She awoke an hour later feeling amazingly refreshed and went into the bathroom to run her bath. From the array of toiletries assembled on the shelf beneath the large mirror she selected the liquid bubble bath and generously doused her bath water. The result delighted her. The tub filled with soft bubbles emitting a haunting fragrance. She luxuriated in the big square tub, loath to get out. The steam from the bath had allowed a few tendrils of her hair to escape the hairpins she had used to pin it up. She was raising up out of the tub to reach more pins when she heard her bedroom door open.
Through her half-open bathroom door she saw Adam walk into her bedroom with his arms piled with boxes which he dumped on the bed. She gasped in dismay. His laughing dark eyes met her startled ones, traveled down over her bare shoulders, then deliberately lower. He walked into the bathroom and seated himself on a stool. Molly was shocked speechless.
"Want me to wash your back?" he asked drolly. She tried to sink lower into the bubbles.
"You're being a smartass, Adam! Get out of here!"
He reached for a washcloth, dipped it in the water, and let it trail across the back of her neck.
"Nasty words! I'll have to wash your mouth out with soap." He whispered in her ear then nipped the lobe gently with his teeth.
She grabbed the cloth and was about to swing with it when he jumped out of the way.
"Go ahead with your bath, kitten. I'll unpack your dress."
Molly sank lower in the tub and prayed the bubbles would last until he left the room. She could see him unpacking the white dress and hanging it on a hanger. To her chagrin he unpacked everything. The lacy underthings, the nightgowns. He laid out high-heeled silver sandals she had not seen before. He rummaged in the boxes and came toward the bathroom with an infuriating devilish grin on his face. He was holding up for her inspection a sheer black lace negligee.
"Here's something for you to put on when you get out of the tub," he drawled.
"Get out of here, Adam Reneau!" she said crossly, and threw the wet cloth at him. He dodged it easily and came to kneel down beside the tub.
"You shouldn't throw things at your husband," he scolded.
She could feel his breath on her cheek. His hand went out to cradle the back of her head. She was looking into his eyes when his lips came down on hers. His kiss was light until her lips parted voluntarily then it deepened, his breath quickened, and he pulled her to him, lifting her wet arm out of the Water to guide it around his neck. His hand caressed her bare back and coming around cupped and squeezed her small pointed breasts that were half concealed by the bubbles. She felt an electric current going through her. He tore his mouth from hers and buried his face in the damp, fragrant skin of her neck.
"Do you know what you're doing to me?" he demanded huskily, and not waiting for an answer, he gently pulled down her lower lip with his thumb and forefinger and fastened his lean mouth to hers again.
Molly had never been kissed by any other man and even he had never kissed her in this savage, passionate way before. She arched toward him, pliant in his arms. Only a small part of her consciousness urged her to try and stop him.
His dark eyes were glazed with emotion when he lifted his head. Aroused as she was Molly hardly knew when his lips had left hers. He kissed her on the nose then gently drew her arm from around his neck. Scooping up a handful of bubbles he covered her pink-tipped breasts where they rose out of the water.
"Am I the only man to have kissed you?"
She nodded, not taking her eyes from his. She felt as if she was mesmerized. He placed little nibbly kisses on her face and neck.
"You are precious, Molly mine." He got to his feet and without looking at her went out and closed the door.
Molly sat perfectly still for some minutes after he left, showing no trace of the emotion chasing through her veins. Why didn't she feel any shame for allowing him to caress her as he had? The way her body responded to his caresses frightened her. She shook her wandering thoughts together and got out of the tub.
Toweling herself dry and generously dusting herself with talcum powder, she picked up the black lace garment Adam had dropped on the floor. It was lovely and she couldn't resist trying it on. She opened the door and peeked into the bedroom before going in. She was sure he wouldn't be there, but she was taking no chances. She shed the sheer robe for a more practical one and gave herself up to the pleasure of looking over her new wardrobe.
Molly dressed slowly for her evening out with Adam. She needed the self-confidence of knowing she looked her best. The new gown and coat would certainly help. She had no idea of what Adam's mood would be. She was nervous at the thought of meeting him after the scene in the bathroom.
She stood back from the mirror to judge the finished effect and wondered at the miracle fashionable clothes could achieve. The sleeveless bodice, with the small mandarin collar, the straight skirt, and the high-heeled sandals were a perfect foil for her slender young figure. Makeup was minimal—a touch of blue eye shadow to highlight her eyes, a smear of coral lipstick to outline a mouth made vulnerable by the fullness of the lower lip, and a dusting of powder gave a mat appearance to the small straight nose. She had brushed her hair until it shone, and knowing Adam's aversion to having it pinned, had left it hang to her shoulders, the ends slightly turning up. She was gazing unbelievingly into the mirror at the elegant stranger when, after a rap on the door, Adam walked in.
Molly's pulse began to race as he looked her over from the top of her head to the tips of her silver shoes peeking out from under the white dress. Twin fires lit his dark, exciting eyes and Molly waited breathlessly for him to speak.
He came to stand behind her, his eyes holding hers in the reflection of the mirror. He put his hands on her bare arms.
