Keeping Company Page 11

  “The Crystal of Kalamari,” he said as he settled back down on the bed. He held the pin between his thumb and forefinger so Alaina could see the colors that burst inside it.

  “Take it,” he said, pressing it into her open palm. “It has all kinds of powers. All you have to do is hold it in your hand and make a wish. You’ll be deflated in no time.”

  “Is that a fact?” Alaina said without hope. She took the bit of glass, a sad smile touching her mouth at Dylan’s attempt to lighten her mood.

  “Absolutely. The wizard Danathamien imbued it with the ability to heal. It can also bore a hole through the head of a cyclops, but that’s another story. The point is, it’s full of magic.”

  “Magic.” The word had a very unmagical flatness coming from her lips.

  “Magic,” Dylan said resolutely. “I think it might do you some good to believe in magic.”

  Alaina almost laughed at his words, words that rang too familiar in her ears. More than once during the course of their Fearsome Foursome days, Bryan Hennessy had told her the very same thing—that she ought to believe in magic. How could she believe in it? she wondered. To date she had never seen any evidence of it in her life.

  If there had been magic, then she would have grown up in a normal family with parents who loved her and Clayton Collier would never have taken advantage of her and Dylan Harrison would think of her as something other than a means to an end.

  If there were magic, she thought as she closed her fist around the warm vee of glass and closed her eyes against the threat of tears, then Dylan would take her in his arms right now and make love to her and make her feel cherished and chase away the loneliness that haunted her heart.

  “Let’s see if it’s working,” he said, gently turning Alaina onto her back and combing her hair back from her eyes.

  She was beautiful. He didn’t bother to wonder whether it was the Crystal or the allergy medication that had done the trick, but the swelling in her face had reduced to a slight fullness that merely softened the angles. Her eyes were closed, revealing a tracery of fine blue veins in the delicate skin of her lids. Tears clung to her lashes, turning them to soft, dew-kissed black spikes against her cheeks. Her lips were full and red and trembling ever so slightly, like rosebuds in the wind.

  All her barriers were gone. Her shields were down. The ice, the polish, the sarcasm, had all fled. She was completely defenseless in this moment as he stared at her. A shiver coursed through him at the realization that this was the woman the bedroom had told him about. This was the woman who hid her fragility from a world that must have hurt her more than once.

  Tracing his hand along the porcelain oval of her face, Dylan felt his own defenses drop. In this still, quiet moment of revelation, he opened his heart and fell in love.

  Slowly he lowered his mouth to Alaina’s, brushing his lips across hers with exquisite care. When she offered no protest, he tasted her again. She was satin and warmth and a taste like wine, and he thought he would never get enough of her.

  Alaina didn’t question his kiss, she accepted it. She let her lips part at the request of his and welcomed him into her mouth. Still clutching the Crystal in her fist, she slid her arms around Dylan’s neck and pulled him down to her, needing nothing in this instant so much as to hold him. She savored every nuance of the moment—the feel of his muscles beneath her hands, the tingling in her breasts as his chest pressed against them, the gentle thrust of his tongue against hers, the growing ache of need deep in her belly.

  A sigh whispered through her lips as Dylan trailed the kiss across the line of her jaw and downward to the smooth, cool column of her throat. She turned her head to allow him better access to the sensitive spot.

  This was bliss, to have him touching her this way. Whatever else it might have been didn’t matter now. All that mattered was the mutual feeling flowing between them, the need to touch, to communicate in a way that had nothing to do with words or logic. It was as if their souls spoke to each other. Their needs reached out to entwine around each other.

  The light that filtered through the window gilded them in tones of gold and sepia. It was that time when day hung on to its last moment before sliding into night, when time seemed suspended in the last rays of the sun. And it was the kind of moment Alaina knew would become suspended in her memory, unrelated to anything that had happened to her before or would happen after.

  Dylan raised up, his dark gaze intent as he looked down at Alaina. She met his stare, her blue eyes warm with a certainty that went soul deep. With one hand she tugged loose the belt of her robe and let the garment fall open. Desire swirled through Dylan, robbing him of whatever sanity he may have had left as he feasted his eyes on womanly beauty.

  The dress she’d been wearing the night they met had hinted at this. Dylan had imagined the hidden details more than once, but the reality took his breath away. She was every dream he’d ever dreamed. Her large, ripe breasts strained to be free of the mauve lace bra she wore. Her waist was slender, her hips perfectly curved. French-cut mauve lace panties only accented her feminine lines. Beneath them hid her womanly secrets, and below them stretched the shapely legs he had longed to touch, longed to feel wrapped around his hips.

  Her invitation was unmistakable. Dylan accepted without hesitation or question. He loved her. Caution kept him from voicing the words. Love wasn’t what they had agreed to. In fact, they had both stated it was something they wanted to avoid. Just because his own mind had changed didn’t mean Alaina’s had … yet. So he wouldn’t frighten her by telling her of the feelings that had snuck up and hit him like a freight train, but he would sure as hell show her. Where they would go from there, he didn’t know; his impulsive nature wasn’t given to thinking far beyond the moment. The important thing was this was right.

