“I beg your pardon?”
“My father told me the first time he saw my mother he knew he was in love with her. He was visiting a small vineyard in the south, and he fell like a ton of bricks.” She searched and found his hand on the coverlet and squeezed it affectionately. “I suppose it runs in the family.”
“I see.”
She lifted his hand to her lips and pressed a kiss on his palm. “Do you think you’ve come to love me just a little? I don’t want to rush you, but sometimes I get impatient.”
His expression was undiscernible in the dimness as he moved his hand from her lips to brush a shining strand of hair away from her face. “Manda, I want to give you what you want but—”
“You’re not ready. Shhh. It’s all right. It will make the adventure all the more exciting if I have to work for it.”
He chuckled. “Good Lord, nothing fazes you, does it? You’re incredible, Manda Delaney.”
“I’m glad you realize that fact at least. Now come back to bed and let’s snuggle. I understand snuggling is an important part of après lovemaking and I intend to squeeze every bit of enjoyment I can out of it.”
He laughed again and lay down beside her, drawing her into a loving embrace, his fingers soothingly rubbing her temple as she cuddled closer, nestling her cheek in the hollow of his shoulder. “I’ll be glad to offer any assistance I can.”
“This is nice, isn’t it?” She sighed contentedly. “The rain, the warmth, and being together.”
“Very nice.”
The room was silent except for the sound of their breathing, and the rain, like pebbles on the roof.
“Roman?”
“Hmmm?”
“When we were first driving in the rain, you were as happy and excited as I was. I knew you were. I could feel it.”
“Yes.”
Her index finger absently twined around a springy curl on his chest. “But then you changed. You weren’t the same. Why did you change?”
“I remembered who I was and forgot what I had been.”
Her brow wrinkled in puzzlement. “What?”
His lips smoothed the lines from her forehead. “You’re a very persuasive lady. All of a sudden I was the same Roman Gallagher who had traipsed all over the world and risked his neck at the drop of a hat. I was eight years younger and enjoying the hell out of it.”
“But that’s the way it should be,” she said eagerly. “It can always be that way, Roman.” She laughed softly. “Just keep me around, and I’ll show you. We’ll be so good together. We’ll see so many wonderful—”
He shook his head. “No, Manda,” he said gently. “Because I’m not that man anymore.”
“Why? What happened?”
“I grew up.”
She didn’t speak for a long time. He would have thought she was asleep except for the restless movement of her finger on his chest. “It was so much fun.” Her whisper was poignantly wistful. “I thought you understood.”
“I do understand.” His lips brushed her temple. “I understand the thrill and the search and the excitement. I understand all those wonderful things.”
“But you gave them up.”
“No, I didn’t give them up. I just moved on.”
“Roman, I …” Her voice trailed off. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” She planted a kiss on his shoulder and cuddled closer. “I’ll convince you of the error of your ways some other time.”
He felt a sudden pang of empathy. She was running away. But how far could she run before she came face-to-face with her nemesis? “Fine. I have other things I’d rather discuss anyway.” His lips covered hers with a sweet, sensuous heat. “Wouldn’t you like me to tell you another one of my fantasies? This time you’re in a beautiful Persian garden, and all you have on is a …”
Five
He was aware of someone moving quietly, with the utmost care, in the bedroom.
Roman sleepily opened his eyes, realizing at once he was alone in bed. “Manda?”
“Go back to sleep.” She bent down and gave him a swift kiss. “I was just leaving you a note.”
“A note.” He raised himself up on one elbow, narrowing his eyes to try to discern her face in the darkness. “Where the hell do you think you’re going? Come back to bed.”
“I can’t. It’s after ten o’clock.”
“So? Do you turn into a pumpkin after ten? Even Cinderella could stay out until the last stroke of midnight.”
She laughed softly and kissed him again. “Cinderella didn’t have Jacto waiting for her. I don’t want him to worry. I made a pot of espresso and filled a thermos to take to him. Would you like me to bring you a cup before I leave?”
