Molly (16 page)

The elevator creaked to a stop.

“This is my floor, Samuel.”

“Which apartment number?”

“Sixty.”

He picked her up and carried her to her door.
Naked bulbs in the dimly lit hall shone down on her hair.

“You look like an angel, my sweet.”

“I’m not.”

“I’m glad.” He kissed her cheek and set her
on her feet. “Where’s your key?”

“You can’t come in.”

“Molly, I have no intention of coming inside.
That would be too much temptation for any man. Are you going to get
the key, or shall I?” He lifted one eyebrow.

She whirled quickly and retrieved her key
from its nesting place. It fit into the lock on the third try. She
started to turn the doorknob, but Samuel stayed her hand.

“I’ll see you in the morning, love. Ten
o’clock.”

“How do you know I’ll be here? I’m a working
girl.”

“Surely not on Saturday?” Her face told him
he’d guessed right. He turned, opened her apartment door, and let
her in. “See you tomorrow, Venus.”

One final kiss on the cheek, and he was gone.
Molly stood in the dark and wondered what she would do now.

“Do you want to turn on the light? Or shall
we talk in the dark?”

She jumped at the sound. Robin rose from the
sofa and flicked on a lamp. Taking Molly’s hand he led her back to
the couch.

“I guessed you’d want to talk.”

Molly sank onto the cushions and put her head
on her friend’s shoulder. He patted her arm.

“What in the world am I going to do,
Robin?”

“I’m not one to advise,
cherie,
but
I can listen.”

Molly sighed and stared into space for a
while, and then she began to talk. “He says he loves me...and I
think that’s true. He wants to marry me.”

“How do you feel,
cherie
?”

“Scared. Uncertain.”

“That’s not like my Molly.”

“I know. But then, I’ve never been this close
to falling in love.”

“You love him?”

“I don’t know.” She bent over and buried her
face in her hands. “This is
awful,
Robin.
I’m
awful.”

“No, you’re not. You’re confused.”

“That’s it.” She popped back up and settled
close to Robin. “When I was in America with Daddy getting married,
and Janet and Belinda so happy with their new husbands, I imagined
myself flying to the altar with this really
gorgeous
man
who made my Virginia hot!”

“I’m no expert,
cherie,
but I think
love has to do with more than your Virginia.”

“Exactly!” Molly’s euphoria lasted all of two
seconds. “Oh, but, Robin,
knowing
about love and
being
in love
are two entirely different things!” She raked her hair
off her hot face. “If I’m wrong about being in love with Sam, I
hurt Glory Ethel and Bea, not to mention Daddy. I don’t even know
if his sweet new wife would stay with him if I smashed the heart of
her only son!”

“Why don’t you find out if you love him?”

“I’ve already made a horrible mess of things.
What if I make an even bigger mess?”

Molly sagged against Robin, grateful that she
could sit there and brood without him trying to cheer her up with
unsolicited advice.

Suddenly, she popped back up. “Robin! Why
didn’t I think of that sooner?”

“Judging by that wicked grin on your face,
your plan must be good... and very naughty. Tell me.”

“I’m almost afraid to say it out loud. Lean
close.”

He did, and she whispered in his ear.

“Of course. It’s the French way.”

“No, it’s not merely that. Don’t you see? I
can find out if all these...” She made a gesture of frustration
with her hands.

“Passions?”

“Yes. Without making any commitments, I can
see if it’s love or just lust. I’ll still be free. And at the same
time, I can find out Samuel’s true feelings.”

“No man in his right mind is going to turn
down such an offer.”

She smiled. “You don’t know Samuel. When I
first met him, he thought I was the most scandalous, unsuitable
woman he’d ever seen. He says he’s over that, but I’m not sure.”
Her smile grew bigger. “Tomorrow I’ll find out.”

“I suppose I’ll have to resign myself to
sitting here alone all weekend. I won’t even know how things come
out until you get back.”

She chuckled at Robin’s deadpan expression.
Leaning over, she pinched his cheeks.

“You’re a great pal.”

