by Amii Lorin
She knew they had reached the bus when two bright lights, looking like the eyes of a huge monster, cut through the blackness that was the parking lot. Barely breathing, she watched those eyes move very, very slowly toward her. Suddenly those headlights blinded her, and with a small gasp she stepped back as the bus, looming out of the darkness, came directly at her. Then the lights arched away as the bus made a lurching swing and came to a stop parallel to the motel's entrance.
The moment the bus came to a halt Adam leaped agilely from the high step onto the now cleared area alongside which the vehicle had stopped. Ted was right behind him, keys dangling from his hand. The door of the storage compartment was opened, and the two men began hauling out the luggage.
"I think I'll go roust some of the men out of the bar to help," Liz declared in sudden decision. "Why should those two do all the work? Hell, Adam isn't even one of the passengers."
"Liz, wait," Jen's hand caught Liz's arm as she spun away. "If you go in there and call for assistance and they all troop out here, you're going to have nothing but mass confusion."
A rattling sound drew Jen's attention, and glancing across the lobby, she saw Bill Wakefield pushing a large luggage rack before him. Releasing Liz's arm, Jen walked to the doors, pushed through, then held it for Bill.
"Come on, Liz," she called. "If you and I help, we can have the bags loaded and inside in no time. Then you can call the others to the lobby to pick up their cases."
Jen didn't wait for a yes or no from Liz. Grabbing the front end of the rack, she guided it through the doors and over the cleared cement to the steadily growing pile of luggage. The night air was cold and damp, and Jen began shivering before she reached the pile of cases. Her teeth clenched together to keep them from chattering, she began stacking the cases onto the rack following Bill's directions, grinning at Liz who had followed her out.
Jen knew the bus was empty when the compartment door slammed shut. Five pairs of hands made short shrift of the job. Jen was reaching for one of the few remaining cases when strong, gloved hands grasped her shoulders, turning her to the doors.
"We'll finish up and bring it in," Adam said firmly. "You're cold—go inside. You too, Liz."
Although his tone was mild, it was an order. Without protest Jen and Liz obeyed. Standing inside the doors, Jen watched as the three men maneuvered the ungainly rack across the cement. She was shivering again, only now it was from the touch of those leather-covered hands, not the cold.
Clipboard in hand, Liz checked the tags on the bags against the names on her list as Jen and the men unloaded the rack in front of the reception desk. When the conveyance was once again empty and the cases lined up into neat rows, Ted straightened.
"Thanks," he stated simply, then, his tone lightening he asked, "How about having dinner together?"
"You're on," Liz said at once.
Jen, hesitating, glanced quickly at Adam, who nodded briefly at her before facing Ted.
"Sounds good." His gaze shifted back to Jen. "Jennifer?"
"Y-yes, of course," Jen agreed in a wavery voice. Why? Oh, why did the sound of her name on his lips unnerve her so?
"And I'll go and put a reserved sign on a good table for you," Bill said, heading for the dining room.
"Well," Liz sighed resignedly, "I guess I'll go call the thundering herd out of the bar." She started off, then glanced back. "Jen, would you go tell Lisa and Terry their bags are in the lobby?"
"Will do," Jen answered, reaching for her own bag.
Scooping her case from under her fingers, Adam said, "I'll take them. Which ones belong to the other two girls?"
Ignoring her protests, he clamped a case under one arm and picked up the other.
"What time should we meet for dinner?" Jen's eyes shifted from one to the other.
Ted shot a glance at his watch.
"Seven okay?" At Jen and Adam's nod, he added, "We can meet in the bar. I'll tell Liz."
As they walked up the stairs, Adam slanted Jen a teasing grin.
"I think there's something developing between Liz and Ted; I can feel the vibes."
"But he's married!" Jen exclaimed, shocked. "He told me he has a daughter."
"He's a widower," Adam corrected gently.
"But how do you kn—"
"I asked him, while we were in the bus, if he'd gotten a call through to his wife," Adam answered before she'd even finished asking. "He told me his wife was dead, but that he had reached his daughter."
"And do you really think there is something brewing between him and Liz?"
