by Peggy Webb
She might think about all that next Tuesday, between assignments in Dallas and Forth Worth. She couldn't bear to think about it now, with him standing so close.
" Shall we go back inside?" Sid finally said, offering his arm.
"Certainly." She slid her hand through his arm, determined not to show how touching him mattered. "You wouldn't want to miss your own party."
"Dammit," he said between gritted teeth.
"Why, Commander Granger, did I hear you utter a byword?"
"In Kentucky we call it cussing."
"In Georgia too, but we would never admit to doing it. At least not in public."
"What's the protocol in Georgia about sharing a drink of champagne with a rejected swan?"
"Are you sure you don't mean swain?"
"With this beak? No, fair one. I mean swan."
She was doing fine until he called her fair one. The way he always said it, she could never mistake it for anything except Sid's special term of endearment.
She almost blew her act . . . covering her real feelings with jokes and laughter. Was Sid doing that too? She wasn't about to try to figure out his methods or his motives. All she wanted to do was get through the rest of the evening with as much grace as possible.
"I'll share one drink with you, Commander. We'll call it farewell."
His face was fierce as he led her into the room.
The noise assaulted them. Sid leaned close so she could hear him.
"Call it whatever you like. Rose Anne. But I make no promises."
Sid got two glasses of champagne and led her to a corner, as far away from the noise of the crowd as he could get. Rose Anne was afraid she might assault him to front of two hundred people.
Keep up the act, she told herself. Play it light. She would be leaving tomorrow. Surely she could get through one evening.
"Are we hiding, Commander?"
"Yes. I'm keeping you all to myself for the duration of this farewell toast." He handed her a full glass. Their fingers touched, sending shock waves all the way down to her toes.
"Drink slowly, Rose Anne."
"I'm a disciplined woman. I never get tipsy."
"I'm not referring to your condition; I'm talking about mine. The slower you drink, the longer I'll have you, and the longer I have you, the better I feel."
"You're slipping, Sid. You were more eloquent in Paris when you were courting for Luther." She watched him over the rim of her glass, unable to keep her eyes off him. Thank goodness, her hands were occupied. Otherwise she might have been ripping the buttons from his crisp uniform and trying to take some of the starch out of his body.
"You committed all my love letters to memory. Do you still remember them?"
"They're long forgotten, along with everything else that happened in Paris."
"And Africa? Have you forgotten that too?"
She was certain the hot color in her cheeks gave her away, but she wasn't about to admit anything, especially the truth—that she would always remember the way she had felt in his arms. That she would remember his hot mouth upon her skin until the day she died.
"Africa? Did something happen in Africa?"
Sid's smile was wicked and predatory. "Forgive and forget, they say. Since you've so obviously forgotten, you must also have forgiven."
He was damnably clever. Why hadn't she remembered that? Why had she ever agreed to one glass of champagne?
"Since there is nothing to remember, then there is obviously nothing to forgive," she said.
"I love a clever woman."
"Then I shall spend the rest of the evening being dull."
"I'm amenable. I can love a dull woman, too."
She was dangerously close to tossing the champagne glass onto the floor and throwing herself into his arms. The thing about Sid Granger that made him stand apart from other men was that he could make her feel touched without ever lifting a finger.
In desperation Rose Anne tipped up her glass and finished the rest of the champagne in one gulp.
"All done, Commander." She handed him the empty glass. "Good-bye."
When he took the glass, he captured her hand. "What? No pretty farewell speeches? No congratulations? No empty promises that old acquaintances always make to get together sometime?"
"Let go of me."
"I'm not holding you; I'm merely touching you. You're free to go anytime you like." Color flooded her cheeks. What he said was true. "You like it, don't you, Rose Anne? You like my hand upon yours, my touch burning your skin. I see it in your eyes."
"That's champagne you see. It makes my eyes bright."
Still, she couldn't move away.
"Don't keep running, Rose Anne."
Sid Granger could play tender better than any man she had ever known. She dared not think it was more than a clever act, for if she did, she would surely live to regret it.
"Why, Commander Granger. I'm not running anywhere a-tall. I'm just walking across the room to mix and mingle with the rest of the Navy." She affected a false drawl, and even batted her eyelashes for good measure. Let him think what he would. Let him think she was a silly fool or a scared rabbit or whatever the hell he wanted to think.
All she wanted was out.
Sid stepped back and bowed deeply from the waist. Then he took her hand and gave it the most lingering, most fervent, most erotic kiss in the history of hand kissing. Rose Anne nearly swooned on the spot.
"Until we meet again, fair one." His eyes sparkled. "May it be soon."
"May it be when hell freezes over."
She was so upset, she guessed she flounced when she walked away. So much for getting through the evening with grace.
She marched straight to the long table laid out with every fattening goodie known to man. She wouldn't look back if her life depended on it. Even so, she could feel his eyes on her. The skin at the back of her neck tingled and burned.
Maybe it was a rash. Maybe it was love.
She groaned. Lord in heaven, what was she going to do?
o0o
Sid watched from across the room as Rose Anne loaded her plate. He had never seen her eat more than birdsize helpings.
