Molly (10 page)

Her heart hammered, but she pressed on. She
slid her hands up the back of his neck and into his hair, and he
still didn’t move. His slow, satisfied smile made her shiver.

“I’m waiting, Venus. Are you going to show
me?”

She knew she should go ahead right then with
her plans. Strike while the iron was hot, and all that business.
But Samuel was such an intimidating man. She wavered just a moment
too long, and suddenly found herself being lifted off her feet.

“What in the world are you doing?”

He slung her over his shoulder, caveman
style. “Relax, my dear. This will be painless.”

“You put me down!”

“Why, Molly, I thought you were the one who
loved excitement?” He strode across the room, taking his time,
smiling and nodding at the guests, even stopping to chat with a few
while she hung upside down over his shoulder.

“She’s feeling a little faint, Herb. I’m
taking her out for air.”

“No, she’s not sick, Mrs. Reims. She just
loves to be carried around this way.”

“You know how it is with women, Clyde. They
have to be shown who’s the boss every now and then.”

Molly hammered her fists into his back. It
was useless. He continued his relentless march toward the French
doors.

“Tyrant.” She tried to kick the fronts of his
knees, but he caught her legs in a vise grip and pressed them
tightly against his body.

“I warned you about playing with fire.
Remember?”

How well she remembered. But she wasn’t
sorry. Not one bit. As a matter of fact, she hadn’t had this much
fun since she’d jumped into the fountain at Pierre’s party on the
Left Bank in Paris. She’d get Sam for that remark about showing
women who was the boss, though. All she had to do was wait for an
opportunity. And it would come. She knew that as well as she knew
she was Venus de Molly.

Samuel reached the French doors and shoved
through. A blast of humid summer air made Molly’s dress go
limp.

“This damned heat,” he said.

Molly took heart. The always in-charge Samuel
Adams wasn’t as in control as he pretended. She decided to relax
and enjoy the ride. He carried her across a well-lit, stone-paved
patio, through the rose garden and into the darkness of the
trees.

When they reached the shelter of a magnolia
tree, he lowered her to her feet. But he took his own maddening
time, pressing her so close she felt every sizzling inch of
him.

“Now, what was that you were going to show
me, Venus?”

At the moment she couldn’t have shown him the
Tennessee River if it had been rolling over her feet.

He chuckled. “Lost your nerve, Molly? In that
case...”

He bent over her, blocking out the moon, the
stars, the deep velvet sky—blocking out everything until there was
only his face with its piercing black eyes and its ruthless
mouth.

Molly braced herself. A part of her longed
for the kiss; but the sane side fought the attraction for all she
was worth.

“I’m so glad you showed me how to act in
polite Florence society.”

He stared down at her for a second, and then
suddenly he laughed.

“Molly, do you think I’m so straitlaced that
I never have any fun?”

“I don’t know, Sam. Do you?”

Until he’d met Molly, his life had consisted
of work and responsibility and an occasional outing with a suitable
woman. But fun? The fun had stopped when he was fifteen and his
father abandoned the family.

“I’ve had my share of fun, Venus. But there
is a difference between fun and scandal.”

“And you think I’m scandalous. Is that
it?”

She watched his face soften, but the change
was so fleeting she had time for no more than a brief burst of
hope.

“You’re the most scandalous woman I’ve met
since... in a long, long time. And quite frankly, I don’t want you
as a member of this family.”

His words hurt, but she didn’t let him see
that.

“I’m not too thrilled with you, either. But
I’m willing to make the sacrifice for Daddy.”

He felt like a cad for hurting her. In a rare
moment of uncertainty, he just stood there, looking down at her.
Finally, he reached out and put both hands gently on her
shoulders.

“Molly, let’s go back inside to the party.
Please?”

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll scandalize you?” she
whispered.

“You won’t have the chance.” Releasing her
shoulders, he tucked her hand through his arms and started back
toward the house. “I intend to keep you at my side for the rest of
the evening.”

“I can think of worse punishments.”

“So can I.” He stopped in the rose garden and
looked down at her. “Don’t tempt me, Molly.”

