Deceptive Love

by Anne N. Reisser

  Keri blushed. He certainly had expressive eyes. "Have you any further instructions for me today, Mr. Randolph?" she said in her most repressive, Miss Dalton-like accents, striving to keep the fountaining excitement which flared like a fireworks display from showing on her face or in her voice.

  His face assumed an expression of pure mischief. "You can call Miss Barth and tell her that it's safe for her to come back." Then all teasing dropped from his manner and he added savagely, "But God help her if she opens her spiteful little mouth again!"

  Dain left the office soon afterward and on the whole, Keri was glad to see him go, and to know that she would have a few days respite from his disturbing presence.

  Keri had repaired the external damage to her appearance caused by Dain's impetuous lovemaking before Bridget saw her, but there must have been some lingering grace of passion in her sparkling eyes and softly full mouth, because Bridget looked at her sharply when Keri carried in the coffee from the canteen for the coffee break. There was a luminous, relaxed glow radiating from Keri which had been noticeably lacking before Dain came back to the office. Bridget wisely kept her own counsel, but it didn't stop her from worrying. Dain Randolph was no safe playmate for a sweet girl like Keri!

  The next two days flowed smoothly for Keri, neither too fast nor too slowly. Elise came back to work the next day. Keri had called Elise, ostensibly to inquire after her health, and had subtly let Elise know that Dain wasn't going to be on the premises for several days. Elise took the hint and informed Keri in a subdued voice that her "flu" was better and she would return on the morrow. Keri said quietly that she was pleased to hear that Elise was recovered.

  Elise came back to her old desk, but the balance of power had shifted and it stayed that way. Keri oversaw the division of the work now and she was scrupulously fair. Elise did more typing in the two days of Dain's absence than she usually did in a week. Even so, Keri still turned out nearly double the volume, piece for piece. She was faster and more accurate than Elise, but for the first time in a long time, Elise pulled her true weight.

  Keri spoke to Dain several times on the phone while he was in New York, but although he asked specifically for her, there were no personal exchanges. He was brisk and crisp and instructions flowed from him in a racing freshet. It was a good thing his office was running more smoothly and efficiently, Keri thought with some humor, or they'd have had to bring in a fourth girl temporarily to help handle the directions for reports, studies, and background research. Keri had joked to Dain that it was time for him to acquire another company, but perhaps it was not going to be so much of a joke as she had thought.

  When Dain returned on Friday he looked tired. Keri only caught glimpses of him during the morning. There seemed to be a steady stream of people going in and coming out of his office in groups of twos and threes, and Keri was seriously wondering whether Dain might not be too tired to go out in the evening after ail. She wrestled with her conscience and lost. She supposed that she ought to ask him if he'd like to skip the concert.

  For a while it looked as though she wasn't even going to get to speak to him, let alone carry on a conversation of more than two or three words. He went out in the early afternoon and returned to the office only just before five. Elise was watching the clock, much as Keri had done at the start of the week. Even Bridget gave the impression of a race horse straining at the starting gate. Weekend itis was affecting two-thirds of Dain's secretarial force.

  Elise's voice came through the intercom. "Mr. Randolph wishes to see you in his office, Keri. He said to bring your book."

  Keri gathered up her steno pad and some pencils with a strong sense of deja vu. She said good night absently to Bridget and tossed another good night to Elise, who was departing the premises with all speed as Keri started to open the inner door leading to Dain's office.

  When she entered the office her gaze went expectantly to Dain's desk. He wasn't sitting behind it as she had expected, and she took another step into the room automatically. A hand came out from somewhere behind and to the left of her, firmly closing the door. With a reflex action, Keri tossed her pad and pencils out of harm's way—no sense breaking perfectly good pencils—and turned into Dain's arms with graceful naturalness.

  He gathered her hard against him and this time he didn't have to tantalize her lips to yield their sweetness to his probing mouth. After the first long kiss he whispered, "Anticipation of this moment got me through two days of hell in New York." He kissed her again and Keri responded enthusiastically.

