"And you can cut that out, too!" he barked, starting to button the shirt hurriedly. "I'm not about to seduce you until I get my head straight. I've got to think."
Tamara watched in incredulous dismay as he stepped into his shoes, grabbed his jacket, and strode swiftly to the door. "I'm taking another room for the night," he said. "I'll meet you tomorrow in the lobby at eight." The door slammed behind him.
Tamara slowly sat up and automatically began fastening the remaining buttons on the satin robe. Her mind was in a turmoil as she tried to fathom Rex's violent reaction to her untouched state. She'd heard that some men didn't like to initiate an inexperienced woman, but she hadn't thought that Rex would be so prejudiced. There was a sharp ache that was beginning to pierce the confusion that beset her. Being made love to by Rex was like being on a thrilling roller-coaster ride, but it had suddenly plunged off the track into emptiness.
It had all been so beautiful, she thought miserably. Her hand brushed against the delicate blossoms that had been crushed between their eager bodies. Such a touching gesture, and so like the extravagant boy- man that was Rex Brody. She picked up the jasmine, remembering tenderly the lovely meanings Rex had intoned as he had cast the various blooms over her like a scented, velvet blanket.
She sniffed the jasmine's delicate fragrance and suddenly felt a stabbing pain run through her as she realized why Rex had left. Her hand went lifeless and the flower fluttered onto her lap as once more the tears began to fall. He'd said making love to her was a "responsibility," but she hadn't understood. She'd taken the statement at face value and thought he just didn't want to risk hurting her in any way. But of course that wasn't the real reason at all. He'd thought she would look upon the yielding of her virginity as a commitment, having no way to know that she'd already committed herself to him totally the moment she realized she loved him. He'd been horrified at even the possibility that she might become pregnant from their union tonight.
He'd made it crystal clear what he wanted from her and hadn't put love or affection on the list. That was why he'd left so abruptly when he'd thought he might get more than he bargained for. Rex wanted no complications in his relationship with her, and he'd been careful to tell her so in a language he'd known she'd understand.
Tamara lay back on the pillow, picking up the golden iris and cradling it against her tear-washed cheek.
A jasmine for sensuality, an orchid for beauty, but no red rose for love. No red roses.
Nine
Promptly at eight the next morning she met Rex in the lobby of the hotel. He greeted her tersely and escorted her directly to the car, and they got underway immediately. By the look of the shadows under his eyes he'd had just as little sleep as she, she thought with fleeting satisfaction.
She herself had not gotten to sleep until almost dawn, but the restless night had accomplished one thing. It had formed a hard shell against the hurt and humiliation of Rex's desertion, and even produced a bit of anger to bolster the pride that had been submerged beneath her love and pain.
She carelessly tossed into the back seat the neatly folded, cream satin bundle she'd been carrying. "It's really a lovely robe," she said coolly. "It's a pity I had nothing else to wear or you could get your money back."
He glared at her furiously. "You know damn well I don't want that back," he grated between clenched teeth. "It belongs to you."
"Then you might as well give it to Goodwill," she said. "I certainly don't want to see it again."
He glowered at her. "I see you're in your usual sweet good humor. I'd suggest you temper that sarcasm a bit. I had a helluva night and you'll find I'm as testy as a bear with a sore tooth."
He had a bad night! "I can't tell you how sorry that makes me," she retorted in a saccharine tone of voice.
His hands tightened on the steering wheel, and he gave the appearance of counting silently. "Look, I'd really prefer not to pull the car over and break that lovely neck of yours," he said in a conversational tone. "So will you please shut up!"
She gave him a lethal glare and turned huffily away to stare blindly out the window. There was an icy silence for the remainder of the trip.
When they arrived at the apartment, Tamara stalked regally to the guest room and slammed the door decisively. She leaned wearily against it for a moment before walking stiffly to the center of the room and unzipping the crimson gown. It looked sadly garish in the bright morning sunlight. She wished she could just climb into that lovely, turquoise-covered bed and bury her head beneath the covers, as she'd done when something had upset her as a small child.
