Experiment In Love

by Clay Estrada, Rita

  “And what will you substitute for me? Your make-believe romances? Nights spent with needle and thread while you sew another dream quilt? Books, soft music and California wines?”

  She glared at him, suddenly feeling the conflicting tug of emotions, living again after having closed off the past. “Not good enough, Victoria Brandon Brown. Not good enough.”

  Her eyes narrowed at his use of her full name. He answered her unspoken question. “I’ve been snooping. You’re twenty-seven, five-foot-six, one hundred and twenty pounds—which is too skinny — and you were born in Nevada. You have a brother; I can’t tell if he’s younger or older than you, but the family resemblance is astounding. You write well for the genre; your idea on the dating newspaper exactly coincides with mine, which shows that great minds work the same way, and it was what brought us together. You’ve been reasonably happy and healthy, but too much on your own for too long. And you need someone like me in your life to bring organization out of chaos.”

  She dropped her fork to the table, never looking down. “You’re insane,” she whispered.

  He grinned. “You’re mine. Whether you want to call yourself my girlfriend, my mistress, my lover or my friend, it doesn’t matter. You can choose any or all or just one of those.

  “Not without my permission!” she stated emphatically.

  “Of course not.” he answered unconcerned. “Get dressed. We’re going for a drive.”

  “No. Can’t you take no for an answer?” She breathed heavily, trying to contain herself. Since she had met him, her entire world had gone topsy-turvy, but she would rectify it herself. And the first step would be getting rid of him!

  “If you’re through eating, I’ll bundle you in the car just as you are.” He wasn’t kidding.

  “Not to Santa Barbara.” There was only so much she could cope with in a day, and today she’d had enough to last her a week.

  His expression changed from friendly to frustrated in a second. “Dammit, Victoria, I'm not some pirate about to kidnap and rape you! I’m just taking you for a drive. Get dressed before that overactive imagination of yours goes haywire.”

  She did as she was told. After pulling on an old and comfortable pair of jeans and a yellow plaid pullover, she tied her hair back in a low ponytail with a green ribbon, slipped her contacts on and packed an overnight case. She was ready before he had even finished sparkling up the kitchen.

  “It’s time for you to answer a question or two, Kurt. Now. Or this relationship is over and I’m calling the police.”

  “Okay, shoot.”

  “Why have you been renting cars?” she asked as they drove down the freeway, ready to take the coastal route to Santa Barbara. The scenery was beautiful. Tall cliffs with modem homes perched on top stood to the right-hand side of the road, while the Pacific Ocean rolled to the left.

  “How did you know?” He sounded more surprised than irritated.

  “I saw the rental agreement the first time we went out.”

  “Why didn’t you ask me then?”

  “Because I just figured your car was in the shop or you were trying to impress me.”

  “With a two-year-old car?” Amusement tinged his voice.

  “I did wonder about that but who knows what lurks in the minds of tycoons?” she said sarcastically.

  “Easy, Victoria, or I might try one of my notorious, powerful bullying tactics on you,” he warned. Then, with a deep sigh, he explained as if to a child. “I wanted to get an interview with a girl, not stun her with money.”

  She giggled, and he joined her in laughter.

  “I admit, it was silly. But I didn’t know what else to do. My secretary told me I couldn’t even dress down properly.”

  “And she’s right.”

  They drove in relaxing silence until reaching Malibu, where Victoria became fascinated by the single row of houses beside the road, clinging to what had once been beach but was now nearly under water. Only the top floors were usually visible from the road, but when they turned a curve she could look back and see the glass fronts facing the rolling surf. Today the ocean was calm, but she wondered what it would look like when a storm was approaching.

  “Santa Barbara is further than Malibu, but the view from my home is just as good. You should see the ocean when a storm is brewing far out at sea. It reminds you that you’re a very minor part of nature’s grand plan.” He expressed her own thoughts out loud.

  She pushed closer to the door. The closeness of the interior of the car was making her jumpy. On top of all the problems that had arisen yesterday, she still had to deal with Kurt. Every time he was near her, her heart beat faster, her face reddened, her hands became clammy. It was as if she were allergic to him! Think of something else, she told herself, but since the alternatives were just as exhausting, she continued to concentrate on him.

  Kurt Morgan was the typical arrogant, powerful male from whom she had always sworn to stay far away. Good looks combined with money usually made men like him callous toward other people’s feelings, yet he seemed...different.

  Her skin warmed as she remembered how gently he had held her in his arms all night and she knew that, no matter what else Kurt was, he wasn’t callous.

  She steeled herself. But he was a womanizer! And somewhere, she’d bet he had a mistress! The guilt on his face had been plain to see yesterday. He hadn’t even bothered to deny it. She studied his strong profile, wondering how often he had to do the chasing. She’d put up her next paycheck that it wasn’t often. Women probably flocked to him like hungry birds to buttered breadcrumbs. It hurt unbelievably to think of him with another woman, but she forced herself to face the thought, almost as if it were a form of punishment for her sins. But if he had someone already, then why did he want her? Did he feel some sort of responsibility toward her? Her eyes narrowed. He wasn’t trying to get something on her father, was he?

