Notorious

by Iris Johansen

  “That’s for sure. So do I. What shall we do instead?”

  “We’ll do nothing. Your services as court jester are officially at an end, Carey.” She turned on her heel. “I’m going for a little walk in the desert.”

  He frowned. “Walk in the desert? Why not stay in the garden. You can’t walk in this heat.”

  “Believe me, the temperature isn’t what’s making me hot under the collar. I’m going to Marasef.”

  His eyes widened in alarm. “You can’t do that.”

  “The hell I can’t. I’m tired of being sweet, placid Mallory. It’s time I acted, instead of reacted.”

  “Don’t do anything foolish. I don’t—Lord, I wish I could help you.”

  “I wish you could too. But since you can’t, I’ll just have to help myself.” She walked away from him down the path.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Sabin rode the brake, and the Jeep coasted beside her.

  She didn’t look at him as she trudged down the road, her gaze on the dunes shimmering on the horizon. “What does it look like? I’m going to Marasef. Go back to the house, Sabin.”

  “Not until you go with me. For Lord’s sake, I couldn’t believe it when Carey told me you’d just calmly decided to leave Kandrahan. It’s almost a hundred degrees out here.” He jammed on the brake and jumped out of the Jeep. “Do you want to undo all the progress you’ve made in the past three weeks?”

  She kept on walking. “I’m wearing a hat and desert boots.” She gestured to the two straps crisscrossing her breasts. “And carrying two canteens. The walk won’t hurt me.”

  “How do you know?” He gripped her shoulders and spun her around to face him, his eyes squinting against the white hot glare of the sunlight as he looked down at her. “And how are you supposed to find your way to Marasef?”

  “Just follow the yellow brick road,” she said flippantly.

  “This isn’t Oz. You could die out here.”

  “I won’t die, and I will go to Marasef.” She gazed directly into his eyes. “Count on it. Dammit, I don’t want to be here!”

  His gaze narrowed on her face. “You’re upset.”

  “How perceptive of you. Don’t be an idiot. Of course I’m upset,” she said in exasperation. “Upset, helpless, and fed up. How do you expect me to feel?”

  “I don’t know.” His lips twisted. “I’ve been too busy trying to make some sense out of how I feel to try to second-guess you.” His brow furrowed in a frown. “Okay. Let’s deal.”

  She looked at him warily.

  “It’s almost four o’clock now. Come back and spend the rest of the day and evening with me, and I’ll take you to Marasef tomorrow morning.” He saw her wary expression and shook his head. “I don’t mean in bed unless you decide you want to be there.” He paused. “Though it’s only fair to warn you, I’m going to do my damnedest to persuade you to let me make love to you.”

  She hesitated.

  “Persuade, not force,” he said softly. “Only half a day. Then ‘Hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to Marasef we go.’”

  “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs,” she said absently, but her gaze was uncertain.

  “And I promise not to tempt you with a poison apple.”

  “I was thinking more on the lines of the apple of knowledge the serpent offered Eve in the Garden of Eden.” A sudden smile lit her face. “There’s definitely a comparison there.”

  “Not really.” His hands kneaded her shoulders, and she was reminded of those many hours in his bed when his big hands had soothed and petted her. “You’ve already tasted the apple and found it to your liking.”

  “I have no intention of tasting it again.”

  “Intentions sometimes alter with circumstances. Deal?”

  She was silent a moment. His smile was as gentle as the ones he had given her each afternoon when she had nestled in his arms, and yet he was giving her few promises this time. She should refuse this bargain. If she pushed a little more, she might still achieve the total victory she had sought when she left Kandrahan. Yet following that discreet path filled her with an odd reluctance. She had shared too much with Sabin Wyatt in the last weeks to want to end their relationship with anger. In many ways she respected and admired him more than any man she had ever known. Perhaps if she gave them both the opportunity, there might be some way they could forge a tentative friendship.

  And she desperately wanted that chance, she suddenly realized. “Deal.”

