Molly (15 page)

“Stake your claim! I’m not a piece of
property.”

“No, you’re not. You’re a luscious, lively
woman. And you’re mine.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’m
here to make sure of that.”

Molly was hot and cold all the same time,
furious and ecstatic and more than a little confused.

“How did you find me?”

“I can explain that.” Robin spoke from the
other side of the table.

“Robin? Not you?”

“I didn’t mean to betray you,
cherie.
But when he called this afternoon...”

“While I was shopping?”

“Oui, mon amie.
He seemed such a
sincere gentleman... and you had been moping.” He shrugged his
shoulders. “I saw no harm in telling him where we would be tonight.
I did what I thought was best for you.”

Molly reached across the table in a quick
gesture of compassion. “You always do, Robin... and there’s no harm
done.” She smiled. “I can handle this.”

“Molly,” Sam drawled, “if your smile is any
indication, you’re up to devilment.”

“Who? Me? Why, Sam, how could you think that
about your very own family?”

“How could I not? Your track record is fairly
clear in that area.”

“Then I suggest you go back to Florence.
There’s no need for you to stick around and witness my little
indiscretions.”

He lifted one eyebrow. “Little indiscretions,
my sweet? How many men have you tied to your bed since you returned
to Paris?” Her furious blush gave him his answer. His chuckle was
low and satisfied. “None? I thought not.” Leaning close, he caught
her chin in his hand. “There will be no more men in your bed,
Molly. Only me.”

“I haven’t...” She bit her lip to stop her
own foolish confession.

He kissed her cheek and murmured in her ear.
“I’ll be your first, Molly... and your last.”

She couldn’t answer him until the rhythm of
her heart settled down.

“I suppose you want to get started right
away.” False sweetness and hard-won dignity oozed from her like
thick honey.

He chuckled. “Not just yet, my love. I have
to get over jet lag.”

“Have you ever considered how hard it’s going
to be for an old man like you to keep up with a young thing like
me?”

“I think you’ll find me more than equal to
the task.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want to hang out with
somebody who would cramp my style.”

“
Hang out?
Is that the same thing as
making a commitment?”

“No. It means simply that while you’re in
Paris, I will consent to be seen in your company...as long as you
can endure it.”

“I think you’ll find that my endurance is
exceeded only by my stubbornness. I don’t plan to let you go,
Molly.”

“I’ll make you change your mind.”

“Are you planning to play hard to get?”

“I’m not playing, Sam. I
am
hard to
get.”

Leaning back in his chair, he smiled at her.
“Carry on, my sweet. I’m going to enjoy every moment of this.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She looked at
Robin, who had been sipping his wine and avidly following their
conversation. “Robin, would you be a sweetheart and ask the
guitarist to play L
a Nina del Fuego
?

“Not
The Girl of Fire
. Molly, do you
think this is wise?”

“Robin, have I ever let wisdom stand in the
way of wickedness?”

There was no need to answer her question.
Robin rose from the table and made his way toward the small
band.

When the first haunting strains of the
Spanish music sounded, Molly rose from her chair. Looking straight
at Samuel, she smoothed her dress, stroking her body with slow,
sensuous movements.

“Don’t tempt me too far, Molly.”

“Is your endurance already wavering?”

“No. But I’m making a remarkably quick
recovery from jet lag.”

Samuel had the satisfaction of seeing another
blush stain her cheeks. Except for her high color, though, she
appeared to be perfectly in control.

She tossed her gleaming hair over her
shoulder and made her way toward the small dance floor. Moving
directly to center, she began dancing. Lifting her hair above her
head with both arms, almost as if she were stretching, she swayed
in a lazy, undulating rhythm. The beautiful, eerie guitar music
seemed to be pulsing within her.

Samuel watched her, spellbound. Her bright
hair swayed with the rhythm, and her tight dress flared, revealing
her long, luscious legs. Then the music became frenzied, wild. So
did Molly’s dance. Her movements were lusty and frankly sensual. A
murmur rose from the crowd.

