someone was trying to kill you.”
Eric glanced up at Roland, and both men frowned hard.
Tamara, not noticing, went on with her story.
“When we got here I heard Curt down below, smashing things. Jamey
called the police and I went down to stop Curt. I was terrified your
resting place was down there somewhere.”
She closed her eyes, and Eric knew she had truly been afraid for his
life.
“I told Jamey to stay by the front door, but he came down, too.”
“Stubborn lad,” Roland observed.
Tamara’s eyes lit then, and her chin came up.
“You should have seen him. He charged Curt like a bull, took him right
to the floor when Curt tried to hit me again.”
“Was the boy injured?”
Again it was Roland who spoke.
Eric was busy watching the changing expressions on Tamara’s face, and
reading the emotions behind them.
It changed again now, with a silent rage.
He felt it rise up within her, and its ferocity amazed him.
He hadn’t known she was capable of a violent thought.
Her voice oddly low, she said,
“If Curt had hurt Jamey, I’d have killed him.
” Eric shot a puzzled glance toward Roland, who seemed to be studying
her just as intently.
Tamara seemed to shake herself.
She blinked twice, and the fire in her eyes died slowly.
“The police arrived then. I pressed assault charges.
He’ll be in jail overnight, so you’ll have time to regroup.
” She placed a hand on Eric’s arm.
“I’m sorry the police got involved. They expect both of us to show up
tonight, to give statements.”
“I should be angry with you, Tamara, but not for calling the police.
For risking your life. You could have been killed.”
“If he’d killed you, I’d have died, anyway. Don’t you know that
yet?”
As she spoke she leaned into his embrace, and settled her head on his
shoulder.
“You have to get this place fixed up. Curt will flash his DPI card
around and get himself out by morning.”
“Unfortunate for him, should he decide to give up the protection of a
jail cell so soon.”
“Eric, you can’t … do anything to him. It would only give those
idiots at DPI more reason to hound your every step.”
“You think I care?”
“I care.”
She sat up and stared into his eyes.
“I intend to be with you from now on, Eric, wherever you go. I’d like
it if we were free to come and go as we please, and I could visit
Daniel from time to time. I want to enjoy our life together. Please,
don’t let your anger ruin it before it’s even begun.”
Her words worked like ice water on his rage.
The points she made were valid, and while he still thought St Claire a
moral deviate, he knew she loved the man.
He glanced helplessly toward Roland.
“I wouldn’t want to square off against her in a debate,” he said
dryly.
Eric sighed.
There was no way in God’s earth he could allow Curtis Rogers to get
away with what he’d done.
But he supposed he’d have to plot a fitting retribution later.
There was no use arguing with Tamara.
She hadn’t a vengeful bone in her beautiful body—except where this
boy, Jamey, was concerned.
And that puzzled him.
“As for the gate and the door,” he said, sensing her lingering worry
for his safety,
“I can make a few calls tonight and have a reliable crew here by first
light.”
“But he got in once, Eric,” Tamara said.
“Dogs!”
Roland stood quickly.
“That would solve it.
We’ll acquire ten—no, twelve—of those attack dogs you hear about.
Dobermans or some such breed.
Tear a man to shreds.
” “I think a direct line to the police department will be just as
effective.”
Eric couldn’t keep the amusement from his voice.
Roland did possess a brutal streak.
“An alarm that alerts the police the moment security is breached. I
admit, I hate depending on them for security, but it will only be
necessary until—” he stopped, and slanted a glance at Tamara “—until
I think of something better. Meantime, why don’t we visit the police
station and get the unpleasantness over with. We may still salvage
what remains of the night.
I had such plans….”
How he managed to make her laugh after what she’d been through tonight,
she couldn’t imagine.
But he did.
By the time they left the police station he was behind the wheel of
what he referred to as her “oddly misshapen automobile,” and she was
splitting a side over his shifting technique.
The house had been restored to order as much as possible.
Roland had left a fire blazing brightly, and a vase stood in the room’s
center, filled with twelve graceful white roses.
A card dangling from one stem drew her attention.
She lifted it and read,
“My thanks for your earlier heroism.
Roland.
” She shook her head, and turned when she heard strains of music
filling the room.
Mozart again.
“Your friend is certainly chivalrous.”
“You inspire that sort of thing in a man,” he told her.
She smiled and went into his arms.
“What about these plans you mentioned earlier?”
“I thought you might like to dance.”
She tilted her head back and kissed his chin.
