by Diana Palmer
She realized that, of course she did. But they were in a world of their own just for these few minutes, and she was wildly, excitingly curious about him. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons until she had them open halfway down his chest. He didn’t bother with undershirts apparently, and she smiled when she saw the broad expanse of hair-roughened skin.
His chest was rising and falling with his ragged breathing. She slid her fingers under the edges of the shirt and let him go rigid. She touched the hard muscles slowly, caressingly.
He muttered something faintly violent, and all at once his hands went to the back zipper of her dress and slid it down to her waist.
“Cameron…!” she cried in a wild little whisper.
“I have to,” he ground out, bending to her mouth. “Help me,” he whispered against it. “I think I might die if I can’t feel you against me this way!”
His mouth was making a slave of hers, and she was helpless to stop his practiced hands from pulling the dress to her waist. He brought her inside his shirt, groaning when he felt her bare skin uniting with his own, soft pink flesh melting into bronzed muscle.
Her throat ached with the tiny cry she made, and her hands lifted to his thick dark hair, tangling in it, holding her mouth to his as his body rippled against hers. She felt his hands move to her sides, caressing her in slow, bold sweeps that eventually led him to her high, taut breasts. She moved back a little, just enough to let his hands find her, and she moaned harshly at the unfamiliar, unexpected pleasure of letting him explore her so intimately.
He lifted his head to look at her while his thumbs rubbed with maddening leisure against the hard nubs. “You’re exquisite, Merlyn,” he whispered. “Magic and madness and silk to touch. And if there was a lock on this door, I’d have you right here on the floor, you know that, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she whispered, aching for that, aching for him. She wanted him with a shocking madness, blind to sense and reason. She was feeling sensations she’d never even dreamed of, and he was pleasing her in incredible ways. “Kiss me again,” she begged.
“I wouldn’t dare,” he whispered back, his eyes fixed on the sight of her pale flesh against the dark skin of his hands where he was touching her. “My God, you’re everything a man could want.”
The sudden sound of a voice froze them both. Cameron scowled, glancing toward the closed door in slow motion. All at once, he seemed to realize that the sound was coming nearer. He let her go and stood there like some exquisitely masculine conqueror—his shirt undone, his hair mussed and his eyes blazing with frustrated passion. He was the handsomest man she’d ever seen.
“Pull that up,” he growled, staring pointedly at her bodice.
Belatedly, she jerked it up and fumbled behind her for the zipper. Someone was at the door now—drunk from the sound of his voice—and the doorknob started to turn.
Cameron grabbed it and held it. “What do you want?” he asked curtly.
There was a pregnant pause. “What…do I want?” the voice mumbled.
Cameron’s eyes twinkled. “That’s right. What do you want?”
“My raincoat!” came the belligerent reply. “It’s raining cats and dogs again, just like when I got here!”
“What color is it?” Cameron continued.
“Uh…brown.”
He turned, glancing down the row of coats. “There are a lot of brown raincoats in here. What does it look like?”
“If you’ll let me open the door,” the slurred voice said, “I’ll show you.”
“Can’t do that,” Cameron said, glancing down at his own untidiness. “You describe it.”
Merlyn had her face in her hands, trying desperately not to giggle.
The voice sounded affronted. “Of all the silly…all right, it’s got epaulets and one of them is half off, and it’s…it’s a trench coat.”
Cameron riffled through the coats and found the right one. He grinned as he took it off the hook, opened the door slightly, and flung it out, closing the door quickly again.
“Thash it!” the drunk chuckled. “Say, are you one of those automated closets?”
“You got it,” Cameron agreed, holding the door shut. “Just installed. Brand new.”
“Well, you work real good. I saw a talking Coke machine once. Say, you got any Cokes in there?”
“Fresh out. Sorry.”
“Do you sing jingles?”
Cameron looked hunted. “Buzz off.”
“Machines aren’t supposed to be rude,” the voice replied. “I’m going to report you.”
“To whom?” Cameron asked politely.
There was a long silence.
Cameron glanced at Merlyn. “Why don’t you report me to Mrs. Thorpe?” he suggested.
