Gentle Pirate (6 page)

"Well, maybe the police will have some ideas," Simon said thoughtfully, leaning back to rest his left arm along the back of the couch. The action made Kirsten nervous. Another short move would have that arm around her and then what would she do?

With an abrupt little jump, she got to her feet and was trying to think of a polite explanation for her behavior when someone knocked at the door.

"That will be the cops," Simon announced, getting casually to his feet and starting toward the door. "I'll get it."

"Don't start making yourself too much at home," Kirsten muttered between clenched teeth, but she couldn't tell if he had heard her.

The police were everything one hopes police will be when one needs them: sympathetic, efficient, professional. But Kirsten could tell when they left an hour later that they were as much at a loss for an explanation as she was. Simon stood beside her in the doorway and watched the patrol car pull out of the parking lot at around two-thirty. Kirsten sighed as the taillights disappeared.

"I have the feeling this is going to remain one of those unexplained acts of vandalism you read about occasionally in the newspapers," she groaned, making no move to go back inside the apartment. Hopefully, Kendrick would take his cue and leave now. He seemed larger than ever standing next to her.

"Maybe," he shrugged. "The cops were probably right. If you really can't come up with the names of any suspicious characters, I guess we'll have to let it ride for now." He moved to go back inside.

Kirsten panicked.

"Well, thanks for the help in dealing with the police," she began nervously, remaining where she was in the doorway. "It's getting rather late. I'll take care of this mess in the morning…"

"Good idea," he agreed. "I'm ready to hit the sack, myself." But he didn't head for his car, he continued on into the living room and began fluffing the couch cushions.

"Close the door, Kirsten. it's getting cold in here," he advised, standing back to eye his handiwork.

"I'll close it as soon as you're gone," she told him pointedly, beginning to shiver from the cold. He was right. It was freezing outside. She folded her arms protectively around herself and waited.

"I thought I'd spend the night," he remarked, as if he did it regularly. "This disaster is bound to make you uneasy. You'll feel better knowing I'm out here in the living room. This couch is a little short, though, isn't it?"

"No!"

"Well, maybe not for someone your size, but for me it's going to be small." he responded decidedly, nodding his dark head thoughfully. So far he hadn't looked at her, giving his full attention to the matter of his bedding.

"Simon Kendrick, you are not spending the night here! I want you to leave-at once! Do you hear me? Simon, pay attention to me! I'll call the manager and have you thrown out if you don't do as I say!" Kirsten was furious and no longer making any effort to be polite. She wanted this big man out of her apartment and out of her life! It was getting colder and colder with only the protection of the light yellow dress, but nothing could have induced her to step inside and close the door.

Nothing, that is except a huge man who was capable of lifting her bodily out of the doorway and well into the hall. Which is exactly what Simon Kendrick did before she could blink an eve. It wasn't fair that a man his size could move so quickly. And it was even more galling that he managed the whole operation with only one hand. She felt completely helpless as that right arm closed around her waist, hoisted her unceremoniously into the air, and then set her down as if she were a bag of groceries. By the time she caught her breath the door had been firmly closed and Simon was standing between it and Kirsten, eyes glittering with laughter and something else. Something that really awakened the fear within her. With all the dignity she could muster, Kirsten refused to let it show.

"Relax, honey. I'm not going to hurt you," he soothed.

Kirsten absorbed the rocklike stance he had adopted in front of her and closed her hands into small fists.

"Simon, this is my place," she whispered as coolly as possible. "I want you to leave. You have no right acting like this!" Then the coolness seeped out of her tone to be replaced by a touch of demanding defiance. "Isn't there any trace of the gentleman in you?"

"Why do you bother to ask? You've already decided there isn't, haven't you?" He smiled coldly, the warmth fading from those eyes, but not the intention. The little twist of fear inside Kirsten grew. Simon came forward slowly, forcing her to back into the living room. Beyond him the door was so inviting… She began weighing her chances.

"Don't bother, Kirsten." he told her off-handedly. "I'll catch you before you take three steps."

