by Janet Dailey
“Yes, I have. It's quite a festive occasion. A string quartet provides the music and all the guests are required to wear costumed dress of the Old South days.” Amanda artfully used the personal question to describe the atmosphere of the ball, hoping to sidetrack further questions of a similar nature. “The style of dresses is very similar to the ones we tour guides wear, only much more elaborate."
“With your red hair, you must have worn green,” the girl commented.
“Yes, I did. Now, if you will notice the chandeliers on each end of the room, they were imported—"
“Did you meet Jarod's cousin Judith?”
Amanda stopped her speech and turned slowly around to face the attractive brunette. Seething anger was nearing the boiling point.
“No, I did not,” she answered, and waited for the next question.
“How well do you know Jarod?"
“I barely know him at all, Miss Scott,” Amanda replied coldly and truthfully. “I'm employed by his corporation as a guide in his home."
“And that's all?” The blue gaze flicked arrogantly over her face, deliberately baiting and derisive. “I understand from Judith, who is a very dear personal friend of mine, that Jarod caused quite a sensation the night of the cotillion with the attention he paid to a certain redhead in an emerald green gown. Could that have been you?"
“As I recall, I did dance one dance with Mr. Colby.” Ice dripped from Amanda's voice.
“It's hardly something you're likely to forget, is it?” Vanessa suggested dryly. “Did he ask you out?"
Amanda's jaw clamped down tightly, allowing her reply to slip out through gritted teeth. “That is personal and none of your business!"
“It seems to be the whole town's business. And everything that has to do with Jarod I make my business.” A sickeningly sweet smile was directed at Amanda, who was already beginning to feel nauseated by the entire conversation. “You see, Jarod has his little flings from time to time."
“Since they never seem to last and he obviously keeps running back to you,” Amanda murmured sarcastically, “what's the point or purpose of this discussion?"
“None, really.” Slender shoulders were shrugged negligently. “I was merely curious to see who the little country charmer was."
“Now that you've accomplished that, there isn't any reason to continue the tour.” Under normal circumstances Amanda would have never allowed her cold rage to lead to rudeness to any visitor to Oak Run, but the woman's tone of superiority drove her to striking back. “I think the charade has gone far enough. You are no more interested in seeing the house than I am to show it to you. I'm sure you would much rather get back to your darling Jarod.” Her voice was beginning to shake with the violence of her anger. “I must say the two of you are very well suited to each other. You're both arrogant, conceited, egotistical—"
“That's enough, Miss Bennett!” a rough voice barked behind her.
Amanda spun around to stare at the murderous expression on Jarod's face. Her heart gave a wild, frightened leap at the unrelenting harshness in his eyes.
“Oh, darling—” Vanessa Scott moved swiftly forward to place a hand on his arm “—I'm sorry you had to hear such—"
“Would you wait for me in the car, please. I want to speak to Miss Bennett alone,” he interrupted coldly.
“Of course,” the girl murmured, flashing a triumphant look at Amanda before withdrawing from the room.
Amanda's brown eyes couldn't meet the contempt in his and she quickly lowered her gaze after Vanessa had left them alone. “I'll save you the trouble of firing me. I quit,” she snapped.
“I don't give a damn whether you quit or not! I want an explanation for your rudeness to Miss Scott!"
“I lost my temper!” she shouted back.
“That's an excuse, not an explanation.” He lowered his voice, but it still vibrated loudly in her ears. “I want to know why you treated a visitor with such insolence, Miss Bennett."
Amanda wearily pushed the hair away from her forehead, pain jabbing at her lungs. “Stop calling me that,” she muttered in frustration, unwilling to admit that the discussion leading up to her attack had been about him for fear he would think she had started it.
“What do you suggest I call you?” he jeered sarcastically. “Amanda?"
The contempt in his voice hurt more than she cared to admit. “I suppose it really doesn't matter,” she sighed.
“No, it doesn't,” Jarod snapped. Silence crushed them for an eternity of seconds. “I'm waiting for your explanation."
“What do you want me to say?” she demanded angrily. “How did you expect me to react when you paraded your latest mistress in front of me? What was I supposed to do? Smile and nod as if she was just another stranger?"
“Why should it matter to you?” His dark head was thrown back and he was looking arrogantly down at her. “You made it very clear the last time I talked to you that you wanted nothing more to do with me. Didn't you mean it?"
“Yes, I meant it,” Amanda confirmed nervously, regretting her jealous outburst of a second ago.
His hands closed around her waist while a compelling light glittered in his eyes. “Did you?”
“Yes,” she answered in a very tiny voice.
“I don't think you did.” A thick black brow arched complacently. “I believe you would like to go out with me again."
Amanda gazed helplessly into his face, so bluntly chiseled, so ruggedly masculine. The magic of his touch was beginning to work its spell on her.
“I won't beg you,” Jarod went on. “I'll ask you one last time. The answer is either yes or no."
It was an ultimatum. Amanda knew he would never ask again. It was a second chance if she wanted it. She did—and yet....
“I would like to, but—” she began nervously.
“Then you name the day, the place, and the time."
