Authors: Ann Cristy
Jaime
looked up at her, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin. "Going back for
seconds, Cle?"
"Going
to be sick, I think." Cle gritted her teeth.
"What,
Cle?" Jaime raised his voice, making Dev turn toward him.
Cle
swung back, feeling that she was in some kind of awful silent movie. "I
just want to check the time and the preparations. We wouldn't want midnight to
creep up on us and not have the champagne ready." Cle quickly turned her
back, not wanting Jaime to see the sour look she was sure was twisting her face
at that moment.
"I'll
help you," Dev stated, rising to his feet and placing his napkin and plate
on his tray.
Cle
opened her mouth to tell him that she didn't need his help but the flicker deep
in those green eyes was menacing. Cle looked at both Max and Jaime, who were in
turn looking at Dev. She thought for a moment that Jaime was going to rise.
Dev
put his hand on the other man's shoulder. "Stay where you are. No sense
all of us running." His voice was bland, his eyes acid green. Jaime stayed
where he was.
Cle
whirled away, mumbling to herself as she headed for the kitchen. The caterers
were arranging the dessert trays with an inviting array of French pastries.
They informed her they would clear the main course soon and asked if they could
leave then since they were expected elsewhere shortly after midnight. They told
Cle they would pick up the rest of their things the next day if she would leave
them in the service hall.
"Yes,
of course I will. Can you tell me the amount of the bill for the extra food and
drink so I can have a check ready for you tomorrow as well."
"Oh,
that was taken care of by your husband, ma'am," the older man said. The
caterers took the trays to the other room.
Cle
rounded on Dev, lounging against the wall. "How did that man get the idea
you were my husband?" she spat at him. As he opened his mouth to answer
her, she forestalled him. "And don't think I'm going to let you pay for
the extras, because I'm not." She held out her hand, palm upward."
Give me the bill this instant."
"I'll
give it to you at the end of the evening," Dev drawled walking to the
counter area where trays filled with tulip shaped crystal glasses stood ready
to be filled with bubbly. He glanced at his watch. "It's eleven fifteen,
Cle. By the time every one has dessert it will be getting close to
twelve." He grimaced. "Not that anyone will feel like anything after
that meal. It was very good, darling."
Stung,
Cle glared at him. "And I suppose that the Carstairs would never serve
champagne to anyone on a full stomach."
Dev
straightened, a sculpted look to his features. "I wasn't being snide, Cle.
And for your information, champagne is served anytime..."
"I
know that." She wanted to shriek at him, but it came out a low snarl. She
was too afraid of the others hearing them.
"Then
why the hell did you make a remark like that?"
"Why
the hell did you make the remark you did?"
His
body thrust forward. "For a haepenny I'd... I'd—"
"You
touch me, Your Lordship," Cle ground out, temper flaming through her body.
Dev's
hand shot out like a missile, pulling her hard against him.
The
door leading to the service hall opened and one of the caterers came through.
He paused there, a curious look on his face.
"Don't
think this is the end of it," Dev hissed into her hair, then he released
her. Walking toward the man, he made complimentary remarks on the food and
service, ending "and of course we'll recommend you to our friends."
"You
don't have any," Cle muttered childishly.
The
man was busy with his pots and pans so he didn't hear her, but Dev turned to
glare.
Before
he could say anything to her, Cle went to the counter and lifted one of the
glass laden trays. She knew she would have to return to the kitchen for the
champagne but fear and a desire to make a flashy exit drove her to the lounge
area.
Most
of the people there were watching the television. A man was promising a minute
by minute countdown to the new year as Cle placed the glasses on a table. She
was about to ask Max if he would mind getting the champagne when Dev stepped
close to her back. He was carrying several bottles and a linen towel. He put
everything down on the table and with a minimum of effort he uncorked the
first bottle and began filling the glasses. "This isn't
Cle." One black brow arched.
"I'm
settling for French," she snapped, lifting two of the glasses and handing
them to the two models named Sandy and Lee.
Before
she could take more from the tray, Ginna was there.
"Oh,
Cle dear, let me help. You see to your guests. I'll be Dev's wine waiter."
Ginna beamed up at him.
"Why
thank you, Ginna." Dev's smile had a sensuous curve.
Cle
turned away almost bumping into Diana Nivens. "Oh, sorry. The closer it gets
to midnight, the clumsier I get." She forced a smile.
"You
mustn't mind Ginna and Pam. They love to flirt and let's face it, Dev Carstairs
is the best looking thing to hit
Cle
could feel heat in her face. "It has nothing to do with me how many women
Dev has. He and I are just.. .acquaintances." The lie was like a wad of
gum in her mouth.
When
a glass of champagne was pushed into her hand, she took a sip at once.
"Don't
gulp that stuff, darling. I'd rather not have to pick you up off the floor at
your own party," Dev crooned into her ear.
Cle
rounded on him, sputtering. "How like you to remind me of a very
embarrassing incident..."
"Sickening,
too, as I recall." He smiled down at her.
Cle
gasped. "You're a rat, Devon Carstairs." She muttered an oath and
took another gulp of champagne, then seeing Diana's curious glance, she almost
choked. She debated with herself if she would go over and explain to Diana that
the antipathy between Dev and herself was a long standing family feud, when he
took her arm and turned her closer to him. She looked up at him, still angry.
