Summer Jazz

by Webb, Peggy

  "If we push, maybe we can have this ready for the Christmas season."

  Uncle Mickey looked up from the bicycle. "That's tight. You planning to work around the clock?"

  Hunter just grinned. "We’ll have a construction meeting this afternoon at three."

  "We already have three new toys in production for the Christmas season. What's put such a burr under your tail?"

  "With my reputation in shreds I won't have to bother socializing."

  "Mattie's the reason, eh?"

  "I wouldn't go that far." Hunter folded the blueprint, stuck it in his pocket, and gave his uncle a small salute as he left the office.

  Uncle Mickey stared at the closed door for a full two minutes. "I'd go that far, Hunter," he said. "I would."

  o0o

  "Clayburn Garvey on line one," Hunter's secretary said.

  Hunter did a few quick mental calculations. Garvey's name was well known. It was usually associated with oil, charity benefits, or horse racing. Sometimes all three.

  He smiled. And more recently, he thought, with Mattie. He'd noted that Garvey was her dinner companion the night before. Nothing Mattie did escaped him.

  He pressed line one. "Hunter Chadwick."

  Garvey's persuasive voice came over the phone intercom. "Hunter, I know you're a busy man, and I’ll take as little time as possible. I'm planning a series of benefit concerts on the fifteenth of this month for the American Diabetes Foundation, and I want to include you and the Chadwick Puppets in the matinee."

  "You have my permission, of course, to use the puppets. I'm always glad to help out. But you’ll have to talk with Sarah, in our publicity department, about scheduling. I’ll transfer you."

  "Wait, Hunter. I particularly want you. This is going to be a big event—probably one of the biggest Dallas has ever seen. We're bringing in top talent. We want the best. And that includes the original puppet master."

  Hunter smiled more broadly. He'd just bet they were bringing in top talent. Mattie, if he didn't miss his guess. He wondered if this was her idea and what the devil she was up to now.

  "Who else will be in the show?" His voice was deceptively innocent.

  "The matinee? Captain Kangaroo, Big Bird, Miss Piggy. It's going to be a star-studded show, Hunter. It'll be good for us, and it can't hurt Chadwick Toys if you agree to join."

  "Mattie Houston."

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "You forgot to mention Mattie Houston."

  "Well, I—" Garvey stopped. He was too shrewd to lie to Hunter. He reasoned that admitting Mattie was in the show wasn't the same as telling she'd requested Hunter. "How did you know?"

  "Just an educated guess. She's in Dallas. I saw the two of you together last night."

  "She's a sensational talent. Everybody is jumping at the chance to be in the same benefit show with her. I know you don't do puppet shows anymore, but If—"

  "Yes."

  "Is that a firm commitment?" Garvey knew when to shut up and close a deal.

  "Yes."

  "Great. I’ll add your name to the list of celebrities. You’ll get a follow-up letter about our first meeting to discuss rehearsals."

  After Hunter had finished speaking to Clayburn Garvey, he stared thoughtfully into space. He didn't know what had prompted him to agree to do the show. Was it curiosity or excitement or something else—the stirrings of some old, familiar feelings? Whatever his reasons, he'd given his word. And he never backed down on his word.

  o0o

  "Mattie, he's in," Clayburn Garvey said over the phone.

  "How'd you get him, Clayburn?" Mattie tapped her long fingers on the musical score on her desk.

  "It was the strangest thing. I really don't know."

  "You must have given a real sales pitch."

  "I did my usual spiel, but I don't think that had anything to do with it. Mattie?"

  "Yes?"

  "He knows you're in the show."

  "How?"

  "He's no dummy. He'd already figured it out."

  "You didn't tell him I'd asked for him?"

  "No."

  "Good. I don't want him to get the wrong idea."

  There was a silence from Garvey's end of the line before he spoke again. "Mattie, I'd be careful, if I were you. A man like Hunter Chadwick doesn't need someone else to give him ideas. You're playing with fire, and I don't want to see you burned."