“Monday.” She breathed in deeply, braving the darkness of his gaze. “At one o'clock. We can spend the afternoon at Stone Mountain."
A sound of disgust rolled from Jarod's throat as he removed his hands from her waist and started to turn away. She caught at one of his hands and held it between her own, unconsciously caressing the curling hairs on the back of it.
“Jarod, I—” Amanda swallowed to ease the constriction in her throat “—I want to see you somewhere public."
His gaze watched the movement of her hands before it flicked aloofly to her upturned face. “Where I can't take advantage of you, is that it?” he asked.
“Yes, something like that,” she admitted. His mockery made her feel so uncomfortably adolescent.
“I'll pick you up Monday at one.” He slipped his hand from her unresisting hold and walked to the door.
“Jarod?” Her questioning call halted him at the threshold to the hall. He half turned to look back at her, his expression unrevealingly cool. “Do I still have a job?” she asked nervously.
“Frankly, I don't care."
Her head jerked back at the sting of his tone. Amanda pivoted quickly around so he couldn't see the effect his cruel indifference had on her.
“Damn!” he muttered under his breath, striding angrily to spin her around. His glowering look did little to assuage the tears burning the back of her eyes. “I don't interfere in the running of Oak Run. This is my aunt's pet project and she does the hiring and firing. If you want to hand in your resignation, give it to her.”
“I have to work to help with my college expenses this fall,” Amanda told him weakly.
The line of his eyes and mouth narrowed in exasperation. “I can't make up my mind if you're a schoolgirl or a woman!” he growled. “Keep your job, if that's what you want!"
Color flamed hotly beneath her skin. “Your work and your money are important to you. Why does it make me a schoolgirl if I feel the same?” she demanded. “Or are you simply regretting that you agreed to go out with a backcountry charmer like me?"
“Who called you that?” Amanda's mouth clamped
tightly shut at his sharp inquiry. “Vanessa did, didn't she? That's why you retaliated with that outburst I overheard. So I finally got my explanation. I'll see you on Monday."
This time Jarod didn't stop at the hall door, but continued out of the mansion. Amanda was slower in leaving the ballroom, appearing in the hall after his car had left.
“Are you fired?” Linda asked in wide-eyed wonder. “I couldn't help overhearing part of what was said."
“No, I'm not,” Amanda sighed in answer.
By the end of the week, she knew, the story of what happened today would be all over town. It would be useless to ask Linda to say nothing. There was more than one price to pay for seeing Jarod Colby, she realized. The fact that she was the first local girl he had shown any interest in only made the gossips more avidly malicious.
Chapter Seven
RISING ABOVE THE Georgia pines was a dome-shaped monolith, resembling the petrified remains of a great gray whale, five hundred and eighty-three acres of solid granite. Into its side was carved the sculpture of three of the most famous men in the short-lived history of the Confederate States of America: Jefferson Davis, president of the Confederacy; Stonewall Jackson, a general in the rebel army; and Robert E. Lee, a general and commander of all the Confederate armies. The entire work, the size of a city block, with the figure of Lee nearly as tall as a nine-story building, appeared the size of a postage stamp when compared go the immense proportions of Stone Mountain itself.
Amanda leaned back against Jarod's arm, his hand resting near the waistband of her lemon yellow slacks. As many times as she had seen the sculpture, she was still awed by its impressive size.
“Isn't it ironic,” she said, glancing into his face, “that Gutzon Borglum, who was first commissioned to do this carving in the 1920s, left in frustration after roughing in the figure of Lee and later became so famous for his work at Mount Rushmore in the Black hills of South Dakota. Here he was supposed to do the men of the Confederacy and there he completed the faces of four famous presidents of the United States, including Abraham Lincoln."
“Have you seen Mount Rushmore?” Jarod asked.
“No,” she answered with a shake of her head as a woman bumped into her and quickly apologized.
“It's getting a bit crowded here. Let's go somewhere else,” he suggested, his arm propelling her away from the viewing patio below the sculpture. “Where to now? Do you want to visit the game farm where you can feed the animals? Go on a train ride or tour the plantation?"
The dryness of his voice revealed the subtle sarcasm hidden in his tone. Crowds of tourists everywhere and Amanda marveled at her own audacity in asking him to bring her here.
“We could go over to the carillon, I suppose,” she said, shrugging.
“Do you think it's safer to walk or drive?"
“I'd rather walk.” They skirted Memorial Hall, sometimes following the wake of other departing tourists and other times going against the flow of those arriving. “I'm sorry, Jarod. It wasn't a very good idea to come here, was it?"
“Considering you wanted to use the crowds to insulate yourself from me, I think it was an excellent idea,” he contradicted her mockingly. “I'm surprised you're willing to allow me to hold your hand.”
“Stop making me feel more miserable than I already am.” Her gaze unhappily studied the pavement.
“This was your idea,” Jarod reminded her. “What were we supposed to accomplish today?"
“I wanted to get to know you better, to find out more about you than just the fact that you own Colby Enterprises.” Her voice was uneven.
“I can think of better places than this,” he muttered bitterly.
“Let's forget the carillon and take me home. This whole thing is a disaster."
