by Joan Hohl
Less than ten minutes—and in some cases a good deal less than ten minutes—was required to complete one of the most physically and emotionally draining exercises known to animals, human and otherwise.
The droll thought brought a wry twist to Karla’s mouth, and she chided herself for attempting to dodge the issue with fractiousness. But on deeper reflection, she wondered if the spontaneous observation had hit the mark dead center of her problem.
Frowning, Karla carefully picked through her thoughts, connecting them like a child’s dot-to-dot puzzle into a discernible pattern. The picture that emerged was not so much that of an insouciant male-female game as it was a battle between the sexes. And, she mused grimly, in this instance “sex” was definitely the operative word.
Though Karla wasn’t comfortable with the realization, she had to acknowledge that sexual awareness had crackled between her and Jared from the first words they’d exchanged. For all her denials, she knew that the lure of attraction between them had grown stronger with each encounter.
With a rueful sigh, Karla realized that no matter how adroitly she tried to sidestep the truth, it persisted in staring her in the face and stinging her mind.
The attraction—or chemistry or any other euphemism she could dredge up—was nothing more, and a great deal less, than sheer sexual awareness ... desire ... hunger... lust.
“No!”
Shoving her chair back, Karla made a last-ditch effort to deny the obvious by running from it. Angrily slapping at the light switch as she rushed by, she fled to her bedroom. But she could not outrun her thoughts.
Desire.
Hunger.
Lust.
The words wreaked havoc with Karla’s mind. She had worked too hard, come too far in her determination never again to be vulnerable to any man to surrender without a fight... even if her opponent was herself.
Massaging the tension pain in the back of her neck, Karla paced the floor, bombarding herself with questions, raking her abused mind for answers,
What was she to do?
Apply intellect to matter.
How was she to proceed?
In a cool, detached manner.
Why had she agreed to go on a sightseeing trip with him?
Because he charged her battery.
And mere it was—the bald, unvarnished truth. Although Karla didn’t particularly like it, she realized she had little choice but to accept it. Now all she had to do was decide how to handle the situation.
Beginning to sway from weariness, Karla slipped out of her robe and into bed. The sheets had grown cold. She shivered, then had to smile at the whimsical thought that swam into her head: She’d be a lot better off if the bed had remained warm and she had grown cold.
But she hadn’t, at least, not for very long.
Wincing, Karla shifted uneasily. The chill of withdrawal she had felt steal over her mind and senses on hearing about Jared’s reputation for ruthlessness, especially in his use of women, had rapidly changed to melting pliancy and eager participation when she was exposed to the fire of his lovemaking.
Recalling the heat of Jared’s blaze, Karla felt herself go all soft and warm inside, outside. Suddenly the bed wasn’t cold at all. Her eyes closed slowly as memory stirred, recreating the sensations she’d experienced while locked within Jared’s embrace. She stretched her arms up over her head, and her legs moved sinuously. The friction of the sheets against her skin brought an image of Jared’s hands, stroking, caressing her thighs. Her chest heaved in a deep, longing sigh. The sound of her expelled breath shattered her reverie.
Her eyes popped open and she groaned aloud in self-disgust. What was she doing?
Karla had always been too busy, or too bullheaded—she had never questioned which—to engage in flights of fancy or sexual fantasies about the ideal male. And now, to find herself heaving yearning sighs while wriggling around in bed, fantasizing about Jared Cradowg ...
Karla jolted into a sitting position, her back straight, her expression militant. With deliberation born of desperation, she forced herself to remember every one of Anne’s scathing comments about Jared’s coldly conducted affairs. In self-defense, she mockingly told herself that if Jared was a user it was logical to assume he wanted to use her.
But in what way—Karla’s mouth slanted wryly as she mused—besides this obvious one?
The painting!
The answer slammed into Karla’s mind, widening her eyes, hurting her heart. A sick feeling invaded her stomach as she recalled Jared’s anger and nastiness when she’d refused to sell the painting to him the night of the gallery opening.
