The Virgin Mistress (13 page)

“I trusted him.”

“Yes, you did. But that doesn't mean you did anything wrong, honey. You were just trying to help a friend you thought was in trouble and he took advantage of that. That's a reflection on
him,
not you. Don't beat yourself up over this.”

He might as well have saved his breath. “You know what bothers me the most?” she continued as if he hadn't spoken. “Just imagining what was going on in his head
every time I caught him watching me.” Revulsion flickering in her eyes, she shivered. “I feel so dirty.”

Just that easily, she made him understand so many things he hadn't understood before. And he ached for her in ways he'd never imagined he could. She'd been through hell, not just today, but in the past, and he'd have done anything to take those memories away from her. But he couldn't. No one could. They were as much a part of her as the color of her eyes, and all he could do was help her deal with them whenever they reared their ugly head and intruded on the present.

“Why don't you take a bath?” he suggested huskily. “A nice long soak in a hot tub? It'll relax you and make you feel better.”

“But I don't want you to leave.”

“I won't,” he promised. “Go on.”

When she hesitated, he could almost see the wheels spinning in her head. She wanted to trust him, to know that she could take a bath without fear of him walking in on her, but she just couldn't. All her trust had been destroyed by another man.

“It's okay,” he said quietly, wishing he could hug her but knowing better than to even try. “You're safe. I would never do anything to make you feel the way that bastard did this afternoon. You have my word on that.”

For a long moment, she didn't move. Her eyes searched his, probing deep, and he welcomed the scrutiny. Staring steadily back, he didn't try to hide anything. His caring was there in his eyes for her to see, and somehow, that must have finally reassured her. “Thanks,” she choked. “I'll try to hurry.”

“Take your time,” he returned easily. “I don't care how long it takes. I'll still be here when you get out.”

F
orty minutes later, when Rebecca returned to the living room, she looked much more relaxed. She'd changed into faded jeans and an oversized T-shirt and hadn't bothered with shoes. With her hair still damp from her bath and hanging in ringlets halfway down her back, she looked like a six-year-old.

His green eyes twinkling, Austin grinned. “I didn't know your hair was naturally curly.”

She wrinkled her nose and self-consciously lifted her hand to her hair to smooth out the wayward curls. “Whenever it gets wet, it has a mind of its own. I always hated it when I was a kid—until I learned how to straighten it.”

“It's beautiful,” he assured her, and spoke nothing less than the truth. In the late afternoon sunlight that spilled through the west windows, the dark curls were streaked
with gold and chestnut highlights. “So how are you feeling?”

“Better,” she replied. “I'm trying not to think about it.”

There was some color back in her cheeks, and her eyes weren't as haunted as they had been, but they both knew memories of the attack would remain in her system like a virus that sickened with no warning. If she didn't want it to sneak up on her, she had to keep as busy as possible.

“It might help if you got out of the apartment for a while,” he suggested. “Why don't we grab something to eat somewhere?”

“Oh, I don't know,” she hedged, glancing down at her clothes. “I'm not really dressed to go out.”

“Trust me, you'll fit in perfectly where we're going,” he assured her with a grin. “C'mon. Let's go.”

He didn't give her time to argue, but simply grabbed her purse from where she'd dumped it on the couch when she ran in from school, then hustled her out the door to his car. Ten minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of a pizza place that catered to kids. Judging from the number of vans in the parking lot, it was the most popular spot in town for families with children.

“I know you deal with kids all day and you might want a break from all that,” he told her, “but if you want a place where you don't have to think, this is it. The noise level's got to be through the roof.”

It was. Stepping inside, Rebecca winced as a cacophony of sound hit her right in the face. But Austin was right. She couldn't hear herself think. Pleased, she grinned and let him lead her to one of the picnic tables that overlooked the game area.

She would have sworn she was still too upset to eat, but Austin kept going back to the buffet line, bringing her
every conceivable type of pizza known to man, and it was all delicious. Without quite knowing how it happened, she was sure she ate enough to feed an army.

She couldn't remember the last time she laughed so much. And it was all because of the kids that roamed the place like a bunch of monkeys that had just been released from the zoo. Running and jumping and playing, they were everywhere.

“This was a great idea,” she yelled at Austin, grinning as a group of three-year-olds tackled the clown that management had hired to help entertain the younger kids. “Look at the little redhead. She pulled off his nose.”

“That's something I would have done,” he yelled back. “One time when my mother took me to see Santa, I pulled off his beard. I thought it was Dad in disguise.”