  When they surfaced for air again, Keri lifted a hand to smooth the tired creases at the corners of his eyes. "You look so tired, Dain," she whispered. "Didn't you sleep at all while you were in New York?"

  "Not much," he admitted, touched by her concern. "I got through four days' work in two so I'd be free this weekend." She recognized the look in his eyes now. "But when I did sleep, I had some very interesting dreams," he assured her wickedly.

  Keri buried her head in his chest and was sure he could feel the heat in her cheeks all the way through his vest and shirt. "Dain!" she choked out in admonition and remonstrance.

  He sighed and released her regretfully from his arms. "If we're to be ready in time, I guess we'd better go. I just wanted to tell you I'll be by for you at a quarter to seven tonight. Pack double rations in that basket. I missed lunch."

  "Oh, Dain, are you sure you want to go tonight?"

  He stiffened. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

  She saw that he had misunderstood and hurried to explain more clearly. "I mean that you're so tired. We ... we could forget about tonight and you could get a good night's rest." The concern in her face as she looked up into his was more convincing than all her words.

  He dropped a swift kiss on her forehead and assured her, "Believe me, sweetheart, if I don't get to spend this evening with you, I won't be helped by a good night's sleep. My temper hasn't been the best the past two days. It'll take the New York operation some time to recover from my descent on them, and the only thing that made me even bearable was that I got to talk to you once or twice."

  "Liar," she chuckled. "You could have been talking to Bridget for all you said, 'Miss Dalton, see that the Carlin report is sent directly to Ravenson's at once.'" She mimicked one of his conversations with her.

  "The switchboard operators eavesdrop," he informed her, "and you were the one who said she wanted to be called Miss Dalton." He growled deep in his throat.

  "I think I'd better go home and raid my refrigerator," she informed him. "I can tell you missed lunch. I should have cooked another package of drumsticks. No sleep, no food ... you'll be a mere shadow of your former self." She neatly evaded his arms and whisked out of his office, leaving her secretarial accoutrements still scattered over his floor. "See you at a quarter to, Dain," she called back over her shoulder as she snatched up her purse and fled, laughing.

  Keri drove home humming. She hummed in the shower and she hummed as she packed the picnic hamper. There were over a dozen plump drumsticks. In spite of her words to Dain, there would certainly be enough food! There were also crisp fresh vegetable sticks and rounds to dunk into a creamy cheese and wine dip and small cherry tomatoes just the right size to pop into one's own or another's mouth. Homemade onion and dill rolls which would still be warm from the oven were packed carefully in an in sulated container. Hardboiled eggs, already peeled, and honey butter for the rolls were fitted into odd corners, and frosted sherried fudge squares for a possible sweet tooth or empty niche rested carefully atop the whole.

  Keri prepared herself as carefully as she had prepared the food hamper. She chose a comfortable but elegant golden brown pants suit, teaming it with a ruffled silk blouse whose first button was situated just where the second button of other blouses usually began. She was living dangerously but she was suddenly heedless of consequences. Charme breathed fragrance at the pulse spots and between her breasts, her hair was softly piled atop her head, and a warm, soft, expectant look
glowed in her eyes. Keri was ready. Her eyes were huge and dreamy and when the doorbell pealed, a happy smile curved her full lips.

  A momentary caution made her glance through the newly installed peephole. How appalling to open the door to an unexpected and unwelcome Schyler! But it was Dain, recognizable, though distorted, through the fish-eye of the lens, who waited none too patiently outside her door. As her hand reached for the deadbolt lock, the door chimes pealed impatiently once more.

  Keri whisked open the door and happily accepted Dain's kiss. Lipstick was replaceable after all.

  "Mmm. You smell good enough to eat," he murmured softly as he nuzzled at her throat, moving down closer to the enticing, sweet-scented opening of her blouse.

  "We are going to Wolf Trap," she informed him as she lithely evaded his lightly encircling arms. She shoved the hamper into them and he grunted at the weight. He hefted it consideringly and cocked an eyebrow at her.

  "Must have been a two-hundred-pound chicken," he declared.