“So are you,
cherie.”
He stood up
and took her hand. “Bedtime. You have to look your best for
tomorrow.”

o0o

The persistent sound woke Samuel. Groggily he
reached for his alarm clock. When his hand came up empty, he
realized that he wasn’t in Florence, Alabama; he was in Paris. And
the noise wasn’t an alarm clock—it was someone knocking on his
door. He fumbled in the dark for his watch. The glowing dial said
eight o’clock.

“Dammit,” he muttered as he reached for his
pants. “Don’t the French maids sleep?”

There was more tapping at his door, louder
this time.

“Coming!” he called. He reached for his shirt
and then discarded it. If the French maids insisted on barging into
his room at this hour, they could very well take what they
found.

His bare feet sank into the plush carpet as
he made his way to the door. Latches and chains rattled, and he
swung the door open.

Molly was standing in the hallway, dressed in
a pert red suit and a sassy hat with a small veil.

“Good Lord! Molly!”

“Is that the same as ‘Good morning, Molly’?”
He stared at her and she grinned. “Are you going to invite me in or
shall we stand all day in the hallway?” She reached out and boldly
ran her hands down his bare chest. “We might create a
sensation.”

He stepped back from the door. “Come in.”

“Can you help me with these bags?”

“What bags?”

For the first time since he’d opened the
door, he looked at something besides Molly’s smiling face and
stunning figure. She was surrounded by bags, all of them
red—hatboxes and hanging bags and suitcases and cosmetic
cases—enough to outfit a regiment of French soldiers.

She smiled sweetly. He didn’t trust that
smile for a minute. “I paid the bellboy a handsome sum to bring the
bags up and then to leave without putting them into the room.” She
lifted a red hatbox. “Do you mind?”

He was wide-awake now, his mind spinning with
possibilities. Molly on his doorstep with her bags... She was up to
devilment.

He took the hatbox and her arm at the same
time. “Do come in. Make yourself comfortable.”

She marched into his hotel room like a queen
making her entrance to hold court. He started whistling and
bringing in bags, all the while watching her out of the corner of
his eye.

First she opened the draperies to let in the
light. Next she turned on three lamps. With her hands propped on
her sassy hips, she surveyed the room. When she looked at the bed,
she blushed and looked away quickly.

Samuel stifled a chuckle that threatened to
ruin his whistling.

With all her bags inside, piled neatly in a
corner of his room, he pulled out a chair.

“Sit down, my sweet.” He noticed that she
seemed less sure of herself now. He was glad. Her innocence was one
of the most appealing things about her. “To what do I owe the
pleasure of this visit?”

“This is not a visit.”

He cocked one expressive eyebrow at her.
“It’s not?”

“No. I’m moving in.”

He held back his grin. “Don’t you think the
room is a little small for two?”

“It will do.”

“There’s only one bed.”

“We’ll share.”

“What did you say, my love? I didn’t quite
catch that.”

“We’ll both sleep in the same bed.”

“Is this a proposal, Molly? If so, I
accept.”

“No. This is not a proposal.” She got up and
began to pace the room. Her little hat slipped down over one eye
and threatened to tumble off her head. She paced and paced, biting
her lip and working up her courage. This wasn’t as easy as she had
thought it would be. And then there was Samuel. She hadn’t known
what his reaction would be. But then, Samuel always did the
unexpected. She’d have to be careful. That’s all.

“I’m moving in with you, Sam... as your
lover.”

“You want to have an affair?”

“Yes.”

He went so still Molly wondered if he was he
going to turn her down. After all her planning, was he going to say
no?

“I suppose you’re willing to start right
away?” he said.

“Of course.”

Suddenly he was across the room. Without a
word he lifted her hat off and sailed it toward the bed. Next he
unfastened the top button of her suit. She could feel the heat of
his hands all the way through her clothes. He popped the second
button open, and the third. She could scarcely breathe.

“Changed your mind, my sweet?”

“No.”

“Good.” He slid her jacket from her
shoulders. Underneath, her silky blouse clung to her damp skin.

“It’s awfully hot in here, don’t you think?”
she said.