“I would.”
“Oh, no. I couldn’t possibly dance with you dressed like that.”
She frowned, stepping away from him and looking down at her jeans and
sweatshirt.
“I admit, I’m not exactly elegant tonight, but” — “I’ve a surprise for
you, Tamara. Come.”
He turned her toward the stairs and urged her up them.
He led her into the bedroom she’d seen before, and left her waiting
inside the doorway while he lit two oil lamps.
He turned to a wardrobe, gripped its double handles and opened it with
a flourish.
Curious, she moved forward as he reached into the dark confines and
removed a garment carefully, draping it over his arms.
When he turned toward her Tamara’s heart skipped a beat.
It was something made for Cinderella.
The jade-colored fabric shimmered.
The neckline was heart shaped, the sleeves puffy and the skirt so fully
flared she knew there must be petticoats attached.
The green satin was gathered up from the hemline and held with tiny
white bows at intervals all along the bottom, to show the frilly white
underskirt.
Her mouth opened, but only air escaped.
“It belonged to my sister,” Eric told her.
“She used to cinch her waist with corsets, but she wasn’t as petite as
you.
I suspect it will suit you without them.”
She forced her eyes away from the dress and back to him her heart
tightening.
“Your sister… Jaqu
eline. And you’ve kept it all this time.”
“I supposed I am a bit sentimental where my little sister is concerned.
She wore that gown the night she accompanied me to a performance of
young Amadeus, in Paris.”
Her eyes had wandered downward to the glittering silk, but snapped up
again.
“Mozart?”
“The same. She was not overly impressed, as I recall.”
He smiled down at her.
“I should like to see you in the gown, Tamara.”
She gasped.
“Oh, but I couldn’t—it’s so precious to you.
My God, it must have cost a fortune to keep it so well preserved all
this time.
” “And no good deal of fuss, as well,” he said.
“But nothing is too precious for you, my love. It will make me happy
to see you wear it. Do it for me.”
She nodded, and Eric left the room.
She was surprised, but didn’t question it.
She shimmied out of her own clothing, including her bra, since the
upper halves of her breasts would be revealed by the daring neckline.
She touched the dress reverently, and stepped into it with great care,
terrified she’d rip it while putting it on.
She slid her hands through the armholes, and adjusted the shoulders.
“Eric!”
At her call he returned, and she presented her back to him.
Wordlessly he tightened the laces and tied them in place.
He took two steps backward, and she turned slowly to face him.
His gaze moved over her, gleaming with emotion.
He blinked quickly and shook his head.
“You are a vision, Tamara. Too lovely to be real. I could almost
wonder if you would disappear, should I blink.”
“Does it really look all right?”
It felt tight, and her breasts were squished so high they were fairly
popping out of the thing.
Eric smiled, took her hand and turned her toward the wardrobe doors,
which still stood open.
She hadn’t noticed the mirrors on the inside of the doors, but she did
now.
He left her standing there and turned to lift a lamp, better for her to
see her reflection.
She caught her breath again.
It wasn’t Tamara Dey looking back at her.
It was a raven-haired eighteenth-century beauty.
She couldn’t believe the transformation.
And the dress!
It was more like a work of art than a piece of clothing.
She glanced gratefully up at Eric, then froze, and looked back toward
the mirror again.
“It’s true! You have no reflection!”
“An oddity I still seek to solve, love.”
He closed the doors and took her hand.
“Now, about the dancing…”
He led her back downstairs into the roomy parlor, thumbed a button and
the piano sonata stopped abruptly.
A moment later a minuet lilted from the speakers.
Eric faced her, pointed one toe and bowed formally.
Tamara laughed, picking up his thoughts.
She dropped into a deep curtsy, imitating those she’d seen in movies.
He took her hand and drew her to her feet.
“Look at me as we turn,” he instructed moments later.
“The eyes are as important to the dance as the feet.”
She fixed her gaze to his, rather than keeping it on her bare toes
peeping from beneath the hemline.
She tried to imitate his pace as they circled one another.
“That’s it.”
His voice was soft but his gaze intense as the flames in the hearth.
“You’re a quick study.”
“I have an excellent teacher.”
She met him as he stepped forward, then retreated just as he did.
“You must have danced with every beautiful girl in Paris.
” His lips quirked upward.
“Hardly.
I always loathed this type of thing.
” He lifted her hand in his, high above their heads, placed his other
hand on her buttocks and urged her to turn beneath their joined
fingers. ” Perhaps one needs the right partner.