They had reached the room Jen was sharing with Lisa and Terry. Adam deposited the cases at the door before answering her question with one of his own.
"Haven't you seen the way they look at each other?"
"No." Jen shook her head.
"Well, I have." Adam's eyes stared straight into hers and the expression in them dried all the moisture in her mouth. When he spoke again she knew he was no longer talking about Liz and Ted.
"Every glance is a touch, a caress," he murmured. Turning away, he tacked on, "I'll see you at seven and— Jennifer—don't look so frightened."
CHAPTER 3
The hot, stinging spray from the shower overcame the chills that had attacked Jen's spine at Adam's parting words.
"Oh, glory," she groaned softly. "What is happening to me?"
The sound of her own voice, intensified by bouncing off the rust-colored tiles, startled her and brought her up short. Good grief! Now I'm talking to myself, she thought wearily. But, what is happening to me? Nothing like this had ever happened to her before.
Oh, sure, she had been attracted to other young men— as well as repelled—on first meeting. But this confusing clamor of emotions and senses, this all-over warm sensation while chills skipped down her spine, this scary, exciting desire to hear him say her name, to feel his eyes on her, was beyond understanding, beyond reason.
Jen dressed slowly and carefully in a room that was, finally, blessedly quiet. Lisa and Terry had left moments before, going down to the dining room to eat and, as Terry put it, "To check out the male prospects of the motel's inhabitants."
Thankfully, her breathless, flustered state on entering the room had been overlooked by the other two girls simply because she had kept her head down while dragging the cases inside. On seeing their luggage, both girls had jumped up with squeals of delight and began unpacking at once.
"I wonder if this is worth the effort," Lisa had mused, shaking out a frilly blouse before draping it carefully on a hanger. "Do you think there's any chance of going on to the resort tomorrow, Jen?"
"Well, it has stopped snowing, but"—Jen shook her head—"I doubt it. From what I could see of the parking lot, the snow looks pretty deep. I can't imagine what the roads are like."
"But suppose we unpack and they decide to go on tomorrow," Terry groaned. "We'll have to repack everything."
"I'm going to play it safe," Jen grinned. "I'm going to hang up the things that will crush and leave everything else in the case."
Lisa and Terry opted to do the same, and confusion reigned for several minutes as the three girls bumped into each other while moving back and forth between their cases and the room's one clothes closet.
"Would you like us to wait for you, Jen?" Lisa had called through the bathroom door as Jen prepared to take a shower.
"No, thanks, Lisa," Jen called back. "I'm having dinner with Liz and Ted." She hesitated, then added, "And a man we met in the bar."
"A man!" Lisa shrieked. "What man? Is he good-looking? Was he alone or was he with friends? Oh, why didn't I go down to the bar with you instead of—"
Jen had turned the shower on, effectively drowning out Lisa's voice. By the time Jen walked out of the bathroom Lisa and Terry had gone.
Now, putting the finishing touches to her makeup, a smile twitched at Jen's lips on remembering Lisa's questions. By the number of males evident in the bar, she thought wryly, Lisa should have no trouble finding compan
y.
Stepping back to get a long view of herself in the mirror, Jen studied her reflection critically. Her long skirt, in a heather, lilac, and pale blue plaid, clung just enough to give her a leggy look. And her pale blue full-sleeved blouse in a soft, clingy material molded her high, full breasts while still managing to give her a somewhat fragile appearance.
With a nod of satisfaction she flipped back a fiery red tendril that insisted on falling across her cheek, picked up her handbag, and walked out of the room, breathing slowly to combat the excitement tickling her throat.
As she had a few hours earlier, Jen paused inside the swinging doors of the bar's entrance, stepping to one side to allow an approaching man to exit. The man drew alongside her, hand raised to push open the doors. The hand dropped as turning to her he asked, "Aren't you on the Barton's bus?"
"What?—oh, yes." Jen had barely noticed him as her eyes had been busy searching for Adam. A smile curving her lips, she turned to face him. The smile wavered, but she managed to keep it in place. It was the man who had stood in front of her in line that morning—could it have only been that morning?—the one who had advised his friend to work off his frustrations.