“Uh-oh. I bet that didn't go over too well.”

“The store manager was pretty ticked, especially when all the kids in line started crying and didn't want their pictures taken with a fake Santa. He didn't make much money that day.”

Watching the laughter dance in his eyes, Rebecca could just imagine him as a little boy full of mischief. “I bet you drove your mother nuts when you were a little boy.”

He didn't deny it. “She has gray hair today because of me.”

She just grinned at that. They both knew his mother, Andie, had beautiful blond hair that she invariably wore up in a neat, timeless chignon. Her blue-gray eyes twinkling, she lifted a delicately arched brow at him. “And your dad?”

“Oh, he pulled his out years ago. He's bald as a billiard ball.”

Since Peter McGrath had a full head of brown hair, just like his son, Rebecca couldn't help but laugh. “No kid
ding? So he wears a wig, does he? And all this time, I thought that was his real hair.”

“Hey, he got that rug from the best wigmaker in Europe. The Queen gets all her stuff from the same guy. Nothing but the best for Dad.”

When it came to rugs, he could lie like one. For the rest of the meal—and during the drive back to her apartment afterwards—he told one outrageous story after another. By the time they reached her front door, she was in tears again, but this time from laughter. And she could have kissed him for it. Thanks to him, she'd been able to forget, at least for a little while, the kisses Richard had forced on her, and she would always be grateful to Austin for that.

But as he unlocked her front door for her, she knew the frightening memories would start pushing in on her the second she was once again alone with her own thoughts. And she dreaded it.

Lost in her own musings, she didn't realize he was watching her until he said quietly, “I can stay for a while, if you like. I was just going to go back to the hotel and write up my weekly report for Joe. I can do that later if you want me to stay.”

He made the offer casually, as if it were no big deal, but Rebecca knew he'd noticed how uneasy she was. He really was a sweet man, she thought. And she'd have liked nothing better than for him to stay another couple of hours, just until it was time for her to go to bed. But he'd done so much for her already. She couldn't continue to accept his help. Sooner or later, she was going to have to be alone with her own thoughts, and the longer she put it off, the harder it would be.

“I would love for you to stay,” she told him candidly as she turned to face him, “but I can't. I have to deal
with this, and I have to do it alone. But you don't know how much I appreciate everything you did for me this evening.” Sudden tears welling in her eyes, she smiled mistily. “I'd hug you if I could, but I don't think that's a very good idea right now.”

“It's not always going to be this way,” he promised her. “Just give yourself time. And even though I understand why you don't want me to stay, you're not alone. If you need someone to talk to, call me. Even if it's the middle of the night. Okay?”

Touched, she nodded. “I will,” she said huskily. “Thanks.”

 

Leaving her was the hardest thing Austin had ever done. She had no business being alone after what she'd been through, but he couldn't very well demand that she let him stay. Men had made too many demands of her as it was. On this, at least, she was calling the shots. And it wasn't as if he was abandoning her. He would call her later to see how she was doing. In the meantime, he had something else to take care of.

His face grim, he stopped at the first convenience store and went inside to borrow the phone book to look up an address. Two minutes later, he was on his way to Richard Foster's house. It was time the two of them had a talk.

Steaming, he told himself that was all he was going to do—talk to the man. He wasn't a Neanderthal who let his temper control his common sense, he intended to be civilized. He'd knock on the door, say what he had to say, and leave. And if Richard Foster had a single brain cell in his head, he'd never touch Rebecca again or so much as look at her wrong. Because if he did, and Austin heard about it, he'd make him wish he'd never been born.

A muscle ticked at his jaw as he thought of the terror
Rebecca had suffered because of the jackass's insensitivity and selfishness. He turned down Foster's street and easily found the small bungalow where he lived. Located on a corner in a quiet, older neighborhood that had become trendy again, it was set well back from the street and had a red Explorer in the drive.

“Good,” Austin said in satisfaction as he parked at the curb. The lights were on in the front window. He'd make this short and sweet, then get back to his hotel so he'd be there if Rebecca called. Before the night was through, he had a feeling she was going to need him, and he intended to be there for her.

All his good intentions flew right out the window, however, the second Foster answered his knock. Austin had never met him before, but there was no question in his mind that this was Rebecca's boss and the same man who had grabbed her and forced her to accept his kisses. There were scratch marks all over his face.

His eyes narrowing on those scratches, Austin hung on to his self-control just long enough to growl, “Richard Foster?”

Behind the lenses of his glasses, the other man's beady little eyes were wary. “Yes?”