  A brilliant smile lit his face. “Great. Let’s get you back to Kandrahan and out of this sun.” He took her elbow and propelled her toward the Jeep. “You know, you’re turning out to be a very surprising lady. I thought I could gauge your reactions, but I never imagined you’d give in to impulse and pull a crazy stunt like this.”

  A small smile tugged at her lips. “Didn’t you?”

  He shook his head as he lifted her into the passenger seat of the Jeep. “I didn’t think you’d let all that calm, cool reasoning be blown away by emotion.”

  “You never know about people, do you?”

  “Let me take those canteens for you. The straps must be cutting into your shoulders. You look like a guerrilla fighter wearing a banderole of bullets.”

  “If you like.” She pulled the straps of the two canteens over her head and handed the containers to him. “Though they’re not at all heavy.”

  “They have to be. They’re two quart—” He broke off as he weighed the canteens in his hands. “Good Lord, they’re—”

  “Empty.” She nodded serenely. “I didn’t see any sense in burdening myself too heavily when I might have to walk awhile. I wasn’t sure when Carey would get around to telling you I was leaving.”

  He gazed at her blankly. “A setup.”

  “Why should I be the only one to be manipulated?” She smiled. “You see, I’ve been studying you for the last few weeks, too, Sabin. You’re not as hard as you think you are. I knew you wouldn’t let me run the risk of hurting myself even if it meant giving up what you wanted.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  “I hope not. Though I admit I was fervently wishing that state on you this morning.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “I love it.” A smile lingered on his lips as he strode around the Jeep and jumped into the driver’s seat. He gave her a sidewise glance that held amusement, respect, and challenge. “It’s your game, Mallory, but one of these days you’re going to forget all about reason and act purely on emotion.”

  “Perhaps.” Her own smile faded as she watched him start and reverse the Jeep. By compromising and returning to Kandrahan, she was very much afraid she was already acting purely on an emotional level. The burst of contentment and anticipation exploding within her as she thought about this last night was too intense to mistake.

  “Did you wear that for me?” Sabin’s gaze went over Mallory slowly, lingering on her bare shoulders framed by the violet chiffon gown.

  “It’s only polite to try to please one’s host.” Mallory avoided his stare as she came into the salon. “This is my last night here, and you said you liked violet.”

  “I do.” He held out her glass of white wine. “Thank you.”

  “Where’s Carey this evening?” Mallory carefully avoided looking at Sabin as she sipped her wine.

  “I told him to make himself scarce.” One corner of Sabin’s lips lifted in a lopsided smile. “In my usual diplomatic fashion.”

  “I hope you weren’t rude to him.”

  “Carey’s used to me. I assure you he’s not sulking in his room. He knows this may be my last chance to be alone with you at Kandrahan.”

  She felt the same poignant pang of sadness she had experienced this afternoon. “It will be strange leaving here. These weeks have been very restful.”

  He chuckled. “Do you know how weird that sounds? I tricked you into coming here, took your virginity, and forced you into staying another three weeks. You should be seething with resentment.”
>
  “I’m not good at resentment or anger,” she said lightly. “I believe it’s better to try to understand than to beat my fists bloody fighting.”

  His smile faded. “I know. You have the sweetest nature of any man, woman, or child I’ve ever encountered.”

  She was embarrassed. “Nonsense.”

  He shook his head. “I couldn’t believe it either.” He looked down at the wine in his glass. “I didn’t want to believe it. It disturbs me.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Because I suppose your vulnerability roused any tatters of chivalry that remained in me.”

  “I think you may be more chivalrous than you think,” she said quietly. “You’ve been very kind to me since that first night.”

  “Ah, but that’s because I wanted to chain you to me in all the ways there are.” He lifted his glass to his lips. “You should know by now that kindness isn’t one of my more salient qualities.”

  And he had succeeded in chaining her, she realized suddenly. Why else had she been torn between wanting her freedom and maintaining some kind of bond with Sabin. “You’re not as calculated as you pretend.” She put her glass on the table beside her. “Isn’t it time to go in to dinner?”