How could she have forgotten? Karla upbraided herself. By his attitude, Jared had made perfectly clear to her his intention to have the portrait. And yet, as far as she could remember, he had not mentioned the subject since then. Karla’s eyes narrowed. In point of fact, Jared had neatly ducked the issue when she herself brought it up just that very morning. And tonight his lovemaking had brought her to within a kiss of complete surrender to him, she reflected. Was he hoping to seduce her into happily handing the portrait over to him? she wondered, then supplied what seemed to her the obvious response. Hadn’t another man seduced her into handing just about everything of herself over to him? Karla’s lips compressed. Wouldn’t she ever learn that, with a few rare exceptions like Sean Halloran, the male of the species was a taker?
“That son of a —” Karla ground her teeth in frustration. “Well, Mr. Hot-Shot Artist-cum-Ladies’ Man,” she muttered, “I think I’ll accept your challenge, and we’ll see who’s in possession of the disputed painting when the two-week jaunt is over.”
Her decision made, Karla flopped back on her pillow. A slow smile tugged at her mouth as she settled into her usual sleeping position.
Why not have it all? she asked herself drowsily. Jared had bluntly stated his intention of having two things—an affair with her and the portrait of his grandfather, and it was now obvious he meant to have them in that order. Why not indulge herself by meeting him halfway?
The sparkle of excitement that zigzagged through Karla’s body was all the answer she required. She was a mature adult, she reasoned, and a free agent. She had remained celibate for almost seven years, not only by choice but simply because she hadn’t met any man who’d generated anything in her but the mildest form of interest. That is, until she had glanced up to see Jared scowling at the painting.
Had it begun then and there? Karla mused, sleepily trying to concentrate. With innate honesty, she had to admit to feeling the simmering attraction to Jared from her first sight of him.
So why not acknowledge that attraction and indulge herself for two weeks? Karla queried herself. She had worked very hard during the past few years. Didn’t she now deserve some R&R? Hadn’t she earned the right to combine a little pleasure with Jared’s suggested business trip?
Yes!
The ringing response reverberated inside Karla’s head. The smile on her lips softened sensuously.
Indeed, why shouldn’t she have it all?
It was her last coherent thought before sleep claimed her.
* * * *
Karla’s resolve didn’t waver in the cold light of day, nor did her decision weaken as the day progressed. Quite the opposite, in fact; she looked forward to the coming weeks with eager anticipation.
But then, Karla never expected to fall in love.
After ascertaining Anne’s willingness to handle the gallery on her own for the two weeks, Karla briefly explained the purposes of the jaunt as research and artifact-buying. Cognizant of her assistant’s assessment of Jared’s reputation, Karla didn’t, of course, burden the younger woman with the additional information that the infamous painter would accompany her as guide ... and lover. And, considering her inexperience at the game, she fielded Anne’s questions with the dexterity and aplomb of a seasoned major-league ball player.
“But when did you get this brainstorm?” Anne asked. “You didn’t say a word about it yest
erday.”
Karla shrugged. “It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.” She was relieved she could reply truthfully, since she hated lying and did it badly.
“But why now, all of a sudden?” Anne persisted.
Again Karla was glad that she could give an honest answer. “Because the timing is perfect now, before the volume of business increases after Thanksgiving.” She smiled brightly as an idea hit her. “Maybe I can find some unique specialty items for Christmas sales.”
Apparently Anne liked the idea, for she returned Karla’s bright smile. “You’re the boss,” she said, indicating the small shop with a flick of her hand. “I’ll hold down the fort while you’re scouting around. Enjoy yourself.”
“Oh, I’m sure I will.” Karla laughed, since she had every intention of enjoying herself immensely. So very sure was she, in fact, that she smiled serenely at one point during the day when, upon glancing up at the large canvas, it appeared that the dark eyes in the granite face of Jared’s grandfather were staring at her reproachfully.
