by Joan Hohl
He ran a comprehensive glance over her torso. “I believe you.” His shrug was casual. “So eat what you like and leave the rest.”
Karla detested food waste, but under the circumstances, she was left with little choice. Since she had, however unconsciously, created the situation, she accepted it with a sigh, and draped her napkin over her lap.
The flow of conversation was slow and awkward as they began the meal, and Karla started out by picking at her food. Then, gradually, the tempo increased, in both consumption and communication, and she found herself enjoying every morsel she popped into her mouth. Jared asked the question that turned the mundane table talk into a viable discussion.
“How much of Arizona have you seen?”
Karla finished chewing a tender piece of beef before replying with a sigh, “Very little, I’m afraid. I landed in Phoenix and drove to Sedona, but most of my attention was centered on the highway, so I noticed little of the passing scenery.” She brightened. “But I did drive miles out of the way to enter Oak Creek Canyon via the scenic route from Flagstaff.” As did her friends two days before, she recalled.
“And since you’ve been in Sedona?” he inquired, slicing a bite-size piece from his charbroiled steak.
Karla sipped at her drink. “Well, I toured the town fairly thoroughly while searching out a location for the gallery, but things got pretty frantic while I was getting the place ready for the opening, so I had precious little time to do much sight-seeing.” He opened his mouth to comment, but she quickly added, “I did explore the courtyards with the surrounding galleries, shops, and restaurants in Flaque-paque though.”
Jared’s fork paused midway between his mouth and his plate. “You haven’t been to the Chapel of the Holy Cross?” Incredulity shaded his tone.
“Oh, yes.” Karla laughed. “Anne, my assistant, dragged me there the day after I hired her.”
“And?”
“And I was impressed, of course,” she admitted readily. “I mean, who wouldn’t be impressed? It isn’t every day that one comes across a clean-lined, austerely designed chapel set among jutting rocks at the very base of a towering cliff.”
Jared chuckled in appreciation of her vivid description, and suddenly positive she could become addicted to the sound of his laughter, Karla finished off her margarita to quench her recently acquired raging thirst.
“Another?” Jared inclined his head to indicate the empty glass.
“Why not?” Karla replied on impulse.
“So your sight-seeing has been limited to the immediate area,” he mused, raising his hand to summon the waiter.
“Umm,” Karla concurred absently, giving her attention to scooping the last of the potato from the skin.
“Amazing.”
Karla popped the forkful of potato into her mouth before raising puzzled eyes to his. “Pardon?” she mumbled.
Having captured the waiter’s attention, Jared motioned for fresh drinks for both of them. He shrugged as he turned his attention to her. “I find it amazing that you are presuming to present and sell artwork depicting a region you have not visited,” he explained.
Torn between laughter and astonishment, Karla just stared at him for several seconds. “I have never been to the moon, either,” she said tauntingly when she finally found her voice. “Yet I wouldn’t hesitate to present and sell an artist’s conception of it”
“Good point,” Jared conceded, then proceeded to demolish her argument. “But it has one flaw: Short of signing on for some future expedition to the moon, you have no choice but to accept an artist’s concept of it.” His smile returned her taunt in triplicate. “Whereas, in regard to modern western art, you are smack-dab in the middle of your subject You do yourself and your customer a disfavor by your failure to initiate a personal exploration of it”
He was right. It galled Karla to admit it, even to herself, but he was right. Annoyed more by having Jared point out her professional oversight than by the oversight itself, Karla speared her fork into the last remaining sliver of meat. As she methodically chewed the beef, she concluded that, as much as she disliked having him criticize her, she would have to admit that he had a point.
“Okay. I give up. “You win,” she said with enforced good humor. “I will make it my personal mission to explore the modern West and all its art forms.”
“When?”
The arrival of the waiter at the table with their drinks spared Karla the ignominy of completely losing her composure and shouting at Jared to mind his own business. She simmered while the man inquired if they would care for dessert, and shook her head sharply in the negative when Jared asked her if she’d like coffee. Jared’s quirked eyebrow brought her to her senses.
“I’ll go exploring when I have the time,” she said reasonably, smiling at the waiter when he thanked them for their patronage.
Adding his own response, and a more than generous tip, Jared waited until the waiter walked away before saying flatly, “Take the time.”
Karla was stunned and more than a trifle angered by his directive. “Look,” she said tightly. “There are less than two weeks until Thanksgiving, and in case you’ve forgotten, after Thanksgiving comes Christmas.” She paused to gulp a quick swallow of her fresh drink. “I hope ... plan, to do a brisk business during the weeks before Christmas. I can’t afford to go sight-seeing at this time.” Positive she’d made her position clear, she sat back and smiled at him.
Jared didn’t return her smile; he pointed out the error in her reasoning. “On the contrary,” he corrected. “During the busy weeks before Christmas you will need all the expertise you can acquire. Therefore, you can’t afford not to go at this particular time.”
Checkmate.
Karla wanted to scream. Or laugh. Or cry. Instead, she did some fast and serious thinking. If Jared’s argument was valid, she could possibly double the holiday sales she was hoping for and, in consequence, not only establish herself firmly in the business community but pare away a large chunk out of her debts. Either result would be worth the time away from the gallery, but both ...
