"What did you say is the name of this town?" Margot
demanded. "Prescott? Are you sure it isn’t Peyton Place?"
They both laughed, and the waiter approached then to ask
their preference for lunch. They both chose the buffet, and
went inside to make their selections. Faith was acutely aware of a dark gaze following her every move, and wished Margot hadn’t been so set on eating in the courtyard. She would much rather have been shielded from his view. Who could have guessed that he would be in New Orleans today, though, or that in a city of this size they would immediately run into each other? True, the Court of Two Sisters was a popular restaurant, but New Orleans was larded with popular restaurants.
Gray and his business associate left the restaurant not long after Faith and Margot returned to the table with their loaded plates. He paused beside Faith. "I do want to talk to you," he said. "Come to my suite tonight at six. I’m at the Beauville Courtyard."
She hid her dismay. The Beauville was a lovely, mid-size hotel with a great atmosphere, built around an open courtyard. She had booked tour groups and vacationers in there many times. If Gray owned it, she would have to find another lovely, mid-size hotel with a great atmosphere, because she didn’t dare use his again. In answer to his command, for that was what it was, she shook her head. "No. I won’t be there."
His eyes gleamed. "Then take your chances," he said, and walked away.
"Take your chances?" Margot echoed indignantly, staring at his broad back. "What the hell did he mean by that? Was he
threatening
you?"
"Probably," Faith said, lifting a bite of pasta salad to her mouth. She closed her eyes in delight. "Mmmm, taste this. It’s wonderful."
"Are you out of your mind? How can you eat when Mr. Macho just threatened to… do something, I guess." Frustrated, Margot picked up her fork and tasted the pasta salad. She paused. "This is good. You’re right, worrying about him can wait until after we eat." Faith chuckled. "I’m used to his threats." "Does he ever carry through with them?" "Always. One thing about Gray, he means what he says, and he isn’t shy about throwing his weight around."
Margot’s fork clattered to the table. "Then what are you going to do?"
"Nothing. After all, he didn’t actually threaten anything specific."
"That means you have to be on your guard against everything."
"I am anyway, where he’s concerned." Pain pierced her at her own words, and she looked down at her plate to hide it. How wonderful it would be to feel safe and relaxed with Gray, to feel she could trust that all his ruthless determination, his vital intensity, would be used in defense of her rather than against her. Did Noelle and Monica know how lucky they were, to have someone like him standing ready to go to battle on their behalf? She loved him, but he was her enemy. She could never let herself forget that, not let wishful thinking cloud her common sense.
Deliberately she steered the conversation into safer waters, namely the few problems that had developed with her in Prescott rather than on the scene in Dallas. She was relieved that the problems
were
few, and relatively minor. Some difficulties had been expected, but Margot was a good business manager and got on well with the travel agents in the other offices. The only real difference was that now Margot was the one traveling around, instead of Faith, though there would be times when Faith’s presence was required. For the most part, everything had worked out. They decided that, since Faith was so close to Baton Rouge and New Orleans anyway, she would continue overseeing those offices, because it would be foolish for Margot to fly or drive all that way. Margot was a little disappointed, because she was entranced with New Orleans, but she was also extremely practical, and the change was her suggestion. There would be times when it wouldn’t be convenient for Faith to get to either city, so she would content herself with the occasional visit.
After lunch, they parted company outside the restaurant, for Margot’s hotel was in the opposite direction from where Faith had left her car. It was even hotter now than it had been before, the mugginess making the air feel thick, hard to
breathe. The smell of the river was stronger, and black clouds were looming on the horizon, promising a spring thunderstorm that would temporarily relieve the heat, then turn the streets into a steam bath. Faith speeded up her steps, wanting to be on her way home before the storm
broke.
As she drew even with a recessed doorway that led into a darkened, deserted shop, a strong hand seized her arm from behind and dragged her into the doorway.
Mugged!
she thought, and anger flashed through her, red-hot and reckless. She had struggled too hard for what she had to give it up without protest, the way the police advised. Instead she jabbed her elbow backward, slamming it into a hard belly and eliciting a very satisfactory grunt from her assailant. She turned, her fist drawn back, and belatedly opened her mouth to yell for help. She had a blurred impression of height and wide shoulders, then she was jerked hard against him and her voice was muffled against an expensive, oatmeal-colored Italian suit.
"God Almighty," Gray said, amusement rich in his deep voice. "You little redheaded wildcat, if you’re as wild as this in bed, it must be a hell of a ride."
Shock at his comment mingled with relief at his identity, and neither diluted her anger. Breathing hard, she shoved at his chest, freeing herself. "Damn you! I thought I was being mugged!"
His eyebrows drew together. "And you started slinging that sharp little elbow?" he asked in disbelief, rubbing his stomach. "What if I
hadbeen
a mugger, and had a knife or a gun? Don’t you know you’re supposed to give up your purse rather than chance getting hurt?"
"Like hell," she snapped, pushing her hair out of her face.
His face cleared, and he laughed. "No, I guess you wouldn’t." He reached out and tucked a fiery strand behind her ear. "Attack first and think about it later, hm?"
She jerked her head away from his touch. "Why did you grab me like that?"
"I’ve been following you since you left the restaurant, and thought this would be as good a place as any for our little
chat. You really should pay more attention to who’s behind you."
"Skip the lecture, if you don’t mind." She glanced at the sky. "I want to get to my car before that storm gets here." "We can go to my hotel – or yours – if you don’t want to talk here."
"No. I’m not going anywhere with you." Especially to a hotel room. He kept making those sexually loaded remarks, alarming her. She didn’t trust his motives, and she didn’t trust herself to resist him. All in all, it was best to stay as far away from him as she could.
