by Sandra Brown
Had he tried to force her to kiss him, she could have resisted. But it was that mocking dare that struck a chord. She couldn't walk away from it. Her temper had reached a boiling point. Obviously she couldn't fight him physically and win, but she could get the better of him some other way. She would show him that she didn't succumb to his charm like every other woman he met. She'd show him that she wasn't susceptible to his sexuality.
Her eyes narrowed and resembled glowing coals as she raised her arms and cradled his head between her palms. She hesitated a moment, but when be cocked an eyebrow in a questioning arch, she continued with strengthened resolve. This was still a game to him.
She touched his lips lightly with hers. He didn't respond, surrendering all initiative to her. She nibbled at the corners of his lips just under the mustache. She felt his slight shiver, which goaded her on. She was getting to him.
Her tongue outlined his lips until they finally parted. Before reason or common sense could deter her, she thrust her pink tongue between his teeth. She assured herself that it was only a conditioned response and not an electric thrill of shock that made her hands clasp his head more tightly and bring it down closer to hers. It was only a physical reaction and not an emotional necessity that brought her body against his till her breasts were flattened against his broad chest.
She moved her head and searched his mouth with her darting tongue, tasting the essence of him and savoring the flavor. Still he hadn't brought his arms around her. He was acquiescent, but nonparticipating.
Lauri's senses were reeling. She had accepted his dare but was fighting not to become the victim of her own strategy. Thus far she hadn't broken him. It was her blood that was racing; his head wasn't pounding with the tempo and vibrancy of a drum's. A throbbing heaviness in the center of her body evidenced all too clearly that she was a woman responding to a man.
She couldn't let him know. She must bring him to a response and conceal her own. The cause would forever be lost if she didn't win this battle.
Her lips continued to tease his mouth, before moving to his chin and neck. Her hand shyly slipped down and investigated the triangle at the base of his throat. Curiously she explored the crisp hair on his chest. Putting down all self-consciousness and averring that her actions were generated by a will to win – and not a deep longing to touch him – she slipped her hand inside his shirt and smoothed her fingers over the muscles under that mat of dark hair.
His breath quickened, and she heard a faint hiss of anguish. Good! she thought. It's working. Not believing her temerity, she trailed her lips to that hollow in his neck that her fingers knew well and explored it leisurely with her mouth. Her hand found the hard, brown button of flesh nestled in the curling hair on his chest and worried it with playful fingers.
A low animal moan was emitted from his throat a heartbeat before his arms came around her and crushed her to him with a ferocity that was staggering. Her arms twined around his neck as his mouth fastened on hers. Their bodies molded together.
His tongue plunged into her mouth and claimed ownership, banishing any objections that might suggest otherwise. Gone was the need to prove indifference. Lauri knew the game was over, and she was willing to admit defeat if Drake would continue kissing her this way. She would gladly suffocate under his heavenly assault.
It was Jennifer who brought them back to reality. She had been playing with her new toys from John when she noticed that her daddy and Lauri were kissing. She stood up and tugged on Drake's pant leg, vying for attention and wanting to join this fun new game.
He pulled away from Lauri and stared at her for long moments. His eyes were clouded with desire, and she realized then that the victory belonged to neither of them. He had been as disturbed and aroused by her kiss as she had come to be by his.
Jennifer refused to be ignored and made a stronger protest over being neglected. Drake tore his gaze from Lauri and reached down to pick up the offended child.
"Who is this? Who is this that keeps pestering me, huh?" Drake asked playfully, and tickled Jennifer on the stomach. She reached one chubby arm around his neck and the other around Lauri's and brought all three heads together for a smacking kiss. She let out a peal of laughter and then pulled them all together again. This kissing ceremony was repeated several times until they were all laughing.
"I think school's out for today, don't you?" Drake asked Lauri over Jennifer's blond curls. "That car is costing me money to leave it parked outside. Why don't we drive into Albuquerque and turn it in at the car-rental office? We'll eat dinner somewhere and drive back. Do you think Jennifer can stand the trip?"
