LED ASTRAY

by Sandra Brown

  "Oh, Lord," Jenny groaned and covered her face with her hands. "Uncle, uncle!"

  Laughing, Cage closed the door and moved toward her.

  "Haven't you got anything better to do than baby-sit me?"

  "Nothing I can think of."

  "Since Hal went away, you've been wonderful. Why are you doing all this for me, Cage?"

  The golden eyes wandered over her face. With one index finger, he brushed a strand of her hair off her forehead. "Because I like the color of your hair. Especially when the after­noon sunlight shines on it the way it is now."

  He moved closer. Her head tilted back naturally so she could gaze up into his chiseled face. "And I like your eyes," he said softly.

  He reached beneath her arm and untied the ends of her shawl. He drew it off slowly, as though he were peeling away a much more personal article of clothing, and dropped it neg­ligently onto the floor.

  "I love the way you laugh. And the way the sound of it makes me feel on the inside."

  He settled his hands on either side of her waist and lightly seesawed them up and down. "I like the way your body is made."

  He lowered his head and nuzzled her ear. "And the shape of your mouth."

  A heartbeat later his lips drifted over hers. He pecked her mouth softly, repeatedly, until her lips parted, all but begging to be possessed.

  He heeded her silent yearning and melded their mouths to­gether. His tongue slid deep into her mouth and prowled at will. The violence of last night's kiss was gone, but this tender one was just as potent and awakened her body as earth­-shatteringly as it had been stirred the night before. Driven by a craving to get closer, she took unconscious steps toward him. When her body was plastered against his from chest to knees, she was almost surprised to find it so.

  "God, Jenny," he whispered. His breath was hot and fra­grant against her flushing cheeks. His lips were dewy as he caught her earlobe between his teeth and arousingly worried it with small nibbles.

  She felt herself slipping into silky surrender again, losing control, turning her common sense and her senses over to a reckless master.

  "Cage, we shouldn't do—"

  "Shh, shh."

  Her memory quickened. She should remember something. She knew it.

  But before she could grasp the elusive memory, his mouth was making love to hers again and all thought scattered.

  He lifted her arms and folded them around his shoulders. Then his hands slid from her elbows down the undersides of her arms to the shallows of her armpits. He paused an instant before continuing downward to the outer curves of her breasts. He massaged them with the heels of his hands. Jenny sighed into his mouth.

  "Feel good?"

  She murmured an affirmation. The kiss deepened.

  She angled her head so that one of her cheeks was lying on his chest. He bent his head down low over hers, seeking, al­ways seeking, for her taste with his agile tongue. His arms went around her and drew her closer still. One of his hands slipped below her waist to her derriere. He pressed her against him, positioning her so she would feel the full urgency of his desire.

  She moaned and rubbed her middle against his. The heart of her femininity felt feverish and swollen, but it was a deli­cious malady she suffered from. She throbbed, achingly but wonderfully.

  "Jenny, I want you."

  He moved his hand between their bodies, covered her breast, kneaded it lovingly. The pad of his middle finger found the sensitive crest and coaxed it into hard arousal.

  "Ah, that's sweet." He complimented her as though she had done something miraculous. "So sweet. I want to see it, taste it, taste you."

  He ducked his head and kissed her breast through her blouse. His tongue moistly nudged the tight peak. "I want to make love to you." He moved his mouth to her throat, where his lips could touch her warm skin. His voice was hoarse. "Do you understand? I want to be inside you. Deep, deep." His lips claimed hers again, wildly, more demanding.

  "Hey, you two, open up." There was banging on the door. "I've brought the party."

  Cage lifted his mouth from Jenny's and uttered a vicious obscenity. Then he drew in a shaky breath. He looked back down at Jenny and smiled crookedly. "We can't deliberately hurt her feelings."

  Jenny worked herself free of his arms.

  He went to the door and welcomed Roxy inside.

  * * *

  Chapter 9

  «^»

  Roxy bounced in, carrying a jug of wine in one hand and a grocery sack in the other. "Hey, what's all this?" Cage asked, relieving her of the sack. He peeped inside. "Chips, dips, pop­corn, and cheese."