"Well, hi." His right hand was extended. "I'm Larry Gordon."
It was the first really good look she had of him. Larry Gordon was an exceptionally attractive young man, almost pretty. About twenty-five or six, he had a head full of soft blond curls that perfectly topped his boyishly innocent, baby blue-eyed face. His smile was warm, somewhat shy, and his eyes were guileless. If Jen had not overheard his words that morning, heard the underlying disdain for women in his tone, she'd have trusted him on sight. But she had heard him; she didn't trust or like him.
After a brief hesitation while these thoughts flashed through her mind, she placed her palm against his.
"Jen Lengle."
Maybe it was foolish, but Jen had a sudden aversion to giving him her full name. After hearing Adam say it, she simply did not want it on this man's lips.
"Hello, Jen Lengle." His tone had a hint of intimacy that stiffened Jen's spine. "Since we both seem to be alone, how about having dinner with me?"
Good heavens! Jen thought in amazement. Don't tell me his companion has found a playmate already? Revulsion, combined with a hot shaft of anger, shot through her. Masking her face to keep it from showing, Jen felt her smile beginning to dissolve.
"I'm sorry, I'm meeting—" Jen began firmly, but a feathering shiver withered the refusal in her mouth. Her back to the bar as she faced Larry, she had not seen Adam cross the room, yet she knew he was there; the shiver told her.
"I've been waiting for you." Adam's quiet tone doubled her shivers. "Ted and Liz have gone into the dining room. As soon as you've introduced me to your friend, we'll join them."
Startled by the edge his tone had taken on, Jen's eyes flew to his face. His visage revealed nothing of what he was thinking, and his eyes looked flat, lifeless.
"Oh, yes—of course." Jen paused to draw a quick breath. What was the matter with her? She felt like a tongue-tied teen-ager caught in some guilty act. Guilty? For talking a few minutes with Larry? But why? The questions zapped through Jen's mind in the instant required to draw that calming breath. "Adam, this is Larry Gordon. He's one of the tour passengers. Larry, Adam Banner."
While the two men shook hands, exchanging the usual trite introductory conversation, Jen brought herself under control. Guilty indeed! But Adam's sudden appearance while she'd been talking to Larry had caused the strangest feeling, almost as if she were being disloyal. And she'd met Adam only a few hours ago! The word strange didn't seem strong enough.
Preoccupied with her confusing thoughts, Jen smiled vaguely at Larry when he excused himself and headed back to the bar, missing entirely the suggestive wink he sent her once he was beyond Adam's sight.
"Are you hungry?" Adam's quiet voice nudged her out of her musings.
"Starving." Jen walked by the door he was holding for her. "Are you?" she asked when he fell into step beside her.
"Yes," he answered shortly.
They were a few feet from the swinging doors into the dining room when Adam stopped moving and turned to her, a frown creasing his brow.
"Did you want to have dinner with him?"
Caught unaware by the abruptness of his query, Jen stared at him in perplexity. "With whom? Larry?" At his nod, she frowned. "Of course not."
"Good." The emphatic word seemed to be issued with a sigh of relief. Taking her arm, he started moving again. "Do you know him well?" His tone was even, bland. Almost too bland.
"I don't know him at all." Jen preceded him into the dining room with a smile of thanks as he again held the door. "And I don't want to know him," she added emphatically.
Adam lifted a hand to acknowledge Ted's beckoning wave from the corner of the room, while at the same time he lifted questioning brows at her.
"He comes on a little too strong," Jen answered his curious look.
"Has he been annoying you?" he asked sharply.
"Not at all!" Jen exclaimed, startled by the fierceness of his tone. Returning Ted and Liz's smiles as they approached the table, Jen added in an undertone, "But I know the type and I don't appreciate them."
The table Bill had kept for them was at the very end corner of the crowded room at a large plate glass window.
Every table was occupied, and the conversation and occasional laughter that floated on the air had a festive holiday ring.
Ted and Liz seemed to be in a festive mood as well. Liz looked decidedly sexy in an ice blue satin jumpsuit. Ted, out of uniform, looked younger and casually terrific in a patterned cream and tan knit pullover and dark brown slacks. With the weight of responsibility lifted from his shoulders, Ted was in a relaxed, teasing mood.