"Sure. She needs the break anyway. What should I wear?" She asked because she didn't know if she should go in jeans and expect hamburgers for dinner or dress up in preparation for some fancier restaurant.
His eyes traveled down her body and back up again. "I couldn't care less," he drawled. His eyes said that he'd just as soon she didn't wear anything.
Despite the passion she had displayed only moments before, Lauri blushed hotly and gathered Jennifer in her own arms. "We'll be ready in half an hour," she said quickly, and hastened upstairs.
* * *
Chapter 8
«^»
The day turned into a pleasant diversion for them all. Jennifer rode with Drake in the rental car while Lauri followed them in the Mercedes.
She was grateful for the solitude. She had time to sort out her turbulent thoughts. It was dangerous for her and Drake to kiss as they had done earlier in the day. She had told him they shouldn't play with fire, yet they continued to do so.
A thousand times she reassured herself that nothing more would come of it than harmless kissing. But the kissing wasn't harmless, and she knew it. She honestly didn't know how long she could hold Drake at bay or if she wanted to. Should they have an affair, it would mean she couldn't continue teaching Jennifer. That would be a grievous situation for all of them, especially the child. She would be the innocent victim of the behavior of two adults who should know better than to jeopardize her future this way.
In the quiet privacy of the Mercedes that glided over the mountain roads toward the city, it was easy for her to vow never to be drawn again into the circle of Drake's arms. With determination she could resist the persuasion of his hands and lips. It was only a matter of discipline, and Lauri Parrish had always prided herself in possessing that virtue.
She'd not let Drake touch her again. Her decision was made.
And it meant absolutely nothing.
The moment they arrived at their destination, he walked up to the car and helped her alight. His extended hand was accepted without hesitation, and she brushed against him as they walked, anxious to feel the hard, lean strength of his body next to hers.
The matter of the car was settled with dispatch. They did some shopping in Albuquerque's most exclusive stores. Drake bought Jennifer a bright blue ski jacket, which Lauri said was outlandishly expensive. He only shrugged off her objections. Jennifer wanted to wear it home, but though it was a chilly autumn day, Lauri explained that the new coat would be much too warm. The child conceded to have it packed in a box when Drake bought her a cardigan sweater with a fur-trimmed hood.
As usual, the salesladies were flustered and clumsily over-attentive while waiting on them. Customers in the store stopped their own shopping to stare in a way that made Lauri terribly self-conscious.
Several of the women glared at her in open envy. Their expressions were full of speculation and hostility. Drake didn't help her uneasiness. He constantly asked her opinion and treated her with a familiarity that was indicting.
Lauri felt immense gratification for one thing: Drake spoke in sign to Jennifer without embarrassment or apology. He seemed totally unaffected by his fans seeing him with his handicapped daughter.
Lauri had compromised; her outfit was neither too casual nor too dressy. She had wore a light brown wool skirt and a jade silk blouse. When they got out of the car to go into the restaura
nt, she decided it was cool enough to put on her off-white wool blazer.
Drake held it for her as she slipped it on, and he kept a proprietary arm around her shoulders as they walked into the restaurant. Lauri thought they made an attractive family unit as the maitre d' seated them, then immediately chided herself for the fanciful thought. She knew what Drake's feelings were; he had made his intentions clear. He would enjoy a physical relationship, but his heart would always belong to Susan.
On the drive home Jennifer became sleepy and rested her head on Laud's lap. Bunny, her constant companion, had been brought along, and he was snuggled under her arm.
Drake reached toward the radio dial and found a soothing FM station. His hand came back to rest on Jennifer's soft curls, and he patted her head for several minutes until he knew she was in a sound sleep.
Lauri had expected him to return his hand to the steering wheel, and her heart lurched when he settled his hand on her thigh, behind Jennifer's head. He squeezed Lauri gently. She looked at the twilight-soft scenery outside, at the lighted dashboard of the car, at the sleeping child in her lap – anywhere but at the man beside her.