"So beautiful, and so damned unaware of it!" He turned her around to face him and fondled the diamond earrings she had fastened to her ears.
He looked particularly handsome in the dark suit; the whiteness of his shirt contrasted with the darkness of his skin. His black hair had been brushed into place, but was already rebelling against the direction it had been forced to go. His brilliant dark eyes never moved from her face while he stood strangely silent. Molly felt her pulses warm her body as his appreciative gaze wandered over her. The force of her emotions deepened the color of her eyes, the most piquant feature of her beauty.
"You have lovely eyes, Molly mine," he murmured, his eyes lingering on her face.
Molly, obeying a totally reckless impulse, held up her face to him. His lips tilted slightly as he bent his dark head and kissed her on the nose.
"I've promised Dad he could see his lovely daughter before we go." His beautiful voice turned her heart over. He picked up her white coat and laid it over his arm and they left the apartment.
Adam stopped the car outside a tall gray building. A private club, he told her as he hurried her into the warmth of the building. After tossing his car keys to a warmly dressed doorman they removed their wraps and entered the dining room, it seemed all eyes were focused upon them as they paused in the doorway. The men looked appreciatively at the lovely girl, and the women openly eyed the handsome man beside her.
Adam was evidently well known here. The headwaiter called him by name when he showed them to a table. As they seated themselves, the orchestra began to play. The music was soft and romantic and one or two couples got up to dance on the small dance floor.
"I hope you like salmon," Adam said. "I took the liberty of ordering our meal in advance."
Molly nodded, trying desperately not to be nervous. She looked around the room at the fashionably dressed, sophisticated women who were perfectly comfortable in these surroundings. This was Adam's world. He was at ease here. A little wave of depression hit her.
Adam ordered a bottle of champagne with their meal, and as they waited for their first course to arrive, she sipped it cautiously, remembering the effect it had had on her when she had first drunk it at their wedding reception. He laughed at her and
smiled a sweet, almost loving smile.
When she had almost finished what was in her glass, he filled it up again. She began to feel wonderfully gay and chattered to him all through their meal. He responded with a mood to match hers and she thought she had never been so happy.
To the curious onlookers they presented a picture of two people completely engrossed in each other. Adam's eyes never left her face and it was plain to see the lovely girl adored him.
Charlie had taught Molly to dance when she first went to the bush to live, but she had danced only with him and a few times with Jim Robinson at a club in Fairbanks. Adam asked her to dance and was pleasantly surprised when she got to her feet. The dance floor was small and dimly lit and when they began to dance, he was glad that she melted into his arms without a trace of nervousness. Their steps matched perfectly as they moved slowly around the floor to the romantic music the orchestra was playing. He rested his cheek on the top of her head. Molly was so enchanted by the magic of it all that she was afraid to speak in case the spell would be broken. She relaxed against him, oblivious of everyone. They lost themselves in the enchantment of their first dance together.
The music stopped and Adam smiled down at her. With his arm still around her waist they made their way back to their table.. Couples from the nearby tables watched them leave the dance floor. Some called out greetings to Adam as they passed. He nodded coolly to each one who spoke, but declined to stop and they proceeded on to the alcove and their table.
He had seated Molly and was about to seat himself when a voice from behind him spoke his name. Molly looked up to see a girl so incredibly beautiful that she blinked. She was as dark haired as Adam, but her skin was a soft mat whiteness. Bright red lipstick covered her pouting lips and her voluptuously rounded figure was dressed to perfection in a revealing black gown that showed a large expanse of her body.
"Hello, Wanita," Adam said, nodding to her escort who stood several paces behind her. The girl moved up close to Adam and linked her arm with his.
Molly looked from the girl to Adam. He was wearing his reticent expression, and his lips had a sardonic twist.
"I've missed you, Adam." The voice was soft, seductive.
"I find that hard to believe, Wanita," Adam said sarcastically, disengaging his arm from her hold. "If you'll excuse me, my wife and I are enjoying a twosome this evening."
Wanita stared at him, not bothering to hide her anger. As the silence lengthened she swung her large blue eyes around at Molly and her lips curled. She looked back at Adam, venom in her eyes.
"You married her ?" There was no mistaking the sardonic emphasis she put on her words. Molly cringed. Adam didn't even bother to answer and the angry eyes swung back to Molly.
"Get you pregnant, did he?" she sneered. "An old pro like you should never have let that happen, Adam." Her fiery gaze turned on him.
"Good-bye, Wanita." Adam pulled out his chair and sat down. Neither said anything for a while after the girl left. Molly's arm was resting on the table and Adam laid his hand on it as they sat in silence.
"I'm sorry, Molly," he said finally.
She tried to smile naturally, but the smile never reached her eyes as she thought of Wanita's cruel insinuation. She found herself replying, saying it didn't matter in the least, trying to hide her pain. His hand on her arm moved back and forth in a caressing motion. He looked at her smiling lips and pleading eyes and his grin came back. His hand slid down her arm and his fingers interlaced with hers.
"Molly mine, you're precious! Shall we go back to the apartment and have a private party all our own?"
She nodded eagerly, trying to quell the deep sorrow welling inside her. "I might even get tipsy!" she said brightly. He chuckled at the thought.