Sometimes it was a wearisome task to act the civilized adult and do what was expected. At the moment she wanted nothing less than to change and show up at breakfast with Jenny Jason. She had an idea those wise gray eyes saw far too much, and Tamara felt infinitely vulnerable this morning.
Well, she couldn't offend a hostess as gracious and friendly as Jenny. She stripped quickly, ducked in and out of the shower in minutes, brushed her teeth, and slipped on tailored navy slacks and an Anne Klein silk blouse with navy trim that looked vaguely nautical. She restrained her hair in a knot
on the top of her head, and used a bit more makeup than usual to mask the violet shadows under her eyes.
Rex, Scotty, and Jenny Jason were already in the breakfast room when she arrived, and she slipped into the only vacant chair with a murmured, "Good morning."
Jenny smiled warmly. "You look fantastic in that outfit, Tamara. I wish I had your height. If I put on anything even faintly sailorish, I look like Popeye. Will you have coffee or hot chocolate?"
"Coffee, please," she answered, casting a wary glance at Brody and Oliver, who were engaged in a low-voiced exchange. She accepted the coffee Jenny handed her, added cream, and sipped the hot brew gingerly.
Jenny was gazing at her with eager silver eyes. "Look, Tamara, why don't you go with me to this Chamber of Commerce meeting? Then we can have lunch and maybe do some shopping later. I'd really like to get to know you better." She made a face at Rex. "He'll probably be rehearsing most of the afternoon, so it will be the perfect time."
"I'd like that," Tamara answered slowly. Not only would she like to get to know Jenny Jason, but the activity might keep her from brooding.
"Good!" Jenny said briskly. "Now let's get breakfast over with so we can get going." She gestured to the silver-covered trays on the table. "It's standard hotel fare, I'm afraid. When we moved to the ranch our cook, Mike Novacek, went with us." Her eyes twinkled. "He'd just married a Las Vegas showgirl and I think he was afraid to leave her here in temptation's way."
Oliver looked up abruptly, breaking off his conversation with Rex. "You received a letter yesterday in care of Rex," he said to Tamara, pulling an envelope out of his pocket. "I meant to give it to you, but I didn't get the chance."
"Thank you," Tamara said absently. "It must be from Aunt Elizabeth." But when she opened the envelope, there was an engraved invitation inside. A puzzled frown creased her brow and then she started to chuckle. "It's got to be some kind of joke," she murmured, shaking her head ruefully.
"What is it?" Jenny asked curiously, and even Rex looked up.
"I'm officially invited to be a guest of honor at a meeting of a witches' coven," Tamara said, grinning. "It's being held tonight at midnight in some ghost town by a local Las Vegas coven."
"How exciting!" Jenny exclaimed. "Which ghost town?"
Tamara looked down at the invitation. "Lucky Creek. What a peculiar name."
"I adore ghost towns," Jenny said dreamily. "We gave our first-anniversary party in a ghost town called Caleb's Gulch. It was a wonderful celebration, wasn't it, Rex?"
There was a glint of tenderness in Rex's eyes as he gazed at Jenny's glowing face. "It was a great party, mermaid. Steve really threw a wing-ding."
Tamara felt a twinge of envy at the gentleness in Rex's voice. It seemed a long time since she'd been the recipient of anything but scowls and sarcasm from him.
<
br /> She put down the invitation. "Well, it's obviously someone's idea of a practical joke," she said carelessly. She helped herself to a piece of toast from a serving tray.
"I'm not so sure," Jenny said thoughtfully. "I read somewhere that there are really hundreds of covens all over the country. Some of them are the real thing and some just play at it for kicks."
"But why me?"
"Why, that newspaper story, of course," Jenny answered promptly. "They must have seen your picture and decided you'd be a star attraction at their little affair."
Rex muttered something under his breath that sounded like a shocking obscenity.
"What newspaper story?" Tamara asked carefully.
"Haven't you seen it? I picked up a copy at a drugstore in San Francisco yesterday. I usually don't buy those scandal sheets, but I saw Rex's name and thought I'd see what was up." Jenny pushed back her chair. "I'll go get it."
Tamara glared at Rex and Oliver, who both looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I gather this is no surprise to either of you?" she asked.
Oliver shook his head. "We saw it day before yesterday. Rex decided it would just upset you so we didn't show it to you."