“Sam, you’re the last man in the world I want
to tempt.”

Her declaration was heartfelt, and if he
thought it was because she wasn’t attracted to him or didn’t even
like him very much, that was fine with her. He need not know it was
self-protection.

With so much misunderstanding separating
them, they went back inside to the party. Samuel worked through the
crowd with the ease of a man who is very much at home in a social
setting. Occasionally he risked letting go of Molly’s arm, but not
often—especially not when he caught a wicked gleam in her eye. For
the most part he kept one arm draped casually around her shoulders
or wrapped possessively around her waist.

Glory Ethel was the first to notice. Standing
beside the punch bowl with Jedidiah, she watched her son with
interest. He was more relaxed than she had seen him in a long, long
time, and when he looked at Molly... Glory Ethel put her hand over
her heart and sighed.

Jed leaned close. “Did you say something,
sweetheart?”

She patted his hand. “No, dear. It was just a
sigh of contentment.”

“You are happy, aren’t you?”

“Yes. For all of us.” She gazed across the
room at Sam and Molly once more.

“The children look happy. I just wish your
daughter could have been here too.”

“She’ll be at the wedding.”

o0o

The party broke up shortly before ten. Samuel
kept Molly at his side until the last guest had departed. His
mother and Jedidiah briefly passed their way to say goodnight. Then
they went down the first floor hallway to separate bedrooms, thank
God.

“You can let go of my arm now.”

Samuel had held on to Molly for so much of
the night that it was no longer a conscious action on his part. He
released her quickly, and was surprised at how empty his hand
felt.

“Right. The party’s over.”

“And I didn’t do a thing socially
unacceptable.”

Guilt slashed him. “Molly, not only were you
socially acceptable, you were extraordinarily charming. I think
half the people who came are now fans of yours.”

“You know, Samuel, you can be quite nice when
you’re not trying so hard to be a bear.”

“Is that what I am, Molly?”

“Sometimes. A great big grizzly.” She touched
his cheek so briefly he might have dreamed it. “But sometimes,
you’re nothing but a big teddy bear.”

His smile was bittersweet. “Then I’ll have to
watch myself. I can’t be getting soft in my old age.”

“Indeed not. You have your reputation to
think of.” She withdrew her hand. “Good night, Samuel.”

“Good night, Venus.”

Watching her go up the stairs was an exercise
in control. Where had she learned to walk like that? He felt like a
fool standing there. Was he waiting for her to turn around? Waiting
for her to blow him a kiss?

He strode out the front door and got into his
car. For the first time in years, he wished he weren’t driving a
Rolls-Royce. He wished he had a Corvette convertible with the top
down so he could see the stars over the Tennessee River.

Across the river he turned up River Bluff and
headed toward his private health club. Thank God he had a key and
after-hour privileges. He parked outside underneath a
hundred-year-old oak and let himself in. Jerking off his tie and
jacket, he went straight to his locker.

For the first time in his adult life, he
didn’t bother to hang up his clothes. Tuxedo pants and shirt and
coat and tie were strewn across the floor. He dressed quickly,
pulling on the first pair of athletic shorts he could get his hands
on.

Taking his ball and racquet, he went straight
to the racquetball court. He took careful aim and smashed the ball
viciously against the wall. The sound echoed through the empty
health club. Samuel drove himself, concentrating only on the ball
and his target.

Sweat poured off his brow and slicked his
chest. After forty-five minutes of punishing activity, he sat down
to catch his breath. Still, Molly came to his mind. He saw her in
her kitchen with a tear on her cheek; he saw her under the magnolia
tree with moonlight gilding her hair; he saw her laughing in the
slatted swing with mud on her face.

He dropped the racquet and took a deep,
steadying breath. It was getting late, and tomorrow he had a bank
to run. He didn’t have time to stand around the health club till
midnight like some besotted fool—like Taylor Adams.

He stalked over to his locker, jerking up his
scattered clothes as he went. Then he climbed into his Rolls-Royce
and headed back to the house on North Wood Avenue.