  Slowly he lifted a hand to Alaina’s breast, tracing his fingertips along the scalloped edge of her bra, then slipping them inside to lift the full globe out. As he had imagined, she was warm and heavy in his hand.

  Alaina watched him, her breathing shallow, as he bent his head and touched his lips to her nipple. A shudder passed through her when he took the distended peak into his mouth and sucked deeply. She moved restlessly beneath him, anticipation singing along hypersensitive nerves just beneath the fevered surface of her skin.

  Her fingers tangled in the unruly curls of his chestnut hair, then roamed to drag his T-shirt up his back. More than her next breath she wanted to feel his skin against hers. As she removed that barrier, Dylan’s hand swept down her belly to catch at her panties. His thumb hooked beneath the waistband and dragged the garment down. Alaina lifted her hips to accommodate their descent, gasping as Dylan’s thumb delved between feminine petals of flesh to rub against the most sensitive part of her.

  Need exploded within her like fireworks, sparkling and brilliant. This was like nothing she had ever known or imagined. Her usual need for control over her passions was vaporized by the heat of this more basic need, the need to come together with this man, only with this man.

  She pulled his shirt off and flung it, not noticing or caring that it landed on the window seat and sent her cat running for cover. All her attention was focused on Dylan and the incredible sensations he was conjuring up inside her. She ran her hands over the long muscles of his back, reveling in the tension she found there. He was trembling with desire just as she was. The knowledge gave her a feeling of power and wonder and kinship with him. It was a feeling she shared with him in her kiss when he returned his lips to hers.

  While he plundered her mouth, she explored his body. Her fingertips traced over the ridges of his chest, testing the softness of the dark curls there, then following the line of hair to the silky patch that spread across his quivering belly. Without the slightest hesitation her hand slid lower, popping open the button on his jeans and tugging down the zipper that was strained by the evidence of his passion. A groan of carnal satisfaction rolled up from deep in his chest as her fingers slipped his briefs down and clo
sed gently around his shaft. He was hot and full in her hand, throbbing with a need that echoed in her own body, a need that cried out in them both as they stroked each other.

  Dylan pulled away from her for just a moment, just long enough to shed the last of his clothes. When he returned, there was nothing between them but desire. Alaina offered herself to him, offered her love, though the words never passed her lips. Dylan hadn’t asked for love from her, but she would give it now, silently, because her heart was overflowing with it.

  She took him into her body, a soft moan parting her lips as he entered her and sank as deep as he could. Dylan braced himself above her, watching her face as the tightness of her rippled around him, adjusting to his intrusion. She was like hot silk embracing the most masculine part of him. Then her legs were embracing him as well, winding around him as he had dreamed they would, smooth and strong around his lean hips.

  He raised one hand to touch her cheek, to brush his thumb across her swollen lower lip, to caress the tip of her dusky nipple that was still wet from his mouth. He drew his hand lower, over the downy softness of her belly to the tangle of dark curls at the juncture of her thighs, and he touched her as he had before—his thumb seeking out the hidden bud. As he caressed her she moved restlessly beneath him and around him.

  The only word spoken was his name, whispered softly when Alaina opened her eyes and reached up to him. Dylan lowered himself into her arms, and she held him for a long moment before passion swept them both into a whirlwind.

  They moved frantically then, reaching for something they both knew instinctively had been beyond their grasp before. Dylan’s movements were strong and rhythmic. He drove deep, trying to give Alaina all the pleasure he could. Alaina clutched at him, lifting her hips into his, digging her fingernails into the straining muscles of his back. They rolled across the bed, tangling in the coverlet. Pillows flew in every direction. The bed creaked beneath them as they sought leverage and angles that rewarded them with sensations unlike any they’d ever known.

  So this was what it was like, Alaina thought dimly as the pleasure crested on a wave that took her breath away and filled her with rapture. This was what it was like to make love. This was what it was like to be in love.

  It was an emotion she had doubted and derided, feared in a way because it had never really touched her life. It was touching her life now. For one brilliant moment she knew a completion of body and soul that transcended words. As Dylan groaned and stiffened against her, finding his own release, Alaina held him and wondered how she had managed to live this long without him.

  And when he left her body, the cold emptiness that filled her made her wonder how she would live beyond this moment.

  She was in love with Dylan Harrison, but that had definitely not been part of the deal.

  Chapter 7

  “The deal is off,” Alaina said decisively. “I think you’ll have to agree with me when I say it simply isn’t working out. Eventually our friends will see through the ruse, and we’ll have to deal with them. I see no point in delaying the inevitable, do you?”

  Her reflection didn’t answer her. She stared at herself in the mirror above the sink in her tiny office bathroom, imagining Dylan nodding in agreement, looking grave but sensible.

  “Of course he’ll agree,” she muttered as she leaned toward the mirror, studying her hair with a critical eye. She reached up and yanked out a gray one. “Just because we had fantastic sex doesn’t mean he’ll be blind to reason.”

  Her fingers sought out another silver thread among the brown and snatched it out with a practiced flick of the wrist.

