. And, Lord help her, make an appointment for a facial, or whatever other torture they had in mind.

  With any luck, she could be cozied up to Linda Glass and exchanging girl talk within twenty-four hours.

  "What are you up to, Sutherland?"

  "Plan B," she said absently. "I like to have a plan B in reserve in case plan A bombs. Do you think leg waxing hurts?"

  "I wouldn't hazard a guess." He ran a fingertip down her calf. "However, yours feel smooth enough to me."

  "Well, I have to be prepared to spend half my day in this place, so I have to have something for them to do to me." She cocked her head to look up at him. He was standing beside the bed, wearing the bottoms of the baggy pajamas and swirling a brandy.

  I guess we look like a unit, she thought. Like an actual couple having a little chat before bedtime.

  The idea had her doodling on the pad. "Do you really like that stuff?"

  "Which stuff?"

  "That brandy. It always tastes like medicine to me."

  "Perhaps you've never had the right kind." He handed her the snifter. Mel braced up on her elbows to sample it while he straddled her and sat back on his heels. "You're still tense," he commented, and began to rub her shoulders.

  "A little wired, maybe. I guess I'm starting to think this really may work-the job, I mean."

  "It's going to work. While you're having your incredibly long and lovely legs waxed, I'm going to be playing golf-at the same club Gumm belongs to."

  Far from convinced the brandy had anything going for it, she looked back over her shoulder. "Then we'll see who finds out more, won't we?"

  "We will indeed."

  "There's this spot on my shoulder blade." She arched like a cat. "Yeah, that's it. I wanted to ask you about that couple tonight. The big winners."

  "What about them?" He pushed the shirt up out of his way and pleased himself by exploring the long, narrow span of her back.

  "I know it was your way of getting Gumm to the table, but it doesn't seem exactly straight, you know? Making him win ten thousand."

  "I merely influenced his decisions. And I imagine Gumm's taken in much more than that by selling children."

  "Yeah, yeah, and I can sort of see the justice in that. But that couple-what if they try to do it again and lose their shirts? Maybe they won't be able to stop, and-"

  He chuckled, pressing his lips to the center of her back. "I'm more subtle than that. Young Jerry and Karen will put a down payment on a nice house in the suburbs, astonish their friends with their good fortune. They'll both agree that they've used up all of their luck on this one shot, and rarely gamble again. They'll have three children. And they'll have a spot of fairly serious marital trouble in their sixth year, but they'll work it

  "Well." Mel wondered if she'd ever get used to it. "In that case."

  "In that case,'' he murmured, running his lips down her spine. "Why don't you put it out of your mind and concentrate on

  Smiling to herself, she set the brandy on the chest at the foot of the bed. "Maybe I could." She flipped, then twisted, getting a solid grip before shoving him back on the bed. With her hands clamped on his, she leaned down until they were nose-to-nose. "Gotcha."

  He grinned, then nipped her lower lip. "Yes, you do."

  "And I might just keep you a while." She kissed the tip of his nose, then his cheek, his chin, his lips. "The brandy tastes better on you than it does in the glass."

  "Try again, just to be sure."

  With humor bright in her eyes, she lowered her mouth to his and sampled long and deep. "Mmm-hmm. A definite improvement. I do like your taste, Donovan." She linked her fingers with his, pleased that he made no move to break the contact when she slid down to nibble at his throat.

  She teased him, toying with his desire and her own as she savored his flesh. Warm here, cooler there, the rich beat of a pulse beneath her lips. She enjoyed the shape of his body, the width of his shoulders, the hard, smooth chest, the quick quiver of his flat belly under her touch.

  She liked the way her hand looked gliding over him, her skin shades lighter than his, the ring glowing with its meld of colors against the silver. Rubbing her cheek over him, she felt not just passion, but a deep, drugging emotion that welled up like wine and clouded her senses.

  Her throat stung with it, her eyes burned, and her heart all but melted out of her chest.

  With a sigh, she brought her lips back to his.

  It was she who was the witch tonight, he thought, wallowing in her. She who had the power and the gift. She had taken his heart, his soul, his needs, his future, and had them cupped delicately in her hands.

  He murmured his love for her, again and again, but the language of his blood was Gaelic, and she didn't understand.

  They moved together, flowing over the bed as if it were an enchanted lake. As the moon began to set, shifting night closer to day, they were lost in each other, surrounded by the magic each brought to the other.

  When she rose over him, her body glimmering in the lamplight, her eyes dark with desires, heavy with pleasures, he thought she had never looked more beautiful. Or more his.