"Then here it is." Gray looked down at her, standing so close to her in the narrow space of the doorway that her breasts were almost brushing his suit. When he had jerked her against him to muffle her scream, he had felt them, firm and round and luscious. He wanted to see them, wanted to touch them, taste them. He was so physically aware of her that he felt as if he were standing in the middle of an electrical field, with the air snapping and sizzling around them, sparks flying. Fighting with her was more exhilarating than making love to other women. Maybe as a young girl she had been as shy as a fawn, but she had grown into a woman who wasn’t afraid of anger, hers or anyone else’s.
"I’ll buy the house from you," he said abruptly, reminding himself why he had wanted to talk to her. "I’ll give you double what you paid for it."
Her green eyes narrowed, making them look even more catlike. "That isn’t a good business decision," she said, her tone light, but with temper still seething just below the surface.
He shrugged. "I can afford it. Can you afford to turn it down?"
"Yes," she said, and smiled.
The satisfaction in that smile almost made him laugh again. So she had made something of herself, had she? More than had been obvious at first; if she had a district manager, then obviously she had other employees, in several locations. He felt unwilling pride at what she had accomplished swell in his chest. He knew in intimate detail how little she
had possessed when he’d had the Devlins thrown out, because he had watched her frantically picking her things up out of the dirt. Most people had a backup system of friends and relatives, pooled resources; Faith had had nothing, making her accomplishments all the more remarkable. If she’d had
his
assets, Gray thought, she might own the whole state by now. It wouldn’t be easy to get rid of a woman with that kind of grit.
Lust coiled and tightened in his guts. He’d never been attracted to weak, helpless women who needed protecting; he had enough of that with his family. There was nothing weak about Faith.
He studied her face, seeing both the resemblance to Renee and the differences. Her mouth was wider, more mobile, her lips red and lush and as velvety as rose petals. Her skin was perfect, with a porcelain texture that would show the imprint of a touch, a kiss. He thought of marking her with his mouth, kissing his way down her body until he reached the soft folds between her legs, folds that protected places even more tender. The image brought him to full, painful erection. Standing this close to her, he could smell the sweet, delicious scent of her skin, and he wondered if that sweetness would be more intense between her legs. He had always loved the way women smelled, but Faith’s scent was so enticing that every muscle in his body tightened with need, making it difficult for him to think of anything else.
He knew he shouldn’t do it, even as he reached for her. The last thing he wanted was to follow his father’s example; he still couldn’t think of his father’s leaving without feeling the hurt and anger, the betrayal, as fresh as if it had just happened. He didn’t want to hurt Noelle and Monica, didn’t want to revive that old scandal.
There were a hundred reasons, all of them good, why he shouldn’t want Faith Devlin in his arms, but in that instant none of them mattered a rat’s ass. His hands closed on her waist, and the feel of her, warm and soft, so vibrant that his palms tingled where he touched her, went to his head like a potent wine. He saw her eyes widen, the black pupils expanding until only a thin rim of green remained. Her hands lifted and flattened against his chest, the placement
covering his own nipples, and a shiver of response rippled his skin. Inexorably, his gaze fastened on her mouth, he drew her closer until her slim body rested against him. He felt her legs tangle with his, her firm breasts push against his stomach, saw those soft, full lips part as she drew in a startled breath. Then he lifted her on tiptoe and bent his head, and fed that particular hunger.
Her lips felt like rose petals, too, soft and velvety. He slanted his head and increased the pressure of his mouth, forcing them to open, a flower blooming at his command. Blood thundered through his veins and he pulled her tighter, sliding his arms around her and holding her welded to his body, letting her feel the swollen ridge of his erection against the softness of her belly. He felt her shudder, felt the convulsive movement of her hips, arching into him, and fierce male triumph flooded him. Her arms slid upward over his shoulders, to twine around his neck, and her teeth parted to allow him deeper access. A low growl sounded deep in his throat, and he took it, plundering her mouth with his tongue. Her taste was sweet and hot, flavored with the strong coffee she had drunk with her dessert. Her tongue curled around his in heated welcome, then she sucked daintily, holding him within her mouth.
He drove her backward, forcing her against the locked and boarded door. Dimly he could hear the voices of the people passing on the sidewalk behind them, hear the sullen rumble of thunder, but they meant nothing. She was live fire in his arms, not struggling against his kiss, not just accepting it, but responding wildly to his touch. Her lips trembled and clung and caressed. He wanted more, wanted everything. Deliberately he cupped her buttocks and lifted her, drawing her hips inward so that his erection was nestled in the soft notch of her legs. He rubbed her back and forth against him, groaning aloud at the exquisite pressure.
Rain pattered on the street, signaling the arrival of the storm, and there was a scurry of movement as people darted for cover. A clap of thunder made him lift his head and look around, a little irritated by this intrusion into the sensual haze that clouded his mind.
Whether it was the thunder or his own reaction to it that
broke the spell on Faith, she suddenly stiffened in his arms and began shoving against him. He caught a glimpse of her furious face and quickly set her on her feet, releasing her and stepping back before she began screaming bloody murder.
She wriggled past him, onto the sidewalk, where the rain immediately soaked her, and turned to face him. Her eyes were yellowish with turbulence. "Don’t touch me again," she said, her voice rough and low. Then she turned and began walking as fast as she could, her head lowered against the rain that swept down the narrow street like a gray curtain. He started after her, intending to drag her to shelter, but forced himself to stop and step back into the doorway. She would fight him like a wildcat if he went after her now. He watched her until she turned the corner two blocks down, and disappeared from sight. She was almost running by then… escaping. From him.
For now.
Nine