Karla sat up abruptly. “Would it be possible to acquire this expertise, say, between now and Thanksgiving?” she asked thoughtfully. Only later did Karla realize that the satisfied curve to his smile really should have warned her.
“With a well-informed guide,” he replied smoothly. “Yes, I think it would be possible.”
Having missed the warning sign, Karla walked into the trap. “Can you recommend a well-informed guide?”
Jared’s smile deepened. “Yes.”
Karla didn’t notice. “Is he very expensive?”
“Not at all.”
She reached for her handbag to rummage through it for a pen and paper, and missed the crinkle of laugh lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth. “Will you give me his name and address?” she asked, pen poised to record the information.
“Certainly.” Jared’s voice was bone dry. “His name is Jared Cradowg and he lives at—” He paused when the pen dropped from her hand. “Is something wrong?” he asked innocently, smiling into her scowling face.
“Not something,” she snapped. “Everything’s wrong. Starting with you this morning, and ending with you right now.” Convinced he was amusing himself at her expense, and inexplicably hurt because of it, Karla found herself fighting a desperate need to weep. “If you’re quite finished,” she continued in a suspiciously husky voice, “I’d like to go home now.” Moving carefully, as if afraid she’d shatter with any undue haste, she began to slide her chair away from the table.
“Karla, I am dead serious.”
The sincerity in Jared’s low voice halted her action. Her hands gripping the chair, Karla gazed up at him. “About what?” she ridiculed. “Being my guide or becoming my lover?”
“Both,” he admitted bluntly. “But I’ll begin by introducing you to the splendor of the West and, I hope, end by introducing you to the delights of the flesh.”
Karla gasped, then blush
ed, then laughed. “You don’t pull your punches, do you?”
Jared laughed with her. “Never.” He raised his eyebrows. “Well, what’s it to be? Are you feeling adventurous—or are you going to give in to fear and run away and hide from me?”
In truth, Karla wanted to run for her life. But he had issued a challenge, thrown down the gauntlet, as it were. Studying his chiseled features, she weighed her decision with the same amount of care with which she weighed the value of every piece of work she accepted for display in her gallery. Yet, when she answered, Karla wasn’t sure which of them was more surprised.
“You’re on.”
* * *
Chapter 4
She had to be out of her tiny mind! Whatever had possessed her to accept Jared’s challenge?
The back-to-back thoughts leaped into Karla’s mind at the same instant she closed and locked her apartment door. Deep into contemplation, she absently hung her cape in the closet. A frown wrinkling her brow, she nibbled on her lip as she wandered into her bedroom.
What sort of game was Jared playing?
Karla slowly undressed as she examined the query. Considering his ardor in the gallery that morning, and again in her living room earlier that evening, in addition to his repeated assurances that they would be lovers, she had nervously anticipated a renewal of his efforts during the short drive back to her apartment after they left the restaurant. Yet, strangely, Jared’s behavior had been scrupulously circumspect. Not only had he said very little, he hadn’t so much as attempted to kiss her good night!
In retrospect, Karla was quickly coming to the conclusion that she had walked into a neatly laid trap. She knew intuitively that Jared hadn’t abandoned his stated intention of having a love affair with her, but had simply altered his tactics.
Speculating on what his new tactics might be, Karla prepared for bed, automatically performing her nightly rituals of applying a facial mask, then soaking in a warm bath while the goo tightened on her face. The process should have been soothing; it usually worked, relaxing her for sleep ... This night it failed.
Karla wasn’t soothed. She wasn’t relaxed. She was restless and edgy and wide awake. Her neatly made bed held no appeal; she skirted around it as she prowled the confines of her room. She let her thoughts dart in all directions, in a frantic attempt to avoid confronting the central issue—that being her own incredible response to Jared.
But eventually weariness and irrefutable fact caught up with her. Sighing in defeat, Karla shrugged out of her robe and crawled between the smooth, cool sheets. After settling in, she shut her eyes. She didn’t want to think, didn’t want to remember, didn’t want to face her own physical and emotional betrayal. Seeking a means of escape, she wanted, longed for, the oblivion of sleep.
It was not to be. Five months of driving herself without mercy had marked her. She was hyper, wired, too tired to unwind naturally. At intervals, her mind drifted in a pleasant daze; then, with a start, she’d awaken, her heart thumping, her lips hot and dry, her breasts tingling, and her body aching with emptiness.
It had been so long, so very long a time since Karla had known the fullness of a man ... and even then it had not been a satisfying fullness. Memory stirred, and she winced.
Louis.
She moved her head restlessly on her pillow. Karla had banished the memory of Louis and the one-sided relationship they’d had. She didn’t want to recall the time she’d spent with him, didn’t want to remember how young and gullible she’d been. But Karla was tired, too tired to maintain her vigilance at the gates of remembrance. Groaning in protest, she shut her eyes. In flashing and painful color, the memories flooded her exhausted mind.