"How considerate of Rex," she said between clenched teeth.
"The article was already on the streets and there was nothing anyone could do about it," Rex said, scowling. "Your seeing it would have accomplished nothing."
Jenny came hurrying back and handed the paper to Tamara before resuming her seat. "The picture is rather good of you," she said cheerfully. "Of course, the story itself is pure hogwash."
Tamara scanned the story hurriedly. "Oh no," she moaned. The scandal sheet had made her out to be a sort of benevolent white witch, casting spells and drawing up horoscopes. She read on hurriedly. They'd even brought in Aunt Elizabeth's psychic reputation in Somerset. How had they found out about that?
"I've got to phone Aunt Elizabeth," she said, scrambling to her feet.
"There's an extension in the hall," Jenny told her.
There was no answer at Aunt Elizabeth's, which only increased her worry. When she resumed her seat at the breakfast table, she distractedly pushed back her plate. "There's no answer," she said briefly, as she picked up her coffee cup. "I'll have to try later."
"There were just three lines in the article about your aunt, Tamara," Rex reminded her softly. The gentleness she'd yearned for was in his eyes, but she was in no mood for it now.
"There wouldn't have been anything at all if you hadn't given out that crazy story," she said, glaring at him. "If you've hurt Aunt Elizabeth, I'll murder you, Rex Brody!"
"You're jumping to conclusions," he said, frowning. "You don't know if she's even seen it yet."
Jenny looked from one belligerent face to another and hastily rose to her feet. "If you don't want any more breakfast, Tamara, why don't we get on our way?" She turned to Rex. "If I don't see you before I leave for the ranch, break a leg tonight."
"Thanks, Jenny," he said, kissing her on the cheek. He turned a flinty stare on Tamara. "I'll see you at dinner," he said commandingly.
Before Tamara could form a fittingly indignant answer to this arrogance, Jenny had whisked her from the room. Five minutes later they'd left the apartment and were on their way down to the car park and Jenny's cream-colored Mercedes.
The next few hours cemented a friendship between the two women. After the brief civic meeting, Jenny took Tamara to her favorite tearoom for lunch. They became so involved in exploring their mutual interests and backgrounds they never did make the proposed shopping expedition.
After their third cup of coffee, Jenny leaned back in her chair and made a confession in her usual frank manner. "You know, I was quite prepared to detest you when Rex called and asked permission to bring a guest with him to stay at the apartment. He'd never brought a woman with him before, and after I saw that story in the newspaper I was sure some vamp had gotten her claws into him." She grinned sheepishly. "Rex is very special to Steve and me. That's the real reason I came back early from San Francisco. I wanted to protect him from your evil wiles."
Tamara shook her head. "Rex is quite able to take care of himself from what I've seen," she said dryly.
Jenny lifted a skeptical brow. "Rex has a soft streak where his friends are concerned. He's fantastically loyal; he'd walk on hot coals to help a friend. I thought perhaps you'd managed to tap that core of loyalty."
"Well, you needn't worry. I'm not about to try to shear your little lamb," Tamara replied. On the contrary, she thought miserably, she was the one that had been left unhappy and vulnerable by their relationship to date.
"Oh, I knew that the minute I saw your face when you caught me in Rex's arms yesterday," Jenny said serenely. "I never saw anyone so shocked or heartbroken. I was quite relieved." Her eyes grew serious as she continued. "The real reason I wanted to get you alone was I wanted to explain something about Rex. I couldn't help but notice you were at each other's throats this morning, and I know the reason is none of my business." She looked down at her coffee thoughtfully. "Sometimes Rex can be very defensive. He had a childhood that would have permanently scarred most people—a mother who drank herself to death when he was thirteen, a father who deserted him and left him to fend for himself on the streets. His Aunt Margaret is the only one who ever displayed any family affection for him, and she didn't appear on the scene until after his father died when Rex was sixteen. It's a wonder that Rex lets anyone close to him. I just wanted to ask you to try to be patient with him."
Tamara's lips twisted wryly. "At the moment that request borders on the impossible."
Jenny sighed. "Well, I tried." She changed the subject briskly. "Are you going to Rex's opening show tonight?"