He shook his head. “I don’t want you to leave. I want you to come back to bed. I’ll send one of the crew to bring Jacto his damn coffee.”
“I really have to go. It’s stopped raining, and it’s cooler out now. I have to take advantage of the break in the weather. I’ll be able to work through the night.” She straightened and turned away. “I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”
She was actually leaving him. Roman felt a rush of emotions, a mixture of anger and fear. “I’m sorry I didn’t make your first experience enjoyable enough to make you want to spend the entire night with me.”
“Oh, Roman …” She turned around and sat down on the bed. There had been an unmistakable thread of pain beneath the bitter mockery in his tone. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“You didn’t hurt my feelings.” He shrugged carelessly. “It was over. Why shouldn’t you leave?”
“It’s not over. It’s just begun.” She needed to see his face, dammit. She reached over and turned on the lamp on the bedside table, but the light was of little help. His expression was as impassive as his tone had been. “It will never be over. It’s just that I have commitments right now. Don’t you think I want to come back to bed?”
“I don’t have any idea what you want to do.” He was looking past her at the mirror on the far wall. “I have commitments too. I usually work until after midnight when I’m in the middle of a picture. Perhaps you’re right, and we’ve both been neglecting our priorities. By all means, run along to your mysterious commitment.”
“How can you act like this?” Manda sighed. “What can I say to make you understand?”
“I don’t want to understand.” His voice was suddenly rough. “I want you to come back to bed and stay here until morning. I want to make love to you again and again until—” He broke off. Until what? Until he had imprinted his mind and soul as well as his body on her? Until he had made sure he had forged a bond that would hold her until he wanted to let her go? What kind of selfish bastard was he anyway? he asked himself. He had refused to commit to anything beyond a sexual relationship, but he was still trying to put chains on Manda. He smiled with effort. “I told you I could be difficult. Go on. Ill see you tomorrow.”
She rose slowly, still gazing at him with troubled eyes. “I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to, Roman.”
“I understand.” He didn’t understand, blast it. He wanted her to be willing to toss her precious plans over the moon in order to be with him. “Perhaps another time.”
“Tomorrow.” She smiled lovingly. “I promise, Roman.” She turned and walked swiftly to the door. “I’ll be here at sundown.”
He nodded. “Tomorrow.”
With one last smile and a wave she was gone.
A moment later he heard the heavy front door slam behind her. Silence. Loneliness. Both assaulted him with near-physical force. It was incredible how the absence of one woman could bring about a change in him.
No! He wouldn’t let himself be affected like this. He wouldn’t permit himself to be dependent on a Peter Pan who could say she loved him one minute and fly away the next. So what if she was everything he had ever dreamed a woman could be? He had always liked variety in bed, and would probably grow bored with her in a week or two.
Roman sat up and swung his
feet to the floor. He stood and walked briskly toward the bathroom. He would shower, drink a cup of espresso, and then get to work making script changes for tomorrow’s shooting. It wasn’t as if a world-shaking event had occurred in his bed tonight. He had merely spent a pleasant few hours with …
Lord, he didn’t want to feel frustration and turmoil.
He looked at his reflection in the mirror of the medicine cabinet, and his lips twisted in a sardonic smile. Why should she want to stay? He wasn’t good-looking, had an awful temper, and had refused to offer her the comfort of the usual pretty promise of undying devotion. Next time he would try to be more civilized.
But he couldn’t be civilized around Manda. He had proved that tonight. He could only walk the tightrope between the lust and the tenderness that she evoked so effortlessly in him. Tenderness. Somehow he had to rid himself of that response to her. Why did he have to understand her so very well? He could see in her everything he had been eight years ago. He even felt as if he could read her mind at times. But understanding led to tenderness which led to something infinitely more dangerous. So he would have to forget his feelings and concentrate on the purely physical emotions she ignited in him. It shouldn’t be difficult. Just the memory of her caused an aching throb in his groin. He turned away from the mirror and smiled grimly. His shower would definitely have to be an ice-cold one.