Her smile twitched whimsically as, staring back at the portrait, she sent a silent message to the spirit of the proud old man, telling him his grandson sorely needed a lesson on the proper way to deal with the modern woman ... as an equal.
As she smirked at the painting, an odd feeling sent a chill feathering the length of Karla’s spine. Unbelievable as it seemed, she had the strangest sensation that the old man had silently replied, telling her she was wrong, and what his grandson sorely needed was not a lesson but understanding, compassion, and love.
Karla stood transfixed for an instant, gazing intently into eyes of black paint that appeared to gleam, not from oil, but with vibrant life. Then she tore her glance away and laughed off the weird feeling.
Muttering, “That kind of silliness is more on Alycia’s and Andrea’s plane of reality,” she turned away, grateful for the customer who walked in at that moment.
To Karla’s surprise, Jared neither stopped by the gallery nor called her throughout the entire day and evening. And though she was puzzled by his lack of communication, she assumed he was busy making arrangements. But what surprised her even more was how very much she missed hearing from him. She assured herself that she was relieved Jared hadn’t put in an appearance at the gallery, since she felt positive he would speak freely about the trip in front of Anne, but at the same time, Karla couldn’t deny feeling abandoned as she spent the long evening hours packing for the trip.
She was ready to leave, her suitcases set neatly along the wall near the door when the doorbell rang at exactly 6:58 the next morning. After the uneventful evening and a restful night that had been free of conscience-raking and soul-searching, she was astonished by the sudden panic that gripped her. The bell sounded once more, and after drawing a deep, calming breath, Karla squared her shoulders and opened the door.
Attired in tight, stone-washed jeans, scuffed desert boots, a soft chambray shin, and a denim jacket, Jared looked good enough to wrap in bright paper for a Christmas gift.
Denying an inner hunger for such a gift for herself, Karla smiled and swung the door wide. “Good morning. I’m ready.” Her smile dimmed just a smidge. “Even though I must admit that I was wondering if I was engaging in a pointless exercise by getting ready.” It was only at that moment that Karla acknowledged the secret fear that had been steadily growing at the edges of her mind, the fear that he had rejected the uncertainty of attempting to seduce her, in favor of the certainty of one of his more accommodating lady friends.
Jared paused, one foot inside the apartment. “Why?” he asked, coming fully into the small entranceway.
Karla lifted her shoulders in a half-shrug, then forced herself to remain motionless while he ran an appraising glance over her. An expression of approval played over his features as he took stock of her cotton shirt, tucked into the belted waistband of tailored olive-green bush pants. He nodded with satisfaction as his gaze noted her sensible canvas walking oxfords.
“When I didn’t hear from you yesterday,” she replied when he returned his steady gaze to hers, “I thought... wondered if you’d changed your mind about going.”
“Really?” Jared smiled wryly. “Had you convinced yourself that your conditions discouraged me?” He raised one eyebrow to underline his mocking tone.
Since she hadn’t once entertained the idea, Karla could answer with complete honesty; she could even laugh. “No, Jared, I never thought that you’d be put off by anything, least of all my measly strictures.”
“Good thing, too, because I never would be,” Jared drawled. “As it happens, I had some personal business to take care of” his smile was chiding, “besides making the arrangements in accordance with your conditions.”
“You’ve booked separate rooms?”
He gave her a nod and a dry look. “When I choose to, I follow orders very well.”
Karla returned his dry regard with feigned surprise. “You’ve managed separate dining rooms as well?”
Jared’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t push your luck, babe.” He raised the chiding eyebrow again. “At the risk of sounding trite ... shall we get this show on the road?”
“You’re the tour guide,” Karla retorted. “So ... guide.” She turned to scoop up the matching bush jacket she’d draped over her suitcases.
“You’ll need that. It’s a little cool this morning,” Jared said as she slipped her arms into the jacket. “But you’d better bring something heavier for the evenings. It can get cold at night this time of year.”
