Notorious (10 page)

Warmth rushed through her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He lay back down and drew her close again. “Now you can go to sleep.”

She lay there thinking about his words and the unexpected sensitivity and understanding he had shown her.

She suddenly giggled.

“What’s funny?”

“I just had a vision of the Mona Lisa with the face of a bulldog.”

“At least, I said you’d be a prize bulldog.”

“Are they less ugly?”

“No, but they have more character.”

“Oh, that’s all right then.”

Three afternoons later Mallory stretched lazily, coming awake slowly, gently as she usually did after her nap. As she sat up, she noticed that the room seemed dimmer than usual. “Lord, what time is it?”

“After eight.”

“I was supposed to meet Carey in the garden at seven.” She swung her feet to the floor. “I don’t know why I’ve been sleeping so long for the past few days.”

“Perhaps because you don’t sleep at night.” Sabin sat up and leaned back against the headboard, watching her as she stood up and tucked her blouse into her jeans. “I know I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since you came here.”

“I rest very well.” But it wasn’t true, she didn’t sleep. She tossed and turned for the greater part of every night. The only time she had slept soundly during the last week were the afternoons when she lay in Sabin’s arms.

“Don’t lie to me, Mallory. You forget that I’ve made a study of your exceptionally lovely physique. I can tell when there’s a hair out of place or the faintest shadow beneath your eyes.”

She felt the color sting her cheeks. “I told you,
I do rest.” She turned to face him but he was only a dark silhouette in the dusk-cloaked room.

“Without pills?”

She hesitated. “When I can. I took one last night.”

“They’re not good for you.” He paused. “Come to me.”

“What?”

“When you can’t sleep, come to me.” His voice was rich, reverberating in the darkness with beautiful clarity. “And we’ll both sleep better.”

She tensed. “Will we?”

“Yes, we’ve grown used to each other in these last two weeks. I think we need each other.”

“All the more reason to break the habit.”

“Did it ever occur to you that some habits are good for you? I’m a hell of a lot better than pills. Trust me.”

“These are the only times I feel I can trust you.”

“Then stretch that trust a little longer. My word is good. If you come to me tonight, I’ll treat you exactly as I do every afternoon.”

“I don’t need you to sleep any more than I do those pills.”

“Why did you need those pills to begin with?”

A telephone ringing shrilly in the middle of the night
.

“I was going through a rough patch.”

“But you’re a very strong woman. I wouldn’t think you’d stumble into that pit. I wonder…” He trailed off as he gazed at her thoughtfully. “It’s been bothering me lately that you’re always so calm and disciplined.”

“Why should it bother you? It’s my nature.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, and it has nothing to do with my taking those pills.”

His lips twisted. “But the pills supposedly keep you serene and better able to face the world. Do you need that help?”

“Are you trying to psychoanalyze me?”

“I’m trying to understand you. Were your parents as placid as you are?”

She laughed with genuine amusement. “My parents were the most volatile, impulsive people you could ever hope to meet. Not at all like me. They were always arguing or making love or—”

“It sounds like you were the outsider. That must have been lonely for you.”

“They never meant to make me feel … You’re misinterpreting what I’m saying. I loved them very much, and they loved me too. Someone had to strike a balance.”

“So to strike that balance, you had to be the one in the family who was always in control, the eye in the center of the hurricane. I’ll bet you’ve never acted on impulse in your life.” He added softly, “Except when you married Ben.”

She didn’t like his probing. She felt more vulnerable than when she lay naked before him on that chaise lounge in the library. “Which says a good deal for the virtue of ignoring your impulses. Believe me, my marriage to Ben taught me a number of unpleasant lessons.”

“And so you smother your temper and always act reasonably and in complete control.”

“Why not? It’s the civilized way.”

“But is it
your
way? It would be interesting to find out.”

“It’s my nature,” she repeated as she moved toward the door. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

His voice followed her. “I hope you’re right about the pills, but I think you’ve been on them
too long to cut off easily. Wash them down the drain and then come to me.”

Mallory stared with revulsion at the brown vial on the night table. She disliked the pills as much as Sabin did, and she knew she shouldn’t have given in and taken one last night. But it was over. She wouldn’t take the blasted things tonight or ever again.

Three hours later she was still awake staring into the darkness.

Come to me
.

Sabin’s rich voice coming from the darkness. Rest. Serenity. Strength.

She turned on her side and tried to shut out the memory that held out a more potent temptation than the brown vial on the nightstand.

Come to me
.

“Did you take the pills?”

“No.”

“But you didn’t sleep either.” Sabin’s index
finger traced the shadows beneath her eyes. “You should have—”

“I hate people who tell me what I should do,” she interrupted as she lay down on the bed and went into his arms. She wearily closed her eyes. Home. Safety. She could sleep now. Sabin would keep her safe.

His voice came through the darkness as beautiful and strong as his arms holding her secure. “You should have come to me.”

“Did you take the pills?”

“I told you I don’t take them any longer.”

“Then throw them away.”

“That would be foolish. I might need—”

She stopped as she realized the word she had used.

Dependency.

“Yes,” he said softly. “The guerrilla sneaking up to slash your throat. Throw them away, Mallory.”

“Be quiet, Sabin.” Her arms slid around him. It was strange how afraid she had been of him in the beginning. Now she looked forward to these
hours in his arms with a sort of dark, sweet hunger. She would catch herself looking at the clock when she was rehearsing with Carey.

Only three hours and she could come to Sabin.

Only two hours and Sabin would hold her and she could rest.

He would stroke her hair and when she woke the world would be fresh and new.

Only one hour and he would draw the curtains and talk to her, his voice soft as velvet and bright as thunder in the dimness.

