The Princess Bride (7 page)

“I came to see Harrison,” he said curtly.

She waved a hand toward the front door. “Help yourself. I was just seeing Mark off.”

He seemed suddenly very still. “Mark?”

“Mark Allenby. We work together. He came home with me for our holidays.” She gave him a cool glance. “You've probably seen him in commercials. He's incredibly handsome.”

He didn't say another word. He walked past her without speaking and went right into the house.

Tiffany followed a few minutes later, and found him with her father in the study.

Harrison glanced out the door as she passed it on her
way to the staircase. “Tiffany! Come in here a minute, would you, sweetheart?”

He never called her pet names unless he wanted something. She wandered into the room as if King's presence made no difference at all to her. “What do you want, Dad?” she asked with a smile.

“King needs some papers from the safe at my office, and I promised I'd drive Lettie down to Floresville to visit her sister. Would you…?”

She knew the combination by heart, something her father had entrusted her with only two years before. But she sensed a plot here and she hesitated. King noticed, and his face froze over.

“You don't have anything pressing, do you?” Harrison persisted. “Not with Mark away?”

“I suppose not.” She gave in. “I'll just get my jacket.”

“Thanks, sweetheart!”

She only shrugged. She didn't even glance at King.

 

It was a short drive to the downtown office her father shared with King. It seemed a little strange to her that King didn't have the combination to Harrison's safe, since they were partners. She'd never really wondered why until now.

“Doesn't he trust you?” she chided as they went into the dark office together.

“As much as he trusts anyone,” he replied. “But in case you wondered, he doesn't have the combination to
my safe, either. Our respective lawyers have both. It's a safeguard, of a sort.”

He turned on the lights and closed the door. The sprawling offices were vacant on this holiday and she was more aware than ever of being totally alone with him. It shouldn't have bothered her, knowing what she did about his relationship with Carla, but it did. It hadn't been long enough for her to forget the pleasure of his kisses, being in his arms.

She ignored her tingling nerves and went straight to the concealed safe, opening it deftly. “What do you want out of here?” she asked.

“A brown envelope marked
Internet Proposals.
”

She searched through the documents and found what he wanted. She closed the safe, replaced the painting that covered it, and handed the envelope to King.

“Is that all you needed me for?” she asked, turning toward the door.

“Not quite.”

She hesitated a few feet away from him. Her eyes asked the question for her.

He wasn't smiling. The friendly man of years past was missing. His eyes were wary and piercing. He didn't move at all. He just stared at her until she felt her heartbeat accelerate.

She lifted her chin. “Well?”

“Was it deliberate?”

She blinked. “Was what deliberate?”

“Leaving us off the guest list for the New Year's Eve party.”

She felt an uncomfortable tension in the air. She frowned. “You and Carla were invited,” she said. “I faxed the list of invitations straight to the printers. The two of you were the first two names on the list. In fact, they went straight to my father's secretary from the printer's, to be mailed. Carla knows Rita, Dad's secretary. I'm sure she knew that you were on the list.”

His eyes narrowed. “She said that she checked the list. Our names weren't there.”

“Someone's lying,” Tiffany said quietly.

He made a sound deep in his throat. “I don't need two guesses for a name.”

“You think I did it. Why?”

He shrugged. “Spite?” he asked with a mocking smile. “After all, I sent you packing, didn't I?”

Months of conditioning kept her face from giving away any of her inner feelings. She pushed a hand into her jacket pocket and lifted an eyebrow. “You did me a favor, as it happens,” she said. “You needn't worry, I'm no longer a threat to you. Mark and I are quite an item about town these days. We both work for the same agency. We see a lot of each other. And not only on the job.”

His narrow gaze went over her, looking for differences. “You've changed.”

Her shoulders rose and fell. “I've only grown up.” Her
smile never reached her eyes. “I have a bright future, they tell me. It seems that my body is photogenic.”

Something flashed in his eyes and he turned away before she could see it. “I thought you were going on a holiday, not to find a job.”

“I didn't have much choice,” she said, turning back to the door. “There was nothing for me here.”

His fist clenched at his side. He turned, about to speak, but she'd already opened the door and gone out into the hall.

He followed her, surprised to find her headed not for the exit, but for Rita's computer. She sat down behind the desk that her father's secretary used, turned on the computer, fed in a program, and searched the files for the invitation list. She found it and pulled it up on the screen. Sure enough, King's name wasn't on it. Neither was Carla's. But one of the agency models was a computer whiz and she'd been tutoring Tiffany on the side.