“Hardly a disaster,” he murmured, although he shifted their direction to take them to the parking lot and his car. “You did learn something about me today."
“That you don't like crowds.” A grimace pulled down the corners of her mouth.
“That, and the fact that I'm willing to put up with them in order to persuade you to meet me halfway.” A light flickered briefly in his eyes before he turned his gaze away from her. “As beautiful as this park is, I can't say that I'm sorry to leave."
“Is that why you came today?” Disbelief was in her upturned face.
“I know you're frightened of me. It's there sometimes in those brown eyes of yours.” Jarod opened the car door and helped her in while she digested his statement. The truth was she was afraid of herself.
“We don't have very much in common,” she asserted as he slid behind the wheel and started the car.
“I have to breathe, eat and sleep the same as you. The only difference is I may have steak more often than you do.” His mouth curved in amusement. “Having money doesn't set a man apart or make him better than others who don't have as much.” Her face was a study of amazement when he glanced her way. “You look surprised."
“I never expected to hear Jarod Colby say such a thing."
“You did call me arrogant and conceited the other day. I am accustomed to getting what I want,” Jarod admitted wryly, “mostly because I won't take no for an answer."
“Once you get something, do you still want it?”
“What are you asking?” Dark eyes moved over her face. “Do you want to know how long I'll keep you around after I know you better? That's a question I don't have the answer for yet."
“At least you're honest about it.” Amanda breathed out slowly.
“I try to be honest about everything. I told you in the beginning that I wanted you. I wouldn't be here today if it weren't still true.” His comment was made almost indifferently and Amanda found herself coloring at his candor. “How do you feel about me?"
“I don't know if I like you.” She spoke hesitantly, staring straight ahead as he drove easily through the heavy traffic. “I'm attracted to you physically, but I can't make up my mind about you."
“Don't take too long.” Beneath the teasing note in his voice she sensed a hidden threat, an ominous assertion that he wouldn't wait forever for her decision.
The traffic was heavy during the journey back to Oak Springs. There seemed little necessity for conversation until Jarod stopped the car in front of Amanda's house. Shifting his weight, he stretched his arm along the back of the seat and looked at her.
“Now that we've dispensed with some of your nervousness, will you have dinner with me tomorrow night? At a public restaurant, if that will ease your mind further,” he added with a wicked gleam dancing in his eyes.
“I'd like to, yes,” Amanda agreed. The movement of her mouth brought dimples into play. “Thank you for today."
“Don't let my patience go unrewarded.” His fingers closed over her shoulder and slowly drew her toward him. He took her lips in a lingering kiss, then gently pushed her back to her own side of the car.
Her hand closed over the door handle of the car.
“What time will you be here tomorrow?”
“Six-thirty."
“I'll be ready,” Amanda responded with a smile, suddenly feeling very happy as she got out of the car.
The next twenty-four hours winged by unbelievably fast. Before Amanda realized it, she was dashing down the stairs to meet Jarod. This time there was no tension in the conversation. They talked easily and on varied subjects during the drive to the restaurant. She found he could exert a vast amount of charm. During their meal she became impressed with his keen sense of humor. By the time it was over, she knew there were no doubts remaining that she was confusing her teenage infatuation with the attraction he held for her now.
“Where are we going now?” she asked when he escorted her from the restaurant to his car.
“You,” he emphasized lightly, “are going home.”
Amanda glanced at her watch. It was barely nine o'clock. As if he had read the question that sprang into her eyes, Jarod added, “I'm leaving early in the morning and I have some work to do be
fore I leave."
“Oh. I see,” she murmured uncertainly. The next question rushed out before she could stop it. “When will you be back?"
“Saturday, I hope. Why? Will you miss me?” His eyes mocked her.
“Don't tease, Jarod. You know I will."
“Why do you think I would know that if you don't tell me?” They were inside the car and he switched on the interior light so he could study her face.
“You always seem so certain.” Self-consciously she brushed her hair from her face.
“I never seem to feel so certain when it comes to you. Perhaps that's why you intrigue me so."
“Are you going to Pennsylvania again?” She swallowed.
“Yes. I'll try to be back by Saturday night. We may yet have our date on a Saturday.” His fingers closed over her hand. “Do you have to huddle against the door?"
“I'm not,” she protested.
“You're an awfully long way from me. Come on, sit over here,” he commanded. The gentle pull of his hold brought her beside him, his arm circling her shoulders while he nestled her head against his shoulder. Without indicating that she was causing the least encumbrance, he started the car and one-handedly reversed it out of the parking lot into the streets. “Do you know how long it's been since I've held you this close?” She felt the brush of his chin across the top of her head. “The last time was in your father's office."
A warm glow spread over her, her skin tingling at the remembered encounter. She resisted the impulse to snuggle closer and sighed contentedly instead.
“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?” Jarod asked softly, his hand caressing the upper part of her arm.
“Yes.” The affirmation came out in a soft whisper.
“What are you going to do while I'm gone?”
“Why?"
But he ignored her query. “If I have any problems, I may not be back by Saturday. I'll call you in that event. All right?"
“Of course,” Amanda agreed, unwillingly recognizing that they had made the turn onto the street where she lived.