"The
announcer says we only have two minutes." Dev's smile had a hard twist to
it. "And you are staying with me."
Cle
was trying to think of an argument, trying to steel herself against the
pleasure that was mounting in her because Dev had his arm about her, when
someone yelled "Happy New Year."
Dev
took the glass from her hand and set it with his on a table. Then as though he
had all the time in the world he enfolded her against him, tightened his hold
at her token struggle, then let his mouth drop to hers like a brand.
At
the first touch, Cle was lost, so much so, that she wrapped her arms around his
neck. Dev's hold lifted her to her toes, then off the floor.
Cle
could hear the other voices, could sense their movements but nothing intruded.
She was on another planet with Dev. Their mouths were hungry for each other,
their hands and bodies clutching and straining to be together.
When
Dev released her and lowered her back to the floor, Cle was dazed. She tried to
focus on Dev, when she was yanked away from him by Max who embraced her and
swung her away. Next Jaime took hold of her. Cle sensed an urgency in his kiss
but she was still too bemused by Dev's touch to analyze it.
She
felt she was being passed around like a package but was glad of the excitement,
hoping it had diverted attention from her and Dev.
Everyone
came together in a large, loosely formed circle and held hands to sing
"Auld Land Syne." Dev was standing between Pam and Ginna, and the
sight brought a taste as bitter as alum to Cle's mouth as she thought of him
kissing those women. She resolutely turned away. Soon though, the strain of
keeping her eyes away from Dev began to tell. Her head started to ache and she was
glad when the first couples decided to leave.
Diana
and Alistair insisted on helping to clean up and so did Max. All Cle's arguing
that there wasn't much to do was to no avail. Jaime even helped by finishing a
few of the cheese puffs left on a tray. He did accompany Max to the kitchen,
carrying one champagne glass, and chattering all the while about a new process
he was working on to develop a dye for polyesters.
There
was no way Cle could politely ask Dev to leave while the others were there. She
seethed when he gave her a big smile and began collecting empty champagne
bottles.
"He
probably hasn't done this much manual labor in years," she muttered under
her breath. "No doubt he'll have a stroke when he realizes how he's
demeaned himself." She gave a cruel swipe at a food tray with the cloth
in her hand.
"For
someone who is just an acquaintance, he sure acts like a buddy, doesn't
he?" Diana purred next to her, wiping out an ashtray with a napkin.
Cle
frowned at her new friend. "He's an insensitive ass, that's all." Cle
smiled her brightest smile as Diana's mouth went wide with astonishment.
Her
headache got worse and worse as she vowed frantically, I will get over him! I
will get over him! All the while a second little voice pounded an incessant
chant of "ha ha ha."
To
her surprise, Dev made no fuss when it was time to go. He did not leave any
earlier than any of the others, but he did go with the last of them. Cle wasn't
even irritated when he announced at the last moment that he was going to visit
her bathroom. It only took minutes.
By
the time the apartment was empty, Cle's head was throbbing so badly that all
she could think of was the routine she had to force herself to follow. First a
soak in a hot tub to relax, then the two specially prescribed tablets to take,
then a hot drink.
She
staggered into the bathroom and ran the water, promising to sleep until noon
tomorrow... today, rather, she reminded herself.
She
took her time in the bath, breathing deeply in the steamy atmosphere. Even
though the temperature was in the high seventies out of doors, and she was
dreadfully uncomfortable, she had to go through with it. Then, with the towel
wrapped around her, her wet toes curling on the tile floor, she reached for the
tablets that she kept in the lacquered Chinese cupboard that was the same color
as the tiles. She swallowed them and gulped the water, sighing. Now one more
step. She would have to make herself a hot drink, then sleep, and her headache
would diminish if not go away entirely. She only had one or two of these a year
but if she didn't treat them at once, they would get progressively worse,
finally making her nauseated and very ill.
When
she came out of the bathroom, she fumbled in her dresser drawer for a cool
nightie. She donned a sheer cotton that had the texture of silk and was just as
transparent.
Doddering
to the kitchen like a woman old before her time; she kept one hand clutched to
her head. She had to hope it wouldn't explode before the capsules and hot drink
did their work.
Groggy,
she stared at the apparition in front of her.
"What
are you doing here?" she asked Dev through lips as stiff as pasteboard.
He
turned from the stove, a steaming cup in his hand. "Here you are, love,
your hot drink. It's lemon, honey, and hot water. Just what you need." Dev
inclined his head at her, his eyes widening as they roved her from head to
foot.
"Get
out of here," she rasped at him, nausea making her sway.
Dev
was across the room in two strides. He put the cup down on the counter, then
swept her up into his arms.
Cle
was too weak to argue with him and her head lolled on his shoulder. "I'm
never sick. Put me down at once."
"Don't
lie. You get violently ill when you have one of your headaches. You haven't had
one in ages. I hope you see the folly of leaving me. It's made you sick."
"Has
not." Cle moaned as he put her down on the bed and went back for the hot
drink.
Dev
returned, lifted her, holding her about the shoulders while she drank.
"There. Now you'll sleep. Don't worry. I'll take care of everything."
"Just
go away. Please," she begged, then groaned and turned on her side.