  "You said you were hungry," she explained and picked up her purse. "I know I am. Chicken and Tchaikovsky ... a natural duo."

  They exited from the Dulles access road with the others who were bound for the same entertainment. Dain drove slowly through the housing development which lined Wolf Trap Road, keeping a wary eye out for late-playing children.

  "I sure wouldn't want a house here," Keri commented. "What a nuisance to have periodic traffic jams right outside your front door all summer. I understand that there are daytime activities as well as evening performances."

  "Yes, there's a children's theater and other festivals that are featured throughout the summer, as well as workshops in the various performing arts. RanCo is a supporting patron, in fact."

  Dain parked the car in the rapidly filling lot, and with Keri burdened by the thick comforter and the wine bottle she carried cradled in her arms and Dain managing the hamper and the two collapsible backrests, they started the walk up the hill to the amphitheater.

  They staked out their own piece of the grassy hillside by spreading the comforter Dain had supplied. While Keri unpacked and spread the contents of the hamper, Dain dealt with the wine.

  Keri waggled a plate at Dain. "Something of everything?"

  He grinned. "Just put my second helping right next to my first." He opened his mouth for the celery stick Keri had loaded with the cheese dip and she popped it in, neatly avoiding his snapping teeth.

  "Never bite the hand that feeds you," she admonished him sternly and handed him a drumstick to tide him over until she finished filling his plate.

  The hum of conversation and the spasmodic notes from the orchestra as the instruments were tuned to perfect pitch formed an undistracting background for their meal. Keri was glad to see that some of the tired lines around Dain's eyes had faded and when he finally leaned against the backrest with a sigh of repletion, she regarded the pile of denuded drumsticks stacked tidily on his plate with some awe. He had eaten as though he'd not only missed lunch but breakfast and dinner the night before as well.

  "Keri, I'd marry you for your cooking alone," Dain said lazily. "This makes twice that you've saved me from imminent starvation."

  Keri was momentarily silent. Her heart had lurched alarmingly when he had tossed out that casual remark and she didn't trust her voice yet. She had realized, agonizingly, that she would like nothing more than to be married to Dain Randolph. She also rated her chances of such an event coming to pass as slim to none!

  She finished packing the remains of their meal neatly in the hamper and asked him steadily, "Do you want any more wine right now, before I recork the bottle?"

  "I must say, you take it calmly," Dain said mildly, but there was a lurking twinkle deep in his eyes.

  Keri looked at him in bewilderment. "Take what calmly? Your poor dietary habits? I've never lost a boss to starvation yet."

  "Well, he observed, "I've never asked anyone to marry me before, but I had envisioned a somewhat more enthusiastic reaction when I finally did. Do you think I'll keep you chained in the kitchen, whipping up gargantuan meals round the clock? Is that why you're not interested?

  Believe me, my dear"—he twirled an imaginary mustache —"if I chain you anywhere, it won't be in the kitchen!"

  Keri swallowed around a large obstruction which had suddenly lodged itself in her throat. She thought it was probably her heart. "D-Dain?" she squeaked on a rising note.

  Dain was suddenly serious. He caught her hands in his warm, strong clasp and looked fully into her eyes. "I love you, Keri. Please marry me."

  To the delight of the interested people on blankets spread near them, Keri launched herself into Dain's arms with all of the enthusiasm he could possibly desire. The kiss exploded between them like a fireball and when they finally reeled apart, gasping for air, they were given a round of applause. Neither Keri nor Dain took the slightest notice of their audience.

  "I take it that meant yes," Dain said rather huskily.

  Keri blushed but managed enough spirit to say, "Well, would you believe it was a positive maybe?" He reached for her again and she fell against him, laughing. "I didn't think you'd believe it," she said with satisfaction. "Yes, yes, yes! I love you, Dain. I'll marry you."

  That earned her another kiss, as inflammatory as the last. Keri vaguely thought she heard the roaring of surf at the beach, but realized at last that it was merely the applause greeting the appearance of the conductor. The program was about to begin. The opening bars of the music sounded just like Mendelssohn's Wedding March, but she admitted fairly that right now probably everything would sound like the Wedding March!