“Good idea!” There was the sound of footsteps receding. Cameron rushed to button up his shirt and vest and dinner jacket.
“Your hair,” Merlyn said.
“Yours is just as bad,” he murmured, looking down at her. “Well, there’s nothing to be done about it now.”
“No, I don’t suppose so.” She felt terribly shy with him now, self-conscious. She couldn’t even lift her eyes as he opened the closet door. She brushed past him and made a wild dash up the stairs toward the bedrooms before anyone could see her.
As she made it out of sight, she could hear a voice muttering, “It did so talk! Come with me, I’ll show you!”
She barely made it into the privacy of her bedroom before she burst out laughing.
It was several minutes before she felt calm enough to go back to the party. Her knees were still a little shaky, but her logical mind had forced her to see the disastrous path she was walking. Getting involved with Cameron Thorpe would bring nothing but heartache. He wanted her. But probably he was a passionate man who was capable of wanting any woman. Besides, there was Delle, whom he planned to marry. She had to remember that he might dally with a pretty girl, but he wasn’t about to ruin his chances of marrying an heiress. Especially not with a woman he thought was a penniless historian. That was almost funny. But she wasn’t laughing. What she’d felt in that closet had never happened before. And as she considered him with Delle, she colored and felt sick and empty. She hated the very thought of them together. But when she left her bedroom, at least she had her contrary heart under some measure of control.
Chapter Six
The first person Merlyn ran into when she walked back into the spacious living room was Mrs. Radner. The older woman’s eyes glittered unpleasantly, revealing her assumed smile to be as false as her geniality.
“There you are, Miss Forrest,” she said, her chin lifting superciliously as she joined the younger woman. “I wondered where you’d gone. Cameron seemed to vanish at the same time, oddly enough.”
Well, there was no better way to play it than with innocence, Merlyn decided. She smiled coolly. “Did he?” she asked. “How strange. I didn’t see him.”
Merlyn’s poised self-assurance seemed to stun the other woman. “But you left the room together,” she insisted.
“Did we? I didn’t notice.” Merlyn sighed. “I was so desperate to get to my room.…” She smiled demurely.
“Oh.” Mrs. Radner followed her lead, obviously getting the fake message loud and clear.
“Mr. Thorpe would hardly follow me, you know,” Merlyn volunteered. “After all, I’m only the hired help.”
Mrs. Radner nodded graciously. “Of course, my dear. There’s Cameron now, dancing with Delle.” She sighed, complacent now. “Don’t they go well together? I’ve always adored contrasts.”
They were a contrast all right. Cameron was dark, and Delle was fair. They made a handsome couple at first glance. But their steps didn’t seem to match, and his arm was far too loose around his fiancée’s waist. Added to that, Merlyn thought with helpless satisfaction, he still looked frustrated.
“Hello, dear, I lost you,” Lila said, joining them. “We very nearly had a problem a moment ago.”
“We did?�
�� Merlyn asked.
“Yes.” Lila frowned. “Some rather intoxicated gentleman kept insisting that the closet was automated and spoke to him.” She stared at Merlyn. “Do you suppose he was having a religious experience?”
It was a credit to Merlyn’s early training that she didn’t drop to the floor and roll over with laughter. She managed to keep a straight face. “I hardly think so,” she replied. “I’ve heard that heavy drinkers sometimes have hallucinations. Isn’t that so, Mrs. Radner?” she asked with polite deference.
“I’m sure I wouldn’t know,” Mrs. Radner replied indignantly.
“Anyway,” Lila concluded, “he’s gone home, thank goodness. It was rather embarrassing, the way he kept dragging people into the hall to hear my closet talk.”
Merlyn murmured something appropriate and escaped to the punch bowl. The band was just starting into a slow, easy tune when she noticed her friend Dick Langley leaving the group and making his way toward her. His blue eyes twinkled as he grinned down at her.
“How about a dance? One of the guests plays drums as a hobby and asked to sit in. It was truly my pleasure.” He held out his arms.
She put down the glass of punch she’d poured and let Dick sweep her out on the dance floor. “We haven’t danced together since the charity ball last spring,” she murmured.