  He reached for her. And she answered. Their bodies blended. The moment was sweet and fine and fierce.

  She arched back, t
aking more of him, shuddering with the glory of it.

  Their hands met, and held, gripping firm as they rose toward the next pinnacle.

  When they could go no higher, when he had emptied himself into her and their flesh was weak and wet from love, she slid down to him, hardly aware that her eyes were damp. She buried her face at his throat, shivering as his arms came around her.

  "Don't let go," she murmured. "All night. Don't let go all night."

  "I won't."

  He held her while her heart struggled with the knowledge that it loved, and until her body gave way to weariness and slept.

  CHAPTER 11

  It wasn't so difficult to get a look at the appointment books for the beauty shop and health club in the Silver Palace. If you smiled enough and tipped enough, Mel knew, you could get a look at most anything. And by tipping a little more, it was easy to match her schedule with Linda Glass's.

  That was the simple part. The hard part for Mel was the prospect of spending an entire day wearing a leotard.

  When she took her place in the aerobics class with a dozen other women, she sent a friendly smile in Linda's direction.

  "So, you're giving it a try." The redhead checked to see that her mane was still bundled attractively in its band.

  "I really appreciate the tip," Mel responded. "With the move, I've missed over a week. It doesn't take long to get out of shape."

  "Don't I know it. Whenever I travel-" She broke off when the instructor switched on a recorder. Out poured a catchy rock ballad.

  "Time to stretch, ladies." All smiles and firm muscles, the instructor turned to face the mirror at the head of the class. "Now, reach!" she said in her perky voice as she demonstrated.

  Mel followed along through the stretches and the warm-up and into the more demanding routines. Though she considered herself in excellent shape, she had to give all her attention to the moves. Obviously she'd plopped herself down in a very advanced class, and there was a matter of grace and style, as well as endurance.

  Before the class was half-over, she developed a deep loathing for the bouncy instructor, with her pert ponytail and cheerful voice.

  "One more leg lift, and I'm jumping her," Mel muttered. Although she hadn't meant to speak aloud, it was apparently the perfect move. Linda flashed her a grim smile.

  "I'm right behind you." She panted as she executed what the instructor gleefully called hitch kicks. "She can't be over twenty. She deserves to die."

  Mel chuckled and puffed. When the music stopped, the women sagged together in a sweaty heap.

  After pulse checks and cool-downs, Mel dropped down next to Linda and buried her face in a towel. "That's what I get for taking ten days off." With a weary sigh, Mel lowered the towel. "I can't believe I scheduled myself for an entire day."

  "I know what you mean. I've got weight training next."

  "Really?" Mel offered her a surprised smile. "So do I."

  "No kidding?" Linda blotted her neck, then rose. "I guess we might as well go suffer through it together."

  They moved from weights to stationary bikes, from bikes to treadmills. The more they sweated, the friendlier they became. Conversation roamed from exercise to men, from men to backgrounds.

  They shared a sauna and a whirlpool, and ended the session with a massage.

  "I can't believe you gave up your career to keep a house." Stretched on the padded table, Linda folded her arms under her chin. "I can't imagine it."

  "I'm not used to it myself." Mel sighed as the masseuse worked her way down her spine. "To tell you the truth, I haven't quite figured out what to do with myself yet. But it's a kind of experiment."

  "Oh?"

  She hesitated, just enough to let Linda know it was a sensitive subject. "You see, my husband and I have been trying to start a family. No luck. Since we've gone through the whole route of tests and procedures without results, I had this idea that if I quit for a while, maybe shucked off some of the career tension- well, something might happen."

  "It must be difficult."

  "It is. We both-I suppose since we're only children ourselves and don't have anyone but each other, we really want a large family. It seems so unjust, really. Here we have this wonderful house, we're solid financially, and our marriage is good. But we just can't seem to have children."

  If the wheels were clicking in Linda's head, she masked it with sympathy. "I guess you've been trying for a while now."

  "Years. It's really my fault. The doctors have told us there's a very slim chance that I'd be able to conceive."

  "I don't mean to offend you, but have you ever thought of adoption?''

  "Thought about it?" Mel managed a sad smile. "I can't tell you how many lists we're on. Both of us agree that we could love a child that wasn't biologically ours. We feel we have so much to give, but-" She sighed again. "I suppose it's selfish, but we really want a baby. It might be a little easier to adopt an older child, but we're holding out. We've been told it could take years. I don't know how we'll handle all those empty rooms." She made her eyes fill, then blinked away the tears. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't go on about it. I get maudlin."

