Page 4
Story: Capture the Rainbow
“You’re not interested?” Willet asked. “You’re going to leave her to Balding then?”
“No!” The violence of his reply surprised even himself. He drew a deep breath and made a conscious effort to regain his usual composure. His fierce response to the idea of Balding making love to her had caught him off guard. But at least it had answered the question he had been asking himself.
A reckless little smile curved his lips as he finished his brandy in one swallow. Why the hell had he hesitated anyway? He had always had a taste for the bizarre and unusual and this response certainly qualified in that area. There was no way he was going to let another man take what he oddly felt was his own. He thrust his empty glass at Willet. “Get rid of this, will you, Ron?” he asked. “I think perhaps I’ll follow your advice and sit in on the game. It might prove interesting.” He turned and strode across the crowded room to the staircase.
Dave opened several doors, finally discovering the guest bedroom that was obviously being used as a cloak room. There was a closet open, jammed with furs and velvet cloaks of every description, and the king-size bed was overflowing with other wraps. “Oh, there’s nothing wrong with you; you couldn’t be more right,” he said caustically. “You always worry about wizards turning you into frogs.” He shut the door behind them. “What does your wrap look like?”
“It’s chiffon and it matches my gown,” she said absently. “I wasn’t worrying about him turning me into a frog. I told you they only bewitch royalty.”
“It’s not here.” He turned from the closet, moved swiftly over to the bed, and began to toss wraps carelessly aside as he searched for the scrap of cinnamon chiffon. “It’s probably on the bottom: Sheila’s always is.”
“I’ll find it.” She joined him at the bed and knelt on the area he had cleared with his ruthless pillaging. She quickly located the sheer bit of chiffon and waved it triumphantly. “Got it.” She draped the stole dramatically over her chestnut head and around her lower face like an Oriental veil. “Come with me to the Casbah,” she intoned huskily, her brown eyes dancing.
“Dammit, quit kidding around,” Dave said in exasperation. His hands closed on her shoulders as he prepared to haul her off the bed.
“I can see how you might be annoyed.”
The voice was deep and faintly cynical. Kendra didn’t have to glance at the figure leaning indolently against the door jamb to know it was Joel Damon. She wasn’t even surprised.
“When a lady invites you to accompany her to a bedroom, it’s very frustrating when she starts playing games instead of getting down to the business at hand.” Damon strolled into the room and closed the door with utmost care behind him. His smile deepened and seemed oddly feral to Kendra. “And I trust itwasbusiness, pretty lady?”
Dave released her and straightened slowly. “I think you have the wrong idea, Joel,” he said quietly. “I was just about to take her home. We were looking for her wrap.”
“Of course you were,” Damon said smoothly as he strolled over to the bed and stood looking down at Kendra. She was conscious of a curious tension beneath that mocking control and saw a flicker of that bewildering anger in the depths of his eyes. His hand reached out to push the chiffon veiling from her head and it fell to her shoulders. “I’m sure you were having an exceptionally good time doing it, too. I really should apologize for barging in, but I was compelled to interrupt you. There are some reporters downstairs and we wouldn’t want to give them cause to write about the orgies at my innocent little get-together, now would we?”
Orgy? Dave and her in an orgy? It was too much! Kendra threw back her head and laughed.
Damon cocked his head; his eyes narrowed on her face. “You have the sexiest laugh I’ve ever heard,” he observed bemusedly. “I heard you laugh several times tonight, but I was too far away to hear you speak. Talk to me, pretty lady.”
Her eyes locked with his in an intense, mesmerizing stare. Then she smiled impishly. “My name is Kendra Michaels. And I’mnota princess.”
“How unfortunate,” Damon drawled. “But I’m sure you have many other attributes. That hoarse throaty little voice is definitely one of them. It reminds me of the sound a kitten makes when it runs its claws over velvet.”
“I think she’s had a bit too much to drink, Joel.” Dave’s voice was wary. “I’d better take her home.”
