Damon, Lee (30 page)

"But—"

"I know. It's not true and I can prove it, but by the time I did so and a retraction was printed at the bottom of page forty-two in small type, who would pay any attention? All the public would remember would be the headlines."

"Okay. I can see your reasoning. So, what was the second thing?"

"I wanted to get a list of her creditors. That was why I told her to send the bills to me. Her father told me that when he wouldn't pay any more bills for her, she claimed that she would have no trouble having them sent to me."

"Would she?"

"Oh, she could have gotten away with it once". Of course, the first time I received a bill from anyone for her charges, I would have sent back a letter explaining the situation. Again, to simplify things and prevent unpleasantness, it was easier to get hold of her current bills, pay them, and include a letter of explanation specifying that I was not responsible for her future financial dealings and that the recipient would do well to investigate her credit standing."

"Hmmm. You can get rather nasty, too, can't you?"

"Only if pushed."

"I'm surprised that she'd hit you up again. If she knew you at all—"

"That's just it. She doesn't. Besides, she was ripping mad. Several of her favorite shops and a couple of credit card companies have cut her off after checking her rating and source of income. Naturally, she blames me."

"How did you leave it?"

"No more money. I absolutely won't guarantee her credit. She'd better get a job and scale down her lifestyle. Threats aren't going to get her anywhere. That's it."

"What do you think she'll do now?"

"Who knows? She's so damn erratic it's impossible to second-guess her half the time. I'll give my lawyer a call in the morning and fill him in so he'll be ready for any odd moves. I'm bored with the subject of Laura. Let's talk about how soon you're going to take up residence here."

His arms were looped loosely around her, barely touching her, and she felt no uneasiness in their gentle enclosure. In fact, she wasn't thinking about being restrained at that moment; her mind was still on Laura and how much of a threat she might be to Gus's peace of mind. O'Mara was more than capable of taking care of himself, but Gus was only nine, and Kitt had no clear idea as to just how much he understood of the situation. She was trying to formulate a leading question when O'Mara distracted her by trailing kisses from her ear down to her collarbone and slowly stroking one hand up the length of her leg.

"Oh, wait. O'Mara, stop changing the subject. I want... Will you stop that for a minute? I want to ask you something."

"Mmmm. I would much rather find out how we're progressing in our project."

"All right, but not this minute. Please. Toad. Come on, O'Mara, this is important. I need to know how Gus feels about Laura, or I won't know what to say or not to say to him. What are you doing?"

"Unfastening your bra. Why the hell do you bother with the silly thing? You don't need it. Ah, that's better. Lean back and relax. You can hold onto my other hand, and you can move away whenever you want to. Okay?"

"This is a hell of a way to carry on a serious conversation. How am I supposed to concentrate with you doing that? Are you going to tell me about Gus?"

"If I must. But you do pick your times, love. Is that making you nervous?"

"That's not exactly the word I'd use, you devious toad. You know perfectly well what that's making me. Tell me about Gus and how he feels about Laura. How much does he know?"

"When did you develop this one-track mind? Ow! Don't pinch. I'll tell you. He knows just about everything. He's much too bright to try to fool or fob off with half-truths. I didn't think it was fair, either, to let him fantasize about his mother coming back full of remorse and overdue love. We've talked about it quite a bit at one time or another, and I think he's very well adjusted to the situation. Several times, we've discussed the possibility of finding just the right woman to be a mother to him and a wife to me, and I told him about you and said that you'd be exactly what we needed if I could find you again."

"Ha! I had a feeling. He said something the other evening that made me suspect that he'd already heard quite a bit about me before last Friday. O'Mara?"

"Mmmm. Turn around. I can't kiss you from here."

"That was a short discussion. On the other hand, I'm rather losing my train of thought. Ahhh, that's nice."

"Just nice?" His voice was muffled against her neck. She arched her head back and turned toward him, pushing his head up until she could reach his mouth with hers.

"Very nice," she whispered against his mouth, pressing her bare breasts into his warm, waiting hands. His touch was firm but gentle; he let all the pressure come from her, leaving her free to move back whenever she wished.

