After Midnight Part 24

He got to his feet reluctantly and helped her up. As he held her in front of him, his eyes were watchful. "You look different. Radiant."

She searched his eyes. "You meant it? About wanting to get married, to have a baby with me?"

"I meant every word," he said softly. His expression was breathlessly tender, and he seemed suddenly shocked as he looked at her. "I adore you!" he whispered huskily.

She smiled, her eyes misty with feeling, with delight. "Will you call me tomorrow?"

He nodded. "Like a shot. Come home with me. I'll strip you and myself and we'll lie naked in each other's arms until morning, even if that's all we can do."

"I have to go home." She nuzzled her face against his chest. She wanted to say the words, but he hadn't. It was too soon. But she owned him now. He was hers. She looked up and possession was written on her face. "Leave that slinky brunette alone," she said quietly. "You belong to me now."

"Honey, I couldn't touch another woman now if my life depended on it," he said evenly. "You can't imagine what you did to me."

"I'll get better with practice," she said.

He laughed delightedly. "Could I survive if it did?"

She smiled back. "Good night."

He caught her hand and lifted it, palm up, to his lips. "Dream of what we did."

He walked back toward the beach, where he'd left the small motor launch that he'd piloted over to see Nikki. She watched him go, her body tingling, her heart full. Life was very good, she thought. She couldn't regret what had happened. She was a woman now, and soon she'd be a wife. Kane Lombard's wife. Her feet hardly touched the ground all the way back up to the beach house.

n.o.body noticed that she was back. Phoebe and her male companion were dancing to loud music and munching potato chips. Nikki curled up on the sofa and dreamed of the future until it was time to go back into Charleston.

The telephone call early the next morning was so unexpected that at first she simply held on to the receiver and stared blindly at the wall.

"What did you say?" she stammered.

"I said, I got some very racy photos of you and Lombard last night. Hot stuff, lady. Suppose I turn them over to the tabloids?"

"Kane Lombard's father owns a tabloid," she said quickly.

"Not the only one. He doesn't mind slandering other people. But how is he going to like having his own son on the front page of somebody else's tabloid? Sister of congressional candidate makes out with her brother's worst enemy on the beach," he rattled off. "What headlines!"

She slid down the wall to the floor. "What do you want?" she stammered. If the telephone was bugged, she was dead. Her whole life flashed before her eyes.

"I want you to stay away from Lombard," he said. "And I want you to keep your mouth shut about why."

"But...!"

"You don't really think he wants to marry you?" he chided. "I've got some juicy photos of him with his mistress, the one he hasn't touched, remember? Taken two days ago. They were on the yacht, naked. Do you want me to send over some prints?"

She felt sick. She wrapped her arms around her legs. "You're perverted."

"Who isn't?" came the mocking reply. "If you go near Lombard, those pix go straight to the papers, with four-column cutlines. And we'll be watching. So be a good girl."

The line went dead. If only she'd had the presence of mind to tape it! She hadn't been followed. She knew she hadn't been followed. So how had they found her?

She buried her face in her hands. This couldn't be happening! Kane wanted to marry her. What would he think when she wouldn't talk to him, or see him? What if he caused a scene and these people were hiding outside with cameras to capture it all on film? Her heart stopped. It would be on all the news shows. Irate lover attacks congressional candidate's sister. Publicity. Bad publicity. Clayton would be knocked out at the polls with such sordid goings-on.

But Kane's character would be even more blackened, wouldn't it? She didn't know what to do now.

Derrie answered the knock on her door wearing a beige and gold and white caftan with her hair trailing down her back. She was ready for an early night, and not expecting company. It did occur to her that it might be Cortez, and because she thought of him as a friend, she opened the door a little eagerly.

When she found Clayton Seymour standing there, her heart skipped wildly. She'd actually thought it was over, that she felt nothing! How silly. Loving him was a bad habit, she thought miserably. If only she could break it!

The sight of her made Clayton stop in his tracks and just stare. He'd rarely ever seen Derrie like this. For some reason, he found it much more affecting than he should have. He smiled lazily. "Well, h.e.l.lo. Have you missed me?"

"Not particularly," she said. Her legs were trembling, but she managed to keep him from seeing.

He sighed. "Ah, well. I suppose Hewett's given you the big head, appointing you executive advisor. Maybe I should have done that myself."

"But you didn't think women were capable of handling that much responsibility."

"Bett is," he said maddeningly. "I didn't think you were. More fool, me." He stopped just inside the door and frowned as he looked at her. "I only asked you to call the television stations. Someone else would have done it anyway, you know."