“I told you our names weren't there,” he said gruffly from behind her.

“Oh, don't give up yet. Wait just a sec…” She put up another program, one designed to retrieve lost files, and set it searching. A minute later, she pulled up the deleted file and threw it up on the screen. There, at the top of the list, were King's and Carla's names.

King scowled. “How did you do that? I didn't see your hands typing on the keyboard.”

“They didn't. This file was deliberately erased and replaced. I'm sure if I look for the fax, I'll discover that
it's been redone as well.” She saved the file, cut off the computer, and got to her feet. She met his eyes coldly. “Tell Carla nice try. But next time, she'd better practice a little more on her technique.”

She retrieved her purse and went out the door, leaving King to follow, deep in thought.

“Why do you think Carla tampered with the list?” he asked on the way home.

“She's a girl with aspirations. Not that I'm any threat to them,” she added firmly. “I have a life in New York that I'm learning to love, and a man to shower affection on. You might tell her that, before she dreams up any new ideas to put me in a bad light.”

He didn't answer her. But his hands tightened on the steering wheel.

 

She was out of the car before he could unfasten his seat belt.

The house was empty, she knew, because Harrison was supposed to be out, and she was certain that Mark was still at Lisa's house. She didn't want King inside.

She paused on the lowest step. “I'll tell Dad you got the information you needed,” she said firmly.

His narrow eyes went from her to the front of the house. “Is he in there waiting for you?” he asked coldly.

“If he is, it's nothing to do with you,” she said solemnly. “As you said on that most memorable occasion, I wanted to play house and you didn't. For the record,”
she added with cold eyes, “I no longer want to play with you, in any manner whatsoever. Goodbye.”

She went to the door, unlocked it, let herself in, and threw the bolt home after her. If he heard it, so much the better. She didn't want him within three feet of her, ever again!

T
iffany went upstairs, almost shaking with fury at Carla's treacherous action, because certainly no one else could be blamed for the omission of those names on the guest list. Carla was playing to win and thought Tiffany was competition. It was funny, in a way, because King wanted no part of her. Why didn't Carla know that?

She went into her room and opened her closet. It was New Year's Day, and tomorrow she and Mark would have to fly back to New York and get ready to begin work again. It was going to be a hectic few weeks, with the spring showings in the near future, and Tiffany was almost certain that she'd be able to land a new contract. She was young and photogenic and her agent said that she had great potential. It wasn't as heady a prospect as
a life with King, but it would have to suffice. Loneliness was something she was just going to have to get used to, so she… “Packing already?”

The drawled question surprised her into gasping. She whirled, a hand at her throat, to find King lounging in the doorway.

“How did you get in?” she demanded.

“Kitty let me in the back door. She's cleaning the kitchen.” He closed the door firmly behind him and started toward Tiffany with a strange glitter in his pale blue eyes. “It isn't like you to run from a fight. You never used to.”

“Maybe I'm tired of fighting,” she said through a tight throat.

“Maybe I am, too,” he replied curtly.

He backed her against the bed and suddenly gave her a gentle push. She went down onto the mattress and his lean, hard body followed her. He braced himself on his forearms beside her head and stared into her eyes at a breathless proximity.

“I'm expecting Mark…” She choked.

“Really? Kitty says he's at Lisa McKinley's house, and very smitten, too, from the look of them at the party last night.” His hand smoothed away the lapels of her jacket. His big hand skimmed softly over her breast and his thumb lingered there long enough to make the tip go hard. He smiled when he felt it. “Some things, at least, never change.”

“I don't know what you…oh!”

She arched completely off the bed when his mouth suddenly covered her breast. Even through two layers of cloth, it made her shiver with pleasure. Her hands clenched at her ears and her eyes closed as she gave in without even a struggle.

His hands slid under her clothing to the two fastenings at her back. He loosened them and his hands found the softness of her breasts. “Good God, it's like running my hands over silk,” he whispered as his head lifted. “You feel like sweet heaven.”

As he spoke, his hands moved. He watched her pupils dilate, her lips part on whispery little sighs that grew sharp when his thumbs brushed her hard nipples.

“The hell with it,” he murmured roughly. He sat up, drawing her with him, and proceeded to undress her.

“King…you can't…!”

“I want to suckle you,” he said quietly, staring into her shocked eyes as he freed her body from the clothes.

The words fanned the flames that were already devouring her. She didn't speak again. She sat breathing like a track runner while he tossed her jacket and blouse and bra off the bed. Then his hands at her rib cage arched her delicately toward him. He bent and his mouth slowly fastened on her breast.