  Hunter had told her the same thing. Tingles of delight raised the hair on her arms and made her shiver. She laughed with exhilaration. "Don't worry about me. And don't worry about the show. My little plan won't interfere with the performance. You'll have to get a Wells Fargo van to haul off the money we raise."

  "You're a trouper, Mattie. But just remember what I said."

  "Thanks, Clayburn. I will."

  After Mattie hung up, she looked at the phone and smiled. The smile became a chuckle and the chuckle became an outburst of glee. She pranced around the room, laughing and thinking all manner of outrageous thoughts. Her music was forgotten as she savored this moment of victory.

  "I've got you now. Hunter Chadwick," she announced to the empty room. "Every day you will have to see me at rehearsal. I'm planning to tie your heart in knots and feed it to the vultures. Yessir, that's exactly what I’ll do."

  She swept by the desk and picked up her music. She flipped the pages absently and continued her diabolical plans. "I'm going to make you fall down and worship at my feet. Then I'm going to tear out that two-timing heart of yours and scatter it all over Texas. Before I'm through with you, you'll wish you'd never heard the name Mattie Houston."

  Still chuckling with wicked glee, she walked to the baby grand. She ran her hands lightly over the keys, rippling the treble notes, chording the bass. Her excitement flowed through her fingers and translated into a rousing jazz tune, a song of victory.

  And while she played, she thought of Hunter. She imagined how he would look at her after she'd made him fall in love with her again—those eyes, black as Tar Baby, shining with that amber gleam of desire.

  "Hunter." She didn't even know she had whispered his name. Without thinking, she segued into Summer Wind. She leaned over the piano, caressing the keys, flowing with the melody, feeling the rhythm.

  Awareness of the song gradually seeped into her consciousness, and she jerked her hands away from the keyboard. Why did that song haunt her?

  She stood up and walked swiftly away from the piano. She wasn't afraid. She certainly wasn't afraid of Hunter, and she wasn't afraid of being burned. Nothing could stop her. If necessary, she'd wear asbestos.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Every eye in the rehearsal hall was on her, and Mattie knew it. As she played, the music electrified her, made her whole body come alive.

  Hunter was sitting in the front row, long legs stretched out, one arm flung carelessly across the empty seat beside him. He appeared to be paying no special notice to her, but she had glanced his way often enough to know that he was aware of every move she made.

  She grinned. Things were going her way. She brought Time on my Hands to a rousing conclusion and winked broadly at Hunter. He acknowledged the wink by quirking one eyebrow upward. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

  "That was great, Mattie. Stupendous!" The director of the benefit, Jo Ann Tyler, stood up and led the applause. She pushed her glasses up into her stylish mop of dark curls and consulted her note pad. "Do you want to go on, or do you want to take a break?"

  "One more, Jo Ann."

  The director turned to the other performers. "We’ll take a break after Mattie finishes this one."

  Mattie swiveled on the piano bench and looked down at Hunter. 'This one's for you." She spoke clearly enough for everybody in the front row to hear.

  Jo Ann bent over her note pad, pretending she hadn't heard, but the two magicians craned their necks to get a better look at Hunter.

  Once again Mattie saw his eyebrow shoot upward. Hunter was playing it cool, but she planned to shake him up a bi
t before the night was over. As she began the opening bars of Temptation she was very well aware that he knew the words. One thing that had attracted them to each other in the first place was his genuine love for music and his ability to sing along with most of the songs she played. He sang quite well, if she remembered correctly.

  She grinned as he tensed and sat forward. He was getting the message. The big question was what would he do about it?

  She wasn't long finding out. As soon as the song ended and everyone left the rehearsal hall, he jumped onto the stage and leaned against the piano.

  "So I'm born to be kissed, am I, Mattie?"

  She smiled. "That's what the song said."

  "What do you intend to do about it?"

  "I don't plan to stand in line behind every other woman in Dallas."

  He chuckled. "If memory serves me, you have a rather unique way of annihilating your competition."

  "I fight dirty for what I want."

  "And what is it you want, Mattie?"

