Garden of the Moongate (9 page)

When Allendre stopped at the front desk to request that the beach bus be sent to pick up the older ladies, Loretta assured her that it would leave the garage immediately and got on the phone to call down to one of the drivers. Dressed in a navy skirt and white cotton blouse, with her hair smoothed back in a neat bun, Loretta was much more attractive and infinitely more efficient than she had been yesterday. And she actually seemed happier now that she knew what was expected of her, so it looked as if Ric were making progress.

Uncomfortable in the lobby in her short terry robe, Allendre hurried to the elevators and only had to wait a few seconds before the doors of one opened. Unfortunately, it was occupied. Ric stood alone inside, obviously on his way up from the ground floor. As Allendre hesitated when she saw him, his dark eyebrows lifted mockingly. "Going up?" he prompted as carelessly as if last evening had never occurred.

She forced herself to step into the elevator and pressed the button for the fourth floor.

"Been to the beach, I see," he commented lazily, turning to face her as the doors closed. "Or did you just sun yourself by the pool?"

"I went to the beach," she muttered, not quite meeting his eyes. In such a small, confined place, he seemed even more overwhelming than usual, his casual outfit of white jeans and navy polo shirt making him appear more appealing and virile than ever. Tugging self-consciously at the hem of her short robe, she could only pray the elevator didn't break down between floors. It would be far too unnerving to be trapped here with him, Allendre thought.

"Well, did you swim?" he persisted when she didn't offer further information. "Or do you go to the beach to sunbathe only?"

"I always swim," she answered defensively, thrusting out her chin as she met his infuriatingly amused gaze. "And you know very well that I've been in the water, unless you think my hair looks this messy every morning."

His gray eyes impaled hers. "I don't have any way of knowing how you look in the morning, do I?" he said, his voice lowering as he added suggestively, "Yet."

As he surveyed her slowly from head to toe her cheeks colored attractively. A curious weakness invaded her legs as she found herself staring at the firm yet sensuous curve of his lower lip, and she muttered in self-defense, "Don't look at me like that. It's insulting."

He nearly grinned. "I assure you I wasn't thinking anything that might insult you. I was thinking your legs are as beautiful as the rest of you. You have very shapely, slender thighs."

"And you have a one-track mind," she retorted, blushing furiously, moving close to the elevator doors. As soon as they opened onto the fourth floor, she stepped out without another word, but she could hear him laughing softly as the doors closed again.

Standing beneath the shower to shampoo her hair cooled her temper somewhat, and she attributed to hunger the vague irritability she still felt as she wrapped herself in a large yellow bath sheet. Settling herself in the chair by her bed, she nibbled a granola bar to stave off a hunger headache and waved a blow dryer at her hair until it looked presentable enough for her to go to lunch. After putting on a grass-green skirt and a new white T-shirt, she slipped her feet into comfortable espadrilles. A touch of red-tinted gloss to her lips and some brown mascara and she was ready. Not a moment too soon, since her empty stomach was beginning to protest loudly. As she went toward the door to leave, however, someone knocked, and she opened it with a questioning smile for the petite redheaded girl on the threshold.

"Hi, I'm Kathy Hill," the girl introduced herself. "Deb Hopkins told my friends and me that you might want to go to Hamilton with us tonight, since you're here all by your lonesome. I just wanted to tell you that we'd be happy to have you come along. There's a really super disco just this side of Hamilton, and we've been having a great time there every night since we arrived. The boys from the naval base crowd in there, so we never lack for male companionship. Want to go with us tonight? We're going early so we can have dinner in town."

"Oh, I have plans for dinner tonight," Allendre said, relieved that her dinner date with the two older women gave her a gracious way to refuse the invitation. Though Kathy seemed a likable, friendly girl, her idea of a great evening and Allendre's didn't exactly coincide. Allendre had never been one to enjoy late nights at discos or singles bars. "But it was nice of you to ask me."

"How about tomorrow night, then?"

"Probably not," Allendre answered candidly. "I'm not really much of a partying person. You know, I prefer a relaxing stroll in the moonlight."

"Don't we all—if we have somebody terrific to stroll with," Kathy quipped, grinning. "Is your dinner date that really super-looking man I noticed you with last night? Well, to be honest, I didn't really notice
you
all that much, but I certainly noticed him. I always notice good-looking men, and if your plans for the evening are with him, I sure don't blame you for not going with us."

