LED ASTRAY

by Sandra Brown

  "You'll take it, then?" Roxy asked.

  "Yes, I suppose so," Jenny answered, wondering why the other woman was so obviously pleased.

  "Fantastic. I'm glad you'll be a neighbor. Come on, let's go back to the office."

  Within fifteen minutes Jenny had a copy of the contract and a set of keys in her hand. "You can move in tomorrow. In the morning I'll go over and air it out a bit."

  "Thank you." She and Roxy shook hands. Cage escorted Jenny to the car, saw that she was settled in the front seat, and then returned to Roxy, who was still standing in her opened front door.

  "Thanks for playing along about the rent."

  "You threw me a curve bail, but I picked up on it," Roxy said, smiling up at him. "Are you gonna fill me in on the details of this 'arrangement,' or am I gonna have to use my vivid imagination?"

  "Nosy?"

  "Damn right."

  He laughed. "We'll talk later. Thanks for everything."

  "Don't mention it. What are friends for?"

  He kissed her quickly on the lips and patted her fanny before he sauntered down the steps and joined Jenny in the car. She was sitting as rigid as a statue staring straight ahead, spears of jealousy knifing into her chest.

  She hadn't overheard the conversation at the door, but she had seen the way they smiled at each other and how Cage had bent down to kiss Roxy. The easy familiarity with which they touched each other wrenched at Jenny's composure. Despite her avowals that she didn't care, her heart was slowly tearing in two.

  "First thing in the morning we'll hit the furniture stores," Cage was saying.

  "You've done enough. I can't ask you—"

  "You didn't ask, all right?" he said testily. "I volunteered. Make a list tonight of everything you'll need."

  "I won't be able to afford much. Just the essentials. By the way, where are we going now?" Until that moment she hadn't remembered that for tonight she was still homeless. Where would she spend the night?

  "I didn't think you wanted to go back to the parsonage."

  "No."

  "You could come home with me."

  "You don't have the room."

  "In that big house?"

  "There's only one bed."

  "So? We've shared a bed before." The reminder was qui­etly and huskily spoken. She didn't comment on it. After several seconds he sighed and said, "I'm checking you into a motel."

  It was no sooner said than he pulled his car under the porte cochere of a chain motel. "Wait here."

  Jenny watched him enter the well-lighted lobby. Through the plate-glass front she saw the night clerk swing his legs down from his desk and set his spy thriller novel aside. That he recognized Cage was obvious by the wide grin and hearty handshake he gave him.

  He didn't even require Cage to sign the register, but immediately reached for a room key and slid it across the counter. Leaning forward in a conspiratorial, lets-have-a-man-to-man-chat posture, he said something that caused Cage to wave his hand in negligent dismissal.

  The clerk squinted through the window toward the car. Jenny saw his surprised expression when he recognized her. Grinning up at Cage, he made another comment that drew Cage's brows into a deep scowl. It was still there when he returned to the car after bidding the clerk a brusque good night.

  "What did he say?"

  "Nothing," Cage ground through his teeth.

  "He said something. I saw him."

  Cage didn't respond, but drove straight to the room without even having to check the numbers on the doors. He brought the car to a jarring halt and angrily cut the engine.

  "You've been here before," Jenny said intuitively.

  "Jenny—"

  "Haven't you?"

  "—drop it."

  "Haven't you?"

  "Maybe."

  "Often?"

  "Yes!"

  "With women?"

  "Yes!"

  Her chest was in danger of caving in around her heart. She could barely speak, it hurt so much to draw sufficient air. "You've brought women here to affairs and that's what the clerk thinks I'm doing with you. What did he say about me?"

  "It doesn't matter what he—"

  "It matters to me," she shouted. "Tell me."

  "No."

  He got out of the car and jerked her bags from behind the seat. Without waiting to see if she followed him, he strode toward the door of the motel room and unlocked it. He flung the luggage on the rack in the closet and flipped on the lamp.

  "What did he say?" Jenny demanded from the doorway.