“You son of a bitch!” Rage temporarily consuming his common sense, he moved lightning-quick and grabbed him by the throat. A split second later, he shoved him up against the door to his own house and couldn't have cared less that they were in full view of the neighbors or anyone who chose to drive by. All he could think of was that this snivelling little piece of nothing had not only forced his kisses on Rebecca, but he'd scared her so badly that she'd had to fight her way out of his arms. And by God, Austin was going to make him admit it!

“What did you do to Rebecca?”

“Nothing!”

“Wrong answer,” he snarled, shaking him like a rag doll. “Try again.”

“I thought she wanted it—”

“Oh, really?” he sneered. “That's why she nearly scratched your eyes out? Because she
wanted
you?”

Obviously not a stupid man, Foster realized he'd gone too far and quickly tried to backpedal. “No! I—I misunderstood. She said she c-cared about me, and I thought she m-meant…”

“That she wanted you to scare her to death?” Austin finished for him when he hesitated. “Is that how you show a woman you're attracted to her? By forcing yourself on her?”

They both knew that was exactly what he'd done, so there was nothing he could do but admit that he was totally and completely in the wrong. Pale and shaken, he swallowed and said hoarsely, “I screwed up. Okay? I never meant to scare her. I just lost my head.”

And because of his lack of control, Rebecca was the one who had suffered. And that suffering wouldn't end any time soon, Austin thought bitterly. This was not only a friend who had betrayed her, but her boss, a man she had to face and work with every day, whether she wanted to or not. And that sickened him.

His hands tightening ever so slightly on Foster, Austin leaned in close and glared at him nose to nose. “Any man who hurts a woman is a chicken-livered coward,” he said coldly. “You took advantage of your position as her boss and her friend, and you terrorized her. And I'd like to beat the hell out of you for that.”

His eyes huge behind the lenses of his glasses, he blanched. “I'll apologize. I swear I will.”

“No, what you're going to do is stay as far away from
her as your job allows,” he retorted. “When you do have to talk to her, you're going to be pleasant and keep your remarks impersonal. And if you ever lay a finger on her again, you're going to get another visit from me. Next time I won't be nearly as nice. Do I make myself understood?”

Foster nodded numbly. “Y-yes. Perfectly. There's no reason for another visit.”

Releasing him, Austin dusted his hands as if he'd just touched something distasteful. “Let's keep it that way.” Satisfied he'd made his point, he turned and walked back to his car.

 

The second Rebecca was alone, the silence of the apartment closed around her, and all she could hear was the echo of her own thoughts. And that was one place she was determined not to go. Her heart pounding, she rushed into the kitchen and began to pull everything out of her cabinets. For some time now she hadn't been happy with where she had things stored and had been thinking about rearranging the entire kitchen. Now was as good a time as any to get started.

Working furiously, she piled pots and pans and dishes on the table and counter, then turned her attention to unloading the shelves of the small pantry next to the refrigerator. Soon, the kitchen chairs were straining under their load, and by eleven, she had a true mess on her hands. But, she couldn't have been happier. It would take her hours to set everything straight again.

Humming one of the kiddie songs she'd heard at the pizza parlor, she took her time deciding where she wanted things and didn't look at the clock again. The next time she looked up, there was nothing left on the tabletop and
counters to put away, and it was nearly two o'clock in the morning.

For all of ten seconds, she seriously considered moving from the kitchen to the hall closet and starting the procedure all over again, but she was physically and emotionally exhausted. Flipping off the lights, she headed for her bedroom. It was time to go to bed. She'd put it off long enough.

She should have fallen asleep the second her head hit the pillow. She was certainly tired enough. Every bone in her body ached, and she just wanted to go to sleep and forget the whole day. Unfortunately, it wasn't that easy. The minute she turned off the lights and closed her eyes, Richard reached out of the darkness of her memory to grab her.

Her heart in her throat, she bolted upright in bed, gasping. “Oh, God!”

Shuddering, she couldn't have said how long she sat there, cursing her tears and the night and the stupid fear that wouldn't let her lie back down even though she knew she was perfectly safe. She wouldn't do this! she told herself fiercely. She wouldn't let another horrible man haunt her nights. Not again. She had to find a way to put it behind her.

When the phone rang suddenly, she nearly jumped out of her skin. Horrified, she stared at it in the darkness. Richard. It had to be Richard. Somehow he'd known she was thinking about him and what he'd done, and he'd decided to torture her for rejecting him by calling her in the middle of the night.