Kitt had no thought of moving away. She loved the feel of his hands on her, his fingers gently stroking, his thumbs teasing her nipples to hardness. Eagerly, she opened her mouth for him and wound her arms around his shoulders, burying her fingers in his thick hair, reveling in its sensuous softness under her hands.

Eyes closed, all her senses concentrated on him and what he was making her feel, she stopped trying to think coherently or to analyze what was happening between them. She let her mind go its own way, filling with the awareness of her rising heat and his obvious arousal. It went on for a timeless span before he finally brought his hands up to frame her face and ease her a few inches away from him.

"Softly now, my Kitt," he murmured huskily. "Let go of my hair and relax."

"Not yet. Please."

"Shhh. Now is just the right time to calm down, before we push it to the point where you get scared. Come on, love, sit up and give me your hands."

"But I want—"

"I know what you want, but you're not ready yet. You know you're not, love. And I don't want you to react to me with fear, so we should stop before it gets to that stage."

Pushing her hair back, she sat up, swinging her feet to the floor and leaving a couple of feet of space between them. As her breathing returned to normal and her heartbeat slowed, she slanted a rueful look at him. "It's your own fault, you know. You touch me like that and I forget all about being afraid of... the rest of it." She sighed and stood up, turning away from him to fumble for the fastening to her bra. "But I know you're right about rushing things. It's just that...."

He swung to his feet as her voice trailed off and she stood, tense, staring out at the dark, moving mystery of the night ocean. Coming up behind her, he started massaging the tight muscles in her neck and shoulders, finally feeling her relax under his hands and, at last, lean back against him, reaching up to take his hands and bring his arms around her. She turned her head against his shoulder and smiled at him, saying softly, "It's okay."

"We've got almost a week before I leave for Europe. Let's just take it day by day and one step at a time. No pressure. No trying to force things. All right, love?"

"All right."

Although she agreed with him at that moment, she didn't really believe that they would be able to keep from trying to consummate their deep love for each other much longer. Her knowledge of his desire and need for her went far beyond sensing; she could actually
feel
the strength of his passion driving through him whenever he held her, or even when she was merely close enough to touch him. As for her own feelings, she was torn between frustration and anger and exasperation. She was filled with an overwhelming longing to
be
with him, completely, totally; to find out at last the ending of what they had started so many years before; and, at the same instant, to begin fulfilling the promise of their new life together now. Still, despite her blazing, aching need of him, which grew stronger every time they were together, there remained that tiny, cold, twisted lump of fear lodged deep in her vitals, just waiting to burgeon into panic when her subconscious screamed, "Trapped! Can't move! Can't get away! There's going to be pain!"

She tried again and again, far into the night hours after

O'Mara had brought her home, to convince herself that she would not panic. This was O'Mara, and he loved her far beyond anything she could put into words; he would cut off his hand before he would cause her the slightest pain; he had the patience and experience to bring her to the ultimate pleasure without ever causing her the least discomfort; he would teach her everything and make sure she gloried in the learning.

She sat up in the middle of her empty bed, huddled in a tight ball with her arms wrapped around her knees, rocking back and forth. Somehow, it had to go away. She had to force it out of her system. There must be a way to get rid of the fear, especially since she was eons away from being afraid of him. She loved him. She had emptinesses that only he could fill—physical, mental, emotional spaces. She knew she wouldn't be complete until she was with him, living with him, sharing all the experiences of life with him. And the frustration of not being able to get rid of that damn nub of panic was making her mad enough to spit!

The list of both their individual and mutual frustrations -that week was a long one. Kitt tried everything she could think of to tease, tempt and inveigle O'Mara into at least trying to make love to her. To her surprise, he remained adamant in his conviction that they should not try to force the issue. Much to his surprise, and her delight, she discovered hitherto unsuspected talents for playing the seductress. With a heady combination of fascination, bemusement and appreciation, he watched her kick her inhibitions into the river and concentrate her unfettered imagination on the problem of wrapping him around her little finger.