Karla had been eighteen and a freshman in college when she met Louis at an impromptu get-to-known-one-another party in the off-campus home of a classmate. Because of their mutual interest in art, her friend had introduced Karla to Louis, invited them to help themselves to the drinks and food, then had left them to fend for themselves.
Louis fended for himself very well.
Within three weeks of their first date, two days after the party, Louis had talked her into going to bed with him by the simple method of convincing her she was in love with him. The experience of physical initiation had not been an enjoyable one for Karla. Louis had confidently assured her that it would get better with practice, and as he was already a senior and three years older than she, Karla believed him. Yet, even with practice, it never did get better.
But, being young and believing she was in love, Karla eagerly tried to make up for—in Louis’s opinion—her inability to give herself freely to the magnitude of the experience.
Though hesitant at first, she finally gave in to his plea to move into his studio flat. Then, although she knew they couldn’t afford it, she gave in to his persuasive plea to move to a larger apartment. Soon she gave in to his next argument: Since he was in his senior year and therefore his studies were more important than hers, she should take fewer classes and work part-time to supplement their student loans. Before long, giving in to Louis’s cleverly worded suggestions became a habit. And so, when he looked at her soulfully one afternoon and told her with a deep sigh that they needed still more money, Karla dropped out of school altogether to work full-time.
Dangling the carrot of his promise of future marriage in front of her, Louis kept her running for close to two years, straight through his graduation and into the first year of his postgraduate study. But he had miscalculated about one very important thing: Louis confidently believed he could keep Karla gullible for as long as it suited his purposes.
But though Karla was young, she was definitely not stupid. And though she no longer attended classes, she was receiving the equivalent of a doctorate in human nature as a full-fledged member of the working class. She earned an excellent salary that evaporated like smoke, blown away by the rent and the utilities and the paints and supplies and food that Louis consumed with the voracious appetite of a teenager.
As the second anniversary of their being together approached, and there was still no gold band on her left ring finger, Karla examined her life, her heart, and her soul and came to an enlightening, though painful conclusion.
Louis was not in love with her. She had been a convenience to his well-being and comfort. He had used her without compunction. Surprisingly, the realization didn’t hurt as much as it should have. What inflicted the deepest hurt inside Karla was acknowledging the fact that, not only was she not in love with him, she had willingly allowed herself to be used. When she walked away from him, leaving behind everything she had worked so hard to provide for them, Karla carried a vow never to allow herself to be used by anyone, ever again.
The years that followed the breakup had not been easy. By working long hours, and limiting herself to only the bare necessities, Karla had paid off the debts she had accrued while living with Louis. Then she began saving, ferreting away the funds she needed to return to college for her degree. During her college years, she continued to work part-time. To save money, she had given up her precious privacy to share an apartment with two young women she met soon after arriving on campus. The three of them had been drawn together because they were of the same age and in the same financial circumstances. And although Karla despaired over many of the decisions she had made, she never regretted joining forces with Alycia and Andrea.
There had been moments, many in number, when loneliness caught her unaware and she had felt a gnawing need for something or someone. She got through those moments by sheer willpower and unremitting dedication to her goals: getting her degree and owning her own gallery. Despite the hard work involved, and the debts incurred, Karla was satisfied with her life.
And now another man wanted to use her for his own purposes.
That knowledge alone normally would not have bothered Karla; a variety of men over the years had wanted her for a variety of reasons. No, what kept her sleepless and restless was the acknowledgment of her own body’s sudden clamoring de
mands for appeasement.
Karla didn’t need the complication of a man in her life, and yet she had elected to accept Jared’s challenge by agreeing to let him act as her guide and instructor on a sight-seeing jaunt around Arizona and parts west and unknown. And considering her quivering senses and aching body—never mind the hot, melting sensation she experienced at the mere sight of Jared Cradowg—she could see no way of getting through two weeks alone with him without succumbing to her own as well as his obvious desire.
At some subconscious level, had she deliberately agreed to go with Jared because she secretly wanted his “inevitable” affair to happen? The speculation sent molten heat searing through Karla, causing a tremor in her thighs and a tightness in her breasts.
Dammit, she wanted him! And why shouldn’t she have him? She had known the lovemaking of one man only, and she was nearly twenty-seven years old! Why shouldn’t she have him ... if only for two short weeks?
The inner heat slowly cooled as she argued with herself, and rationality returned. The price of indulging herself with Jared could prove to be very high in the coin of emotional injury. Sitting up in the rumpled bed, Karla shook her head and muttered her earlier thought out loud. “No doubt about it, you are out of your tiny mind.”
Startled by the ragged sound of her own voice, Karla laughed aloud and raised her hand to her mouth to muffle a sleepy yawn. Her eyes felt gritty, her eyelids heavy. Suddenly the tension drained from her, leaving her limp. With another wider yawn, she snuggled back under the covers.
She had resolved nothing by raking up the past or speculating on the future, but as she floated in a delicious warmth in the nether regions between wakefulness and sleep, Karla didn’t care. She was comfortable. She was relaxed. She’d forget the past and let the future take care of itself.
With yet another yawn, Karla curled into her favorite sleep position. Her eyes drifted closed. A smile of contentment feathered her mouth. Then a nagging memory sprang into her mind: his grandfather!