Lady Moonlight (11 page)

"You mean Dane's gone? No warning or anything? Just disappeared?" Judy asked in amazement.

"Not quite." Kara curled up comfortably in the large wicker chair across the desk from her partner.

"He called yesterday. Said there was some trouble on a construction site somewhere and he had to go straighten it out. Can't you just picture it?" she asked dreamily. "He'll be down there snapping out orders to someone other than me, peering over someone else's shoulder for a change, finding fault with ... what?"

"I said," Judy repeated patiently, "where is 'down there'?"

Kara waved her hand in a vaguely southern direction. "Brazil."

'"Good grief!"

"Or maybe it was Bolivia. I'm not sure."

"Well, they are right next to each other," Judy

Scratching the quetzal off her mental list of things to be done, Kara returned to the drawing board and was soon immersed in a wrought-iron gate, subtly entwining the family initials into the scrollwork. Her rumbling stomach eventually broke her concentration. Mildly surprised to find that it was four-thirty and that she had skipped lunch, she added one final touch, put her supplies away and went home.

The telephone began ringing as she pulled out her key. Muttering darkly as she fought with the two locks, she flung open the door and raced for the telephone.

"Hi, Aunt Tillie," she gasped.

"Hello, Kara, dear. You didn't have to hurry. I knew you were on the way."

"It's that second lock. I'm still not used to---oh, my God!"

"What's the matter?"

"I knew it was you," Kara gasped in astonishment.

"Of course you did," Tillie agreed.

"You don't understand. I knew it was you. " Kara's dark eyes were wide with wonder.

"Is this the first time it's happened?" her aunt asked after a moment.

"First? You mean it'll happen again?" Kara demanded in a weak voice.

"It's another step, Kara." Tillie's voice was warm with understanding.

"Well, I don't like it. I want it to stop right now! It's getting altogether too spooky!"

Her aunt sighed philosophically. "It's lonely, too. But you've already learned that. And there aren't too many people you can share it with. But you learn to cope. And, if you're flexible, you manage to help people by keeping one jump ahead of things."

Kara's voice grew quiet. "Is that why you're calling, Aunt Tillie?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you keeping ahead of things? Are you warning me about something?"

Tillie's voice was once again light. "Walter does all the warning these days. Such a busy man."

Kara waited patiently for her aunt to come to the point.

"He did want me to mention something to you."

Kara remained silent, waiting.

"But he's getting quite cryptic," Tillie complained. "It's most annoying."

"What did he say, Aunt Tillie?"

"To follow your feelings."

"Follow my what?"

"Feelings, feelings!"

"Sounds like something out of a musical," Kara grumbled. "Just what am I supposed to do with that profound bit of advice?"

"Think about it," her aunt suggested. "By the way, say hello to Dane for me."

"He's out of town," Kara said absently, brooding over her aunt's words.

"I know, but he'll be calling. Give him my love."

Kara gingerly replaced the receiver and backed away from it as if it were a strange dog baring its teeth. "I don't want to take another step," she informed it firmly. "Picking a winner at the races is one thing; looking into the future is altogether different. I don't want ..."

She yelped in surprise as the telephone rang again.

Lunging forward, she lifted the receiver and tentatively held it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Kara? Is anything wrong? You sound odd." Her partner's concerned voice was soft in her ear.

"Judy? Thank God!"

"Something ls wrong. What is it?"

"Nothing now. Because I didn't know it was you."

"And it would have been bad if you had known?"

"Awful! But now I know that Aunt Tillie was just a coincidence, not another step."

"Well, of course," Judy said, her voice quivering with amusement. "How obvious. Kara, why is having a conversation with you always like running a circular obstacle course? There are lots of hurdles, but no beginning or end."

"Well, I know what I'm talking about," Kara said reasonably. "That's really all that matters."

"I'm not going to get involved in one of your convoluted discussions right now," Judy said firmly. "I called to see if we're still meeting for dinner."

"Of course. Why wouldn't we be?"

"No reason at all. But the last time we tried this, you forgot and stood me up."

"You're right," Kara admitted. "But nothing, neither rain nor shine nor sleet nor hail will make me late tonight. I'll be there at seven on the dot."

Spurred on by her promise, she dropped the receiver and headed for her bedroom. After spreading a white sleeveless dress on her bed she moved into the bathroom and turned both faucets on. Glancing at her watch, she decided that she had time for one of those much discussed long baths. She poured in some floral-scented crystals and watched as the water first frothed creamily, then blossomed into large, sparkling bubbles.

Kara trotted into the kitchen and poured herself a large glass of iced tea. Walking back through the living room, she collected an art magazine she'd bought earlier that day. She deposited those two items on the edge of the tub, then returned to the bedroom, picked up the cordless telephone and set it beside the tub. Within seconds she had shed her clothes.