  The way he asked the question, with that amber light in his eyes, almost made her lose track of her purpose. She did a light glissando on the keyboard for reassurance, then rose from the piano bench. She was wearing shorts, and standing so close to him that she could feel the rough denim of his jeans against her bare thigh.

  "This is what I want." She closed the small space between them. Lacing her hands behind his neck, she molded her body to his. Their eyes locked, and she wasn't sure whether the thundering heart she felt was his or her own.

  He used to love her boldness. She remembered how he would always pull her hips against his and capture her lips every time she touched him. Lifting her head, she waited expectantly for his mouth to crush down on hers.

  Instead, he quirked an eyebrow upward again. "Well, Mattie?"

  "Well, what?"

  "Is this all you wanted? If so, hurry up. I'm in need of some refreshment before rehearsal starts again."

  “Damn you, Hunter.” She would have jerked away from him, but he suddenly locked his arms around her and hauled her roughly against him.

  "I didn't mention the kind of refreshment I had in mind." His smile was deceptively lazy. "I trust you were serious about being my slave, as the song says. I like my women willing and compliant."

  He hauled her into his arms right there on the brightly lit stage. It wasn't a kiss; it was an assault. It was Sherman sweeping through Atlanta. It was Joshua tumbling the walls of Jericho. It was Caesar conquering Gaul. As his lips commanded hers, his hands pressed and molded her hips, moving slowly across the back of her denim shorts, wandering downward to caress the bare flesh below them.

  Mattie was stunningly aware of his arousal. Her plan was working. She had Hunter in the palm of her hand. All she had to do was offer the body he knew so well, and she could do anything she wanted with him, including breaking his heart.

  For a brief while her mouth moved expertly and mechanically as she kissed him, leading him on. But just when she would have backed away, triumphant and unscathed, her body began to betray her. She felt a sudden rush of heat, a frantic thrumming of her pulse. Her lips parted, and she found herself returning his kiss. To her mortification she became willing and compliant in his arms. She melted against him, reveling in the heated thrust of his tongue.

  Revenge went begging. Betrayal was forgotten. The past didn't seem to matter. Nothing did except the moment and the kiss.

  She knew it was insanity, but that didn't matter either. She felt as if she were standing in the center of a rainbow, its brilliance pouring through her veins, its radiance seeping into her soul.

  Her hands crept up and wove into Hunter's untamed hair. The remembered feel of it, springy and alive and somehow very black, sent shock waves through her fingertips. She murmured his name against his lips and felt him smile. At first it was a small smile. Then it widened until it could no longer be contained.

  Hunter was laughing. The kissing stopped as he threw back his head and laughed.

  "Damn you. Hunter."

  "That's twice you've said that, Mattie."

  She would have pulled out of his embrace, but he held her tight.

  "You're reprehensible," she said. She didn't know whether she was more furious with him or with herself. She was fast losing control.

  "Why?" he asked. "Because I gave you what you wanted?" He tipped up her chin with one finger. "That was what you wanted, wasn't it?"

  She bit back a hateful no. Anger was no way to handle Hunter. In order for her plan to work, she had to be what he wanted. He did like his women willing and compliant. But he also liked them with a touch of spice.

  She forced herself to smile, hoping she'd combined just the right touch of playfulness and sensuality.

  "It will do for starters."

  "What else did you have in mind, Mattie? I'm willing to play this game."

  "Right here on center stage?"

  "Why not? We're both accustomed to publicity."

  "I don't think Dallas is ready for what I have in mind." She moved her hips provocatively against his. Even through all that denim she could feel the heat of him. It almost made her forget her purpose—again.

  Hunter caught his breath as he looked down at her. He held her tightly against him, savoring that well-remembered body for a small eternity. Then, abruptly, he let go.

  "Dallas may not be ready," he drawled, "but I am. Anytime, Mattie. Just crook your finger. Or better yet, play that song again. Temptation, wasn't it?" He reached over and traced her lips with his forefinger. "I'll add you to my list."

  He walked away quickly, while he still could. He had thought he could play Mattie's little game and not feel a thing. He'd been wrong. He'd never wanted her more than at that moment. Desire raged through him with a force that nearly snapped his control. As he left her standing on the stage, he considered his narrow escape. He'd come too close to backing her through the curtains into a dressing room and taking her with all the fury of a summer storm.