“No. I’ve been busy lately. What in the world are you doing here?” He glanced around. “My God, your father could buy and sell anyone here. Why are you hanging out with this bunch?”
“I’m researching for Lila Thorpe,” she said with a grin. “And having a ball irritating her son. That’s him over there with the ravishing blonde.”
“She may be ravishing, but her vocabulary is limited to yes, no, and oh, my! And she seems to have a great fear of mussing her hair or makeup.” He chuckled at Merlyn’s puzzled look. “I asked her to dance a few minutes ago. Just after you vanished with the big man.”
“He was showing me his etchings,” she said.
“I bet he was showing you a lot more than that,” he murmured dryly, “if the expression on his face when he came back was any indication. His girlfriend positively glared at him.”
“I didn’t think she knew how,” Merlyn said contemptuously.
“Meow.”
She sighed. “I can’t help it. She’s either hopelessly naive or shrewdly vicious. I haven’t decided which. She made a nasty remark about Grandmother’s pearls.”
“The Forrest pearls,” he murmured, glancing down at them. “They suit you!”
“They suited her, too.” She smiled. “I was just a little girl when she died, but I still remember how she used to make her grand entrance, always in some snowy white gown, wearing these pearls and carrying a colorful boa. She could have stopped traffic with her black hair and her blue eyes.…I miss her, Dick.”
“Yes, I know. So does your father.”
“Seen him lately?” she asked.
“Last week, in fact. He’s missing you. Something about a party that needs organizing, and he doesn’t trust Kitty to handle it.”
Kitty was her father’s secretary, a whiz with a computer but a total failure at organizing parties.
She smiled. “I’ll volunteer if I win the bet I’ve got going with him.”
“Bet?”
She ignored him. The thought of leaving was suddenly unpleasant, bet or no bet. And she only had a little over a week left. She’d grown very fond of Amanda and Lila. And him…
She shrugged. “A private joke,” she murmured with a smile. “Anyway, I don’t have much longer. Another week should do it,” she said.
“Suppose we get together some weekend? I’ll bring Bruce and Annie along and we’ll go sailing down to Nassau.”
“That sounds lovely.” She liked their friends Bruce and Annie, and Dick was good company. He never insisted on getting intimate. That was the nicest thing about him, that he could be just a friend.
“Uh-oh,” he sighed. “Time’s up. My friend’s losing his grip on the drumsticks.” He stopped dancing as the song ended, bowed and kissed her hand. “A bientôt, ma belle.”
“A bientôt, mon ami,” she returned with a smile.
He left her and as she turned back to Lila, she couldn’t help noticing Cameron’s killing glare. It filled her with mingled satisfaction and apprehension. Her eyes narrowed as they met his. He needn’t think he owned her because of one kiss, she thought angrily. Even if it was a kiss that led to much wilder explorations. She wasn’t going to supply what his sweet Delle couldn’t; she wasn’t going to spend her life hidden away in closets. Closets. She sighed and shook her head. That was desperation. And remembering the shared urgency that had driven them to it, she shuddered. She’d never felt such abandon in her life.
Somehow she wound up standing with Lila and Cameron and Delle, although she’d done her best to avoid it. She couldn’t help wondering if the Radners would go back to Atlanta that night.
“It’s simply been a lovely party, Cam,” Delle said. “I’m really sorry about our car breaking down, but you don’t mind having us for the night, do you?”
“Don’t be silly, of course not,” he said.
“Tell me about your friend Dick, Miss Forrest,” Delle asked suddenly. “You seemed to know each other very well.”
“Why, yes, we do,” Merlyn told her. “He took me to my senior prom. A wonderful man. Very masculine.”
“Is he a professional musician?” Delle asked with a mocking smile. “I’ve never met a real one before. Mother doesn’t like me to associate with those kinds of people.”
Merlyn almost went into gales of laughter, thinking about Dick’s wealth. But she restrained herself. “He’s very good, don’t you think? And so good-looking,” she sighed, noticing Cameron’s dark glare out of the corner of her eye.