"I do know. But it wasn't going to be me. What do you want, Clay?"

He shrugged, jamming his hands deep into his pockets. He hadn't realized until now how much he'd missed her. She was different now. More confident. Much less intimidated. He found himself attracted, more than ever. "I thought I might persuade you to come back."

She shook her head. "Not a chance. Especially not as long as you've got Haralson on your staff."

"What's wrong with Haralson?" he asked defensively. "Everybody attacks him lately. First Nikki, now you!"

"We're intuitive. You aren't. He'll drag you right down if you aren't careful," she said slowly. "You have no idea how much trouble you could be in because of him."

"Because he knows how to take advantage of a weakness in my worst enemy?" he laughed. "For heaven's sake, he's a political advisor. He's good at his job. Better at it than you were," he added. "I've never had so much media attention."

"You may get more than you want one day."

"If it's what I said about you, I've already apologized," he said, eyeing her. "You've changed, haven't you?" he asked suddenly. "You're different, somehow."

No doubt, she thought. Having responsibility and praise were new to her. Sam Hewett appreciated her abilities as Clay never had. As Cortez had said, she was only now fully utilizing her brain and her expensive college education.

"We all grow," she said noncommittally.

"You've done some wonderful things for Hewett," he tried again. "I" like your promotional ideas. They're solid without being sensational." He hesitated. "You could come back and we could try a few of them."

She smiled at him. He sounded almost boyish. "How's Bett?"

He grimaced, snapping his hands into his pockets. "She wants to get married," he said roughly. "She was the one woman in the world whom I never expected to think of it."

So Cortez had been right. Her heart sank. She would never have gotten Clay, not in a million years. Bett would always have the inside track.

Her face gave her thoughts away. Clayton winced as he looked at her. Derrie had loved him. Why hadn't he realized it in time? Now he was tangled up with Bett and Derrie was lost to him. She wasn't immune, but she was fighting the old attraction. As she grew in power and strength, she would meet other men. She would marry and have a family...

"I've been unfair to you in every way there is, haven't I?" he asked quietly. His pale eyes searched hers. "I used you, took you for granted, finally threw you out of the office and my life. And do you know what, Derrie?" He laughed bitterly. "The girl I hired to replace you is afraid to open her mouth. She can type, but she can't spell. She's pretty and sweet. But she isn't you."

"Why don't you let Bett run the office for you?" she asked dully. "She'd be a natural."

"Bett doesn't want to work for me. She wants to remain a lobbyist. She likes the money, you see. Even my salary can't compare to what she makes." He turned away to the window and stared out it. "She's deciding where we're going to live even now. What a girl."

"I'm sorry if you aren't happy," Derrie said. "But it's really none of my business."

He turned, his face solemn. "It was once."

"Those days are gone. I miss working for you, but I'm very challenged with Sam. He's a good boss." She forced a smile. "And we're going to beat your socks off at the polls in November."

His eyebrows levered up. "I'm no lost cause."

"Keep Haralson on and I can guarantee that you will be."

"He's spending the weekend in Was.h.i.+ngton."

He drew in a long, slow breath, and his eyes were hungry as they searched over her. "She tells me where she wants to go, what she wants to do. She even tells me what to do in bed." He smiled sadly. "Did you ever wonder how it would feel to sleep with me?"

She wouldn't blush. She wouldn't! "Once or twice," she confessed tautly.

His eyes narrowed and he smiled. "You're blus.h.i.+ng. You haven't ever done it, have you?"

She hated that superior att.i.tude, the way he was looking at her. "I dated a college boy in my senior year in high school," she said curtly. "He was handsome and very persuasive, and I was stupid. I slept with him, one time, and that's why I haven't slept with anybody since," she said, shocking him.

He moved closer, scowling. "Why?"

She s.h.i.+fted uneasily. She didn't like remembering. "Because I didn't want to. He parked the car and I thought we were just going to make out a little. But he pushed me down and before I even realized what was happening, he was..." She wrapped her arms tightly around her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "I hated it! He was in a hurry and it hurt awfully. Then he said that if I didn't like it, it was my own fault, because I'd led him on. All the girls did it, he said, so why should he have thought I was any different from them?"

He felt outraged. He'd never even suspected. He'd always thought that Derrie was a prude, that she never dated because she was afraid of being seduced. He hadn't thought it would be a reason like this.

"You should have taken him to court," he said curtly.

"What defense would I have used?" she asked bitterly. "I was in love with him, or so I thought. Everyone knew we were a couple. It would have been my word against his and he was captain of the football team and the eldest son of one of the most influential families in Charleston."