He smiled. She was upset. Good. So was he. Frustrated, to boot. And determined as hell. Now that she had come back into his life, he was never going to let her go.
Second chances were rare. Fate was giving him one, and he was going to take full advantage.
She kept her back staunchly turned to him. Sid moved close to the table and positioned himself so he would be in her line of vision. The brightness in her eyes and the flush on her skin told him he had scored.
He saluted her with his champagne glass, then raised it to his lips.
She held her plate, staring at him, obviously flustered. Then slowly she popped a strawberry between her teeth. Her full lips closed over the juicy flesh.
Sid's fingers tightened on the champagne stem. If she kept that up, he was going to rip her clothes off and have his way with her in front of the U.S. Navy and a few congressmen as well.
She knew exactly what she was doing to him. She lifted one delicate eyebrow. Her eyes sparkled with mischief. And still she kept her lush lips wrapped around that damnable berry.
Sid moved in on her. When he was standing so close he could almost count her eyelashes, he leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Keep that up. Rose Anne, and I'm going to have to fight the entire U.S. Navy to preserve your honor."
She swallowed the berry. Then, lifting her chin defiantly, she popped another in her mouth. If her act with the first one raised his blood pressure, her act with this one almost gave him a heart attack. Looking at him, with her mouth circling the berry, she actually made small humming sounds of pleasure.
Sid clenched his jaw as he watched. When she had finished with the berry, she smiled up at him.
"Do I bother you. Eagle?"
"It would take me all evening to tell what you do to me."
"Why don't you go somewhere, then, and compose anothe
r poem or write another song. I'm sure it will come in handy when you and your buddies decide to get up another bet."
"I don't write songs anymore. I left my inspiration in Africa."
Memories stirred in her mind. She clamped down on them. Now was not the time to get sentimental.
"Africa . . . It's a place you lose things, they say."
"I intend to get it all back."
Rose Anne took a big swig of champagne. The thought of being wooed by Sid Granger again left her in need of strong fortification.
Much to her relief. Senator and Mrs. Wyland came by and whisked her away.
Rose Anne wished there were a way she could gracefully leave the reception. But she had come with the senator and his wife. It would be rude of her not to go back with them. Besides, enduring the evening had become a matter of pride.
She glanced across the room at Sid. He caught her eye and smiled. It was a pirate's smile, deliciously rakish and wicked. Rose Anne smiled back.
She had lied to herself. Staying was not a matter of pride; it was a matter of one-upmanship with Sid. The game of cat and mouse they were playing was exhilarating. She hadn't felt this happy since she was sitting at the sidewalk cafe in Paris, laughing with him over her "pregnancy."
She had never known love could be fun.
That thought drew her up short. Of course she didn't love Sid. How could you love a man you couldn't trust?
He was still watching her. She could tell by the way her skin prickled.
She ate another strawberry, chased with champagne. Sid looked like a tiger guarding a mouse- hole. Well, she was no mouse. She'd be damned if she'd run.
With a determined smile on her face she turned to the officer standing next to her.
Outside, a rain began to fall. The crowd began to thin out.
Sid and Rose Anne barely noticed. They were still circling each other like two storm fronts, waiting for the clash. The air crackled with the currents that flowed between them.
Rose Anne lost count of the number of berries she ate, the number of finger sandwiches she downed, the amount of champagne she drank. The man who could make her lose her discipline had to be dangerous.
No sooner had she realized that than he was at her side.
"Do you read minds?" she asked.
"Thinking about me. Rose Anne?"
"Not in any heroic context."
"Just being in your thoughts is enough ... for now." He took her arm. "I'm your escort home for the evening."
"No, you're not. I'm with Senator and Mrs. Wyland."
"They left about an hour ago, or didn't you notice?"
"They left without me?"
"I told them I would see you to your hotel, and naturally, since this whole shindig was in my honor, they didn't want to argue."
"If you think I'm going to make a scene by protesting, you're mistaken. A ride with you will change nothing."
"A ride with you will change everything."
Her skin caught fire. Sid Granger the man was as seductive as Sid Granger the musician.
He took her arm, and she allowed it. She even moved in on him as they walked to the car, deliberately promoting body contact.
Without breaking stride he looked down at her, his eyes very bright. But he said nothing. Why didn't he say something? Maybe he couldn't speak for the sexual currents jolting him. She hoped that was the case. If he felt half of what she was feeling, he was probably incapable of speech.
Bolder now that she had survived the walk to the car, Rose Anne scooted as close as she dared to him on the seat, far enough in so she wasn't hugging the door and yet not close enough to seem too obvious. She didn't want him to guess what she was up to.
She hardly knew herself. All she knew was that she was tired of being the pawn in games played by men. Somewhere between Sid's news that the Wylands had left her and his quip about riding with her, she had decided to turn the tables.
The light mist turned to an earnest rain. Sid turned the wipers on, and they made a pleasant swishing sound in the quietness of the car.