  Butterflies executed a wild barrel roll in her stomach. She hoped to God Dylan would see reason. After he’d gone home she had sat up in bed most of the night thinking and had come to the conclusion that she didn’t want to keep up the pretense of feeling nothing for him when she was feeling something very special and he was not.

  For a few moments she had allowed herself the luxury of thinking it might work out between them. She had pictured herself as Dylan’s wife, as the mother of his children. In this picture they had been a happy, loving family. It was a nice picture, one she yearned for and feared to reach out for all at once.

  “Too good to be true, that’s what it is,” she muttered, fighting down the ache of tears in her throat.

  She had been a fool to let her feelings run away with her the way they had. Really, she couldn’t quite understand what had gone wrong. Her emotions never ran as close to the surface as they had yesterday. It wasn’t at all normal for her to go around openly yearning for a husband and children. In fact, she seldom allowed herself to think such thoughts at all.

  “Must be PMS,” she grumbled, pulling out another gray hair.

  It wasn’t prudent for her to be in love with Dylan Harrison, so she just wouldn’t be. Simple. All she had to do was call him and tell him the deal was off.

  “No sweat,” she said, sounding far more certain than she felt. “I got an A-plus in confrontation.”

  A sharp knock sounded on the door, and it was pulled open before Alaina had a chance to say anything. Marlene filled the doorway, half-glasses sliding down her nose, a load of mail and paperwork cradled on one flabby arm. “Quit pulling out the gray ones, you’ll go bald.”

  Alaina planted her hands on her hips, outraged at the intrusion and embarrassed at being caught. “Is no part of my life private from you, Marlene?”

  “I doubt it. I’m clairvoyant, you know.”

  Grinding her teeth, Alaina stepped into her office and went to sit behind her table to page through a stack of papers. “So you’ve told me. Well, if you’re reading my mind now, you’ll know you’d better have something valid to say, and then you’d better run like hell because I’m contemplating the relative merits of homicide.”

  Marlene ignored the warning. She shuffled toward the desk, browsing through the mail. “You got an invitation to the California Bar Association annual bash in San Francisco. They want to know if you’re going and who you’re going with. What do you want me to tell them?”

  The Bar Association dinner dance. Alaina stared down at the page in front of her, not seeing a word of the print. How many times in the last few days had she pictured herself attending the gala on Dylan’s arm, Dylan decked out in a tux and herself wearing a fabulous, though appropriately understated, dress, the two of them whirling around the dance floor. It was a silly thing, really, but the thought of missing out on that depressed her nearly to the point of tears.

  “I know this podiatrist in Gualala,” said Marlene.

  “I don’t need a podiatrist.”

  “You need a date. He doesn’t mind lawyers, though he stated on his match application he would prefer a pedicurist. Interesting guy. He’s got an extra little toe on his left foot. Has to have all his shoes custom-made. I’ll call him—”

  Alaina grimaced. “Over my dead body!”

  Marlene waved a hand in dismissal as she moved toward the door. “You’ll thank me for it.”

  “I’ll thank you to mind your own business, Marlene,” Alaina said tartly. She held out a hand. “Leave the invitation with me; I’ll take care of it myself.”

  “If you take Dylan, you’ll have to put him on a leash. He can’t stand lawyers—present company excluded, of course,” she said, her grating voice lacking the proper enthusiasm.

  Alaina’s stomach sank like a lead weight. She took the engraved invitation from her secretary’s hand and stared at it. Maybe she’d just skip the damn thing. Once upon a time events like the gala had been important to her. It had seemed essential to see and be seen in a crowd of that caliber. It was the kind of atmosphere where contacts were made, where sharp talent jockeyed for position to climb up the ladder of success. Her ambition for such things had gone out. The only reason she had wanted to attend was to go dancing with Dylan.

  She swore under her breath. What was this sudden thing she had for dancing? Dancing! Silly, romantic nonsense.

 
Heaving a sigh, she pushed the thoughts away and cloaked herself in cool professionalism as she looked up at her secretary. “What do I have scheduled for today?”

  “You’ve got a prospective client coming in at ten-thirty about a civil suit.” Marlene made her Deputy Skreawupp face and shook her head. “You’re not going to like him; he’s an Aries.”

  “Marlene!” Alaina groaned as she lifted her hands to rub at the dull ache that had settled in her temples. “Say you didn’t ask him!”

  The woman shrugged a heavy shoulder. “It came up in the conversation.”

  Not trusting herself to say another word, Alaina waved her secretary away. When the door to the outer office clicked shut, she picked up the telephone receiver and dialed Dylan’s number.

  “Moose Lodge,” a cheery voice answered, “Bullwinkle speaking.”

  Alaina gave the phone a wary look as if it must have goofed up the number itself. Hesitantly she said, “Dylan?”

  “Alaina?”

  A heavy silence weighed the line between them. On his end, Dylan sat at his worktable in his underwear, enjoying Mrs. Pepoon’s day off, which also happened to be his own day off. The kids had left for school with their usual Monday-morning commotion. His intentions had been to spend the morning working on the model of the shuttle craft Galileo he and Sam were going to add to their Star Trek collection. The half-finished model lay before him like an open clam shell, waiting. So far he had spent his time eating Oreos and wondering what to do about Alaina.