He almost smiled. “You need some air?”

“Please.”

“I could open a window.”

“That would be great, Sam.”

He studied her for such a long time, she
thought she would hyperventilate.

“Or we could go out for some air, Molly.”

Repriev
e!

“What a great idea. I love Paris in the
summer, and it’s a beautiful morning.”

He smiled. “Why don’t you change into
something suitable for walking while I shower?”

He whistled all the way to the bathroom. The
minute the door closed behind him, she quickly opened a suitcase
and pulled out shorts, a blouse and walking shoes. Her hands
fumbled on the buttons of her blouse as she started undressing.

She was just tying her shoes when Samuel came
out of the bathroom, still whistling. She looked up, half expecting
to see him wearing nothing more than a towel, but he surprised her.
He was fully dressed, wearing snug-fitting jeans and a white
T-shirt. He looked virile and handsome and altogether
delicious.

There were many women who would even envy
her. Including all the Dixie Virgins - except Bea, of course.

“There’s a wonderful park at the Champ de
Mars,” she said. “There are carousels and puppet shows and donkey
rides. We could spend the entire day at the park.”

“I haven’t see a puppet show since I was
ten”

If he kept saying things like that, she was
going to melt into a little puddle at his feet. But was it
love?

“We can pick up sandwiches at the corner deli
and pack a picnic lunch, Sam.”

“Whatever happened to breakfast?”

“We’ll start with croissants and
café au
lait.”

“All your ideas are wonderful, Molly.”

She shot a quick glance at his face, but all
she saw was a friendly smile. Figuring out love was going to be
harder than she’d imagined.

By the time they reached the park, it was
almost noon. The Eiffel Tower made a backdrop for brightly colored
summer flowers and quiet tree-shaded walks. Carousel music blended
with the laughter of children.

“Look, Samuel... a puppet show.”

A gaily striped awning shaded a small stage.
Marionettes danced and sang, their wooden legs tapping against the
stage floor.

The puppeteers were singing in French, and
Samuel didn’t understand a word they said. What he did understand
was the enchantment on Molly’s face. In his hard-nosed business
world, he rarely saw such a face. Even his social world was
woefully lacking in joyful people. Watching her, he understood why
he had fallen so unexpectedly in love.

He wished he knew the perfect words to say to
her, the perfect things to do for her. But he was only human; he’d
have to content himself with muddling through. And he could only
hope that that would be enough.

His hand tightened on hers. If he lost Molly,
he might as well buy a one-way ticket to hell, for he knew that
life without her would be unbearable.

He leaned down and planted a tender kiss on
the top of her head.

She gazed up at him. “Wasn’t that show
wonderful?”

“Is it over?”

“Weren’t you watching the puppets?”

“I was watching you.”

“Then you missed all the fun.”

“On the contrary. Molly-watching is my
favorite pastime.” Her blush made him smile. “Anyhow, I don’t
understand French.”

“Then we’ll have to find some other
entertainment for you.”

“I can think of about a thousand
entertainments... and all of them involving you.” He set the picnic
basket on the ground and pulled her into his arms. With one finger,
he tipped her face up to his. “I haven’t kissed you this morning,
Molly. It’s time to remedy that.”

It was a lover’s kiss—thorough and very
tender. Carousel music echoed across the park, and the sweet
fragrance of summer flowers filled the air. And Molly knew.
Suddenly she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was in love
with Samuel Adams. True, she had been feeling passion... and
desire. He had awakened yearnings in her body that she had never
known existed. But what she felt now went beyond passion, beyond
desire.

She eased her hands around his neck and
pulled him closer. Standing on tiptoe, she fitted herself more
perfectly against his body.

The Champ de Mars was designed for lovers.
Throngs of laughing children and indulgent adults passed them
without a glance. The carousel continued its mechanical musical
rounds and the puppeteers geared up for another show.

When he finally released her, Molly leaned
her head against his chest. She wasn’t going to think about a
single thing; she was just going to enjoy the moment.

“I’m ravenous, Samuel. Let’s eat.”