There was no past, no present. There was only the glory of King's hard mouth on her body. She sobbed breathlessly as the pleasure grew to unbelievable heights.

He had her across his knees, her head falling naturally into the crook of his arm, while he fed on her breasts. The nuzzling, suckling pressure was the sweetest sensation she'd ever known. It had been so long since he'd held her like this. She was alive again, breathing again.

“Easy, darling,” he whispered when she began to sob aloud. “Easy, now.”

“King…!” Her voice broke. She sounded as frantic as she felt, her heartbeat smothering her, the pressure of his hands all of heaven as he held her to his chest.

“Baby…” He eased her onto the bed and slid alongside her, his face solemn, his eyes dark with feeling. His mouth found hers, held it gently under his while his hands searched out the places where she ached and began to soothe them…only the soothing made the tension worse.

She moaned, tears of frustration stinging her eyes as his caresses only made the hunger more unbearable.

“All right,” he whispered, easing down against her. “It's too soon, Tiffany, but I'm going to give you what you want.”

He shifted her and his hand moved slowly against her body. She stiffened, but he didn't stop. He kissed her shocked eyelids closed and then smothered the words of protest she tried to voice.

She had no control over her body, none at all. It insisted, it demanded, it was wanton as it sought fulfillment. Her eyes remained tightly closed while she arched and arched, pleading, whispering to him, pride
shorn from her in the grip of a madness like none she'd ever experienced.

She opened her eyes all at once and went rigid as a flash of pleasure like hot lightning shot through her flesh. She looked at him in shock and awe and suddenly she was flying among the stars, falling, soaring, in a shuddering ecstasy that none of her reading had ever prepared her for.

Afterward, of course, she wept. She was embarrassed and shocked by this newest lesson in passion and its fulfillment. She hid her face against him, still shivering gently in the aftermath.

“I told you it was too soon,” he whispered quietly. He held her close, his face nuzzling her throat. “I took it too far. I only meant to kiss you.” His arms tightened. “Don't cry. There's no reason to be upset.”

“Nobody
…ever…
” She choked.

His thumb pressed against her swollen lips. “I know.” His mouth moved onto her wet eyelids and kissed the tears away slowly. “And that was only the beginning,” he whispered. “You can't imagine how it really feels.”

He carried her hand to his body and shivered as he moved it delicately against him. “I want you.”

She pressed her lips to his throat. “I know. I want you, too.”

His teeth nipped her earlobe gently and his breath caught. “Tiffany, your father is my business partner. There's no way we can sleep together without having
him find out. It would devastate him. He doesn't really belong to this century.”

“I know.” She grimaced slightly. “Neither do I, I suppose.”

He lifted his head and looked down at her soft hand resting so nervously against his body. He smiled gently even through the pleasure of her touch. His hand pressed hers closer as he looked into her eyes hungrily. “I'm starving,” he whispered.

She swallowed, gathering her nerve. “I could…?”

He sighed. “No. You couldn't.” He took her hand away and held it tightly in his. “In my way, I'm pretty old-fashioned, too.” He grimaced. “I suppose you'd better come into town with me tomorrow and pick out a ring.”

Her eyelids fluttered. “A what?”

“An engagement ring and a wedding band,” he continued.

“You don't want to marry. You said so.”

He looked down at himself ruefully and then back at her flushed face. “It's been several months,” he said pointedly. “I'm not a man to whom abstinence comes naturally, to put it modestly. I need a woman.”

“I thought you were having Carla,” she accused.

He sighed heavily. “Well, that's one of the little problems I've been dealing with since you left. She can't seem to arouse my…interest.”

Her eyes widened. This was news. “I understood that any woman can arouse a man.”

“Reading fiction again, are we?” he murmured dryly. “Well, books and instruction manuals notwithstanding, my body doesn't seem to be able to read. It only wants you. And it wants you violently.”

She was still tingling from her own pleasure. She grimaced.

“What?” he asked.

“I feel guilty. This was all just for me,” she faltered, still a little embarrassed.

“I'll run around the house three times and have a cold shower,” he murmured dryly. “No need to fret.”

She laid back on the bed, watching him sketch her nudity with quick, possessive eyes. “You can, if you want to,” she whispered with a wicked smile, never so sure of him as she was at the moment. “I'll let you.”

His high cheekbones actually flushed. “With Kitty in the kitchen and aware that I'm up here?” He smiled mockingly and glanced at his watch. “I'd say we have about two minutes to go.”

“Until what?”