Sweat popped out on Samuel’s brow. Need
snaked sharply through him. Slowly he stood, kicking his chair
aside. His muscles were tense as he walked toward the dance
floor.

Molly never broke her step. Samuel lifted one
hand high in the air, and she touched it with her palm. His feet
stamped the hardwood while she whirled around him, her head back,
throat bared, hips almost connecting with his, and then moving
away.

A low “Ahh” sounded from the audience. The
air vibrated with the sound of wild music and frenzied dancing.

Sweat dampened Molly’s throat and trickled
between her breasts. Her chest heaved with the physical exertion of
the dance and her sharp awareness of Samuel. He moved with the
grace and sureness of a panther, stalking his mate. His eyes were
bottomless black, and his face was filled with passion.

Molly’s breath caught in her throat as the
guitarist struck his final, wailing chord. Samuel caught her around
the waist with one hand and lowered her toward the floor, bending
deeply over her.

She was limp and panting.

“I can never resist your invitations, my
dear.” His own breathing was ragged, and his hot breath fanned her
throat.

She couldn’t have replied if she were being
threatened by a band of cutthroat gypsies. New sensations swamped
her body. If those strange and wonderful feelings were the same as
those of a woman who had just arisen from her lover’s bed, she was
in grave danger of ignoring the Dixie Virgins’ Rule Four.

While the sustained chord hummed in the air,
Samuel bent lower until his lips were touching her skin. .

“Molly, if you’re looking for scandal, I can
oblige... right here on the dance floor.”

“Please.”

His wicked dark eyes blazed down into hers,
and for a moment she thought he was going to carry through with his
threat. Finally he smiled and slowly lifted her upright. Then,
taking her hand, he led her toward the table.

She didn’t speak until she was seated.

“Where did you learn to dance the flamenco,
Sam?”

“I dated a dance teacher once who thought it
would be fun to teach me. I was hopelessly inept at the waltz and
the foxtrot but I seemed to have a knack for the Latin
rhythms.”

Molly felt a sudden urge to cover the dance
teacher with chunky peanut butter and set her out for the
birds.

“Whatever happened to the teacher?”

“She married a stockbroker who didn’t know a
guitar from a goat.” Samuel reached for her hand. “I intend to
marry you, you know.”

“If that’s your idea of a proposal, you have
a lot to learn about romance.”

“Molly, nothing you can say or do will change
my mind.” He smiled. “That was the point of the dance, wasn’t
it?”

“You hate scandal.”

“You’re not scandalous.”

“Since when?”

“Since I fell in love with you.”

Where were the Dixie Virgins when she needed
them? Even Robin’s chair was empty.

“Where’s Robin?”

“He left with friends shortly after you
started dancing. He said to tell you he’d see you in the
morning.”

“He wouldn’t leave me like that. Certainly
not with someone he hardly knows. Not with a stranger.”

“I’m not a stranger, my love. I’m family...
and I can be powerfully persuasive.”

Of course, she thought. Robin would have
known about the family connection the minute he heard Samuel’s
name. Before she left Paris, she’d told him all about going home to
meet Papa’s fiancée, Glory Ethel Adams. Anyway, she had called
Samuel “family” a few minutes ago. Or had it been hours? She seemed
to have lost all track of time.

“Molly... Look at me, my love.” She turned
back toward him and he caught her face between his hands. “There’s
no need to play games with me. I won’t run away. I love you, my
sweet. Don’t you know that?”

“You keep telling me that.”

“It’s true. I’m not just saying that to lure
you into my bed. I want more from you, Molly. I want commitment,
marriage, children.”

“I told you, I’m not the marrying kind.”

“Why not?”

“Because... I’m too young.”

Samuel could tell by the expression on her
face that the reply was an evasion. He decided not to pursue the
matter—at least not for a while. He released her and reached for
the wine bottle.

“Would you like a glass of wine?”

“No. I’d like to go home.”

“I’ll take you. My rental car is
outside.”

“Samuel, that’s the first good news I’ve
heard since you arrived.”

He pulled back her chair and took her elbow.
“It must be. Your smile is radiant.” He led her across the crowded
club. “I’m delighted that you think going home with me is such good
news.”