The windows were all dark. At least no one
would see him, sweaty and exhausted and out of sorts, climbing the
stairs, dressed in his gym shorts and, for Pete’s sake, his tuxedo
shirt. He didn’t know why he had felt it necessary to put on a
shirt for the drive home. The streets were empty, anyhow. For that
matter, he didn’t know why in the hell he hadn’t just gone back to
his apartment.

His steps slowed as he passed Molly’s bedroom
door. For an insane moment he thought he smelled her fragrance.
What had she called it?
Night of a Thousand Splendors.

Only a door separated them. All he had to do
was put his hand on the doorknob and turn. She would be there,
stretched out on his sister’s brass bed, her hair spread across the
pillow, her long, lovely legs gleaming in the moonlight.

The old wooden floor creaked as he took a
step toward her door. What in the hell did he think Molly would do
if he walked into her bedroom? Throw her arms around him and drag
him into her bed?

Shaking his head in disgust, he walked
quickly down the hall to his own room. He didn’t bother to turn on
the light. He knew every stick of furniture in the room and exactly
where it was placed.

Without turning, he tossed his tuxedo pants
toward an easy chair.

“Mfft.”

Samuel whirled around at the sound. An
apparition rose from the chair. One delicate hand gleamed in the
moonlight as it reached up to push aside his tuxedo jacket. A
familiar face came into view.

“Molly! My God. What are you doing in my
room?”

“Waiting for you.” She tossed the jacket onto
the chair with her right hand and untangled the trousers from her
left. She took her time with his clothes, acting as serene as if
she had come to his room for Sunday afternoon tea.

“Why don’t you turn on the lights,
Samuel?”

“Is there any particular reason I
should?”

“I don’t like to work in the dark.”

She was outlined by the pale strip of
moonlight. He could see that she was still wearing the same dress
she’d worn at the party.

He sought to regain control by moving toward
a floor lamp. “A pity. I do some of my best work in the dark.”

He turned the switch, and lamplight
illuminated her face. She didn’t look as much at ease as she
sounded. That was good. He was in no condition to handle Molly in
top form.

He stepped out of the pool of light and
watched her.

“You’re not wearing trousers.”

“Do I need pants for this game you’re
playing, Molly?”

“They would have been nice, but gym shorts
will do.” She looked down at his legs. The tuxedo shirt completely
covered his shorts. “You
are
wearing gym shorts, aren’t
you?”

“Why don’t you come over here and find
out?”

She caught her lower lip between her teeth
and assessed him. She’d thought it would be easy. While she’d
waited for him to return, she’d planned the whole thing. But she
hadn’t counted on his being half dressed and looking as if he had
already whipped sixteen mountain lions and was eager to whip
sixteen more. Nor had she counted on her own feelings.

The bed suddenly seemed larger. She hadn’t
bargained on how she would feel in his bedroom - languid and
flushed and excited and altogether in no condition to deal with
Samuel standing there half naked.

Fueled by determination, she started toward
him.

“You have the most wonderful ideas,” she
said.

“Has anyone ever told you how sexy your walk
is?”

“No.” She slowed for half a heartbeat.

“They should have.”

“Perhaps you need to give all my suitors
lessons.”

“I have a better idea.”

“What?”

“Come closer and I’ll show you.”

Things weren’t working out the way she had
planned. Samuel was supposed to be feeling trapped. He should be
retreating. But she’d come too far to back out now. Plucking up her
courage, she took the last few steps toward her target.

“Why don’t you let me show you, Samuel?” She
made her voice a sexy purr as she reached for his shirt.

Samuel steeled himself against her touch. He
would not let her see how close she was to being thrown across his
bed.

Her hands were working the top stud of his
tuxedo shirt now. He had a decision to make. He could let her
continue her game, or he could put a swift stop to it.

He studied her. She was tense, ill at ease
and uncertain. He was intrigued. What was she up to? Finding out
would be amusing.

Silently she removed the top stud from his
shirt, taking great care not to make too much contact with his
skin.