That was the second time Dave had accused her of that. “I’m perfectly sober,” she said indignantly. “I told you I’ve only had two glasses of champagne.”
“You heard the lady.” Damon’s lips twisted cynically. “She knows exactly what she’s doing. I rather thought she did.”
“Of course I do,” Kendra said firmly. Ahh, but if she had thought him a sorcerer across the room downstairs, it was a mild witchery compared to his spell at close range. His olive eyes were even more brilliant and mesmerized her with a force as potent as the most magic elixir. She licked her lower lip nervously and his gaze followed the motion with a heated absorption that made her breath leave her body. “But maybe Dave’s right and I’d better go home.”
“Yes, we’d better leave.” Damon’s voice was a little thick. He turned abruptly to Dave and said crisply, “I’ll take care of her. Go on downstairs and play host for me. God knows I’m bored enough with the role.”
“You’ll take her home?” Dave frowned uncertainly.
“Do you think I’m going to ravish her on the spot?” Damon asked evasively. “I told you I didn’t want any orgies at my party. It’s very bad form. We’ll leave in a few minutes. I just want to get to know Miss Michaels a little better.”
“Kendra?” Dave asked.
Poor Dave, she thought. He was obviously concerned about her and it was equally evident he didn’t want to offend Joel Damon, who could make or break his career with the utmost ease.
“I’ll be fine. Dave,” she said gently. “Mr. Damon can take me home. Why don’t you do as he says?”
“If you’re sure.” There was an unquestionably relieved expression on Dave’s face as he turned toward the door. “I’ll give you a call in the morning, Kendra.”
The door had scarcely closed when Damon dropped down on the bed beside her, pushing her from her kneeling position back on her heels. His hands were gentle on her bare shoulders but nevertheless she was startled. Then his hands were gone and she felt cold and lonely.
“It was wise of you to let him go,” he murmured. “I think if you had offered any objection at all, Dave actually would have put up a fight. That says quite a bit for the potency of your sex appeal, because Dave’s a very ambitious young man.”
“No!” The violence of his reply surprised even himself. He drew a deep breath and made a conscious effort to regain his usual composure. His fierce response to the idea of Balding making love to her had caught him off guard. But at least it had answered the question he had been asking himself.
A reckless little smile curved his lips as he finished his brandy in one swallow. Why the hell had he hesitated anyway? He had always had a taste for the bizarre and unusual and this response certainly qualified in that area. There was no way he was going to let another man take what he oddly felt was his own. He thrust his empty glass at Willet. “Get rid of this, will you, Ron?” he asked. “I think perhaps I’ll follow your advice and sit in on the game. It might prove interesting.” He turned and strode across the crowded room to the staircase.
Dave opened several doors, finally discovering the guest bedroom that was obviously being used as a cloak room. There was a closet open, jammed with furs and velvet cloaks of every description, and the king-size bed was overflowing with other wraps. “Oh, there’s nothing wrong with you; you couldn’t be more right,” he said caustically. “You always worry about wizards turning you into frogs.” He shut the door behind them. “What does your wrap look like?”
“It’s chiffon and it matches my gown,” she said absently. “I wasn’t worrying about him turning me into a frog. I told you they only bewitch royalty.”
“It’s not here.” He turned from the closet, moved swiftly over to the bed, and began to toss wraps carelessly aside as he searched for the scrap of cinnamon chiffon. “It’s probably on the bottom: Sheila’s always is.”
“I’ll find it.” She joined him at the bed and knelt on the area he had cleared with his ruthless pillaging. She quickly located the sheer bit of chiffon and waved it triumphantly. “Got it.” She draped the stole dramatically over her chestnut head and around her lower face like an Oriental veil. “Come with me to the Casbah,” she intoned huskily, her brown eyes dancing.
“Dammit, quit kidding around,” Dave said in exasperation. His hands closed on her shoulders as he prepared to haul her off the bed.
