Night Moves (6 page)

I never said that." They were all looking at her; she sensed it. "Really-- please, I was being horrible, and I didn't mean what I said. I was just angry and frustrated, so I was searching for anything to say to bemean

. Do you understand?"

"Of course," Brian said. "Daddy always said not to say anything at all if you couldn't say something nice.

Is that it?"

"Sort of," Bryn murmured uneasily. "But it's a little deeper than that. You don't need to...to..." She paused, wishing she had thought before she had spoken. "You don't ever need to attack someone for what he is just because he's made you angry-"

"I see," Brian agreed sagely, nodding. "You shouldn't have said that a man was a stupid red-skinned tom-tom player because you were mad."

"Right," Bryn said.

"What's a red-skinned tom-tom player?" Keith asked.

"The American Indians were called 'redskins' by the early settlers," Brian educated him. "Don't you ever watch 'RinTin Tin' on TV?" he asked with impatience.

Bryn wanted to crawl under her seat. What would Jeff-- with his absolute impatience for intolerance of any kind--think of her, or the way she was raising his children now?

"Brian!" she said sharply, ashamed of herself, yet hoping to make a point. "You're watching too much television. Keith--"

"Is it wrong to be an Indian tom-tom player?" Keith interrupted innocently.

"No!" Bryn gasped out. "Oh, please! Let's forget this. Stick with the 'if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all.' I was wrong, very wrong, and I didn't mean what I said." Quickly she continued.

"I...uh...Fm working on a videotape--''

"Oh, wow!" Keith said. "You mean like on MTV?"

"Yeah, like onMT--"

"Wow!" Brian leaned up as far as he could.

"For who, Aunt Bryn?"

"Lee Condor."

"Wow!" Even Adam echoed their excitement.

Brian turned to Keith. "Mrs. Lowe told us to watch his last video if we wanted to see the Middle Ages recreated perfectly!"

"Perfectly," Adam imitated his older brother. "Perfect," Bryn muttered. "Everything's just perfect!" It was almostseven o'clockbefore she made it home, and almost nine before she had the kids fed, bathed and in bed.

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Then she had to spend another hour in the darkroom. She had done a wildlife layout for a Tahoe tour folder, and only after having chosen five shots from the proofs had they decided on a different set of animals. But the folder could lead to more work in the future, so she didn't want to take a chance on quibbling with the nervous exec from the ad company.

At least, when she finally got to bed, she wasn't haunted by dreams, or by visions of strange dark and golden eyes. She fell into an exhausted slumber the minute her head touched her pillow.

Wednesday was, if possible, worse than Tuesday. She arrived at9:00 a.m., as Tony Asp had asked her to before she left the night before.

She thought that the place was empty when she first walked in, and it felt strange to be there. It was almost as if she had stepped back in time. The huge chandelier glowed in the ballroom, illuminating the striking marble floor and the beautifully carved strips of wall trim that contrasted with the lightly patterned wallpaper. The staircase rose into misty darkness, and for a minute she felt as if she had actually stepped back to intrude upon another lifetime.

A sudden blast of music almost sent her rocketing up to the ceiling; her heart slowed its wild pounding as she realized a tape had been turned on.A tape of Lee Condor and his group doing "Lorena."

It began with a drum beat that had a rock sound about it, but more than that, it projected the image of men marching off to war. A fiddle joined in.Then, softly, the sound of a keyboard.

And then Condor's voice.

It was a unique sound. His voice was a tenor, but a husky one, and it seemed as if it could reach inside the soul with its slightly raspy edge.

Bryn's nerves felt more on edge than ever. She felt as if his voice, like his eyes, could discover her secrets. As if it were an instrument that could strip one bare, expose the heart and the mind and leave them naked and vulnerable.

The song was beautiful. When other voices joined his in perfect harmony for the refrain, she felt an absurd rush of tears sting her eyes. You could feel it all, the love found, the love lost, the wisdom and sadness of resignation.

"Bryn, you're here. Great!"