  Dain arranged the two backrests side by side and Keri settled snugly into the shelter of his near arm. He reached across and captured her hand with his free hand and held it warmly. Keri was in heaven and it wasn't the magnificent music that had wafted her there.

  If the truth be told, until she looked at the program at the intermission she had no idea what selections had been performed. It could have been a jug and bottle band playing for all the attention she gave it. Dain loved her. He wanted to marry her. No music in the world, even were it sung by full angelic chorus, could compete with that fact.

  They shared a glass of wine at the break, draining the last of the bottle Dain had brought. Keri also fed Dain fudge squares until he sighed, satiated. "Do you think you'll be able to hold out until breakfast, darling?" she asked him solicitously. "I think there's one more hard- boiled egg. You could tuck it under your pillow tonight for a midnight snack."

  "Hush, woman. I'm building up my inner resources. I'm sure marriage must require a lot of strength, especially marriage to you."

  "Is that a compliment?" she asked suspiciously.

  "Ask me again on our wedding night," he whispered, "or better yet, the next morning." He lifted her hand to his mouth and she felt the tip of his tongue caressing the center of her sensitive palm. Fortunately the interval was over and the concert started again. Keri's breathing returned to what passed for normal sometime during the second piece.

  They were in no hurry to reach the car, or to join the line of cars snaking out of the parking lot amid slow motion clouds of dust. Their stroll back to the parked car was delayed whenever Keri stopped to admire the star- sprinkled sky or when Dain stopped Keri to give her a gentle kiss. It was a slow walk.

  When they finally reached the car, the parking lot was already more than half empty and cars were revving impatiently in line, waiting for their turn. Dain put all the impedimenta away, helped Keri into the front seat and joined her from his side of the car. In the darkness and privacy of the car interior Dain pulled her into his arms with- a hunger that was well matched by Keri's own.

  He ran his hands over her shoulders, down her upper arms, and over to her rib cage. The silky soft blouse was no barrier to his delight in the fullness which filled and overflowed his palms. "Mine, you're mine now, Keri. All mine, only mine," he murmured before he took her mouth in an almost punishing
kiss.

  It was with a distinct effort that he pulled himself away. Never the time nor the place," he said wryly. The parking lot was nearly deserted and it was time for them to go as well. Keri snuggled close to him, sliding her shoulder behind his right arm so that they were close, but he could drive unimpeded. Daringly she laid her left hand on the top of his thigh, enjoying the feel of the flexing power of his leg muscles as he accelerated and braked. His hand dropped down briefly to squeeze hers and to press it more firmly onto his leg.

  The drive to her apartment was swift. Traffic was light on the Beltway and Dain was a steady, skillful driver. Nevertheless Keri was drooping by the time they reached the visitors' parking spaces in front of her apartment. The wine, the hard week, and most of all, the emotions she had experienced, despair and delight, all took their toll.

  Dain leaned forward to shut off the ignition and as he looked back at Keri, he caught her in the midst of a massive yawn. The yawn reflex caught up with him too, and he smothered one with his hand and then wearily rubbed the back of his neck. Keri grinned sleepily at him and he leaned forward to kiss the tip of her nose. "Come on, sweetheart. Time for all big-eyed little girls to go inside."

  Keri agreed without argument. Her eyelids felt grainy with tiredness and she was fighting a losing battle against another yawn. Dain helped her from the car and tucked her beneath his arm. She slid an arm around his waist. He was so warm and so nice to lean on. She drooped against him wearily. They were riding up in the elevator before she remembered the picnic basket.

  'I’ll bring it with me tomorrow, darling," Dain assured Keri. "You did say there was one more hardboiled egg, didn't you?"

  "Maybe even a drumstick or two and some cherry tomatoes as well," she enumerated with a smile.

  Keri gave Dain her key and he opened the door to her apartment. They stepped inside, but Dain didn't close the door behind him as she had expected. Keri looked up at him questioningly and he laid a fingertip on her lips.