  Without thinking she blurted out, “Just how well do you know my father?”

  “Not very,” he said calmly, as if he had been waiting for that very question. “We’ve met at various social functions.”

  “And that’s all?”

  “I spent the weekend at his home two years ago.” That stunned her. Despite her knowledge of his life, she had never thought of her father’s home as being anywhere but with her mother.

  One dark brow rose as he quickly eyed her pale complexion. “You’ve never been there?”

  “No. But I’m sure you gathered that from our meeting yesterday. I’m from the wrong half of the family, so to speak.”

  “That doesn’t stop a strong-willed girl from passing by the old homestead.”

  “Well, yes, I did once. But it was dark and all I saw was a long low ranch house surrounded by a wide expanse of lawn,” she admitted.

  “That’s just what it is. Only the family doesn’t live there as much as they used to, except for his daughter, Laurie.”

  “Where are they?”

  “I believe his wife spends most of her time in Washington, D.C. She can’t move around much, but in close quarters she’s quite the social butterfly.”

  “Can’t move around?”

  “She’s been confined to a wheelchair for the past ten years or so.”

  Her befogged brain was whirling again, striking out against her own ignorance. She had never wanted to know about that other family and had refused to read about them, to hear about them. Now she saw that her refusal had cost her dearly. It was too much to comprehend all at once. She laid her head back on the seat, closing her eyes in hopes that she would absorb all this before they reached their destination.

  Unconnected thoughts ran through her mind. She remembered the time she had broken a bone in her foot in a fall from a horse and for a solid week she had been in a wheelchair. The smallest things had irritated her; the fact that the front of the house had a step that she had never noticed until she tried to wheel herself out the door and fell; the sink was too high for her to get her own glass of water; everyone ex
cept her could play volleyball or dance on the patio or reach things on high shelves. She had had to have another pair of hands to do practically everything. But her father had been marvelous. He had spent the entire week at the house, talking, playing chess, making a game out of everything, including showing her the fundamentals of the stock market in the daily paper. Now she knew why she had seen a sadness in his eyes every time he had glanced at that chair. It explained so much.

  Ten years was a long time. But his wife’s illness had come after he had reentered her mother’s life. He had still done the unforgivable.

  A hand on her shoulder shook her lightly. Warm, tobacco-scented breath fanned her cheek. “Wake up, princess. We’re here,” Kurt whispered, inadvertently using the wrong words.

  “Don’t princess me,” she snapped, instantly awake at his use of her father’s pet name for her.

  “Sorry. Come on. It’s time we ate something. I’m starving and Mrs. Webb, my housekeeper, has a late lunch waiting.”

  It wasn’t until they were out of the car that Victoria had a chance to look around. The house was on the crest of a large, steep hill blanketed with ground-hugging plants that ran all the way down to the valley. It was stucco and redwood, contemporary in design, with enormous double entrance doors.

  Forgetting all her arguments against coming, Victoria followed him into the bright interior. The freeform entry extended directly into one of the largest living rooms Vicky had ever seen. She turned slowly, counting at least four different conversation areas, all taking full advantage of the glass walls that afforded a view of the bay and yacht basin.

  “Do you pay for that view by the square inch or by the panel?” she asked dryly.

  He chuckled. “Be nice and I may give you the plate-glass cost estimates for some light reading this evening.” He took her arm, his touch sending sparks shooting through her flesh as he guided her down the single step and into the large room. They turned right and moved down a wide hallway toward what was obviously a kitchen.

  “Hello, Mrs. Webb. Are we too late to do justice to your cooking?”

  A heavyset, dark-haired woman turned with a smile to greet them. “No, sir. It will be ready in five minutes.” She glanced at her watch as if to verity the time. It seemed that Kurt Morgan’s house was as organized as his business.

  “I’ll show Miss Brown to her room, then.” The placid, smiling housekeeper smiled again in token agreement before turning back to her space-age stove. Kurt silently led the way to the other side of the house, guiding her into a small library where a set of stairs reached to the upper level. “There are two bedrooms on this side and three on the other side of the house.” He spoke in a light, conversational tone, as if discussing the weather instead of the proximity of their sleeping arrangements.

  “Are you sure you have enough rooms?’ she replied sweetly as he pushed open the door.

  “I only need one, Victoria, when you’re around.

  It took her a minute to absorb his words; then a chill went down her spine as his meaning sank into her mind. She smiled sweetly. “In a sow’s ear!”

  He ignored her declaration as he walked to the window and opened the chocolate-brown drapes to reveal the most breathtaking view Vicky had ever seen. Unlike the living room, it looked out over the valley, but slightly to the right, on display like a panorama, she could see the lights of the bay. He opened the window and the scents of the sea drifted in, salty-fresh and clean.

  Vicky took a deep breath, filling her lungs with it “I love it.”

  She turned and looked over the room Kurt had given her. The carpet was a warm tan, the walls tan with white trim. The luxurious bedspread was the true eye catcher, though. It was a velvet patchwork quilt in shades of brown, accented with dark gold, and it covered an enormous bed. She stared at it then back up at Kurt. Visions she didn’t want to acknowledge danced in her head, bringing life to all her other senses; she remembered the smell of him, the feel of his skin under her palm…

  “It’s an extra-large king size. Six inches longer and wider than usual. I like lots of space to move around.” He could hardly keep the chuckle from his voice.