When they left the dining room, his arm was around her.
The gay mood stayed with them all the way back to the apartment. While she was hanging up her coat Adam brought out a bottle of champagne and encased it in a bucket of ice. He was selecting records for the stereo when she came back into the room. He looked up, saw her, and held out his hand. She went to him. He was in a strange mood tonight. He seemed to want to touch her, and she wanted him to.
She was feeling relaxed and a lot happier now. The soft glow of the lamps and the sensuous music added to the feeling of time suspended. Adam's dark eyes had developed a mild look of teasing and at the same time she was sure he felt desire for her. She was grateful he found her desirable enough to want to make love to her. This was enough for now, she thought. If the fates were kind, maybe love would come later.
"May I have this dance?" he asked formally, taking the glass from her hand. They had toasted each other with two glasses of champagne and it had began to lend its own particular magic to the evening.
She went into his arms. "Just this one. I'm booked up for the rest of the evening."
"Lucky man." They were moving slowly. He lifted first one of her arms and then the other up onto his shoulders. She needed no other encouragement to clasp them around his neck. He wrapped both arms around her and they swayed together.
"I've never danced like this," she murmured, pressing her face to his shoulder.
He moved his hand down to her hips and pulled her even closer. "Well, I should hope not!"
"I think I'm a little bit tipsy, Adam."
"Hmmmm… I think so."
"Do you mind?"
"Not as long as you're with me."
"Would you mind if I was a little bit tipsy with someone else?" Her voice was taking on a dreamy quality.
"I would mind like hell if you were with anyone else."
"You would?" she said wonderingly. "Oh!"
"Oh, what?"
"Oh, I didn't know you would care if I got a little bit tipsy with someone else… Adam?"
"Hmmm…"
"Have you made love to a lot of women?"
"A few."
"Did you love them?"
"No. I made love to them, but I didn't love them."
"That wasn't very nice. I'd never do that."
"Do what?"
"Let men make love to me. I want just one man and I want him to want just me. I want him to love me."
He didn't answer. He encircled her neck with one large hand and tilted her chin up with his thumb. Her eyes were tightly closed, and as he looked at her, two crystal tears squeezed themselves out from under the dark lashes. Her mouth trembled and she tried to bury her face in his shoulder again.
"Darling? Molly," he said huskily, his hand going to the nape of her neck and pressing her head to him.
"I've had a little too much to drink!" Her voice was muffled against him.
He caught her up into his arms, carried her across to the couch, sat down, and cuddled her against him.
"Don't cry, love." His lips tasted the salty tears on her face. He rocked her back and forth and crooned to her. "Darling, don't cry!" He kissed her, not with passionate kisses, but with loving tender ones, from her eyes to her lips to her throat.
"I've had a little too much to drink." She said it again and even to her own intoxicated self it was a lame-sounding excuse. But it was so wonderful being here with him!
They sat silently. He rested his cheek against her forehead and she snuggled her face against his throat. Her arm was around his shoulders and her fingers gently stroked the nape of his neck. The music played on and he caressed her and soothed her, content just to hold her.
Molly stirred and tilted her head back so she could look up. "Adam… ?"
"Yes, love?"
"May I kiss you?" she whispered, as her hand came around to the side of his face.
"I'd like that, love."
She pulled his face to hers and gently kissed his lips. He kept perfectly still and she kissed his face, the corner of his mouth, his cheeks, his chin, any part of his face she could reach. Then sighing she turned her face again to his throat. She could feel him trembling now and his heart, against her breast, was beating rapidly.
"Adam�
�� will you ever sleep with me again?" In her intoxicated state the question seemed to be a reasonable one.
"That would be up to you."
"Do you want to?" she persisted.
"You know I do," he whispered huskily.
"Would you tonight, if I asked?"
"No, love, not tonight. The champagne's talking, not you."
"Yes, you're right, Adam." The muffled voice drifted off.
Adam sat for a while longer and held the sleeping girl. He smoothed the hair back from her forehead and removed the diamond earrings. Reaching down he slipped the silver sandals from her feet. He gazed at her face and his life, up to now, raced before his eyes. How many women out there were worth the trouble to run after? Wanita was a good example of what there was to choose from, he thought bitterly. He kissed the parted lips once more, resisting the urge to crush her to him. Slowly and carefully he got to his feet and carried her down the hall to her room.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Molly awakened next morning and lay for a moment wondering where she was, surprised by the silence. She turned her head and looked at the clock and remembered.
A flood of memories came rushing in, tumbling over each other. Memories of dancing with Adam, of kissing him and wanting more. Oh, God! What had she done and said? Not wanting to dwell on these memories that made her feel guilty for desiring a man who didn't want her, she swung out of bed and stood looking down at herself. She had on a violet chiffon nightie and that was all! She gave a despairing little cry! As the heat of her embarrassment flooded her, she took a deep breath and looked about the room. Her dress of last evening lay over a chair, her undergarments tossed nearby. She faintly remembered asking Adam if she could kiss him. How could she have done such a thing? She would never drink another intoxicating drink as long as she lived, she vowed.
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