“Until you have a phone call, or I have a phone call,” he remarked. “Which will have strangely been disconnected the minute we pick up the receiver.”

She giggled. “You're kidding.”

“I'm not.” He got up and rearranged his tie, staring down at her with pure anguish. “I want to bury myself in you!” he growled softly.

She flushed. “King!”

It didn't help that her eyes went immediately to that
part of him that would perform such a task and she went even redder. She threw herself off the bed and began to fumble to put her clothing back on.

He chuckled. “All that magnificent bravado, gone without a whimper. What a surprise you've got in store on our wedding night,” he murmured.

She finished buttoning her blouse and gave him a wry look. “You really are a rake.”

“And you'll be glad about that, too,” he added with a knowing look. “I promise you will.”

She moved close to him, her eyes wide and eloquent. “It won't hurt after what we've done, will it?”

He hesitated. “I don't know,” he said finally. “I'll be as careful and gentle as I can.”

“I know that.” She searched his eyes with a deep sadness that she couldn't seem to shake. “It's only because you want me that we're getting married, isn't it?”

He scowled. “Don't knock it. Sex is the foundation of any good marriage. You and I are highly compatible in that respect.”

She wanted to pursue the conversation, but there was a sudden knock at the door.

“Yes, what is it, Kitty?” Tiffany called, distracted.

“Uh, there's a phone call for Mr. Marshall, Miss Tiffany,” she called nervously.

“I'll take it downstairs, Kitty. Thanks!” he added with a roguish look in Tiffany's direction.

“You're welcome!” Kitty called brightly, and her footsteps died away.

“Your father puts her up to that,” he mused.

“He's sheltered me.”

“I know.”

She pursed her lips and eyed him mischievously. “I've been saved up for you.”

“I'll be worth the effort,” he promised, a dark, confident gleam in his eyes.

“Oh, I know that.” She went to open the door, pushing back her disheveled hair. “Are you coming to dinner tonight?”

“Is your male fashion plate going to be here?”

“I'm not sure. Lisa was very taken with him, and vice versa.”

He smiled. “I started up here bristling with jealousy. I could have danced a jig when Kitty stopped me to tell me about your houseguest and Lisa.”

“You were jealous?” she asked.

He lifted an eyebrow and his eyes slid over her like hands. “We both know that you've belonged to me since you've had breasts,” he said blatantly. “I kept my distance, almost for too long. But I came to my senses in time.”

“I hope you won't regret it.”

“So do I,” he said without thinking, and he looked disturbed.

“I'll try to make you glad,” she whispered in what she hoped was a coquettish tone.

He grinned. “See that you do.”

She opened the door and he followed her out into the hall.

 

Mark was more amused than anything when he discovered that his gal pal was engaged to her dream man. He and Lisa had found many things in common and a romance was blooming there, so he had only good wishes for Tiffany and her King. But there was something in the way King looked that made him uneasy. That man didn't have happily ever after in mind, and he wasn't passionately in love with Tiffany—and it showed. He wanted her; that was obvious to a blind man. But it seemed less than honest for a man to marry a woman only because of desire. Perhaps her father was the fly in the ointment. He couldn't see the dignified Mr. Blair allowing his only daughter to become the mistress of his business partner.

Of course! That had to be the reason for the sudden marriage plans. King had manipulated Tiffany so that she was done out of a fairy tale wedding, so that she was settling for a small, intimate ceremony instead. It was unkind and Mark wished he could help, but it seemed the only thing he could do for his friend was wish her the best and step aside. King didn't seem like a man who'd want a male friend in his virgin bride's life….

 

Life changed for Tiffany overnight. She went to one of the biggest jewelers in San Antonio with King, where
they looked at rings for half an hour before she chose a wide antique gold wedding band in yellow and white gold, with engraved roses.

King hesitated. “Don't you want a diamond?” he asked.

“No.” She wasn't sure why, but she didn't. She let the salesman try the ring on her finger. It was a perfect fit and she was enchanted with it.

King held her hand in his and looked down at it. The sentiment of the old-fashioned design made him strangely uneasy. It looked like an heirloom, something a wife would want to pass down to a child. His eyes met hers and he couldn't hide his misgivings. He'd more or less been forced into proposing by the situation, but he hadn't thought past the honeymoon. Here was proof that Tiffany had years, not months, of marriage in mind, while he only wanted to satisfy a raging hunger.

“Don't you like it?” she asked worriedly.

“It's exquisite,” he replied with a determined smile. “Yes, I like it.”

She sighed, relieved. “Don't you want to choose one?” she asked when he waved the salesman away.