  “And I suppose you expect me to sleep there with you?” Her calves tightened in readiness to run. She eyed the distance to the door. She didn’t know where she would go, but she certainly wasn’t staying here! What was the matter with her? She had just blithely gone off with a liar and a cheat to become the very thing she had hated all her life! She must have been temporarily insane!

  He smiled slowly. “If that’s an invitation, then I accept. If it isn’t, then I’ll just sleep in my room, next door. But it will have to be one or the other, Victoria. I won’t spend another night holding you close to me and not being allowed to touch. I’m not made of iron when it comes to you.” His voice dropped to a husky tone, his eyes warming to blaze over her slim body as he took in her frightened doe-like appearance. “Either way. Your choice. All right?” His mouth quirked into a teasing smile, bringing out the small laugh lines at the comers of his eyes.

  Suddenly she let out the breath she had been holding, a sheepish grin replacing her fright. “Thank you,” she said softly.

  He was suddenly serious once more. “I want you very much, but I won’t push you. You know that. When you feel you can admit that you want me just as much, then come to me. Tell me, Victoria. Don’t be lonely just because you’re afraid of the alternative.” He gave a small sad smile. “There may be more alternatives than you know.”

  Her shoulders slumped in relief. She hadn’t even known she was that tense, but apparently Kurt had seen it. She felt relieved he could understand her hesitancy.

  By the time Victoria finished a delicious lunch she was so tired that her head was drooping. Kurt followed her to her room, tucked her in with a chaste kiss and closed the curtains and door softly, then went downstairs, where he paced the length of the living room, his head bowed, his hands in his pockets. He had to face a few facts himself.

  He couldn’t keep the image of Victoria’s laughing face from intruding on his thoughts. Her teasing eyes seemed to stare back at him from the depths of the carpet. Her impish smile sought to catch his eye from the shine on the toe of his shoe. She had been so joyous, so full of life that evening she’d taught him the fun of video games. He smiled to himself. He had never had such a cheap date. The entire evening hadn’t cost what cocktails would have run with Julie, whose reaction when he had told her that things were over had left him in no doubt that his money, not his personality, had been the big attraction for her.

  Until last night he hadn’t given a thought to not continuing his relationship with Victoria. She was bright, eager for life, fun and totally giving, without seeking something in return.

  Then Senator Branden had shown up and Kurt had become enmeshed in a conflict he knew little about. He felt as if he was now the pawn for Victoria’s fantasy of revenge against her very powerful father. Damn! He never should have gotten involved. He was wise enough to see trouble heading in his direction like a missile and should have stayed clear of this particular brand. He usually chose women without expectations, because he certainly had none. He must be slipping.

  He had followed through with his secretary, Margie’s suggestion for the fun of it. He’d been behind the desk too long and was suddenly seeking a change — any change that would take him out of the routine he’d set for himself.

  But never in a million years had he expected to find a date in a want ad and meet a woman like Victoria. And if he had expected someone like her, it would have been beyond his wildest imaginings to see himself so drawn to someone so opposite in tastes and lifestyle. He had never believed that opposites attracted. Indeed, he still didn’t, but he did know that if she left his life right now there would be a hole, a gap, a chasm that he wasn’t sure he could fill. If she left, how long would it take him to replace her? Could she be replaced? He didn’t want to hazard a guess. He had allowed himself to become emotionally involved with her
and her problems, and that was usually the kiss of death to a relationship. But not in this case. Instead, he felt protective of her. He wanted to shield her from everything and everyone who could hurt her, including her own father. It was a new feeling for him, one that sat very uncomfortably on his chaotic thoughts.

  So, now what? He wanted her; that was obvious, he was responding like a colt around his first mare. He enjoyed her company; that was a fact. She was forever surprising and delighting him; that she had proven.

  And she would not live with him or allow him to care for her.

  Why did it matter so much? In this day of easy sex and go about your business type of relationships, he thought he wanted a commitment? He didn’t even know her that well. It made no sense. Besides, he’d always told himself there was no love at first sight. No compelling response to a woman other than sexual.

  The answer was there — all he had to do was say it. His mouth clamped shut He couldn’t, he wouldn’t take the chance. There would only be pain in it—for both of them.

  He rubbed the back of his now-stiff neck, stopping to stare out the window. Then he came to a decision.

  He would see her through this difficult time, move her into the townhouse and set up the lease with his lawyer so that it would all be aboveboard. Then, slowly, he would bow out of her life for both their sakes. If, while he was helping her rearrange her life, she happened to feel like sharing her bed with him…then fine. If not, then he would take cold showers, and then find someone else. There was always another willing woman in the wings.

  With that decision made and his life once more in order and under control, he should have felt better. Instead he felt only a tearing emptiness when he thought of Victoria’s bright smile, her trusting tears, her quick mind and the joy he had felt in sharing her bed. What he needed, he thought, laughing mirthlessly was an icy-cold shower — now.