“All right.” Karla belted the jacket, then moved to the hall closet to retrieve a down parka. “What about accessories ... gloves, a scarf, a hat?” she asked over her shoulder.
“I don’t think you’ll need any of those. Is this all your stuff?”
Karla turned from the closet, the sky-blue parka draped over one arm. “Yes.” She frowned as she glanced at the two suitcases he was now holding. “Why?”
“Why?” Jared repeated on a burst of soft laughter. “You amaze me, that’s why. We’ll be gone for two weeks. I can’t think of one woman I know who could manage with less than four very large pieces of luggage for that length of time.” He hefted her cases as if they were weightless— which she knew they were not. “I do appreciate a woman who travels light.”
As compliments go, Jared’s was of the garden variety, yet it pleased and warmed Karla. She chatted easily with him through the last-minute check of the apartment, the locking up, and the stowing of her gear in the back of the big four-wheel-drive vehicle.
Finally they were on the road, heading ... ? “Where are we going?” Karla shifted in the seat to look at him, her expression expectant.
Jared released his visual lock on the congested highway to slant a quick amusement-bright look at her. “You’re something else, you know that?”
“In what way?” Karla asked with interest.
His lips curved into a tiny but excitingly sensuous smile. “Well, in a lot of ways ... but I was referring to the trust you are now placing in me.” He wiggled his dark brows and leered in a parody of a silent-screen villain. “I could be taking you to my secret hideaway, where you would be at my mercy, helpless while I had my beastly way with you.”
Keeping her expression serious, Karla regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, then made a face at him. “Nah,” she said, shaking her head. “You have more imagination that that.”
Jared’s crack of laughter bounced around the interior of the car, then settled in the interior of Karla’s heart. “As I said, you’re something else,” he chuckled. “And your sense of humor ain’t half bad, either.”
Like his earlier compliment, this one could hardly be described as extravagant, and yet it went directly to Karla’s senses. Inordinately happy, she relaxed, fully expecting to enjoy the jaunt. Apparently Jared was experiencing a similar degree of ease, for when he spoke again, his voice held a tone of tranquil camaraderie.
“Would you like me to give you a rundown of the
entire two-week itinerary? Or will you settle for a day-by-day outline as we go?”
Karla gave his question due consideration before, on impulse, deciding to be adventurous. “Day-by-day, I think,” she replied. “I haven’t taken a vacation in years, and I’m in the mood to be surprised.”
Jared tossed a smile of approval at her. “Okay, here’s the plan for today. We’ll drive through the Painted Desert and Petrified Forest National Park. From there we’ll go on to the Hubble Trading Post. Our last stop of the day will be at Canyon de Chelly. We’ll spend the night there at the Thunderbird Lodge.” He glanced away from the road to quirk an eyebrow. “How does that sound to you?”
“Ambitious but interesting,” Karla laughed. “Will there be enough daylight hours to see all these places?”
“All except de Chelly.” Jared spared a quick glance for her. “Unless we rush through the others, it’ll be dark by the time we arrive at the lodge.”
Karla began shaking her head before he’d finished speaking. “I don’t want to rush through any of it. If you’ll remember, the whole point of this trip is to absorb the modern West.”
“Right.” Jared nodded. “And considering your notion of the modern West, I think you might be in for the surprise you just said you’d prefer.”
Intrigued but confused, Karla frowned. “In what way?”
“I’d rather show you than tell you.” Apparently the enigmatic statement was all Jared was prepared to say on the matter, for he immediately changed the subject, catching her off guard with a question from left field. “Why haven’t you taken a vacation in years?”
Karla blinked at the abrupt change of topic and blurted an answer without thinking. “Because I didn’t have either the time or the money for one.”
“I understand.” Jared was quiet for a quarter of a mile. Then he sent out another probe. “You were in school during that period?”