watched her face, the way she bit her lip, pulling her hair back from his exploring fingers with an unconsciously graceful toss of her head.
"Please don't!" she said sharply. And then, in a lower voice, "Stop making fun of me. I should have known better than to come in here without permission. Only ..."
"Only?" He repeated the word, his eyes looking intently into hers.
"I saw the poster while I was walking down into town," she said as coldly as she could, wishing he would take his eyes from hers. "And the side door to the theater has never been locked, as long as I can remember. So I-it was a spur-of-the-moment thing. I thought Carol would be here and I wanted to see her again, that's all. I suppose I should have called-"
"Carol?" She had all his attention now, only she didn't quite like the way his eyes narrowed at her this time, reassessing her. Or the sarcastic note that crept into his voice.
"Yes, Carol!" Anne repeated boldly, daring him to talk down to her again. "I went to school with Carol, for a year. We were friends, even if we haven't kept in touch." Why was she explaining all this to him, under the intense scrutiny of his yellow-gold eyes?
She'd meant to put him in his place and make her discreet escape now that everyone else was watching the stage again. And yet, when Webb Carnahan suddenly picked up her hand, deliberately pulling off her glove in spite of her futile tugging, lacing his fingers with hers, she knew she couldn't have moved for all the warning signals going off in her mind. She was suddenly more aware of this man's presence beside her than she had ever been of anyone or anything before in her life.
"So you're an old school-chum of Caro's, are you? Well, well! From little Annie Oakley to grand duchess, proper New England accent and all! Sorry Care's not giving her all this afternoon. That's Tanya, her understudy, up there. Care's our queen bee, you know. She's probably sleeping or having her hair done right now, but she'll be here for the opening performance this evening. Maybe you should come back then, if you really want to talk about old times." His voice drawled at her-she couldn't be sure if he gave it a caustic tinge because he was speaking of Cam, or if he was just doing it to tease her. Why did he have to hold her hand? Anne felt confused-almost drugged by the strange pull of emotion inside her. Practical, rational self warring with another self she hadn't known existed until just now. Why had she taken off all her rings? A gesture of defiance; wanting to remove all symbols of ownership. But what did Webb Carnahan want with her? What kind of game was he playing?
"I really do have to go now," Anne said quickly, knowing she was just saying words, any words that would get her away from him and the warmth of his fingers through hers. "It was stupid of me to come here as I did without calling first. And since Carol's not here ..."
"Forget Caro. You can call her later. Stay awhile, Annie, long enough to get warm.
Your fingers are cold, and I bet your nose is, too." He touched it gently with his free hand and she almost flinched, resenting his familiarity and yet unable to fight the unaccustomed urging inside herself to stay, with him holding her hand. Startled at the turn of her thoughts, she wondered how it would feel to be kissed by him.
A word floated into her thoughts. Chemistry. Something she'd read about and scoffed at. Chemistry. Was that why she felt as if he'd invaded her and taken possession of her with the touch of his fingers? Chemistry. Was that why she responded to the coaxing timbre of his voice when he said, "stay awhile, Annie ..."?
He was a stranger, and a' man who was obviously used to getting his own way. She sensed danger in him, as well as a super-charged tension between them. It was there, an instinctive, primitive feeling that she couldn't trust him and, most of all, couldn't trust herself with him.
"Don't you have to go on again?" She tried to make her voice sound even. Sanity, that was what was needed!
He stretched long legs in front of him, taking his attention from her long enough to glance up at the stage before he looked back at her. "In about five minutes. You going to stay until we get through?"
"No! I have to get back home-I didn't tell anyone where I was going and they'll be worried. I-I'll call Carol when I get back. Is she staying at the hotel?"
"We all are. There's only one hotel in town, isn't there?" His voice was uninflected-she wondered in spite of herself what he was thinking.
Her name was Hyatt. Anne Hyatt-Webb was amused at the way she placed that slight emphasis on her first name, as if to show him she resented his calling her Annie. And she lived with her parents, probably-"they'll be worried ..." No rings. He found her reticence oddly intriguing. And even more intriguing was the fact that she had gone to school with Carol. Private school, which meant there had to be money in the background. Old, conservative money, probably. So what? He couldn't see Anne and Carol as buddies, somehow. More surprisingly, he couldn't place Anne. She didn't fit into any of the categories the other women he'd known had fallen into so easily.