  "Just who was the tempted and who was the tempter in that game, Mattie Houston?" he muttered. But it didn't really matter. He felt an exhilaration he hadn't known since those sweet summer days when Mattie had been his love and Dallas had been his challenge.

  He was smiling when he walked into the lobby. "I don't know what you're up to, Mattie, but you're on."

  He didn't realize he'd spoken aloud, until Jo Ann handed him a glass of lemonade.

  "Is it the custom of toy makers to talk to themselves?" she asked.

  "Only the sexy ones." His conscious pricked him only a little as he looked at her over the rim of his glass. It wasn’t as if her were leading her on. Every woman in Dallas knew his reputation. And she might be the perfect antidote to Mattie.

  Jo Ann dimpled. "I've heard you were arrogant, but your conceit exceeds my expectations."

  "I'm always happy to oblige a beautiful woman. Are you busy tonight?"

  "I've also heard that you move fast." Jo Ann Tyler assessed him with her round, baby-blue eyes. "For you, I'll cut the rehearsal short."

  "It's going to be a mite crowded in that bed," Mattie said. She moved in and linked her arm through Hunter's. "Is ménage a trois your style now, Hunter?"

  He smiled down at her. "I'm game if you are."

  "I'm more than enough for any man. Two would be superfluous." Mattie glanced significantly at Jo Ann.

  Jo Ann's dimples faded. "When I'm directing a show, I like to keep it on a strictly professional basis. I hope everything has been satisfactory so far, Mattie."

  "When everything's going my way, I'm easy to please, Jo Ann." Mattie's smile made the remark bantering instead of egotistical.

  "Then there'll be no problem. Rehearsal will resume in ten minutes." Jo Ann Tyler took her dimples and her baby blues to the opposite side of the lobby and struck up an animated conversation with Captain Kangaroo.

  "Care for a sip of my lemonade?" Hunter asked, offering his glass to Mattie.

  "Yes. Being bitchy always makes me
thirsty." She took a big swallow and handed the glass back to him.

  He lifted it and ran his tongue over the rim exactly where her lips had touched. The unexpected sensuality of the move made her breath catch in her throat.

  He lowered the glass. "Are you, Mattie?"

  "Am I what?"

  "Still more than enough for one man?"

  Her heart caught when he said still. Was he remembering or was it a slip of the tongue? Careful. This was a game, not a trip down memory lane.

  She made her smile provocative. "Yes."

  "What's to be the proving ground? My bed or yours?"

  Her eyes widened. She didn't know why his boldness shocked her. He'd always been forthright and aggressive.

  "What's the matter, Mattie? Scared?" His black eyes raked her boldly from head to toe.

  "Certainly not." Her chin lifted as she rose to the challenge. After all, this was what she'd set out to do. If he moved things along faster than she'd imagined, that simply meant she could put all this behind her that much sooner.

  "Good," he said. "From the look on your face, I was beginning to think I'd have to kidnap you."

  "You'd do it, wouldn't you?"

  "Yes. Since you've deprived me of one woman tonight, I see no reason why you shouldn't be a fairly good substitute."

  "I’ll make you eat those words. Hunter Chadwick."

  "I'm counting on it, Mattie Houston."

  "After rehearsal, then. Your bed." She walked away with more jauntiness than she felt. Playing this game was going to be harder than she had thought. Hunter was no ordinary man. His only consistency was in always doing saying the unexpected. He was bigger than life, virile, vital. And he was almost sinfully handsome.

  Mattie forced herself to walk into the rehearsal hall without looking back over her shoulder. Hunter was not an easy man to walk away from.

  "Here's to you, Mattie," he said softly. "You're one helluva gutsy lady." His pulse drummed with excitement as he thought of the evening ahead. Whatever her game plan, he was fascinated. This evening was going to be very interesting, he decided. More than that, it might prove to be educational. He might even get a glimpse of Mattie's motives. Pillow talk sometimes loosened the tongue.