He still didn't talk. Neither did she. Her mind was too preoccupied with planning ahead. Did Eagle think he was the only one capable of seduction? He was in for a big surprise—if she could keep herself in control long enough to pull if off.
While they waited for a red light, Sid started whistling softly. It didn't take her long to realize he was whistling the song she'd first heard in Paris. Desire shot its liquid fire through her, and she felt herself going slack. Her legs were turning to butter. If he kept it up, he'd have to carry her into the hotel.
She didn't know whether the whistling was unconscious or calculated, for she was too busy staring at the rain and pretending not to notice.
The silence became so charged, she was suffocating. Rose Anne scooted an inch closer to Sid and put her hand on his arm. It was a maneuver that had almost caused Luther to wreck the car in Paris. Sid merely smiled.
His uniform was uncommonly bright in the dark car with the street lights shining down. He was darkly appealing in his dress whites.
She pressed her free hand over her hammering heart. "I do hope you're not the kind of man to put me out in the rain and let me fend for myself."
He quirked an eyebrow. "Is that an invitation. Rose Anne?"
"Well, of course not. I'm merely suggesting that you escort me to my room like the officer and the gentleman I know you are."
"What happened to hell freezing over?"
He parked the car and escorted her into the hotel.
"I've always considered people who could never change their minds to be dull."
He chuckled.
"What's so funny?" she asked.
"I was just remembering the first time I saw you in Paris, coming through the garden gate." He punched the elevator button. The doors slid open, and they walked in. "You were so beautiful, you took my breath away."
"I didn't see you. Where were you?"
"Hiding behind the rose trees." He caught her shoulders and turned so they were facing the glass panel on the side of the elevator car. "Look at us. Beauty and the Beast. I didn't think you'd look twice at a man like me. I even thought you might laugh."
Warmth flooded Rose Anne's heart. No man had ever revealed his vulnerability to her.
"There's nothing wrong with the way you look."
"If you overlook the fact that my nose arrives places five minutes before I do." He leaned against the wall, his legs slightly spread, and drew her to him, fitting her hips snugly against his.
Was this love? she wondered. This wild ecstasy that stole her will as surely as it stole her breath?
Sid leaned his chin against her hair. "Even when I followed you to Africa I was still hiding, Rose Anne. I wanted your forgiveness—that was true. But it wasn't the only reason I came."
"You don't have to tell me this." Everything was turning out all wrong. She should be the one seducing, and he should be the one spiraling out of control. She drew a shaky breath and prayed the elevator doors would open and somebody else would get on.
Sid's breath fanned warmly against her cheek, and she felt the hot touch of his lips on her skin.
"I'm laying everything on the line. Rose Anne, because I don't plan to do any more hiding—not behind Luther, not behind false motives, not behind puns, not behind anything."
Her heart was slamming so hard against her ribs, she could barely breathe.
"I love you. Rose Anne," he whispered, his lips against her skin. "If I could turn back the clock, I would be telling you this in a rose-scented courtyard."
"You did . . . for Luther."
"This time I'm speaking for myself." He chuckled. "I guess an elevator is an appropriate place, after all. Suited to a homely, no-frills-type of guy like me."
How was she to respond to a declaration of love spoken with such tenderness and sincerity? Fortunately, the elevator came to a stop on her floor, and she didn't have to respond.
"This is my floor."
Mute, she handed him the key. His hands were swift and sure on the lock. If he felt the same turmoil she did, he hid it well. He was probably used to it . . . having a woman invite him up. A man of his passion. A man with his ability to make women want him.
Don't think about it, she told herself. Don't look back. Seize the moment.
"You still make pretty speeches. Commander." She laced her hands around his neck, determined that this time she would be the one to seduce, then walk away. She expected it to be a liberating experience.
What she didn't expect was his body heat that scorched her through her fragile dress. She shivered.
Carrying out her plan was going to be harder than she had thought. But she couldn't back down, not now, not when she was so close to victory.
"Make love to me, Sid," she whispered.
He caught her face between his hands. "Love is what I will make with you, fair one. Not casual sex. I want you to understand that."
"Then you should understand this ... I don't intend to fall under your spell again. You can make love to me, and I'll have sex with you."
She almost disintegrated under the long, fierce stare he gave her. Her breathing became ragged. When she thought she might collapse at his feet, begging, he smiled.
"I'll take my chances. I'll make you change your mind."
They came together like two hungry lions. Absence had made the fires of passion burn high and bright. Waiting had honed their appetites. They were ravenous, and a mere kiss wouldn't satisfy.
"Sid . . ." she said with a moan, leaning hard into him. "I need . . . more."
"I know. Rose Anne. I know." He pressed her against the wall, his hands finding the tender swells of her breasts. "So do I, fair one."
His lips skimmed down the side of her throat, as light as the touch of butterfly wings, but hot. passion climbed high in her until she was moist with it, limp with it.
"You are so beautiful, so very beautiful." He bathed her throat and her cleavage with his warm, wet tongue. "From the moment I first saw you, I've longed for you. Night after night I made love to you at the piano in the dark."