Webb found himself curious, wanting to question her; but there was the damned rehearsal to be got through, and she was like a shy seabird poised for flight. He wasn't used to doing all the running or pursuing-only once in his life before, and that was something he didn't care to remember, not even now.
"You coming back to watch the show tonight, Annie?" He didn't understand why he persisted, keeping her fingers trapped in his.
"I-yes, I think so. Please-I do have to go now. And they're looking for you .. ,"
He didn't know, when he-deliberately brushed her cold lips with his, whether he meant the gesture for Tanya, standing glowering down at them from the stage, or whether it was a promise he was making to himself. "Okay, baby. Run back to your rabbit warren. But I'll see you tonight, huh?"
Afterwards, Anne couldn't remember exactly how she had made her way outside again. She welcomed the cold bite of the fresh breeze on her face as she knotted the scarf about her hair again. Ridiculous! She'd made a fool of herself, and she certainly wasn't going to see Webb Carnahan again. The hand he'd held still tingled as she thrust it deep into the pocket of her parka. He was so arrogant, so sure of himself!
Precisely the kind of man she ought to avoid.
CAROL'S VOICE SOUNDED SLEEPY at first, then slightly wary, finally, once she realized who was calling her, surprised and glad.
"Anne! But, sweetie, you don't have to apologize for calling me-I'd have been mad if you hadn't! I should have remembered that this dinky little town is where you used to live and called you up first. But the last I heard, you'd gotten married, and I'd pictured you with a brood of little ones hanging on your skirts by now! What on earth are you doing here? Isn't your husband one of those smart Washington lawyers who's heading for a State Department post? I saw his picture in Time, and I did think about writing or calling you then, but you know how I am-full of good intentions but too little time ... tell me all about yourself!"
"Well," Anne started cautiously, "there's really not that much to tell, you know ..."
Carol was still Carol, fonder of talking than of listening. Just as if Anne hadn't spoken she broke in, "Better still, baby, why don't you come on over and visit me? If you can stand the mess this room has gotten into, that is-but then, you know what an untidy bitch I always was, don't you? Listen, I don't have anything to do until the show opens tonight. I had this lousy headache, and Harris let me cry off from rehearsals.
He's a pet, by the way, and you must meet him! But I feel just fine now, and I'm dying to see you-you will come, won't you, Anne?"
Carol, the queen, summoning her subjects ... but it was impossible to resist the coaxing note in her voice, and Anne had to admit to herself that there was another reason for her calling Carol. Webb Carnahan. His golden eyes seemed to see right through her and her quickly thrown-up defenses, the brush of his lips, so casually bestowed on hers, sending sparks like electric shocks on her nerve endings.
"Country gal," his voice a deliberate caricature of a Southern drawl. And then-"Annie, huh? Annie Oakley ..." teasing her. How was it that he of alI the men she had met made her feel as if her bones had turned to water?
Carol was unchanged, except that she was even more beautiful, more flamboyant.
She played the Star to the hilt, and Anne could not help being impressed. Whatever Carol did seemed to be larger than life.
She was alone in her suite when Anne arrived, wearing a pale green negligee that revealed the magnificent body of which she was so justly proud. Her bedroom was a mess, a large, dog-eared copy of her play script tossed carelessly aside onto a desk that was cluttered with tissues and overflowing ashtrays.
Catching Anne's look, she laughed. "I warned you, didn't I? Anyhow it'll be all cleaned up by the time I get back from the theater tonight." She effortlessly mixed then poured out generous martinis without bothering to ask Anne if she preferred something else. "Sit down, pet. Oh shit-dump that stuff on the chair onto the floor, would you? And you can kick your shoes off; I can tell you stilI like to sit curled up in a chair with your feet under you." While she talked her eyes appraised-ran over Anne's body, her clothes, to return to her face. "You haven't changed much. Why haven't you cut your hair yet? You'd look great with a Sassoon cut, maybe just ear-level. And if you'd just use some makeup!" Carol sighed exaggeratedly before she added, "Darling, there's so much you could do with yourself! I mean, you have a really fabulous face-remember when I used to tell you you could be a model if you'd just make some effort .. ."