The shower only served to wake him up and make him more conscious of the aching hunger he felt. Perhaps she wasn’t Peter Pan after all, but Morgan Le Fay. She sure as hell had worked a mystical spell on him, he realized. He shrugged on his terry-cloth robe and strode into the living room.
He sat down on the couch before the typewriter on the coffee table and inserted a sheet of paper. He firmly blocked all thoughts of cinnamon hair and bright amber eyes and began to type. He would work until he was tired enough to forget Manda and could go to sleep. Lord knows, the way he was feeling at the moment, he might not be tired for a number of hours, if at all. Even as he began to type, an errant thought slipped effortlessly through the wall he had erected in his mind to keep her out.
Tomorrow. He would see her tomorrow.
It was almost dark.
Roman took a drink of bourbon and stared broodingly through the window at the last scarlet streaks lighting the evening sky. He would give her another five minutes, and then he would go after her. She had promised, dammit. What kind of game did she think she was playing? Did she think she had him where she wanted him now that—
Someone knocked briskly on the door. It couldn’t be Manda. Her knock was now only perfunctory before she opened the door and ran into the room.
“Come in.”
Dennis Billet smiled genially as he came up the steps and into the room. “Some of the boys are getting together for a poker game in the mess tent. Want to sit in?”
“I’m going to be busy,” Roman said curtly. “Maybe next time.” He finished his bourbon in two swallows, got up, and crossed to the bar. “Have you seen Manda today?”
“Yep, right before she left this morning.”
Roman’s hand froze as he reached for the bottle of bourbon. “Left?”
Dennis nodded. “You didn’t know?” A frown wrinkled his forehead. “Maybe I was supposed to tell you. She was in such a hurry, she was kind of confused. She and Jacto drove into Coober Pedy to catch a plane for Melbourne.”
Roman kept his face expressionless.
“She received a call and said she had to go to Melbourne on personal family business.”
“I see.” Roman carefully finished pouring bourbon into his glass and put the cap on the bottle. “When will she be back?”
Dennis shrugged. “She didn’t say. Knowing Manda, I’d say it could be a day or it could be a year.”
It wasn’t pain he was feeling, Roman assured himself. It was anger. She had left him without a word, and he was angry. He had a right to be angry. She had broken her promise.
He took a sip of bourbon, and it spread a comforting glow that dulled the—he blocked the thought quickly. It was natural to feel disappointed. She had been exceptionally good in bed, and he hadn’t had his fill of her. Even now the muscles of his abdomen were knotted with hunger as he remembered how she felt under him as he moved.…
“Roman?”
He jerked his attention back to the man standing beside him. “What did you say? I was thinking of something else.”
“I asked if you’d like to reconsider.” Dennis’s hazel eyes were twinkling. “I’ve got a real yen to take you to the cleaners. That engine overhaul cost me a mint.”
“Not as much as the bet you placed on that nag at the Sydney handicap,” Roman said absently. He finished his drink and set his glass down on the bar.
“What can I say?” Dennis asked. “Like any true Aussie, I place a bet now and then. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I guess not.” Roman couldn’t have cared less for Dennis’s passion for the ponies at the moment. His hand suddenly closed on the neck of the bourbon bottle. “Sure, why not? There’s bloody little else to do out here.” He turned toward the door, taking the bourbon bottle with him. “Let’s play poker.”
“You drive on to the camp, Jacto,” Manda said as she jumped out of the Jeep. “I just want to tell Roman I’m back. I shouldn’t be more than thirty minutes.”
Jacto nodded. “I will build the fire and start supper.”
She waved and turned away, barely able to contain her eagerness. Her stomach was fluttering with excitement as she walked quickly to the door of the mobile home. It had seemed more like three years than three days since she had last seen Roman. Lord, she had missed him. She hadn’t expected to be lonely. When she left someone she loved, she always felt sad, but it wasn’t long until some fresh excitement diverted her. Not this time. Loneliness had been her painful and constant companion even while she had been with her dad and her sisters. At first, it had bewildered her, but gradually she had accepted it as part of the new and challenging experience of loving Roman.