  Cage spun around and saw her resolved expression. She looked tired and distraught, angry and vulnerable. Her hair was disheveled and her cheeks were pale. Her eyes were ringed with violet shadows of fatigue. Her mouth was trembling slightly. She looked like a lost child and an unvanquished soldier.

  He had never wanted her more. But he couldn't have her and that only fueled his anger. She was his, dammit, but he couldn't claim her. He needed her just as much as she needed him, but circumstance was keeping them apart. He was paying dearly for that one night of heaven. Desire to possess her again was making his life hell on earth.

  Wanting to hurt her as much as he was hurting, he lashed out. "All right, Miss Fletcher. You want to know what he said? He said that I was keeping it in the family this time."

  She clamped her top teeth over her bottom lip to keep from screaming in outrage. Indignation boiled up inside her, seeking an outlet. Cage was the only one to vent it against.

  "Do you see what you've done?" she cried. "You announced to Roxy Clemmons, whom everybody knows is one of your sluts, that I'm pregnant. Now you've brought me to a motel where you regularly bring other women. It'll be all over town tomorrow that I was here with you. Well, I don't want to be dragged from lair to lair like a prize. I don't want anybody to mistake me for one of your lovers, Cage."

  "Why? Because I'm so rotten? You don't want to be as­sociated with the 'bad boy,' that wild preacher's kid that no one can control, the one who's always in trouble, always in a scrape, always involved with the wrong woman?"

  He had advanced toward her with a predatory gait. She tried to back away from him, but was trapped by the dresser. "I didn't mean it that way."

  "The hell you didn't," he snarled. "Well, you've got every right to be cautious where I'm concerned. I am bad. I must be. Damn bad." One hand shot out and cupped the back of her head. The strong fingers knotted in her hair and pulled her head back. "Because I have brought a lot of women to this room, but I never wanted one as much as I want you."

  He encircled her wrist with his other hand and dragged her hand down. "No!" she cried when she realized his intent. She pulled on her hand, but he wouldn't release it. He shoved it past his waist and forced it flat against his body, pressing, making sure she felt the steely evidence of his arousal behind the fly of his jeans.

  "That's how much I want you. I've wanted you for a long time and I'm tired of hiding the fact. Now, does that make you scared? Sick? Disgusted? Does it make you want to cringe? To scream? Or skulk back to the safety of the parson­age?" He ground himself into her palm. "Well, that's just tough. Jenny, because this is the way it is."

  He kissed her with barely controlled savagery. Unleashing all his emotions, he twisted his mouth against hers, tilting his head first to one side then to the other. His tongue plunged deep, withdrew, sank again more slowly and thoroughly into her mouth, evocative of coupling.

  Then just as furiously as he had possessed her, he released her. He stormed out of the door and pulled it closed behind him with a resounding slam.

  Jenny staggered to the bed and collapsed. She tried to deny that she was disappointed he hadn't finished what he had started. But she was. Her body was weak and fluttery with longing. Garnering what little strength was left her, she stumbled into the bathroom and peeled off her clothes. She avoided the mirror, not wanting to see the flags of color in her cheeks or the rosy readiness of her breasts.

  The shower was hot and punishing, jus
t the ticket for the self-flagellation she deserved. The jetting spray stung her skin like driving needles. It was still tingling when she took a night-gown from her suitcase and pulled it on. She climbed into bed and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that would close off her mind as well.

  But the kiss was too recent to be banished from her memory. She could still taste him on her lips, still feel the rigid proof of his sex against her hand, still recall the cadence of his kiss as his tongue thrust against hers.

  When the telephone rang near her ear, she jumped as though lightning had struck her. "Hello."

  "I'm sorry."

  Neither of them said anything for ponderous moments. Jenny's breasts trembled with emotion beneath her batiste nightie. She cradled the receiver between her cheek and shoul­der as though inclining her head toward Cage. "It's all right."

  "I lost my temper."

  "I provoked you."

  "We've been through an ordeal today."

  "We were both touchy."