She surrendered the possibility of that escape route and, turning, stalked farther into the room. With a certain grim calculation, she mentally ticked off the various appeals left to try.

"This is still a small town in many ways, Simon, even if it has been growing so rapidly lately. I know my neighbors and there will be gossip if you stay here. You can count on it reaching Silco, too!" She went to stand in front of the fish tank. Thank God the vandals hadn't used a hammer on it, she thought feelingly. It was calming to watch Jeremiah the Algae Eater going about his business of keeping the tank sides clean.

Simon came to stand behind her, not touching. "We needn't concern ourselves with gossip, honey. Your friends will understand that I couldn't leave you alone after what's happened."

"And how am I supposed to explain the fact that you appeared on my doorstep at one o'clock in the morning when everyone knows I had a date with Ben?" Kirsten hissed angrily, still watching the graceful motions of the fish. "For that matter, what the hell were you doing there-here-at that hour?" She hugged her arms around herself again and flinched as his hand touched her hair lightly, almost appealingly. Automatically, Kirsten corrected herself. Simon Kendrick would never plead for anything. Much less a woman's attention. The impressions she'd had briefly when she'd opened the door earlier and again just now when he stroked her hair were false ones. He probably cultivated that particular approach to put unsuspecting women off their guard!

"I told you, I came to return your earring," Simon said softly, fingers entwining themselves more deeply in her hair.

"I don't believe you. It could have been returned on Monday at work."

"I also wanted to talk to you…"

"You could have called in the morning. Simon, stop lying to me! Do you think I'm a fool? What is it about me that makes men think they can treat me…" Kirsten broke off and whirled to face her tormentor, jerking her hair loose from his fingers. "Why are you here, Simon Kendrick?" She wished mightily she didn't have to look up so far in order to meet his eyes.

"I'm here for all the reasons I told you. Kirsten." he began, eyes stern and a fine degree of roughness in the deep tones of his voice. "I'd never, ever lie to you. But I do admit there was another reason."

"I can't believe you're so desperate for a woman that you would set out to annoy an employee!" she blazed, trying desperately to forestall any protestations of desire from him.

"I'm not desperate for just any woman," he growled, wrapping his huge hand around the back of her neck and holding her absolutely immobile while his eyes bored into hers. "I want you," he added very distinctly. "And the main reason I was waiting when you got home tonight was to see if I was going to have to pull that puppy Williamson out of your bed!"

Kirsten gasped, a combination of fury and astonishment driving out the fear momentarily.

"You're out of your mind! You hardly know me, and my relationship with Ben Williamson is none of your business!"

"It became my business today when you walked into my office acting as if you could care less what I did with your job," he grinned, the tiny lines at the corners of his eyes crinkling. "I intended to call you in the morning, but when you appeared at dinner I decided not to let such a heaven-sent opportunity pass!"

"And so you parked yourself outside my door and waited until I got home from a date with another man so that I could fall immediately into your arms?" Kirsten breathed scathingly, trying to dislodge his grip on her neck. "If you aren't careful, you're going to throttle me!"

"Never!" he said with great certainty. "I've told you I'd never hurt you. And I didn't exactly expect you to fall into my arms tonight, either. I planned to talk to you. That's all!" Then he added, deadpan, "Of course, if my talking had convinced you to throw yourself at me, so much the better!"

"You're impossible! Nobody makes up his mind about another person that fast!"

"I do."

"Really? And how often during the past, let's say, year or so, have you made up your mind that you wanted a particular woman?" she mocked, feeling desperate.

"If you're asking if I've lived a celibate life waiting for you, the answer is no," he admitted cheerfully. "But there's a difference between enjoying oneself and really wanting someone!"

Where have I heard that before, Kirsten thought bitterly. "Isn't there just, though? And you know the difference?"