Of their own volition her eyes traversed the interior of the car and looked at Drake's perfect profile. He seemed to sense her eyes on him and turned his head to meet her gaze. He saw the warmth that radiated from her amber eyes and smiled tenderly.
His hand moved up her thigh and touched her with an intimacy that melted resolutions and obliterated caution. His hand remained where it was until the lights of Whispers came into view, and he had to place both hands on the steering wheel to negotiate safely the curving, hilly streets.
* * *
They had no trouble getting Jennifer to go to bed. She drowsily submitted while Lauri undressed her and tucked her into bed. After the ritual of prayers and kisses Drake turned out the light in her room.
"Would you enjoy a fire in the fireplace tonight?" he asked as they stood in the hallway.
"That sounds very nice. I could stand to unwind for a while before I go to bed. It's been a long day."
"Anything I can do to help you relax?" he asked with an insinuating grin.
"You're incorrigible," Lauri scolded, but she was smiling. "I'm going to take a bath and then I'll join you downstairs."
"By that time I'll have a roaring fire going. I was a Boy Scout, you know."
"You? Impossible!" she said teasingly just before she shut the door to the bedroom and robbed him of an opportunity to retort.
After her bath Lauri wrapped herself in a warm flannel robe and knotted the belt at her waist. The peach color was flattering to her hair and complexion, and the satin lapels added a luster to the skin on her throat.
Living with Drake for the past few days had rid her of some of her initial modesty. She no longer skittered around seeking cover if he should catch her in her robe or without makeup. A certain degree of familiarity had developed between them. Quite unselfconsciously she went downstairs, pulling a hairbrush through the auburn strands still damp from her bath.
She crossed the living room and drew the drapes. Automatically reaching for the lamp, she was halted by Drake's voice. "Can we leave the lights off? The firelight is enough."
He was coming from the kitchen, carrying two wineglasses and a bottle of white wine in a cooler. The haunting melody of a ballad sung by Johnny Mathis was emanating from the stereo system in the bookcase. True to his word, Drake had a cheerful fire burning brightly.
"It is relaxing this way," Lauri said nervously. Relaxing and seductive, she thought warily. Drake had changed out of his slacks and sport coat and put on a pair of old faded jeans and a white turtleneck sweater.
Lauri curled up in one corner of the sofa facing the fireplace. Drake sat the wine cooler and the two glasses on the coffee table in front of her.
"Will you drink one glass of wine with me?" he asked as he sat down beside her.
"I—"
"Please. One glass? It will do you good."
Since he was pouring it anyway, Lauri said, "All right. One glass." Their fingers made brief contact when he handed her the wine. She sipped at it tentatively. He was watching her closely. Diverting her eyes from his unsettling stare, she looked at the fire on the other side of the hearth. "It's a lovely fire, Drake. Thank you for thinking of it."
"My pleasure. Except the exertion of building it has made me too warm to enjoy it. Do you mind?" Before she could respond either positively or negatively, he pulled the white sweater over his head.
She had seen him shirtless many times in the past days, but the sight of his broad, furred chest always made her heart do a strange erratic dance. His chest tapered over the ridges of his ribs to a flat, taut stomach.
The jeans were snapped closed two inches below his navel. Lauri's throat constricted when she saw the distinct shape of his masculinity under the tight, soft fabric of the pants. She took another quick sip of wine.
"You smell good," he said, leaning toward her slightly. He didn't touch her, but brought his face to within a breath of her neck. "What is that?"
"I – It—" Lauri couldn't manage the words. She swallowed and tried again. "It's nothing special or expensive. I buy it at the drugstore."
"No apology is necessary, I assure you. It's doing its job."
His words – or was it the nearness of his body? – had an impact on her that she felt to her toes. With a trembling hand she ran the brush through her hair one last time and laid it on the coffee table. Already she could feel the effects of the wine, though she had drunk no more than half her glass. She took one last sip and returned the glass to the table. When she leaned back onto the sofa, Drake had moved much closer to her.