“That’s not the good part. The good news is
that you’ll have two hands on the wheel of your rental car.”

“Only one, my sweet. And you’d be surprised
what a gentleman of my experience can do with one hand.”

“I’m not a bit worried. I plan to sit as far
away from you as possible.”

“You’ll change your mind.”

The City of Light came alive at night, a
sprawling giant wearing a patchwork coat of light and shadow, a
restless Amazon announcing its presence with raucous laughter and
beeping horns and rumbling trains and staccato footsteps. Suddenly,
Sam took Molly into his arms.

The move was unexpected, she was totally
unprepared. She melted against him, vaguely aware of people passing
by. Was he more passionate than she remembered, or was that her own
heightened response? She was still reeling from their encounter on
the dance floor. She supposed she could excuse her near-hussy
behavior on the sidewalk by saying that she was tired and
overwhelmed and too darned young to withstand the passionate
advances of this handsome, experienced older man.

When he finally let her go, she brushed her
hand through her hair and tried to look stern.

“My goodness. On the sidewalk, Samuel!”

He roared with laughter. “My sweet, you are a
delicious fraud.” He took her elbow and helped her into his
car.

She forgot all about scooting over to the
other side. Samuel smiled but didn’t comment. Instead he put one
arm around her shoulders and deftly maneuvered the car with the
other.

She sighed and moved closer. “I’ve always
loved Paris at night.”

“So do I... now.”

They didn’t speak for a while. The
comfortable silence was broken by the swish of tires on the street
and the occasional honking of an irate taxi driver. Molly stifled a
yawn with the back of her hand.

“Sleepy, my love?” He gently urged her
closer.

She put her head on his shoulder. It felt so
comfortable, she decided there would be no harm in resting a while
longer. Letting him chase her all the way to the alter was
exhausting. Her eyelids drooped. And then she was sound asleep.

Samuel smiled down at her. “Sleep, my
beautiful Venus. You’re going to need it.” He chuckled softly to
himself.

He drove with one hand, cuddling Molly close
with the other. He missed her apartment building the first time he
drove by, and had to circle the block, but he didn’t mind. As long
as he was holding Molly in his arms, he was content.

He parked at the curb and smiled down at her.
Even in sleep she had that determined expression that so delighted
him.

He bent over and kissed her cheek. “Wake up,
my love. We’re home.”

“Hmm.” She woke slowly, stretching in an
unconsciously provocative way that drove Samuel wild.

“Don’t do that, Molly.”

“What?” She turned her innocent ace to
him.

He tenderly brushed her hair back from her
forehead. “Never mind, love.” He helped her from the car and up the
steps to her apartment.

She didn’t come fully awake until she was
standing in front of the elevator. It was an old-fashioned security
cage with a French door and a sliding metal grate.

“Where’s the key, my sweet?”

She blushed. “Don’t look.” Turning her back
quickly, she fished inside her bra and pulled out a tiny coin purse
that held her keys and enough change for a phone call and a
taxi.

Samuel chuckled. “Anything in there for
me?”

“Don’t you wish, you pirate!”

He steadied her hand opened the French door.
Behind it, the elevator grate slid open. Molly stepped inside and
leaned against the sides of the metal cage. Samuel placed his hands
around her shoulders and moved in close.

“If I were a pirate, I’d simply throw you
over my shoulder and take you captive.”

“You’ve already done that. Remember?”

“Only the first part.” His eyes darkened. “I
was foolish not to do the second part, as well.”

His lips brushed across her cheek and down
the side of her throat. Her body went liquid.

“I love you, Molly.” His open mouth traced
the elegant line of her shoulder and then dipped lower to skim
across the tops of her breasts.

With one hand he pulled her hips against his.
Their harsh breathing combined with the creaking of cables as the
ancient elevator rose to the top of the eighteenth-century
apartment building.

“How will I ever tame the beast long enough
to court you properly?” he murmured against the side of her
throat.

At the moment, she didn’t care about being
courted properly...or any other way. Samuel was doing a pretty
darned good job of sweeping her off her feet.