Tony Asp was coming down the stairway, a tape recorder in his hand.

"Can't you just imagine when it's all done?" he asked jovially. "It's going to be wonderful.Just wonderful."

Bryn dredged up a weak smile. "I'm sure it will be."

"Set your bag down, honey, and take a minute to warm up. I'll be ready at the foot of the stairs."

Bryn obediently did as she wastold, wryly thinking she didn't need much of a warm-up. They had

"warmed her up" so much yesterday that she should be stretched and limber for years to come.

Still, she knew the importance of keeping her muscles and tendons from being strained, so she set into a
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quick routine of exercises. Plies and stretches and, on the floor, more stretches. She rose, absently dusted her hands on her tights and walked the few feet to the stairway.

"All set, Tony," she told the dance director.

"Good. We're going to start back at the beginning, nice and slow," he told her with a smile. "You'll start working with Lee today instead of me."

"Lee?" She couldn't prevent dismay from sounding in her voice.

"Yes, Miss Keller. Me."

She hadn't seen him; she hadn't had the slightest idea that he was anywhere about.

But he was.Walking down the stairway. And his movements were so quiet that it made perfect sense that she hadn't heard him, but still she felt like screaming at him.

It was obvious that he had been there all along.Watching her. Not covertly, openly. She just hadn't known....Hadn't sensed his presence. And now it was suddenly overwhelming. She stared at him blankly as he continued down to meet her. He was in a short-sleeved knitIzod , kelly-green. The color seemed to bring out the glitter of gold in his eyes. His arms were bare, and his biceps bespoke wiry, muscled strength. The shirt hugged his torso, the trim, flat expanse of his waist, the triangular breadth of his chest and shoulders. Barbara had been right again: he appeared slim at a distance, but the closer he came, the more you became aware of the power of his frame. She was still looking up when he reached the bottom step. He stood a full head taller than she. And when he was there, right there before her, she sensed him again, as well as saw him. His after-shave was very light, and it made her think of cool, misty woods. It was pleasant, seductive....

And as frightening as that hot, leashed sense of energy about him.

"Good morning, Miss Keller."

The sound of his voicerazored through her blood stream.Chills, then fever, assailed her again.

"Good morning."

"Tony has been through this with me already, so we might as well give it a quick spin and see where the problems will be. I like the idea of the five steps--if you can handle the distance. I assure you, I'll catch you when you fall."

"Fine," Bryn said crisply.

"Tony?"

"I'm ready. Walk it through from the foot of the stairs. Then we'll try it with the music."

It had been so easy the day before. Today, as soon as Lee put his hands on her upper arms, she wanted to wrench away from him and run. She glanced uneasily at the fingers that locked over her gently. They were bronze from the sun, long, the nails blunt and clean. A spattering of jet hair feathered the backs of his hands. She found herself thinking that they were definitely a man's hands....

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"When you're ready, Miss Keller."

She stared into his eyes. She saw the gold again, a deep burning fire, plunging into her soul. He was amused by her. She saw it as his lips twisted slightly into a sardonic smile.

The spin!she reminded herself. She could wrench away from him....

She spun into a pirouette, paused, turning right, and then left,then flew up the stairs. One, two, three, four, five...

She felt his hand on her arm, gripping her, stopping her, spinning her around again. She executed the kick without thinking,then prayed that he would be there to catch her....

He was. His right arm locked around her waist as she fell against the rock hardness of his torso; his left arm slipped beneath her, bending her knees, and she was floating as he began to carry her up the stairs.

Floating... and staring into his eyes again. Feeling their heat...and that of his powerful arms about her...

"Great!" Tony approved from the foot of the stairs."Rough, but great. Bryn, the kick was a little slow.

Lee, look angrier, less tense. You're not going to drop her. Now let's try it with the music."

The first try might have been "great," but the second was a disaster. Bryn tripped on the second step.

And, to her horror, she repeated the fumble once, and then again.

It was Condor, she thought with defensive and heated anger. It wasall his fault for that half smile of vast amusement he gave her each time he saw the resentment in her eyes....