  "Did I hurt you?"

  "No, of course you didn't hurt me."

  "I was rough." His voice dropped significantly. "And crude."

  She looked down at her hand as though to see an imprint there. She swallowed. "I survived."

  "Jenny?"

  "What?"

  A long pause. "I'm not sorry I kissed you. I'm only sorry for the way I kissed you." He let that sink in, then added, "And if you were ever in any doubt about how I feel about you, it's no secret now."

  Touched by the gentle, but imperative, tone of his voice, her throat ached with the need to cry. "I'm not ready to think about that, Cage. So much has happened."

  "I know, I know. Get a good night's sleep. Sleep late. The office will be closed tomorrow. I'll pick you up, feed you breakfast, and then take you shopping. Be ready at ten sharp."

  "Okay."

  "G'night, Jenny."

  "G'night, Cage."

  * * *

  "Good morning, Jenny."

  "Hm?"

  "I said good morning."

  Jenny yawned broadly into the pillow, stretched her pointed toes as far as she could reach beneath the covers, and pried her eyes open. Then she popped erect. Cage was sitting on the edge of her bed, smiling down at her. "Welcome back to the land of the living."

  "What time is it?"

  "Ten after ten. I arrived at ten o'clock on the dot, knocked, and got no answer. I went to the lobby to pick up an extra key and let myself in."

  "I'm sorry," she said, raking the hair out of her eyes. She blushed becomingly under his ardent perusal of her sleepy disarray and inched the sheet up higher over her breasts. "I was exhausted."

  "Hungry?"

  "Starving."

  "I'll go order breakfast in the coffee shop while you get dressed." He dropped an airy kiss on the tip of her nose before pulling himself off the bed.

  "I'll be right there," she called to him as he closed the door behind him.

  She looked fresh and rested when she joined him twenty minutes later in the coffee shop. She had dressed in a simple skirt and blouse, but had accessorized them with a paisley shawl tied at her waist under one arm. Her shoes had low heels and narrow ankle straps that captured Cage's attention as she crossed the casual dining room toward him.

  He knew she had taken one of her first pay checks and used it to refurbish her wardrobe. She was dressing with more flair than she had when she was engaged to Hal.

  "Am I late?"

  "Your food just got here. I like your shoes, by the way."

  "They're new," she said absently, eyeing the platters of food at her plate setting. "All of this is for me?"

  "Yep."

  "You don't expect me to eat it all, do you?"

  "I expect you to make a big dent in it. Get busy. I'm out­lining our attack."

  "Aren't you eating?" she asked, spreading the napkin in her lap.

  "I went ahead." His head was bent over a note pad where he was jotting down an extensive list of households items she would need.

  Jenny was taken by the endearing picture he made. There were a thousand shades of blond and brown and ash in his hair, but it all added up to dusty blond color that looked rug­ged and perpetually wind-tossed.

  His cheeks and chin had been closely shaved and the brisk scent of his cologne overwhelmed even the aroma of fresh coffee as the waitress filled Jenny's cup. His tawny brow was furrowed with concentration.

  He was dressed in jeans and a sport shirt, but there was a raw silk jacket draped over the back of his chair. It was an odd wardrobe combination, and one only a man who flagrantly broke all the rules could get by with.

  He was gorgeous in a sexy, dangerous way. Jenny knew just how dangerous his appeal could be. It drew a woman out of her shell until she didn't recognize herself anymore. Jenny had to consciously settle her stomach down before she could take a bite of food.

  By the time she had eaten enough breakfast to suit him, he had their itinerary mapped out. "Remember my budget," she said when he enumerated the stores they would shop in.

  "Maybe your boss will give you a raise."

  She stopped on her way to his car and turned to face him. Her chin was stubbornly set. "Get this straight. Cage. I won't accept your charity."

  "Will you marry me?"

  "No."

  "Then shut up and get in." He held the door of the Corvette open for her and she knew further argument was futile. She'd just have to put her foot down when it came to what she could buy and what she couldn't.