"My plans aren't with him," Allendre answered, smiling at the other girl's unabashed curiosity.

"Well, better luck next time," Kathy said with a shrug. "Hey, I'd better run. My friends are waiting. See you around sometime—and if you change your mind about going to Hamilton some night, just let us know."

As Kathy bounded away with a good-natured wave of her hand Allendre stepped out into the hall, pulling her door closed behind her. Maybe she was just an old stick-in-the-mud, but a rip-roaring evening in a Hamilton disco just didn't appeal to her.

After a light lunch of shrimp salad remoulade, Allendre wandered down to the lobby to the shops. When she finally tired of strolling between shelves laden with Bermudian souvenirs, she went into a small jewelry store. She nearly choked when she noticed the price of a gold necklace, then ambled out again.

Mr. Meredith had cautioned her to act like a typical tourist, so she knew she couldn't loiter conspicuously in the lobby all afternoon, waiting to hear what kind of complaints guests made at the desk. On impulse, she went to an unobtrusive livery booth in the lobby's far corner and rented one of the small motorbikes she had seen parked outside.

It had been three or four years since her last excursion on a motorbike, and though an attached basket held her straw purse, freeing both her hands, she didn't feel very secure as she buzzed up Shannon House Drive, then down the curving hill that led to the main road. "Keep to the left, keep to the left," she chanted to herself as a reminder as she slowly wound her way past oleander hedges and flower-bordered pink houses that walled in the serpentine road.

Luckily, there was little traffic in the tiny old village of St. George, so she managed to park her blue-and-white bike down near the harbor without mishap. A huge cruise ship was in port, a Dutch name emblazoned in red letters high up on its gleaming white bow. After seeing all the sights the harbor had to offer, she visited some of the shops on Duke of York Street. Children's pink coral jewelry was a good buy, she thought, so she bought bracelets for three of her young cousins, then found terrific bargains in a cashmere sweater for her mother and a bottle of French perfume for Lynn. When she tired of shopping, she decided to finish her gift buying some other day. She went back to the harbor where she'd parked her bike, checking the time on her gold wristwatch. It was only two-thirty. There was plenty of time to ride part of the way toward Hamilton, just to see the sights.

Her decision to go on was a mistake. Traffic picked up considerably as she passed the airport, and since she still didn't feel quite steady on the motorbike, the cars and buses that whizzed past her put her nerves in a jangle. Every time she spotted a place where she might have turned around, she was past it. The road curved too often for her to see what lay ahead. Then, before she could think of any way to prevent it, she was boxed in. The road had been carved through solid limestone, and the sheer rock faces towered above her on each side. Now she was forced to go on, even when a bus roared up behind her, so close she was certain she would feel it hit her at any moment. Her pulse pounded in her ears, though she managed not to panic completely. After that what seemed like an eternity, she was beyond the tunnellike rock facings, on open road again. Unable to stand the bus behind her another minute, she braked with foolish abruptness and veered off the road, bumping to a halt on the rough shoulder. The impatient driver's toot on the horn nearly sent her into cardiac arrest as she realized she had almost made him hit her by stopping so fast.

"Oh, God," she muttered weakly as she turned off the bike's motor. She removed the safety helmet she wore with hands that shook so violently that it slipped from her fingers and clattered to the ground. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself. Somehow, if she wanted to ever return to the hotel, she had to face driving back between those towering rock walls again, but she wasn't at all sure she could force herself to do it.

Luckily, she was rescued. Before she could push the bike farther from the road onto the grass beyond the shoulder, a black BMW came to a dust-raising halt beside her. Ric got out, his expression thunderous.

As he strode toward Allendre she groaned inwardly. Her nerves were shattered already. She didn't need a confrontation with him to add to her misery.

"Are you all right?" he muttered roughly, and when she nodded, his hard hands gripped her upper arms. "For God's sake, what were you trying to do? Only an idiot turns off that fast without any warning. That bus came within inches of hitting you! You're lucky you didn't become a fatality statistic just now!"

"I know that. And I don't need you growling at me about it," she said squeakily, humiliated when tears sprang to her eyes. She twisted free of his grip and turned away, only to feel his hands descend much more gently onto her shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Allie," he murmured, drawing her back against the hard length of his body for an instant before releasing her to catch her hand in his. "Come with me. Sit in the car until you feel calmer."