Tamara's lips tightened and her violet eyes clouded stormily as she remembered Rex's dictatorial demand that she join him for dinner. "I most certainly am not," she said tersely.
Jenny eyed her shrewdly. "Nor are you going to show up for dinner." It was a statement, not a question.
Tamara shook her head.
"I didn't think so," Jenny said, her eyes dancing. "Rex was a bit autocratic. May I suggest an alternate plan for the evening?"
"Be my guest," Tamara answered promptly. There was no way she wanted to be alone today. Between worrying about Aunt Elizabeth, and her depression and annoyance with Rex, she needed Jenny's cheerful presence as a bulwark.
Jenny's silver eyes were eager with excitement as she leaned forward. "Let's go to Lucky Creek tonight."
Tamara stared in surprise. "To that kooky witches' coven? But that was just a practical joke."
"But what if it wasn't?" Jenny asked excitedly. "Wouldn't you like to get a peek at a real witches' coven? And ghost towns are fascinating places, Tamara. That alone would be worth the drive."
Tamara frowned doubtfully. "I don't know if I like the idea of surprising a bunch of weirdos in a deserted ghost town."
"Oh, we wouldn't let them see us. We'd just take a peek at what was going on and then leave."
Why not? Maybe it would be interesting, and Tamara couldn't find it in her heart to disappoint Jenny. The other woman's face was as radiant as that of a child expecting a birthday treat.
"What time do you think we should leave?" she asked indulgently.
"First we'll go back to the apartment and check the location of Lucky Creek and see how far it is,"
Jenny said briskly. "Steve gave me a map that lists all of Nevada's ghost towns."
The following hours flew by on wings supplied by one Jenny Jason, who proved a dynamo of activity. After discovering to her pleased surprise that Lucky Creek was only about fifteen miles from her ranch, she'd insisted on Tamara leaving with her immediately for her home and spending the evening there before they began their witch hunt. After Tamara complied with Jenny's imperious order that she change to jeans and a black shirt for their midnight jaunt, they set out for Jenny's ranch.
The Jason ranch house was a gem of a Spanish hacienda with
a rambling white stucco facade. Exquisite wrought iron grillwork fronted the windows and there was a beautiful courtyard, complete with a graceful fountain. The interior was just as lovely, furnished in beauty and comfort, but still retaining a warm, glowing hominess. Or perhaps the glow was provided by Jenny and the inhabitants of the gracious hacienda, Tamara thought, with a touch of wistfulness.
That evening she enjoyed a magnificent meal provided by Jenny's cook, Mike Novacek, who seemed to be more family than employee. She even met Mike's wife, Connie, a sandy-haired beauty with a superb figure and the warmth and gentleness that seemed to be inherent in the people living in this wonderful house. Connie was acting as nanny for Jenny's son, Sean, and was utterly besotted with the two-year-old pixie. Tamara could readily see why when she met the young heir. His golden hair, silver eyes, and smile that would melt an iceberg made her his immediate slave.
It was eleven-thirty when Tamara and Jenny left the ranch and almost midnight before they reached the outskirts of Lucky Creek. Tamara's apprehension had been growing by leaps and bounds during the drive.
As Jenny parked the Mercedes in a grove of cotton- woods a little distance from the town itself, Tamara ventured a tentative comment. "It looks deserted. Perhaps it was just a practical joke after all."
Jenny shook her head, her silver eyes shining with excitement as they searched the deserted streets and ramshackle wooden buildings for signs of life. "I'm sure it was legitimate. Don't be discouraged. A coven wouldn't exactly advertise its presence. It's not their style. We'll just have to do some reconnoitering until we find where they're meeting." She quickly jumped out of the car and set off briskly toward the main street of the ghost town.
Tamara followed more slowly, a wry smile curving her lips. Discouraged! She would have liked nothing better than to give up this little adventure and was fervently berating herself for the impulse that had led her to give in to Jenny's persuasions. This desolate and deserted place filled her with a nameless uneasiness. The dark, gaping windows seemed to be watching them as they made their way down the overgrown, rutted main street, and there was an odd aura of something waiting beyond those dark windows and boarded-up doors.
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