She pounded cheerfully on the door, and then opened it and ran up the steps. “Roman, I’m back. Did you miss me? You’d better say yes because I …” Her words trailed off as a chill went through her.
Roman was sitting on the couch across the room, his fingers on the keyboard of the typewriter in front of him. He glanced up impassively before his gaze returned to the paper. He finished typing the sentence he had started. “You’re a little late. I believe our date was for three days ago.”
Her smile faded and then disappeared entirely. “You’re angry with me.”
“Now, why should I be angry? You’re perfectly free to go where you please.” He didn’t look up. “It was a trifle rude of you not to leave a message but—”
“I did leave a message. I told Dennis to tell you I had a family emergency and had to go away for a few days. Didn’t he let you know?”
“You evidently didn’t take the time to make yourself clear. Did you ever hear of a pen and paper?”
“I was in such a hurry—” She stopped and then began again. “I’m sorry. I’d never have been discourteous if I’d realized—”
“Discourteous!” His eyes blazed as he lifted his gaze from the page. A shock ran through her. “Lord, what an anemic word. Three nights ago you were in my bed, and now you sound as regretful as if you’d chosen the wrong fork for the salad.”
Manda felt a flare of answering anger. “I said I was sorry. What else do you want me to do? Maybe I should have made myself clearer, but there’s nothing I can do about that now. Do you want me to go down on my knees and beg your forgiveness?”
He stood up and came toward her. “The thought has possibilities. I’d enjoy the hell out of having you on your knees.” His black eyes were glittering in his taut face, and a muscle was jerking in his cheek. “I don’t like what you’ve been doing to me, Manda.”
“I haven’t done anything to you. You act as if I’m some kind of vamp!” Suddenly the anger drained f
rom her and only disappointment and weariness remained. “I don’t want to argue any longer.” She turned to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Roman.”
“The hell you will.” His hand spun her around to face him. “You said that three nights ago. I’m not letting you leave again.”
“Roman, I—”
Her words were lost as his mouth crushed down on hers. She couldn’t breathe. She could feel his teeth pressed painfully against her lower lip. She tried to move her head, but his fingers were tangled in her hair, his hands holding her still as his lips and teeth bruised her mouth.
He lifted his head. “Do you know what you’re doing to me? I can’t sleep, I can’t work, I can’t—” He broke off, his gaze on her lower lip. “Oh, God.” His expression was no longer angry, but sick. “You’re bleeding. I hurt you,” he said dully.
His hands fell away from her hair and he stepped back. “Stay right there.” He turned and strode into the bathroom. He immediately returned carrying a damp washcloth. He gently dabbed at her lower lip. He looked pale in spite of his tan. “I told you to go away. I told you I’d hurt you.”
“It doesn’t hurt now.” Strangely enough, she felt no trace of anger or fear. She felt only a poignant sense of empathy and intense pity. She couldn’t stand to see the pain and self-disgust on Roman’s face. She wanted to do something, anything, to banish his hurt. “You scarcely broke the skin. You didn’t mean to hurt me.”
“Are you making excuses for me?” His lips twisted. “Stick around. If I didn’t hurt you tonight, I probably would have the next time.” He threw the washcloth on the bar. “Get the hell out of here.”
She hesitated, her troubled gaze fixed on him. “No, not yet. Not until you tell me why. It wasn’t just my leaving you without writing a note, was it?”
He shook his head, not looking at her. “No.” His gaze returned to her face, and she inhaled sharply as she saw the torment there. “I missed you,” he said simply. “I nearly went crazy while you were gone. I kept thinking of how hot and sweet you were the other night in bed, and I ached.… But that’s not all. I kept remembering little things about you. How you laugh, how your eyes light up when you’re excited, how you make every moment special.”
Matilda, the Adventuress Page 8