  “Not yet.” He set his own glass down and grasped her wrist. “I want you to come to the library with me.”

  She stiffened. “Why?”

  He was pulling her toward the door. “Are you getting a flash of déjà vu? Don’t worry. I’m not stupid enough to try a repeat performance of that first night.” He propelled her down the hall and threw open the door of the library. A small fire burned in the fireplace, casting a cozy glow over the book-lined room. Sabin didn’t bother to turn on the lights as he released her wrist and closed the door. “They’re on the mantel.”

  “What?”

  He strode across the room toward the fireplace. “Come on. Let’s get it over with.”

  She frowned in puzzlement as she slowly followed him across the room.

  He turned and gestured to the mantel as she reached the hearth. “Burn them.”

  Her gaze turned to the six black boxes stacked neatly on the mantel. She went still. “The tapes?”

  He nodded. “I could have done it, but I thought you’d rather do it yourself. You’ll feel better if you know they’re destroyed.”

  “Yes.” She moved a step closer to stand before the fire, feeling the caress of heat through the sheer chiffon of her gown. “I told you that you were kinder than you believe. Why else would you do this for me?”

  “I don’t need them any longer. They’d only disappoint me.” He met her gaze. “They were only erotic dreams. Dreams are as dry as dust after you’ve tasted the reality.”

  A wave of heat moved through her that had nothing to do with the blazing logs in the hearth. She could feel her breasts swell and the muscles of her stomach clench, as memories tumbled back to her. She reached hurriedly for the first tape and threw it into the fire. The blaze flared as the plastic entered the flames.

  “You’d better throw them all into the fire at one time.” Sabin grimaced. “That plastic burning is going to smell terrible.”

  “I know. I burned the originals, remember?” She threw the five remaining tapes into the fire and stood looking down at them. “Thank you, Sabin.”

  “You persist in thinking I’m being generous,” he said roughly. “I wanted those damn tapes destroyed as much as you did. I hate the thought of Ben behind the camera taking those pictures. It used to eat into me like acid.”

  “Then why did you look at them?” she asked haltingly, her gaze on the fire.

  “You,” he said simply. “It was the only way I could have you.”

  He stood two feet away from her, but she felt as if he were touching her, stroking her as he had that night. She felt a tingling between her thighs, in her palms, even in the arches of her feet.

  “I used to fantasize how you’d feel around me,” he said thickly. “How you’d move, the sounds you’d make. How you’d smile at me.”

  She turned abruptly away from the fire. “I think it’s definitely time we went in to dinner.” She started across the room toward the door, her gaze deliberately avoiding the leather chaise lounge as she passed it. “I’m hungry.”

  “So am I.”

  Sabin’s soft words rang clear in the room behind her. She tried to ignore the double entendre as she opened the door, but she found her hand was trembling on the knob.

  Though she had heard no sound, Sabin was suddenly beside her at the door. “There’s no use trying to run away from it,” he said quietly. “Lord knows, I’ve tried since the first moment I saw you at the premiere. What’s between us won’t go away, and it won’t let us go.” He bowed mockingly as he gestured for her to precede him. “Time may well lessen it and familiarity dull it, but we don’t know that yet, do we?”

  Pain seared through her at the cynicism in his tone. She knew he had no faith in lasting relationships. Why did his words hurt her?

  An answer leapt to her mind with stunning swiftness, the same thought that had occurred to her once before. Again she instantly rejected it before it could become more than a fleeting impression. No, she wouldn’t believe anything so outlandish and dangerous.

  She didn’t answer his question as she passed through the doorway leaving both the burning tapes and the disturbing memories behind her.

  Sabin may have permitted the memories to be laid to rest, but he had no intention of allowing her to lessen the sexual awareness crackling between them. Although the conversation was desultory and casual during dinner and coffee afterward, Sabin’s demeanor was not. He was charged with the same raw sensual intensity she had first noticed in the courtroom and that first night at Kandrahan. Now, as then, she found herself drawn mothlike toward its burning glow.