"Ahhhh." She eased back and cocooned herself in fragrant water up to her neck. Baths were absolutely, delightfully, decadently sinful, she decided. With a bit of concentrated effort, she just might be able to direct all her affairs from the tub. Just think! A tray spanning the top could hold food to stave off hunger pangs; a telephone could be her connection to the outside world; and a good book at hand would aid her escape from that same world when it became too hectic.

She closed her eyes and contemplated her water-logged future with a drowsy smile. It probably had some drawbacks. She'd have to ask Dane, she thought with a yawn. He'd undoubtedly come up with a solid dozen or so without even blinking an eye.

The shrill ringing of the telephone roused her.

Groping over the side of the tub with a damp hand, she noted sleepily that most of the water had trickled down the drain.

"Hello," she said huskily.

"Kara?" There was no mistaking the deep voice.

He could have been in the next room.

"Dane? Where on earth are you?"

"Rio de Janeiro."

"What time is it?" she asked in a panic.

"A little after eleven."

"What?" She sat up abruptly. "Judy's going to murder me! I was supposed to meet her at seven!"

His chuckle was a soft, totally masculine sound.

"Relax. We're five hours ahead of you. You'll make it. "

"I still have to get dressed," she informed him.

"What are you wearing?"

She looked down at herself. "Bubbles," she said honestly.

"What? Just where the hell are you going?"

It didn't take a psychic to know where his mind was wandering, she thought with indignation. "I'm wearing bubbles now because I'm getting out of the bathtub. In a few minutes I'll have on a dress that would satisfy even your puritan outlook. Besides," she added belatedly, remembering that they had a few things to discuss, "it's none of your business what I wear."

"W€'re going to have a long talk about that when I get home," he said firmly.

"We certainly are!"

"But in the meantime," he said emphatically, "all you have to do is remember that it is my business. Everything about you is my business. What you wear, what you don't wear, what you do---everything!"

"Now hold on just a damn minute," she snapped.

"In case you haven't figured this out, I own myself. I belong to me and no one else!"

"Honey," he said with a grim certainty that took her breath away, "the first night we went to dinner the pink slip changed hands."

Kara was silent, wondering how the sound of this man's voice could make her dizzy with rage while, at the same time, warming her with an unfamiliar sense of security.

"Is there some real purpose to this call?" she finally asked with asperity.

Damned if I know, he thought in atypical confusion. I'm calling because I'm thousands of miles away and, for the first time in my life, homesick. Because I can't hold you in my arms and feel your body curve against mine as if it were made for that very purpose.

Because hearing the sound of your voice is as necessary as breathing.

He raked his hands through his shower-damp hair and listened to himself say, "I suppose not. I'm about to crawl into a very large,very empty bed." His words grew slow and emphatic. "I'm tired of large, empty beds. That's another thing we're going to talk about when I get back."

Closing his eyes in disgust, he wondered what it was about Kara that brought out a heretofore unknown streak of raw possessiveness in him. And that made him come across as a rampant male chauvinist every time he opened his mouth.

"I'm not responsible for the condition of your bed," she reminded him. "I'm sure you can remedy the situation any time you like."

He changed the subject abruptly. "How are your . . . uh . . . bubbles doing?" He pictured her petite form clad in nothing but froth and was aware of the dull ache of his own body.

Kara looked down with a clinical eye. "Popping," she said succinctly. She grinned at the sound of a smothered oath. Served him right for asking, she thought.

"Kara?" His voice was husky when it broke the long silence.

"Yes?"

". . . Nothing." The pause that followed puzzled her."Just...Kara."

He was definitely acting peculiar, she decided. He wasn't commanding or demanding. If she hadn't known better, she'd almost have said that he was uncertain.

"Promise me something?"

"If I can," she answered cautiously.

"Don't do anything harebrained. If you have to get into trouble, at least wait until I get back."

There! Now he was back to normal! "I don't plan on doing anything you'd disapprove of," she said sedately.

She heard an unconvinced grunt before he told her to enjoy her dinner with Judy and hung up.

Kara reached for a towel and patted her body until she was dry and bubble-free. What she had said was the truth, she told herself virtuously. He automatically took a dim view of most of her actions, but if he didn't know what she was up to, he couldn't disapprove. Right? Right!

But what was it about his voice that had her antennae quivering? Could he actually have sounded lonely? She shook her head as she stepped into panties and hooked her bra. lmpossible. Not Dane Logan. The white dress slid over her head, and she occupied herself with the buttons. The diversion didn't help.

She knew lonely when she heard it and, unfortunately for her, she believed she had just heard it. Kara did not kid herself. She knew only too well her propensity for bringing home strays. Her family had learned to react with aplomb when they rose in the morning and found temporarily displaced friends sleeping on the living-room sofa. They recognized the fact that Kara could no more walk away from an emotional appeal than she could an injured child. It was a highly inconvenient but inherent part of her character.

Kara grabbed her purse, tussled once again with the double locks and told herself bracingly, "It can't be that. He probably drank the wrong water and is coming down with Montezuma's revenge."

The thought bouyed her spirits so much that Judy eyed her with suspicion all through a lively dinner.