  "Just as I said, a party," Roxy chirped happily. "Hi, Jenny. Is the apartment all right?"

  "It's fine, thank you."

  "Gee, it looks terrific." Roxy whistled as she surveyed the new furniture. Cage had had the delivery men arrange it as they carried it in, after having consulted with Jenny on where everything was to go. The pieces fit well within the dimensions of the room.

  "Got glasses?" Roxy asked. "Come on, let's toast your new place." Without invitation she made her way into the kitchen, with Cage right behind her. Jenny had no choice but to follow, though it was crowded in the small kitchen with all three of them.

  Cage ripped open a package of corn chips and popped the lid off a plastic container of prepared dip. He gouged into it with his chip and offered it to Roxy. She took a bite of it, laughing because she was trying to pull the cork out of the wine bottle at the same time. What Roxy didn't eat of the chip and dip, Cage put into his own mouth. Then he licked his fingers.

  Jenny remained in the background, feeling out of her ele­ment in the midst of their hilarity. She wasn't in a party mood.

  "I don't provide this service to all my tenants, you under­stand," Roxy told Jenny as she washed the price tags off the glasses they had bought that afternoon. Apparently Roxy had no qualms about making herself right at home in a stranger's kitchen. "But since you're a friend of Cage's and he's a friend of mine… Ugh!" She grunted when he reached around her from behind and hugged her hard, his hands locked beneath her lush breasts.

  "You betcha. Friends to the bitter end."

  "Get away from me, you fool, and slice the cheese."

  Jenny felt like a fifth wheel. She didn't belong with them. She didn't know how to participate in their kind of teasing banter. Roxy seemed to know exactly what to say to make Cage burst into laughter. His hands were unintimidated about touching her frequently.

  Why their shared familiarity should bother her so much Jenny didn't know. How had she expected them to behave around each other? After all, they were lovers. She knew that. But knowing it and actually witnessing it were two different things. It hurt her to the core that Cage had been kissing her with such tender fervor only seconds before Roxy made her untimely appearance.

  Could he turn his passions off and on at will? Had he al­ready forgotten that he had been kissing her, telling her how much he wanted her? Could he transfer his affection from one woman to another so quickly? Apparently he could. The evi­dence of his chameleon desires was right in front of her.

  When the wine was poured, they toasted her new home. Jenny took one sip of the inexpensive vintage. She set her glass down, and, with an "Excuse me" that she wasn't even sure they heard over their laughter, went into the bathroom and closed the door. She barely made it in time to be sick in the commode.

  "Jenny?" Cage tapped on the bathroom door a few mo­ments later. His voice was laced with concern. "Is something wrong?"

  "I'll be right out," she called through the door. She washed her face, rinsed out her mouth, and combed her fingers through her hair.

  "Are you mad at us?" Cage asked the moment she opened the door. "I know how you feel about drinking. This is your place. We didn't mean to offend you."

  It was then that she knew she loved him.

  Probably she always had. But it wasn't until that moment, that instant, when he was gazing down at her with such contrition, tha
t she realized she did.

  She had been deluding herself for all these years, telling herself that if she stayed away from him, her attraction to him would wane. But all this time it had been secretly nestling inside her like an oyster in its shell, gathering grains of knowl­edge about Cage, a glance, a touch, a sound, until her love for him was like a rare and precious pearl imbedded in her soul.

  She wanted to walk into his arms, to be held close, to cling to his strength. But she wouldn't. Couldn't. It was unheard of. Jenny Fletcher and Cage Hendren? Impossible. She was pregnant with another man's child, his brother's child. Even if that weren't so, they were totally unsuited to each other. Had any two people ever been more different? Their being together in any kind of romantic relationship was a hopeless prospect.

  Oh, but she loved him!

  "No, it isn't that, Cage," she said, giving him a weak smile. "I don't feel too well."

  He tensed. "The baby? Is it bad? Cramps? Blood? What? Should I call the doctor?"

  "No, no." She put a restraining hand on his arm but immediately withdrew it. "I'm just tired. I was on my feet all day and I think it's catching up with me."