  But she mustn’t be drawn to him, she thought desperately. Everything that was sensible and practical in her character shouted at the folly of becoming involved with Sabin Wyatt.

  But wasn’t she already involved? He had dominated her thoughts as well as her life for the past three weeks. How was she to cast him out now?

  “Stop frowning,” Sabin said roughly as he set his coffee cup down in the saucer with a clatter. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  She looked at him, startled. He had been talking about his friend Alex Ben Raschid, and these words had come out of nowhere.

  He pushed back his chair and stood up. “Come for a walk in the garden.”

  “I’m tired. I think I’ll—”

  He wasn’t listening. He was already at the French doors leading to the garden. “Come on, I’ve had enough of this waltzing.”

  She slowly rose to her feet, her heart pounding hard, erratically. “I can’t imagine you waltzing. It wouldn’t suit you at all,” she said with an effort at lightness. “Perhaps a vigorous polka like the one in The King and I but not—” She broke off as she remembered the underlying sensuality in that dance between the King of Siam and his Anna, but it was too late. She could see by the arrested expression on Sabin’s face that he too recognized the similarity.

  “Oh, yes.” He held out his hand. “We both know what’s been going on tonight. I’m not good at hiding my feelings, and you’ve been getting more nervous by the minute. Let’s clear that up right now.”

  She moved slowly toward him. “I’m not nervous.” Breathless, excited, afraid … but not nervous. His hand reached out and grasped her own, and she felt a charge of feeling electrify her.

  He felt her stiffen and nodded. “Wrong word,” he said thickly. He pulled her out into the garden, lacing their fingers together as they walked down the path. “Is it too cool for you?”

  “No.” She was burning. Sabin’s fingers laced through hers felt outrageously intimate, as if he’d made her part of his own body as he had when he had thrust his—“It’s odd how cool it gets at night in the desert, but tonight it’s warm. I remember—”

  “I won’t hurt you,” he interr
upted, not looking at her. “I … care about you. Even if I make love to you, I won’t turn into the Marquis de Sade.”

  “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “We’ve got to talk about it. I’ll treat you very well. I’ll take care of you. I’ll give you anything you want.”

  She stiffened. “I don’t want anything from you.”

  “Lord, I know that. I’m saying all the wrong things.” He looked down at their joined hands. “Can’t you feel it? This is right.”

  She did feel it, and it frightened her. She felt as if she were being swept away from all order and safety. “For me to become your mistress? Being a courtesan isn’t one of my ambitions.”

  “For you to belong to me.” He stopped on the path, his bold features harsh, strained in the moonlight. “Lord, Mallory, stop fighting it.” He framed her face in his hands and looked down at her. “I’ll be so good to you. I’ll take such good care of you. Give me a chance. Don’t go away from me.”

  Tenderness rose in her, sunlight warm, achingly sweet. All through his childhood people had left Sabin, passing in and out of his life, leaving him guarded. His fingers were moving over her face, caressing her throat, and the tenderness merged with desire. She instinctively threw back her throat to invite more of his touch.

  He went still. “Mallory?” His hands closed gently around her throat, manacling her as he had that first night. “Yes?”

  Dear heavens, what was she thinking about? She had been swept into one disastrous marriage by emotion, and she was allowing herself to be caught up again. She wasn’t tough enough to take on Sabin Wyatt. He would destroy her, turn her inside out, make her—

  His mouth was covering her own, coaxing her lips apart for his tongue. “Say yes,” he muttered. “Say yes, Mallory.”

  His big body was trembling against her, and it was that sign of vulnerability more than the lust searing through her at his touch that brought surrender.

  Her arms slid around his shoulders. “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Lord.” The word was a groan, deep in his throat. His arms crushed her to him, his mouth hot, working as he pressed kisses on her face and throat. “You won’t regret … I need you so.” He lifted his head. “Now.” He was pulling her down the path away from the palace.