For the first time in years, she looked at clothes as more than a means of covering as much bare skin as possible. In fact, it had been so long since she had given a thought to dressing to please a man that she was hesitant to trust her own judgment in choosing among the many new styles. A quick conference with Midge, and she had acquired a new part-time clerk for a couple of hours in the afternoon, leaving Midge free to go with her on a three-afternoon shopping spree.

Enchanted, Midge watched a new Kitt emerge—a vibrant, laughing woman who looked years younger, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she suddenly became aware of her own attractiveness and appeal and plotted, with Midge's enthusiastic assistance, to knock O'Mara back on his heels. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that he knew perfectly well what she was doing, but he encouraged her transformation by voicing his admiration and approval of her new image.

It was O'Mara, standing back and thoroughly examining Kitt's outfit for dinner at the Standish Reef, who finally pinned a label on her new look when he murmured, "Hmmm. Subtly enticing. I like it. You'll be lucky if you get out of there without some green-eyed female stabbing you with her butter knife."

"Or some overheated male attacking her," chimed in Midge, casting an envious glance at Kitt's elegant length draped in finely pleated, pale gold chiffon evening trousers and a sleeveless, cowl-necked overblouse of the same material belted with a gold cord. When she was standing still, the costume was merely elegant, but as soon as she moved, the thin, drifting fabric molded to her every curve.

The glinting look Kitt cast in O'Mara's direction made it clear just which overheated male she'd like to have "attack" her. Laughing, he caught her hands to pull her close and whispered, "You look very sexy, love, but I'm still only going to let things go just so far."

Much to Kitt's chagrin, he stuck to his position, and it wasn't until their last evening together before he left for Europe that he relented and, even then, it was because she took him by surprise and he reacted before he had time to think.

Monday afternoon was slow, and Midge chased Kitt upstairs at four o'clock to get ready for the evening. O'Mara and Gus were due to pick her up at five to take her out to dinner and then back to the Rock for the rest of the evening. Her first view of the O'Maras standing nonchalantly in the middle of the shop stopped her in her tracks, and she had the fleeting thought that Midge's bedazzled expression must surely be mirrored on her own face. They were truly splendid, casually posed in the ultimate in father-son ensembles, watching her with matching mischievously gleaming eyes.

Regaining her aplomb, she walked around them in a circle, valiantly ignoring the telltale shaking of O'Mara's shoulders as she absorbed the details of deep sapphire velvet jackets, two or three shades darker than their eyes, white silk-knit turtleneck pullovers, pale gray slacks and intricate gold chains. She bent over Gus to examine the gold device on his chain and discovered it to be an inch-high, finely detailed Tyrannosaurus rex.

Still leaning over, she raised her eyes to Gus's, kissed him on the nose and pronounced, "You are truly splendiferous!"

Straightening up and turning to O'Mara, she managed to slide her eyes quickly past his waiting gaze and concentrate on the glitter of gold on his chest. As she realized what it was, she suppressed a gasp of laughter but couldn't control the mirth that filled her eyes. Gleaming against the white silk was a magnificently warty toad, sporting a distinct leer and winking at her with a glowing sapphire eye.

Breathlessly, she managed, "Wherever did you find—" before she finally met his laughing eyes with her own.

It set the tone for much of the evening. Absorbing the love and admiration emanating from O'Mara and Gus, Kitt was relaxed and happy; the faint misgivings she'd felt about the bareness of her dress, still a new experience, disappeared under O'Mara's appreciative comments and his apparent inability to keep from touching her every few minutes. Since all of her interest was centered on the look in
his
eyes, she was totally unaware of the attention she attracted as she followed the maître d' across the restaurant dining room. More than a few male eyes lit with pleasure at the sight of her long, slim legs enhanced by the swirling knee-length skirt of her turquoise jersey dress, and the firm curves of her breasts subtly emphasized by the soft gathers of the dress's bodice, cut high in front but baring her back almost to her waist.