  He had expensive taste and everything he liked was exactly what she would have selected had money been no object. "I can't afford this sofa. The other one costs half as much."

  "It's ugly as sin."

  "It's functional."

  "It's hard and … boxy. This one has cushions a foot thick and is so comfy."

  "That's what makes it expensive. Comfy and cushions aren't that important."

  His grin was Satan-inspired and his voice was slurred with innuendo. "That all depends on what you're going to do on the sofa."

  The sales clerk standing near enough to overhear snickered, but drew a serious face when Jenny turned around and glared at him. "I'll take the other one," she said with prim hauteur.

  They had the same argument over the bed, chairs, a dinette, linens, dishes, pots and pans, even a can opener. In every case he urged her to pay a premium price for top quality merchandise. She was adamantly stingy.

  "Tired?"

  She was resting her head on the back of the car seat. "Yes," she sighed. "I'll probably never move from this apartment. I couldn't go through this again."

  He laughed. "I've arranged for everything we bought to be delivered this afternoon. By nightfall that apartment will be like home sweet home."

  "How'd you manage to get everything delivered today?"

  "Bribes, threats, blackmail, any way I could."

  He was smiling mischievously, but she believed him.

  "That looks like my car!" She sat up straight when he stopped in front of her apartment.

  "It is your car," Cage said nonchalantly as he assisted her out of the Corvette.

  "How did it get here?"

  "I had it towed." He opened the door of her compact and leaned down to fish the keys from beneath the floor mat where he had instructed the tow truck driver to leave them. He tossed them to her. "Frankly I think it's a pile of no-class junk, but I know you're attached to it."

  She looked distressed. "Cage, I didn't want to take anything from your parents."

  Placing his hands on his hips, he said, "For godsake, Jenny, they gave you this car as a present years ago. Why do they need three cars—theirs, Hal's, and yours—in their driveway when Mother rarely even drives?"

  She marched toward the car and moved him aside so she could get in. "I'm taking it back."

  He bent down and stuck his head in the open window after she had shut the door. "Then I'll be your only means of trans­portation," he reminded her in a singsong voice.

&nb
sp; In weary surrender, she laid her head on the steering wheel. "That's blackmail."

  "That's right."

  Laughing in spite of herself, she let him lead her into the apartment. Roxy had made good on her promise. The windows had been opened and the fresh air had rid the rooms of their stuffiness.

  Within a half hour her purchases began to arrive. "Oh, you've made a mistake!" Jenny exclaimed as she opened the door for the first delivery.

  "No mistake, miss. Excuse me." The man transferred his fat cigar from one side of his month to the other and casually brushed past her as he carried in a chair. "Bring the sofa on in," he yelled back to his helpers, who were climbing down from the truck.

  "But wait, that's the wrong one."

  "It's the one written on the ticket." He sat the chair down and handed her the green invoice.

  Her eyes quickly scanned the invoice, then went back over it more carefully. "Oh, no! Cage, there's been some terri­ble—"

  She broke off when she saw his smile. His backside was trying out the cushiony couch he had chosen, his arms stretched out along its back. He was smiling like a gratified Santa Claus on Christmas morning.

  "What have you done?" she grated.

  "Sabotage is the word that comes to mind."

  That was exactly the word that applied. As piece after piece of merchandise was delivered, she realized that he had gone behind her and ordered the things she had wanted but couldn't afford. "How am I supposed to pay for all this?" she cried.

  "Credit. Whatever you paid today went as a down payment. I arranged monthly terms for you that you can afford. A single woman should establish credit. So what's the problem?"

  "I can't let you do this, Cage. You're railroading me into making decisions that go against my better judgment. But it's going to stop right now. I won't stay in this apartment if it means keeping all this furniture."

  "All right." Those two words of concession should have been accompanied by a sigh and a dejected slump of his broad shoulders. Instead he was grinning broadly. He went to the front door and whistled piercingly. "Hey, fellows, load it all back up and take it out to my place. She's decided to marry me instead of living here alone."