“I can see how you might be annoyed.”
The voice was deep and faintly cynical. Kendra didn’t have to glance at the figure leaning indolently against the door jamb to know it was Joel Damon. She wasn’t even surprised.
“When a lady invites you to accompany her to a bedroom, it’s very frustrating when she starts playing games instead of getting down to the business at hand.” Damon strolled into the room and closed the door with utmost care behind him. His smile deepened and seemed oddly feral to Kendra. “And I trust itwasbusiness, pretty lady?”
Dave released her and straightened slowly. “I think you have the wrong idea, Joel,” he said quietly. “I was just about to take her home. We were looking for her wrap.”
“Of course you were,” Damon said smoothly as he strolled over to the bed and stood looking down at Kendra. She was conscious of a curious tension beneath that mocking control and saw a flicker of that bewildering anger in the depths of his eyes. His hand reached out to push the chiffon veiling from her head and it fell to her shoulders. “I’m sure you were having an exceptionally good time doing it, too. I really should apologize for barging in, but I was compelled to interrupt you. There are some reporters downstairs and we wouldn’t want to give them cause to write about the orgies at my innocent little get-together, now would we?”
Orgy? Dave and her in an orgy? It was too much! Kendra threw back her head and laughed.
Damon cocked his head; his eyes narrowed on her face. “You have the sexiest laugh I’ve ever heard,” he observed bemusedly. “I heard you laugh several times tonight, but I was too far away to hear you speak. Talk to me, pretty lady.”
Her eyes locked with his in an intense, mesmerizing stare. Then she smiled impishly. “My name is Kendra Michaels. And I’mnota princess.”
“How unfortunate,” Damon drawled. “But I’m sure you have many other attributes. That hoarse throaty little voice is definitely one of them. It reminds me of the sound a kitten makes when it runs its claws over velvet.”
“I think she’s had a bit too much to drink, Joel.” Dave’s voice was wary. “I’d better take her home.”
That was the second time Dave had accused her of that. “I’m perfectly sober,” she said indignantly. “I told you I’ve only had two glasses of champagne.”
“You heard the lady.” Damon’s lips twisted cynically. “She knows exactly what she’s doing. I rather thought she did.”
“Of course I do,” Kendra said firmly. Ahh, but if she had thought him a sorcerer across the room downstairs, it was a mild witchery compared to his spell at close range. His olive eyes were even more brilliant and mesmerized her with a force as potent as the most magic elixir. She licked her lower lip nervously and his gaze followed the motion with a heated absorption that made her breath leave her body. “But maybe Dave’s right and I’d better go home.”
“Yes, we’d better leave.” Damon’s voice was a little thick. He turned abruptly to Dave and said crisply, “I’ll take care of her. Go on downstairs and play host for me. God knows I’m bored enough with the role.”
“You’ll take her home?” Dave frowned uncertainly.
“Do you think I’m going to ravish her on the spot?” Damon asked evasively. “I told you I didn’t want any orgies at my party. It’s very bad form. We’ll leave in a few minutes. I just want to get to know Miss Michaels a little better.”
“Kendra?” Dave asked.
Poor Dave, she thought. He was obviously concerned about her and it was equally evident he didn’t want to offend Joel Damon, who could make or break his career with the utmost ease.
“I’ll be fine. Dave,” she said gently. “Mr. Damon can take me home. Why don’t you do as he says?”
“If you’re sure.” There was an unquestionably relieved expression on Dave’s face as he turned toward the door. “I’ll give you a call in the morning, Kendra.”
The door had scarcely closed when Damon dropped down on the bed beside her, pushing her from her kneeling position back on her heels. His hands were gentle on her bare shoulders but nevertheless she was startled. Then his hands were gone and she felt cold and lonely.
“It was wise of you to let him go,” he murmured. “I think if you had offered any objection at all, Dave actually would have put up a fight. That says quite a bit for the potency of your sex appeal, because Dave’s a very ambitious young man.”