He bent forward, his words only a breath of sound in her ear. “Come to me.”

The pill was small and yellow in the palm of her hand. It looked as harmless as an M&M candy.

She closed her eyes.

It wasn’t harmless. It was a guerrilla with a machete.

Well, she wouldn’t let her throat be cut.

Her eyes opened, she threw the pill into the sink and washed it down the drain with the glass of water she had poured to ease it down her throat.

Then she took the brown vial and emptied it into the toilet and flushed down the pills.

Gone.

Sudden panic bolted through her. She was free, but it didn’t feel like freedom. It felt … frightening.

She turned and ran from her suite and down the long corridor. A moment later she threw open the door of Sabin’s suite.

The bedroom was dark but only a little darker than the artificial dusk to which she had become accustomed.

“It’s about time. I’ve been waiting for you.” His voice, coming from the direction of the big bed across the room, sounded wide awake. The light from the hall behind her poured into the room, and she could dimly discern Sabin leaning against the headboard as she had seen him so many times before.

She stood in the doorway, her breasts lifting and falling with her quickened breathing. “I threw the pills away.”

“Good.”

“I’m scared.”

“Bad.” He moved over and patted the bed. “Come home.”

Home.

She flew across the room.

He held back the covers, and she dove beneath them and into his arms.

She inhaled sharply. He was naked. “You’re not dressed.”

He chuckled. “What did you expect? I don’t sleep in my clothes.” His hand began to smooth her hair. “It’s only a minor difference.”

His body pressed against her own, warm and strong, different yet blessedly the same. She began to relax. “I shouldn’t be here.”

He didn’t answer. He began to stroke her hair.

“Why have you been so kind to me? When you forced me to stay here, I expected something else entirely.”

“Why shouldn’t I be kind to you when it pleases me as much as it does you?”

“Will you talk to me? I like to hear your voice.”

“What do you want me to say?”

A phrase suddenly popped into her mind that frightened her as much as the little yellow pill.

She quickly banished the thought. “Anything.”

“Shall I tell you about my new deal with those French vintners? That should put you to sleep in record time.”

“I don’t care.” She breathed deeply. She loved the way he smelled of soap and spicy cologne. His warmth enveloped her, holding off the darkness. “Whatever you like.”

“Whatever I like?” His voice was suddenly thick. “I think not.” He paused. “I’ll tell you about my first semester at Harvard. That should amuse you. It was the year I did everything wrong.”

“You?”

“I know it’s hard to believe, but even I went through a cocoon stage before I evolved into the perfect being I am now.”

She chuckled and drew closer.

It was going to be all right. She had been foolish to worry. She should have come to him sooner.

T
HE TOUCH OF
Sabin’s lips on her closed lids was butterfly-soft, warm as morning sunshine. “Wake up.” The words were spoken in a voice as soft as his lips.

She slowly opened her eyes to see him smiling down at her. He was leaning over her, his hands bracing his weight. The sheet had fallen away to reveal the chestnut hair thatching his chest.

“What big eyes you have. Aren’t you going to wish me good morning?”

A melting started somewhere in her stomach and spread swiftly through her body. She had a sudden desire to reach out and run her fingers over his chest, feel that virile mass of hair beneath her palms. Incredibly, her breasts began to swell,
pushing at the satin confines of her nightgown, the nipples hardening, readying.

The hot color scorched her cheeks as his gaze moved down, lingering on that explicit physical betrayal.

“Never mind.” His smile faded and his expression became blatantly sensual. “I’d rather have this kind of salutation any day.”

The air between them was so charged she had trouble breathing. “I… want to get up now.”

“That’s not what you want,” he said thickly, his gaze on her breasts. With an obvious effort he shifted his glance to her face. “I could make love to you now. It wouldn’t take much to push you over the edge.”

Her heart leapt and then began to pound erratically. He smelled of cologne and clean soap. His body was hard, powerful above her, and her own body felt soft and pliant, more consciously feminine than she had ever known it to be. She gazed up at him as if mesmerized.

He leaned slowly toward her, and she held her breath, her body tensing in anticipation. The rough mat of his chest hair brushed against her
breasts. Even through the satin material of the gown, she could feel his male fur caressing her nipples. The sensation was unbearably erotic.

She inhaled sharply, her fingers digging into the sheet covering the mattress.

Sabin moved his torso back and forth slowly, lazily, his eyes narrowed to watch her expression.

“But I’m not going to do it. Not today.” His lips brushed her forehead before he threw back the covers and got out of bed. “A cold shower for me. You just lay there and relax.”

Relax? She watched him move across the room. Every muscle of his nude body spoke of coiled tension and arousal, yet it was clear he had no intention of satisfying that arousal. “I don’t understand you.”

He paused in the doorway to glance ruefully down at his lower body. “I can see how you’d get mixed signals.” His gaze lifted to her face. “I’m not interested in quickies. Three hours after I set eyes on you, I was making love to you on that damn chaise lounge in the library. I have to show you that we can have more together.” His gaze moved slowly over her. “Do you think every time I lay beside you on that bed I don’t remember how
it felt to be inside you? But I had to get to know the way you thought as well as what turned you on. We started our relationship at the wrong end, and now we have to work backwards.” He turned on his heel and disappeared into the bathroom.

Mallory gazed at the closed door, only subliminally conscious of the sound of the spray of the shower. Panic rose, tightening her chest. What the devil had she gotten herself into? She knew how dangerous it was to act impetuously, and yet she had let Sabin lead her down the path of least resistance because he had made himself appear to be no threat. She had taken the comfort and solace he had offered and let him lull her into a state of contentment that bordered on an addiction as dangerous as those blasted pills.