"What do you think, Adam?" he asked with feigned seriousness, his eyes moving from Liz to Jen. "Was it fate or pure blind luck that put us in the bar at the perfect time to latch onto the two loveliest women in this place?"
A slow, heart-stopping smile curved Adam's lips, and the warm velvet look was back in the eyes that followed Ted's from one pink-cheeked face to the other.
"I think it was a combination of both," Adam said softly. "A combination I have no desire to question but a strong desire to savor."
Jen felt her flush deepen under his melting gaze, felt her breath quicken as that gaze moved over her slowly, lingering first on her gently heaving breasts, then on her slightly parted lips.
God! He was making love to her with his eyes! Boldly, brazenly, in front of anyone who cared to watch, he was staking a silent claim on her. The response that quivered through Jen shocked her. Shaken by the intensity of her reaction to him, she tore her eyes away in embarrassment.
Incredibly, Liz and Ted seemed not to have noticed anything unusual. On closer inspection Jen decided it wasn't all that incredible, as Ted and Liz had eyes only for each other.
Aware now, attune to the vibrations, Jen, unable to tear her eyes away, watched the silent byplay between Ted and Liz. Ted's eyes, older but no less dimmed than Adam's, caressed her. Liz's reaction was much the same as Jen's had been.
What in the world was happening to all of them? The thought shot through Jen's mind like an outcry. Did being snowbound affect the mind, the senses? Feeling suddenly like an intruder, Jen lowered her eyes to the table. The tug of warm velvet drew her eyes from the Wedgwood blue tablecloth to Adam's face. His expression was both understanding and compassionate. He knew the turmoil and confusion she was experiencing!
The appearance of their waiter shattered the intimacy that seemed to encompass the table.
"Good evening, folks." The young man smiled pleasantly. "Would you like something from the bar before ordering?"
"I'll have a double martini on the rocks," Liz replied in a strained, breathless blurt.
Although Ted's eyebrows went up, an indulgent smile tugged at his lips.
"I'll have the same," he told the waiter.
"Jen
nifer?" Adam nudged at her hesitation. "White wine?" She nodded and he turned to the waiter. "And I'll have a Manhattan—with a twist."
"Yes, sir." With another quick smile the young man handed menus around, then sauntered away.
Quiet prevailed for several minutes while they studied the bill of fare, then, closing the menu, Liz said stiltedly, "I think I'll have the shrimp cocktail and the flounder stuffed with crab meat."
"The shrimp cocktail sounds good," Ted agreed, "but I'll go with the broiled scallops." Glancing first at Jen then at Adam, he asked, "What about you two?"
"French onion soup."
Their replies came simultaneously and, strangely, broke the tension simmering among all of them.
"And?" Ted laughed.
"Prime rib with baked potato." Jen grinned at Ted before prompting teasingly, "Adam?"
Broad shoulders inside a very expensive-looking off-white cable knit sweater lifted in a believe-it-or-not shrug.
"The same," he drawled softly.
The food was expertly prepared and delicious. Adam had cause to execute that elegant shrug once again when, taking the small boat of sour cream with chives Jen handed to him, he proceeded to pile every bit as much of it onto his potato as she had.
On leaving the dining room they encountered Bill Wakefield in the lobby and in a chorus congratulated him on his chef. Bill's slender face beamed at their lavish praise.
"Glad you enjoyed it and I'll be happy to pass your kind words on to the cook. It'll make his day." His smile turned impish. "Even though he knows he's good. Doesn't hesitate to tell me—regularly."
A phone rang, and from behind the registration desk the clerk called, "Phone for you, Bill."
"Coming," Bill called. "Enjoy yourselves." Then he .added over his shoulder, "Oh, yeah, there's dancing in the bar tonight—to the jukebox."
"Well, at least the phones weren't knocked out of service," Liz observed as they strolled across the lobby.
"I never thought of that!" Jen exclaimed, stopping dead. "Look, you three go on ahead. I'm going to call home and let my parents know I'm all right and where I am."