Too weak-kneed to resist, she complied. A moment later she rested her head back against the tan leather seat, closing her eyes as Ric slid in beneath the steering wheel beside her. "I don't suppose you've ever even been on a motorbike before today, have you?" he asked, though not unkindly.

She nodded. "I have, but it was a long time ago."

"You should have practiced riding around Shannon and St. George for a day or so before trying to come this far."

Allendre's eyes fluttered open as she turned her head to give him a tremulous smile. "I know that, too. Now. And I think I'll be taking the bus from now on whenever I decide to go somewhere."

His answering smile was neither mocking nor insulting. It was simply warm. "If you were on your way to Hamilton, why don't you wait until tomorrow to go? I have an appointment at the bank at eleven. If you like, you can ride in with me."

Astounded by the invitation, she could only nod at first, but then she managed to murmur her thanks weakly.

"I'll leave the hotel about ten," he added. "Meet you in the lobby."

She nodded again, unaware that she had caught her lower lip between her teeth and was staring at him bewilderedly until his eyes challenged hers for a second. Then he looked away; he took a cigarette from a pack on the dash and after lighting it, inhaled deeply. He spoke again only after a long minute of uncomfortable silence. "Did you ever get together with those girls Deb mentioned to you?"

"I met one of them just before lunch today."

"And are they going to show you Hamilton's swinging nightlife tonight?"

"Not tonight," she answered, too stubborn to tell him they never would. "I have plans for dinner this evening."

"Do you?" he responded curtly, his eyes a cold steel gray as they turned on her again. "Anyone I know?"

"You might. I'm dining with Mrs. Wainwright and Mrs. Chandler," Allendre said, gaining some grim satisfaction when a flicker of surprise registered in his eyes. The involuntary reaction was gone as quickly as it had come, and his expression became unreadable again. He tapped the ash from his cigarette into an ashtray built into the gear console. But as she heaved a soft sigh and stared out the window she felt his lean fingers grazing her jaw. They slipped into her hair and curved around her slender neck.

"Come here," he commanded softly, grinding the cigarette out, and his other hand came to rest on the curve of her waist. Unmindful of the gear console, he pulled her to him, so that she was half reclining across his lap, her wide eyes gazing up into the narrowed darkness of his. "Relax," he coaxed, brushing a tendril of golden hair back from the pulse that pounded in her temple. "I learned my lesson last night. I won't rush if you don't want me to."

"Ric, wait, I…" Her words were halted by a light, feathering kiss that teased her lips until they parted breathlessly and a sweet rushing thrill throbbed deep inside her. Suddenly, last night was forgotten completely. All that mattered was right now. As his thumb came up to brush the soft brown sweep of her eyebrow she sighed tremulously, lifting her hand to touch a light, exploring fingertip to first one corner of his mouth, then the other. He caught the soft end of her finger between his strong white teeth, and she shivered when his hand on her nape slipped downward, lingering heavily as it grazed over her breast, then followed the enticing contours of waist and hip to come to rest warm and hard against her upper thigh. The arm around her waist tightened, pulling her to him as he lowered his head. Gentle, restrained kisses trailed over her closed eyelids, down to the appealing hollow of her cheek. Ripples of anticipation danced along her spine as his mouth moved slowly, too slowly, over her soft skin, and she pressed closer to him until his lips hovered above her own.

"Blast, we would pick a parked car by the side of the road to start something like this," he murmured. "If we were anywhere else, I'd… It's inevitable, Allendre. You know that, don't you?"

She was unable to answer as fear and desire warred in her and desire won for a few incredibly pleasurable moments. Almost of their own volition, her arms wrapped around his neck and she was crushed against him as his hard, twisting lips descended and took the soft sweetness of hers with near-bruising force. Again and again he kissed her, nibbling her lower lip, caressing its tender inner flesh with the tip of his tongue, until her own mouth was as eagerly seeking as his and her slender body was relaxed and utterly yielding in his arms. His hand squeezed her thigh, then sought her waist, tugging her shirt free of the green skirt. And as her fingers entangled tightly in the thick, springy hair on his nape his hand slipped beneath the shirt to seek the throbbing fullness of her lace-cupped breasts.