  "I should be shot at sunrise," he said. "I should have tucked you into bed the minute we got home."

  "I didn't have a bed then."

  He scowled at her attempt at humor. "Well, as soon as it was delivered I should have tucked you in." He took her hand and led her into the living room. "Say good night, Roxy. We're leaving the lady so she can get some rest."

  Roxy sprang off the new sofa and looked at Jenny closely. "You're pale as a ghost, honey," she said, laying the back of her hand on Jenny's pallid cheek. "Is there anything I can do?"

  Yes, leave, Jenny wanted to shout. And keep your hands off Cage. Her primary illness was jealousy. She acknowledged it, but she couldn't ward it off. She just wanted Cage's mistress out of her house. "No. I'll be fine after I get to bed," she said tactfully.

  Over her protests, Roxy and Cage made up her new bed, spreading the crisp sheets over it. "Tomorrow you might want to wash these and soften them up a bit," Roxy suggested. "If you need any help carrying them into the laundry room, call me."

  "Thank you," she said, knowing good and well she'd never be asking Roxy Clemmons for any favors.

  When the bed was made to their satisfaction, they gathered up the party snacks and wine. At the front door Cage took both Jenny's hands in his. "Lock up after us."

  "I will."

  "If you need me, in the middle of the night, anytime, for anything, go to Roxy's and call me."

  "Don't worry about me."

  "I'll worry about you if I damn well feel like it," he said crossly. "You'll have a phone installed tomorrow."

  "But I didn't order—"

  He placed his index finger against her lips. "I did, when you went to the ladies' room after lunch. Now, good night and get some sleep." He kissed her mouth softly. His tongue whisked across her lower lip so lightly and fleetingly, she wasn't sure she hadn't imagined it. As he stepped into the night he took Roxy's arm. "Come on, Roxy sweet, I'll walk you home."

  Jenny closed the door after them. Cage was going home with Roxy. They would no doubt pick up the party where they'd left off. Images of them together, their mouths sealed, their bodies entwined, flickered through her mind. Miserable, she lay in her new bed for a long time, unable to fall asleep. She was tormented by the thought of Cage with Roxy. Cage with anybody.

  It was very late when she heard the Corvette start up where it was still parked outside her door and drive away.

  The next day was Saturday, so there was no rush about getting up and going to work. Jenny stripped the sheets off the bed, having already decided before Roxy mentioned it that they would be more comfortable to sleep on after they'd been washed.

  Still wearing her robe, she brewed herself a pot of coffee in her new coffeemaker, which had been only one of a hundred items she and Cage had purchased in the housewares depart­ment the day before.

  She was lifting the first cup to her lips when someone knocked on the door. Peering out the window first to see who it was, she sagged against the wall dispiritedly. She wasn't up to facing Roxy so soon after last night.

  "Hi," Roxy said gaily when Jenny opened the door no more than a discouraging crack. "I didn't wake you up, did I?"

  "No."

  "Good. Cage would have killed me. Listen, I just made this yummy pastry. It's too much for me to eat alone, and if I don't share it, that's exactly what I'll do." She slapped her generous hip. "Then I'll live to regret it."

  It would have been ungracious not to invite her in, so Jenny stepped aside, manufactured a smile of sorts, and said, "Come on in. I just made coffee."

  "Great." Roxy set her foil-wrapped package on the new butcher block table and eased herself into one of the bentwood chairs. "You have terrific taste," she commented, glancing around the apartment. "I really like your stuff."

  "Thank you, but Cage helped me pick it out."

  "He's got terrific taste, too." She winked, but Jenny wasn't sure what the wink was supposed to mean. She concentrated on pouring Roxy a cup of coffee. "Cream and sugar?"

  "Black with Sweet 'n Low … the chubby one says as she slices the gooey dessert," Roxy said, mocking herself as she peeled back the foil. "Got a knife and two plates?"

  When the pastry had been sliced and Jenny's portion passed to her, she said politely, "This looks good."

  "Doesn't it? I got the recipe out of a magazine." Roxy dug into hers. Jenny was more reserved but found the pastry to be delicious. "Did you need me to help you with anything today, like carrying those linens to the laundry room?" Roxy asked her between bites.