She turned toward him and saw that he was moving his eyes over her hair. "It's beautiful," he whispered.
"In the firelight, it's even lovelier than usual." He placed his hand on the top of her head and smoothed it down over the gilded hair to her shoulders.
The firelight cast deep shadows on his features. His eyes were almost obscured under the thick brows, but Lauri knew that they were searching her face. She could imagine that they had touched her when she felt them lingering on her mouth. Drake dipped his index finger in his wineglass and brought it to her lips. He painted her mouth with the golden liquid, moving slowly over her upper lip then the lower one. Under the gentle pressure of his finger, they opened.
He lowered his head and took her lips under his, sipping at the wine, then melding his mouth to hers in a heart-stopping kiss that left her shaky and breathless.
"You're more delicious than the wine. And twice as intoxicating," Drake breathed when he finally pulled away from her. He set his glass next to hers on the table. She expected him to turn back to her and take her in his arms.
Instead, he lay on his back on the couch, stretched out his full length, and settled his head in her lap. He lifted an unresisting hand, kissed the palm intimately, and pressed it on his stomach, covering it with his own hand.
"This must be Heaven," he said, staring up at her. "The view from here is not to be surpassed." His eyes twinkled as they scanned her breasts, outlined clearly under the clinging fabric of her robe. He laughed when Lauri blushed. Then he sighed deeply, contentedly. "I love this place, don't you, Lauri?" She was surprised at the sudden seriousness in his voice.
"Whispers? Yes, it's wonderful. I'll confess that I thought you'd be well on your way back to New York by now though."
"Sometimes I miss the lights and cameras. I'd be lying if I said I didn't. But I really dread returning to the life and loves of Doctor Glen Hambrick. I didn't ever really want that job in the first place."
"You didn't?"
The astonishment must have been apparent in her voice because he opened his eyes, which had been closed, and answered. "No, I didn't."
"Then why— How?" she stammered.
"Susan talked me into going to the audition." Lauri reacted instantly when he said his wife's name, but it hadn't seemed to pain him as it
had done in the past.
"I was what they were looking for," he continued. "I kissed this actress who at that time was the leading lady on the show. They thought we looked good together. I had the part before I knew it."
"What did you want to do, Drake?"
"I had the usual goal of every serious aspiring actor – to do legitimate theater. More than acting, though, I wanted to direct. However, after a few years in New York, I found out that one has to pay rent, and eat, and things like that," he laughed bitterly. "I had to work when I could, and not attend the classes I needed."
Absently Lauri stroked the silver-brown hair with her fingers. It was so right that his head be resting in her lap and they be enjoying this peaceful interlude. "Where is your home, Drake? Do you have a family?" It was strange that he had never mentioned anything about his background.
"I grew up in Illinois. See, I'm from the Midwest just like you are." He moved his head to look up at her and the heavy pressure against her thighs sent a thrill of pleasure through her. "My father was a successful insurance man, though we were never rich. He died when I was still in high school. Mother died two years ago. I have a brother who is a defense attorney. I guess in his own way he's an actor too." He chuckled. "After two years in a liberal arts college, I went to New York, graduated from the American Academy of Dramatic Arts, and then started making every audition I could, hoping to find work."
"I've seen A Chorus Line. I don't think I could go through something like that too many times and retain my sanity," Lauri commented.
He laughed. "I don't think anyone with any sanity would put themselves through it. It's a devastating experience. I remember when I auditioned for the part of Danny in Grease. I was convinced I was perfect for the part. For weeks I walked around in a black leather jacket. I talked rough and dangled a cigarette from my lips. At the audition when they asked me to sing and dance, I humiliated myself. I knew then that musical comedy wasn't ever going to be my bag. But they wouldn't even let me audition for one of the kids in the crowd scenes. They said my hair looked silver under the lights and they didn't need any old men. I promised to dye it black if they'd let me have a walk-on part of any kind. No soap."