Mrs. Radner joined the small group, looking restless and perturbed. “Cameron, dear, was it necessary to invite so many people? I’m still searching for a familiar face.”
What she really meant was that there were very few of “her class” around. Merlyn grinned. She’d noticed that Lila had invited several friends who weren’t on the social register, and she admired her for her democratic spirit.
“You might enjoy meeting some new ones,” Lila said pointedly. “Money doesn’t necessarily ensure intelligence or talent, my dear.”
“No, but it does usually ensure a measure of breeding,” Mrs. Radner said coolly. She glanced at Merlyn’s gown with a practiced eye. “I was just noticing your gown, Miss Forrest,” she said with a faint smile. “Last year’s, isn’t it?”
“No.” Merlyn smiled. “It’s this year’s. Dick brought it for me.”
Mrs. Radner’s face closed up, as if any woman who allowed a man to bring her such a dress could only be one thing.
“Cameron, you really must get to know Dick,” Delle murmured wickedly. “Perhaps he could show you where to get one for me.”
Merlyn could have mentioned that it came from her home, but she wasn’t going to give the show away this early. She glanced at Cameron’s black scowl and decided that it might be wise for her to leave the premises for the rest of the evening. Sooner or later, the guests would leave, and Delle, her mother and Lila would go to bed. She was afraid of finding herself at Cameron’s mercy a second time in one night. He was potent and she was all too vulnerable. And she didn’t want to become a notation on his page of easy conquests. She knew what he was thinking; she could see it in his eyes. Later, he was telling her, you and I have something to finish. But she wasn’t playing his game. Unfortunately, she’d given him the impression earlier that she was willing and easy, and it might prove difficult to convince him in time that she was neither. Getting away was the most logical move under the circumstances.
She excused herself, ignoring Delle’s provocative remark, and moved to the bandstand, where the band was just ending a number.
“Can I leave with you?” she asked Dick in a whisper.
“Sure. In trouble?
” he asked.
She sighed and smiled. “Up to my dainty ears. And make it seem blatantly clear why we’re going, could you?”
His eyes twinkled. “Got you.”
She kept well away from Cameron and the others until the party was over and the band started packing away instruments. Then she left with the band, clinging to Dick’s arm as they passed Lila.
“Good night,” Merlyn told her employer, as an angry Cameron came forward with a puzzled Delle in tow.
“Good night, my dear.” Lila grinned. “Have fun.”
“Let’s go, Dick,” Merlyn said quickly.
“I’ll bring her back before morning,” Dick said and pulled her close. “Good night, Mrs. Thorpe, Mr. Thorpe, ladies.” At his most charming, he bowed and closed the door behind them.
“Whew!” Merlyn sighed as she sat in the van with Dick, the other band members and all their equipment. “Talk about close calls!”
“What happened?” Dick asked.
“I had words with the master of the house,” she lied. Well, it was almost the truth.
“Odd,” he murmured, raising his eyebrows, “I didn’t think you saw him again after we danced.”
“I was just avoiding trouble,” she sighed, leaning heavily on his shoulder. The van was carpeted, thank goodness, so her dress wouldn’t suffer.
“Sorry about the transport. I left my Jag at Ray’s house. We’ll pick it up when we drop him off.”
She smiled. “It’s just as well. They’d have been suspicious if they’d seen it.”
“Don’t I look rich?” he asked pointedly.
“No. You look delightfully charming and debonair. But not rich.” She glanced up at him. “Do I? Look rich, I mean.”
“No. You look threatened.” He pulled her closer. “Did he make a pass, little buddy?”
“You see too much,” she grumbled.
“I’ve known you since grade school, of course I do. Come on, spill it.”
“Yes, he did. I’m still pretty raw after Adam,” she confessed. “And this very staid banker has his eye on an investment firm.”
“The blonde?”
“Her father owns the firm. He’d like to merge with it. By marrying her.” She moved her dark head restlessly. “Not for love, you understand. He doesn’t trust emotion since his disastrous first marriage, so he’s marrying for logical reasons this time. His poor little daughter! She doesn’t like the blonde at all.”
