Starlight (3 page)

“Let’s just say I have an easy enough time making a fool of myself without doing it purposely.”

Impulsively, Karen raised her head and gently laid her lips against the rough line of his jaw. “Thank you,” she whispered softly.

He drew her slightly closer, and her mind whirled in a confused mixture of emotions. Surely she hadn’t imbibed that much champagne. A glass or two, three at the most. Why should this one man affect her like this?

“I didn’t want to let you go,” he whispered into her hair, as if admitting to a fault, his voice low and husky.

“I didn’t want to go, either.” She sighed and rested her head against the velvety texture of his suit jacket.

His fingers spread across the small of her back, molding her slender figure against him. The beat of his heart sounded in her ear, telling her he was as affected by their closeness as she. Slowly, his hand stroked the back of her neck, his fingers entwining with her hair.

It wasn’t necessary to talk. Karen hummed the melody as the musicians played, but the tune was inaudible compared to the glorious song her heart was singing.
Somehow she’d always known it would be like this. Matthew had claimed he met Madeline and decided to marry her all in the space of one day’s time. Karen had secretly scoffed. Choosing a life partner wasn’t something one did after only a few hours’ acquaintance. Now Karen realized her father had spoken the truth. Just as he had known, she knew now. She didn’t love Rand; not yet. That would come later. But Karen had never been more certain of anything in her life. It was crazy, unorthodox.

“You’re smiling, aren’t you?” Rand asked after some time.

Karen had a difficult time finding her voice or thinking coherently. When she did answer, her voice was weak and low. “Yes, I am. How … how did you know?”

“I just do. I can feel it.”

Karen didn’t want to talk, afraid words would diminish the wonder of this enchanted evening. Instead, she surrendered to the tide of contentment that engulfed them both.

He squeezed her, and his strong hand cut into her waist, arching her even closer, as if he feared letting her go. “This is insane.” His lips touched the crown of her hair, his breath stirring her short curls. But he didn’t loosen his hold, nor did he give an indication of wanting to let her go.

Evan interrupted them with the news that Matthew was ready to leave. “He’s waiting for you at the front entrance,” Evan told Karen.

Reluctantly, Karen withdrew from Rand’s arms.

“Dad and I rode together,” she explained unnecessarily.

“Stay,” Rand murmured. “I’ll take you home.”

“Fine, fine.” Evan gave Karen a boyish wink. “I’m pleased you two are enjoying yourselves.”

Slowly, Karen led the way off the dance floor, giving Rand time to reorient himself.

“I’ll only be a minute.” She left Rand beside the chairs they’d shared before dancing and hurried to meet Matthew. Without bothering to explain, she gave her father a peck on the cheek and told him she had a ride home and would talk to him in the morning. Leaving Matthew looking slightly perplexed, Karen rushed to the main part of the reception hall and Rand.

But Rand was nowhere to be seen. For an instant, panic filled her until comprehension came. This time she was wise enough to seek her coat before venturing into the cold.

Opening the glass door of the balcony, she saw him standing at the railing as before. He didn’t turn toward her, although she was sure he’d heard the door open.

“Rand,” she whispered, suddenly nervous.

He turned to her then, his face a mask of indecision and inner turmoil. Karen yearned to run to his arms and kiss away his misgivings, to assure him that this unfathomable feeling between them was right and good. But she was frozen, overcome by her own apprehensions.

“Rand, please,” she pleaded, “don’t shut me out.”

At the sound of her trembling voice, Rand’s hard features softened, and he opened his arms to her.

Hesitatingly, she came, sliding her hands around his middle. “I know it’s crazy. I don’t understand it, either,” she admitted, her voice low and faltering.

“I’ve never experienced anything like this.” His voice was a strange mixture of anger and wonder.

Karen wanted to assure him this phenomenon was as much a mystery to her. “Me either, never.”

“Oh, what the hell,” he groaned out before his mouth crushed down upon hers in a kiss that was both fierce and hungry. His arms, folded tightly around her, relaxed as the kiss continued. Their reaction shocked them both. It was as if a charge of lightning had arced between them, jolting them. They broke apart abruptly, and Karen’s breath came in uneven gasps. Had she been less unnerved, she might have noticed Rand’s breathing was just as uneven.