  "No, thank you."

  "Sure? I'm free."

  "I can manage."

  "Want another slice?" Roxy said, holding the knife poised over the dessert.

  "No, thank you. I appreciate your bringing it, though."

  Roxy dropped the knife and placed her forearms on the table. She stared at Jenny with disconcertingly candid brown eyes. "You don't like me, do you?"

  Jenny was taken aback. All her life she had avoided con­frontations and she couldn't believe she was being forced into this one. She opened her mouth to deny the allegation as dip­lomatically as she could, but Roxy forestalled her.

  "Don't bother denying it. I know you don't and I know why. Because I've slept with Cage."

  The color that surged to Jenny's cheeks and the way her eyes fell away from Roxy's were as good as an admission of guilt. Roxy leaned back in her chair. "Well, save your hostility and cut the cool politeness. The truth of it is, I've never been to bed with Cage. Surprised?" she asked when she read the incredulous expression on Jenny's face.

  "Most folks would be." Roxy laughed. "Well, it wasn't for lack of wanting to, or even for lack of opportunity," she said ruefully. "Cage is a very sexy guy. A woman would have to be dead not to wonder what it's like to ride that stallion."

  Jenny swallowed hard.

  "Did Cage tell you how we met?" Jenny shook her head. "Wanna know?" She took Jenny's silence for consent.

  "It was at a dance after a rodeo. My husband … did you know I'd been married?" Again Jenny shook her head speechlessly. "Well, I was. That night my husband was in a bad mood because he couldn't stay on some damn Brahman bull and lost the prize money to another guy. Anyhow, he took it out on me as he always did. Nearly beat me to death."

  "He hit you?"

  Roxy chuckled at Jenny's innocence. "Yeah, lots of times. Only, that night he was really drunk and got a little carried away. Cage heard me screaming out in the parking lot where Todd—that's his name—had dragged me. Cage beat the hell out of Todd and told him if he ever did that to me again he could expect another going over."

  She dipped her finger into the slice of dessert left on her plate and licked the cream cheese off. "This had gone on for years. Todd would get mad, get drunk, get jealous, and beat up on me. But I loved the guy, you know? Besides, I had no one else. No
where to go. No money to get there if there was."

  "Your parents?"

  "My mama died when I was ten. Daddy was a roughneck. He dragged me from one oil field to another. When I got married at sixteen, he felt like he'd done his last fatherly duty and hightailed it to Alaska. Haven't heard from the lousy bas­tard since. So I was stuck with Todd.

  "One night he got so mad, I thought he was going to kill me. He had threatened to before, but this time I think he meant it. Cage had given me his telephone number. I called and he came to get me. He took me to the hospital and paid the bill for having me fixed up. I stayed at his house for over a month after that. That's when folks started saying we were shacking up." She laughed harshly. "I wouldn't have been much fun in the sack. I was busted up real good.

  "Todd was furious. He accused us of carrying on behind his back for months, which wasn't true. He drove to Mexico and got a divorce. That was fine with me. Only, then I really had nothing, and I knew I couldn't go on living at Cage's place.

  "Cage talked some of his buddies into going partners with him and buying this apartment complex. He installed me as the manager. I get the apartment, plus a salary."

  Jenny was transfixed by the tale. She read the newspapers, she watched television. She knew this sort of melodrama went on. She had just never known anyone who had actually ex­perienced that kind of life.

  Roxy met her stare levelly. "Cage is the best friend I've ever had. He was the first person in my whole life to care anything about me. I owe him everything, even my life."

  She leaned forward across the table. "If he'd asked me to pay him back in bed, I would have. And probably would have loved every minute of it." She lowered her voice for empha­sis. "But he never did, Jenny. I think he knew all along what I came to realize. If we'd become lovers, it would have messed up the friendship. And we both valued that more than getting laid." Her hand reached out to cover Jenny's. "You don't have to be jealous of me."

  After long moments of looking at each other, Jenny lowered her gaze. "You misunderstand. Cage and I don't have … we aren't … it's not…"