” “I know what you mean. I never liked dancing before, either, even in
high school.”
She stopped abruptly.
“Now you’ve broken the rhythm. We shall have to begin again.”
“No. I think it’s my turn to be the teacher.”
She stepped away from him and hurried to the stereo, fiddling with
buttons until she’d stopped the CD, and turned on the FM stereo.
She scanned stations until she heard the familiar harmony of The
Righteous Brothers on the oldies station.
“Perfect.”
She went back to Eric, slipped her arms around his neck and pressed her
body as close to his as the full skirted dress would allow.
“This is the way my generation dances.
when they find the right partner.
Put your arms around my waist and hold me close.
” He did, and she settled her head on his shoulder and very slowly
began to sway their bodies in time to ” Unchained Melody.
” “Your method does have its merits. Is this all there is to it?
Certainly easily learned.”
“Well, there are variations.”
To demonstrate, she turned her face toward him and nuzzled his neck
with her lips.
He moved his hands lower, cupping her buttocks and squeezing her to
him.
He lowered his head and nibbled her ear.
“You’re a quick study,” she told him, repeating his compliment.
“I have an excellent teacher,” he replied.
He lifted his head slowly, moving his lips to her chin and then
He kissed her deeply, leaving her breathless and warm inside.
His hands at the small of her back, he bent over her and moved his
tantalizing lips down the front of her throat to kiss her breasts.
She arched backward, her hands tangling in his hair.
Her fingers nimbly loosened the ribbon and threaded in the thick jet
waves.
One of his hands came around her, to scoop a breast out of its satin
confines and hold it to his mouth.
He nicked his tongue over the nipple, already throbbing and hard, then
closed his lips around it and suckled her roughly.
She didn’t realize he’d moved her until she felt her back pressed to a
wall.
She opened her eyes, forcing words despite the sighs of pleasure he was
evoking.
“Eric.
what about.
Roland.
” “He knows better than to interrupt.
” He had to stop what he was doing to speak, but he quickly returned to
the business of driving her crazy with desire.
When she strained against his mouth he responded by closing his teeth
on her nipple.
She shuddered with pleasure.
He anchored her to the wall with his body and used his hands to gather
the voluminous skirts upward in the front, no easy task.
Nonetheless, he soon had them arranged high enough to allow his hands
ample access to her naked thighs and the unclothed moistness between
them.
His hand stilled when it found no scrap of nylon barring its way.
She’d seen no need for panties, knowing instinctiv
ely where the night
would lead.
His fingers moved over her, opened her and slipped inside, stroking her
to a fever pitch.
When they finally moved away it was only to release his own barriers,
and then his manhood, hot and solid, nudged against her thigh.
His hands slipped down the backs of her legs, and he lifted her.
He speared her with a single, unerring thrust, and Tamara’s head fell
backward as the air was forced from her lungs.
That action put her breasts once again in reach of his mouth and he
took advantage.
She locked her legs around his body, her arms around his neck, and she
rode him like an untamed stallion.
He drove into her, his hands clutching her buttocks like a vise and
pulling her downward with every upward thrust.
In minutes he trembled, and she hovered near a violent release.
His teeth on her breasts clamped tighter, and rather than pain she felt
intense pleasure.
That other kind of climax enticed her nearer.
Her entire body vibrated, her every nerve ending tensed at the two
places where they were joined.
Closer and closer he drove her, until she writhed with need.
Even when the spasms began, she craved more.
“Please,” she moaned, he fingers raking through his hair.
It was all the encouragement he needed.
She felt the prick at the tip of her breast, and then the unbearable
tingling as he sucked harder.
With his first greedy swallows she exploded in sensation, both climaxes
rocking her at once.
Her entire body shook with pleasure, even as she realized he’d
stiffened, plunged himself into her one last time and groaned long and
low against her heated skin.
As if his knees had weakened he sank slowly to the floor, taking her
with him.
He brought her down on top of him, still not withdrawing from her.
He released her breast and cradled her to his chest, rocking her
slowly.
“My God, woman,” he whispered into her hair.
“You take me higher than I knew was possible. You thrill me to the
marrow.
Have I told you how very much I love you?
” “Yes, silently. But I won’t mind if you tell me again.”
His lips caressed her skin, just above her temple.
“More than my own existence, Tamara.
There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.
I would die for you.
” She licked her lips.
“Would you meet with Daniel?”
He hesitated, and she felt the tightening of his jaw.