"I begin to see the light."

"I thought you might," she replied. "They talk about equality and justice. Let me tell you, the wealthy people make the laws and decide who pays the penalties. If you don't believe that, look at the inmates in any prison and see how many rich kids you find there."

"Were there consequences?" he asked.

"Luckily, no," she said heavily. "I didn't get pregnant and I had myself tested for HIV twice, months apart. But it scared me to death. I never wanted to take the same chance twice."

"You worked for me for six years," he said. "Why didn't you ever talk to me about it? It must have only just happened when I hired you, the first year I ran for the state legislature."

"It had," she said. "But I couldn't even tell my parents. How could I have told you?"

"He should have been arrested," he said angrily.

"Ironically, he died in an automobile accident the very next year," she said, lifting her eyes to his. "I didn't even cry when I heard. I guess I didn't have any tears left."

"Why should you?" His eyes slid down the caftan, lingering where her b.r.e.a.s.t.s thrust against it. Her silky hair flowed like waves of gold around her shoulders. She wasn't a beautiful girl, but she was disturbingly attractive. She was s.e.xy, he decided finally. He'd forced himself not to notice that before. He was involved with Bett, and he'd thought Derrie a virgin. But inside, he was churning, changing. He felt himself growing uncomfortable as the sensuality of her appearance worked on him.

"Derrie, do you know anything about Haralson?" he asked suddenly.

She moved away from him toward the kitchen. "Nothing that you won't find out eventually," she said, remembering her promise to Cortez to say nothing, even to Clay. Why she should trust a man she'd just met was strange, but she did. She knew somehow that he wasn't going to do anything to hurt the Seymours. He had it in for Haralson, though, and Derrie wasn't going to lift a finger to save that dirty dog.

He paused in the doorway, leaning against it while she put coffee on to brew. His face was troubled. "What you aren't telling me could cost me the election."

She turned. "Would that bother me, when I work for your closest compet.i.tor?" she asked mischievously.

He pursed his lips, smiling faintly. She was s.e.xy when she smiled like that.

He shouldered away from the door and moved toward her, intent in his eyes.

"You stop right there," she told him, wielding the scoop she was using to put coffee into the filter basket. "I'm seeing someone else. He's from Was.h.i.+ngton and he's very handsome..."

He didn't even slow down. She kept talking until he took the scoop and tossed it aside and suddenly pushed her back into the counter with the weight of his hips.

"Shut up..." he murmured against her mouth.

She stiffened at the unfamiliar contact with his aroused body. She hadn't even known that he got aroused in the six years she'd worked for him, although it was certain that he did with Bett.

Bett. She had to remember Bett. She did try, but his hands were framing her face, his thumbs coaxing her lips apart so that his mouth could press between them. He smelled of spice and soap and he tasted of coffee. She could taste the woody tang of it on her tongue when his mouth began to open and she breathed him.

A sound pa.s.sed her lips, but he ignored it. His mouth grew slowly more insistent until she stopped fighting the pleasure and gave in to it. He was warm and strong and he smelled good. She relaxed into his aroused body with a little sigh and felt his arms enfolding her.

Not until his long leg began to insinuate itself between hers through the caftan did her drowning mind come swimming back to reality.

"No," she gasped under his mouth.

He lifted his head. His eyes were as turbulent as hers. He frowned slightly. His gaze fell to her mouth and further down. He eased her back so that he could see the stiff peaks of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and their jerky, quick rise and fall. If he was aroused, so was she. He hadn't lost her. He hadn't!

His eyes lifted to hers. "Derrie," he said huskily, savoring the sound of her name on his tongue.

"I won't...sleep with you," she choked.

He moved back, just a little, his eyes curious, puzzled. He smiled. "I know. But you want to," he said, amazed.

"I've wanted to with a lot of men! It isn't just you!"

He knew better. He smiled, a little sadly. "I'm getting married, you know," he said wistfully. "And I've just realized that I don't want to. The thought of a lifetime with Bett makes me want to throw the election and sail to Bermuda."

"Sam Hewett and the rest of us would appreciate it," she managed breathlessly.

He chuckled. He felt better and brighter than he had for a long time. And all because of Derrie!

He let her go with flattering reluctance. "You still taste like a virgin, despite that cowardly so-and-so back in high school," he said quietly. "Suppose I give Bett the heave-ho and come back? What would you do?"

"Nothing until after the election," she said abruptly, although she was bluffing and they both knew it. "I won't fraternize with the enemy."