Carol really hadn't changed! Feeling more at ease, Anne merely wrinkled her nose.
"And remember when I used to tell you not to bother? Honestly, Carol, I'm quite happy the way I am. I just want to be-comfortable." To distract Carol, she went on quickly, "As a matter of fact, that's part of the reason I'm getting a divorce. Craig wanted a wife who could be on exhibition at all times, without a hair out of place. And I decided that I just wasn't cut out to be another Washington wife ..."
As Anne had guessed, Carol, who had always loved gossip, pounced on that.
"You're getting a divorce? Sweetie, you've got to tell me all about it! What was he really like? A bastard, I'll bet-aren't they all?"
After that, talking became easier. Carol questioned, and Anne explained; Carol listened with raised eyebrows, finally commenting, "Well! It's too bad you two were incompatible. I can't say that I blame you though; there's nothing worse than being bored!"
And then Anne fell into her old role of listener while Carol, pacing the floor dramatically, using her cigarette for emphasis, told about her life, so much more interesting than Anne's had been. Beginning with the scandal that had flared when her step-father had divorced her mother to marry Carol.
He hadn't lasted long. Lots of men, lots of publicity. A great part in a movie that had everyone calling Carol Cochran the latest sex symbol. And then she'd shown them by really acting, taking parts where her sexiness was played down. After that, the stage, and Carol was good, really good, or she wouldn't have made it even with her men and their money backing her.
"They said I'd never make it in the theater," Carol crowed. "Well, I did, didn't I? Did you see Masquerade? And then the jealous bastards started shrugging, 'Well, she made it in a musical, anyone can do that.' But with Bad Blood I mean to show them I can also make it as a straight dramatic actress. And after that I'll make movies again, good ones. That's what I really prefer anyway!"
"I saw your name on a poster and sneaked into the theater to watch a few scenes from Bad Blood this morning," Anne admitted. She grimaced. "I was almost thrown out, but I was rescued by the bad guy. Webb Carnahan?" She hoped the questioning tone of her voice would fool Carol. Had she introduced his name casually enough?
But she needn't have worried-
Carol's emerald eyes had begun to spark with anger. "Webb? That son of a bitch! I'm sure he and Tanya were having a blast! Which scenes did you watch?" Carol gave a strident, angry spurt of laughter. "Tanya's so bad it's unbelievable! I don't know why she was picked to be my understudy.
And it's really gone to her head since dear Webb decided to make her his latest target. Did you say he rescued you?"
"Well, he said it was okay for me to stay and watch. And he was really quite kind, except that he talked down to me, you know? I didn't like that."
"You didn't like that .. ." Carol was staring down at her,green eyes narrowed, and Anne wondered if she had been too casual. But then Carol laughed again, this time quite naturally.
"Oh Anne-you're priceless! But of course Webb wouldn't be your type, or you his. Oh-perfect! Here, let me get you a refill, sweetie .. ." Carol whirled about, came back stirring a drink with a skewered olive. "You could do something for me, and yourself too. I mean, it would tie in with everything you've been telling me, about wanting to find yourself and being yourself.
You will listen to me, won't you, Anne? Because I just had the most marvelous idea .
. ."
"No!" Having listened unbelievingly as Carol expounded her idea, Anne couldn't sit still a moment longer. This was wilder than any of Carol's outrageous schemes at school. "You're crazy-it wouldn't work, Carol. I'd be insane to go along with such an impossible plan!" Anne jumped to her feet. "You can't "be serious. What would be the point? You might win your bet, but everyone would be mad at you afterwards-and at me, if I was foolish enough to do it .. ."
"But, Anne, stop sounding so stuffy and just listen to me! No one need know. I'd have to tell Harris, but I can talk him into it. And as for Webb-well, after I've won my bet that I can make him blow his lines, he won't say a damn thing either! His pride wouldn't let him. Besides, don't you want to get even with him? Come on, Anne! If you'd just think about it, you'd realize it's a fantastic idea."
Anne shook her head helplessly, recognizing the stubborn, pleading note in Carol's voice as she continued to coax and cajole. "Carol, no! It just wouldn't work-it doesn't make sense!"