Gently, Rand pulled her back into his arms, as if he needed to further test this sensation. This time, his kiss was tender and sweet, his mouth settling firmly over hers, drawing from Karen her very soul. When he finished, she was trembling and weak.

“Dear heaven,” he moaned into her hair, “what’s happening?”

Karen laid her head against his shoulder. “It’s an enchanted evening, and you’re the gallant Perseus,” she whispered a little breathlessly, still caught in the wonder of his kiss.

“I’m hardly the gallant one,” Rand said with a hint of sarcasm. “It’s more like a bewitched Perseus held captive by the charms of the Lady Andromeda.” His finger and thumb stroked her chin sensuously.

Mentally, Karen recalled the mythological tale. “Perseus rescued Andromeda, remember? She was doomed without him.” Breaking from his hold, Karen examined the sky. “Rand, Andromeda’s there.” Excitement crept into her voice as she needlessly pointed to the heavens.

Rand’s arms surrounded her again. “Of course Andromeda’s there. Perseus needs her,” he murmured, as if admitting to his own lacking. “It’s been said she’s very
beautiful. May I examine her?”

Karen didn’t understand his meaning until his fingertips began gently caressing the contours of her face, causing her to blush. Her eyelashes fluttered downward in confusion.

“Not only soft and delicate but very, very lovely.” His husky voice was filled with reverence. Tucking a hand beneath her chin, he lifted her face while his mouth made an unhurried descent to claim her lips. Again, Karen’s mind whirled to a new height of sensual awareness.

“I can see a distinct advantage to your blindness,” Karen mumbled once the rapid beat of her heart stilled. “I’m no raving beauty.”

Her hands, pressing against his back, could feel his corded muscles tense. It was wrong to mention his handicap. “I shouldn’t have said that,” she began haltingly, uncertain. Her teeth bit into her bottom lip as if she wanted to bite back the thoughtless words. “I have much to learn, Rand. I guess I’m afraid of making another stupid blunder.”

“That was a compliment,” he said stiffly. “You spoke to me as you would any other companion. You didn’t attempt to rescue me or fall into the traps others do. People tend to think that because I’m blind I must also be mentally retarded. Nothing on God’s earth irritates me more. Treat me as you would any other man.”

“Why are you so angry?” Karen asked, attempting to hide the hurt in her voice.

Rand forcefully released his breath before a smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “I guess I do tend to stand on a soapbox every now and then. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t want to be treated like a blind man.”

“That won’t be difficult for me. I have a hard time remembering. You move with confidence and show none of the outward signs. I thought the blind used white canes or Seeing Eye dogs.”

“I have partial vision,” he explained, and his mouth returned to an inflexible line. “A bad case of the measles as a child ruined my vision, and it’s grown steadily worse over the years.”

“Then you can see some things?” she questioned.

“Very little. Soon it will be as you mentioned—the white cane or the dog.”

With infinite tenderness, Karen’s hands cupped his jaw to bring his face downward so she could very gently kiss each closed eye.

Rand groaned and pulled her tightly against him, his breathing ragged. “Oh, Karen,” he murmured, holding her fiercely.

“Andromeda,” she corrected with a smile.

They danced in each other’s arms until there was no more music. They spoke little, embraced by the marvel of the night, creating their own world on a starlit balcony.

Rand was met outside the hall by a lanky, older man who stared curiously when he saw Karen was with Rand.

“Carl.” Rand’s grip tightened around Karen’s waist. “I’d like you to meet the Lady Andromeda.”

Without the slightest hesitation, the man grinned, showing crooked teeth but a ready, warm smile. “Pleased, I’m sure,” he greeted her formally.

“I’m pleased, too, Carl. But to set the record straight, the name is Karen.”

Carl grinned again and opened the back door of the car for them. “Where to?” he asked cheerfully as he started the engine.

“Karen,” Rand whispered, “your address.”

“Oh, of course.” She supplied the information and leaned against the back of the seat until Rand’s arm cupped her shoulder, drawing her close to his side. They rode in silence, bathed in a rare kind of contentment.

Sooner than Karen wanted, Carl arrived at her apartment complex. Rand walked her to her door.

Gently, her hand stroked his face. “Thank you for the lovely, enchanted evening, Perseus.”

Rand’s kiss was tender and fierce all at the same time. Karen clung to him and moaned as the dizzy weakness spread through her limbs. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and she closed her eyes, surrendering to the charge of emotion Rand wrought in her.