"Miss Keller, just what is the problem?" he inquired politely, but she could still see the laughter. "Have you had coffee yet? Tony, how could you let this young lady go to work without coffee?"

She wanted to protest; she wanted to tell him that all she wanted was to get the rehearsal over. But before she could say anything, she found herself being ushered into a drawing room opposite the ballroom and staircase.

And she was completely alone with him.

Bryn stood silently as he poured a cup of coffee from a drip brewer.

"Sugar?"

"Black, please."

He handed her the cup and poured one for himself. He sipped from it, staring at her so pointedly that she wished she could disappear into the floorboards.

"Have I ever met you before, Miss Keller?"

"No."

"I was quite sure I hadn't. I can't imagine forgetting you. But if we've never met, I certainly can't see how I might have offended you in any way. Why do you dislike me?" "I...I don't," Bryn protested. "But you do. Why?"

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Inadvertently she moistened her lips. It would be futile to lie. He wasn't asking her if she disliked him, he was asking her why she did. And in the secluded drawing room, he suddenly seemed ridiculously dangerous to her.Taut, trim and powerful.Able to move soundlessly with the grace of a great cat. She surreptitiously scanned his hard features. The jet hair, short and feathered in front, longer in back, dead straight. She imagined him with a bandanna across his forehead again.His shirt off, a loincloth in place of jeans. Moving stealthily through the dark, attacking with a bloodcurdling war cry keening from his full lips...

He wouldn't need the costume. In jeans and knit shirt, the fluid agility of his body was still evident. His dry, mocking smiles added to her certainty that he was more than healthy-he was exceptionally virile, a sexual and sensual man.Dangerous? Yes, very. He was being cordial now, testing her.Perhaps giving her a chance. But she knew as he stared at her with that look that was as hard as flint that things were done his way. He wouldn't tolerate dissension in the ranks of his employees. She would dance to his tune--or not at all.

Anger made an abrupt appearance, welling up from deep inside her. He wanted things on the line. Well, so didshe .

"To be quite truthful, Mr. Condor, I don't quite know why I dislike you myself. But I won't let it interfere with my work--here, or when we do your promo shots."

He laughed, easily, and his features didn't seemso hard as a grin, which displayed a nice set of even white teeth, softened them.

"Fine, Miss Keller, I'll trust in your professionalism.Just as I'll trust my own."

"What does that mean?" Bryn queried quickly.

"It means, MissKeller, that I may know you better than you know yourself. I believe you think that I mentally undress you each time I look at you."

"Perhaps," Bryn replied coolly, hoping that her cheeks weren't turning a telltale crimson.

"Ummm.And perhaps you're worried that I chose you from a crowd because I'd like to see more of you. Or drag you into bed."

"I don't presume--"

He chuckled softly again, and she heard the sound like a hot whisper that swept through the blood, caressing her heart.

"Miss Keller, presume all you like. I chose you for Lorena because you're talented, and you fit my image of the woman perfectly. As to the other...I'm afraid you're right. I would like to see more of you--and I would definitely like to seduce you into bed. But don'tworry, I won't let it interfere with work. Here, or when we do the promo shots."

She should have slapped him. She should have done something. But she was too stunned. She just stared at him as he set his cup on the fold-up table and sauntered out of the room.Silently.

With a panther-light tread that was dangerously deceptive, totally contrary to all that the man was
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proving himself to be.

He was professional, and competent--but he was there.

And no matter how she fought the ridiculousness of it, he frightened the hell out of her.

Bryn knew soon after she sat down at the large booth that the Chinese restaurant had been a mistake.

Noodles were sliding across the slick veneer tabletop in seconds as the hungry kids grabbed at them; a water glass was tipped over almost immediately, and Adam slid off the plastic seat cover, bumped his head and broke into tears.

Why couldn't I have picked McDonald's, she asked herself as she alternately soothed Adam and tried to sound like the wrath of God to Brian and Keith in a quiet tone so that they would settle down.