"I discovered it today," he stated with satisfaction, finally removing his restraining hand. Kirsten breathed an unconscious sigh of relief and noted that the hook was still tucked politely out of sight in a jacket pocket. "I think it's time we went to bed, don't you?" he added conversationally. "Where are the extra blankets? Hall closet?" He was already striding toward the hall that led to the bedroom, leaving Kirsten standing, frozen, in front of the aquarium. My God! What was she going to do?

She watched disbelievingly as he helped himself to blankets, filched an extra pillow from her bed, and came back into the living room. He set about making the couch into a bed with suspicious dexterity. A skill he'd learned in the military? Kirsten shuddered. She watched with a sort of mesmerized helplessness as he finished the job and turned back to face her, right hand already at the knot of his tie.

"Going to stay and watch?" Simon inquired humorously, knowing full well he could face her down.

Kirsten seethed with righteous anger, knowing she was in a classic no-win situation. She couldn't possibly remove him herself, and if she called the police to do the job, there was no telling how bad a scene Simon might create. Unless he actually made a serious move to threaten her physically, she didn't think she could bring herself to scream. And she sensed he knew it.

"Someday," she vowed with an intensity of feeling she hadn't known she possessed, "you're going to regret this!" She swung away, toward the bedroom.

"I'll use the bathroom first," he called after her. "Then you can take your time."

Kirsten's response was to slam her bedroom door. Feeling a little safer now, she reached out and locked it. The task reassured her considerably. As long as she stayed here she would be safe, she decided, and eyed the window by the bed as a possible escape route. Immediately she regretted having left the keys to the car in her purse, which was decidedly out of reach unless she wanted to risk another trip to the living room. The car had been her means of escape before and she'd use it again if she had to, but, damn it! She was getting tired of running away from powerful, domineering men! She had her rights! And she was going to have to start sticking up for them! Tensely, she began to pace the carpet beside the bed.

"So," she muttered to herself, "how are you going to get rid of that man out there?" Small rustling sounds came from the bathroom and Kirsten gritted her teeth, wondering if he carried spare toothbrushes in his pocket for these sorts of occasions. How often did he encounter women he "desperately" wanted, anyway? Her temper rose to the boiling point and the necessity for some physical action drove her over to the window.

Peering between the curtains, she studied what could be seen of the parking lot. Her own tiny compact wasn't visible from here but there was an unfamiliar Mercedes in one of the slots. Simon's? A big car for a big man, she reflected bitterly.

A casual knock on her bedroom door drew her startled attention. Was he going to force his way in here? The door didn't look as sturdy as it had a few minutes ago. Well, she'd use the window if he tried anything, Kirsten decided grimly.

"What do you want?" she called, trying to control the trembling of her voice.

"Just wanted to let you know the bathroom's free," he called back easily. "Good night, Kirsten. See you in the morning!" His footsteps retreated in the direction of the living room and Kirsten sank down on the bed with relief, noting absently that he'd done a bit of straightening in this room earlier when he had used the phone. The sheets and blankets were back on the bed, at least. The contents of the closet shelf still lay scattered about on the carpet, though.

It was late and Kirsten realized she was exhausted. This was her bedroom and her apartment. She was not going to let herself be chased away. And if she heard so much as a squeak near her door during the night, she would scream until a neighbor called the management!

But it would have taken considerably more than a squeak to awaken her that night. Kirsten wasn't aware of anything after her tousled head hit the pillow until pale, early spring sunlight filtered through the curtain the next morning. Accompanied by the wonderfully beckoning smell of freshly brewed coffee.

It was the coffee aroma that brought Kirsten out of her dreams and back to reality. Suddenly wide awake, she flung back the covers and padded to the closet, hunting for a robe. She took her time getting ready, trying to work up nerve to face her houseguest. Grateful not to encounter him in the hall, she scurried to the bathroom and back and then slipped into jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and a casual pair of shoes. Then, unable to decide what to do with her long hair, she settled for the usual weekend style and braided it, securing the ends with rubber bands saved from evening newspapers. Finished, she opened her door and went bravely down the hall toward the unfamiliar sound of someone making himself very much at home in her own kitchen.