  "That's all right." Linda stretched her arm between the tables to squeeze Mel's hand. "I guess no one can really understand like another woman."

  They shared an iced juice and a spinach salad for lunch. Mel allowed Linda to guide the conversation gently back to her personal life. As the naive and deeply emotional Mary Ellen Ryan, she poured out information about her marriage, her hopes, her fears. She sprinkled in a few tears for good measure, and bravely wiped them away.

  "You aren't thinking marriage yourself?" Mel asked.

  "Me? Oh, no." Linda laughed. "I tried it once, a long time ago. It's too confining for me. Jasper and I have a very nice arrangement. We're fond of each other, but we don't let it interfere with business. I like being able to come and go as I please."

  "I admire you." You coldhearted floozy. "Before I met Donovan, I had the idea that I'd go it alone through life, carving out my niche. Not that I regret falling in love and getting married, but I guess we all envy the woman who makes her own."

  "It suits me. But you're doing all right. You've got a guy who's crazy about you, and he's done well enough that you've got a nice home. Just about perfect." Mel looked down at her empty glass. "Just about."

  "Once you have that baby, it'll be perfect." Linda patted her hand. "Take my word for it."

  Mel dragged herself home, tossing her gym bag one way and kicking her shoes the other.

  "There you are." Sebastian was looking down from the upstairs balcony. "I was about to send out a search party."

  "You'd do better with a stretcher."

  His smile faded. "Are you hurt?" He was already starting down the steps. "I knew I should've kept an eye on you."

  "Hurt?" She all but growled at him. "You don't know the half of it. I had the aerobics instructor from hell. Her name was Penny, if that gives you a clue. And she was cute as a damn button. Then I got handed over to some Amazon queen named Madge who put me on weights and all these hideous shiny machines. I pumped and lifted and squatted and crunched." Wincing, she pressed a hand to her stomach. "And all I've had to eat all day is a few stingy leaves."

  "Aw." He kissed her brow. "Poor baby."

  Her eyes narrowed. "I'm in the mood to punch someone, Donovan. It could be you."

  "How about if I fix you a nice snack?"

  Her lips moved into a pout. "Have we got any frozen pizza?"

  "I sincerely doubt it. Come on." He put a friendly arm around her shoulders as he led her into the kitchen. "You can tell me all about it while you eat."

  She dropped down agreeably at the smoked glass kitchen table. "It was quite a day. You know she-Linda-does this whole routine twice a week?" Inspired, Mel popped up again to root through the cupboards for a bag of chips. "I don't know why anybody'd want to be that healthy," she said with her mouth full. "She seems okay, really. I mean, when you talk to her, she comes across as a norma
l, bright lady." Eyes grim, she sat again. "Then you keep talking, and you get to see that she's plenty bright. She's also cold as a fish."

  "I take it you talked quite a bit." Sebastian glanced up from his construction of a king-size sandwich.

  "Hell, yes. I spilled my guts to her. She knows how I lost my parents when I was twenty. How I met you a couple years later. The whole love-at-first-sight routine. And you were pretty romantic." She crunched into a chip.

  "Was I?" He set the sandwich and a glass of her favorite soft drink in front of her.

  "You bet. Showered me with roses, took me dancing and for long moonlit walks. You were nuts about me."

  He smiled as she bit hungrily into the sandwich. "I'm sure I was."

  "You begged me to marry you. Lord, this is good." She closed her eyes and swallowed. "Where was I?"

  "I was begging you to marry me."

  "Right." She gestured with her glass before drinking. "But I was cautious. I did move in with you eventually, and then I let you wear me down. You've done everything to make my life a fairy tale since."

  "I sound like a terrific guy."

  "Oh, yeah. I really played that up. We are the world's happiest couple. Except for our one heartbreak." She frowned but kept on eating. "You know, in the beginning I was starting to feel pretty bad about stringing her along. I knew it was a job, an important job, but it just seemed so calculating. She was nice, friendly, and I felt uncomfortable the way I was setting her up."

  She reached for the chips again, nibbling as she worked through her own thoughts. "Then, once I brought up the baby business, I could practically see her go sharp, you know? All those soft edges just cleaved away. She was still smiling and sympathetic and friendly as hell, but she was clicking it all into that brain of hers and figuring the angles. So I didn't feel bad about letting her pry more information out of me. I want her, Donovan."

  "You'll be seeing her again soon?"

  "Day after tomorrow. At the beauty parlor, for the works."

  With a little moan, Mel pushed her plate away. "She thinks I'm a woman trying to fill the time on her hands." She grimaced. "Shopping was mentioned."

 

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