Again, his mouth parted hers with a kiss as searing as it was devastating. “Goodbye, my lady,” he murmured, and pressed his lips against her fragrant hair.

Karen opened the apartment door and floated inside, her heart singing a glorious melody.

Karen woke to the smell and sounds of perking coffee. Reluctantly, she rose, looping the tie of her velour bathrobe around her slender waist. Stifling a yawn, she sauntered from her bedroom; the aroma of the coffee guided her into the small kitchen. She took a mug from the cupboard and poured herself a cup, ignoring the fact that the coffeepot was still perking.

“Ye shouldn’t be doing that.” A foggy voice broke through her consciousness. “You’ll get grounds in your cup.”

Surprise snapped Karen’s eyes open. “Dad! What are you doing here?”

An injured look narrowed the faded hazel eyes. “ ’Tis a fine greeting for your father.”

Karen lowered herself into the large overstuffed chair opposite Matthew. “Dad, as much as I love you, I must insist you stop entering my apartment like this.” She schooled her expression against the pleading puppy-dog look her father gave her.

“Forgive an old man’s curiosity.” He lowered his gaze, suddenly looking lost and aged beyond his years.

“All right, Dad, you’re forgiven. Gosh, you look awful.”

His mouth deepened into slanted grooves of amusement. “Too many dances with a demanding widow.” The look he cast her sent Karen into helpless giggles.

“Serves you right, old man.”

“You’re the bane of my life, you wicked child,” he teased lovingly. “Now, tell me about the fellow you met last night. Do you like him?”

Self-consciously, Karen centered her attention on the steaming mug cradled between her hands. “Very much.”

When she didn’t volunteer any further information, Matthew probed again. “Well, go on. What’s his name? When will you be seeing him again?”

“Dad, honestly.” Karen stood abruptly, her fluid movements displaying a subtle grace. “Did you suddenly join the FBI? I don’t like being interrogated. When will you realize I’m not your little girl anymore?” She didn’t mean to sound so angry.

“Lass,” Matthew pleaded, “you’ll always be my little girl.”

Karen’s mouth thinned defensively until she realized her father’s silver head had possessed only a salting of gray three years ago. He was aging right before her eyes. So much had changed in both their lives since her mother’s death. Matthew had lost more
than his wife and best friend. In the months that followed Madeline’s unexpected death, Matthew’s appreciation for life, his aspirations, even his personality had altered dramatically. Seeing her father now would have shocked someone who had known him three years before.

Shrugging in a gesture of defeat, Karen lowered herself into the chair and said, “His name is Randall Prescott; he’s a professor at the university. I like him, Dad, better than anyone I’ve met.” She paused, watching Matthew’s reaction. “Rand is blind.”

Matthew’s eyes clouded with uncertainty. “Blind.” His tongue tasted the word as if he found it unpleasant. “Lass, are you sure of your feelings?”

“I’m not sure of anything,” Karen murmured dryly. “All I know is that I found him to be the most intriguing man I’ve ever met. Something happened last night, to Rand and
me
.” She was quick to include herself.

“Something unusual. I can’t even put it into words. It was almost as if our spirits communicated.” She gave a short, embarrassed laugh. “I know that sounds crazy. Rand is tender and sensitive, but I don’t think he exposes that side of his nature often. I … I think I was privileged to see that in him. And, Dad, he listens.”

Matthew nodded. “I understand the blind often have an extremely good sense of hearing.”

“Not hearing,” she corrected. “He listens. He’s not so caught in his own ego that he felt the need to impress me. He was interested in me as a person, my thoughts, opinions. That’s listening, and there’s a world of difference.”

Matthew was studying Karen when she raised her eyes to his. “Yes, lass, that there is.”

“Maybe it was the music or the champagne; I don’t know.” Her mind whirled with the memory of the electricity that had sparked between them.

“I think the lad was responding to the sensitive chord in you, Karen. Do you remember as a child you were always the one to rescue lost or injured animals? And several people, too, as I recall.”

“Oh, Dad, I’m not rescuing Rand. For one thing, he doesn’t need it. He’s independent and proud. You’ve got to promise me you won’t tell him about those things. He’d think I’m making a charity case of him. He’d hate that.”