No Red Roses

Nine

Promptly at eight the next morning she met Rex in the lobby of the hotel. He greeted her tersely and escorted her directly to the car, and they got underway immediately. By the look of the shadows under his eyes he'd had just as little sleep as she, she thought with fleeting satisfaction.

She herself had not gotten to sleep until almost dawn, but the restless night had accomplished one thing. It had formed a hard shell against the hurt and humiliation of Rex's desertion, and even produced a bit of anger to bolster the pride that had been submerged beneath her love and pain.

She carelessly tossed into the back seat the neatly folded, cream satin bundle she'd been carrying. "It's really a lovely robe," she said coolly. "It's a pity I had nothing else to wear or you could get your money back."

He glared at her furiously. "You know damn well I don't want that back," he grated between clenched teeth. "It belongs to you."

"Then you might as well give it to Goodwill," she said. "I certainly don't want to see it again."

He glowered at her. "I see you're in your usual sweet good humor. I'd suggest you temper that sarcasm a bit. I had a helluva night and you'll find I'm as testy as a bear with a sore tooth."

He had a bad night! "I can't tell you how sorry that makes me," she retorted in a saccharine tone of voice.

His hands tightened on the steering wheel, and he gave the appearance of counting silently. "Look, I'd really prefer not to pull the car over and break that lovely neck of yours," he said in a conversational tone. "So will you please shut up!"

She gave him a lethal glare and turned huffily away to stare blindly out the window. There was an icy silence for the remainder of the trip.

When they arrived at the apartment, Tamara stalked regally to the guest room and slammed the door decisively. She leaned wearily against it for a moment before walking stiffly to the center of the room and unzipping the crimson gown. It looked sadly garish in the bright morning sunlight. She wished she could just climb into that lovely, turquoise-covered bed and bury her head beneath the covers, as she'd done when something had upset her as a small child.

Sometimes it was a wearisome task to act the civilized adult and do what was expected. At the moment she wanted nothing less than to change and show up at breakfast with Jenny Jason. She had an idea those wise gray eyes saw far too much, and Tamara felt infinitely vulnerable this morning.

Well, she couldn't offend a hostess as gracious and friendly as Jenny. She stripped quickly, ducked in and out of the shower in minutes, brushed her teeth, and slipped on tailored navy slacks and an Anne Klein silk blouse with navy trim that looked vaguely nautical. She restrained her hair in a knot on the top of her head, and used a bit more makeup than usual to mask the violet shadows under her eyes.

Rex, Scotty, and Jenny Jason were already in the breakfast room when she arrived, and she slipped into the only vacant chair with a murmured, "Good morning."

Jenny smiled warmly. "You look fantastic in that outfit, Tamara. I wish I had your height. If I put on anything even faintly sailorish, I look like Popeye. Will you have coffee or hot chocolate?"

"Coffee, please," she answered, casting a wary glance at Brody and Oliver, who were engaged in a low-voiced exchange. She accepted the coffee Jenny handed her, added cream, and sipped the hot brew gingerly.

Jenny was gazing at her with eager silver eyes. "Look, Tamara, why don't you go with me to this Chamber of Commerce meeting? Then we can have lunch and maybe do some shopping later. I'd really like to get to know you better." She made a face at Rex. "He'll probably be rehearsing most of the afternoon, so it will be the perfect time."

"I'd like that," Tamara answered slowly. Not only would she like to get to know Jenny Jason, but the activity might keep her from brooding.

"Good!" Jenny said briskly. "Now let's get breakfast over with so we can get going." She gestured to the silver-covered trays on the table. "It's standard hotel fare, I'm afraid. When we moved to the ranch our cook, Mike Novacek, went with us." Her eyes twinkled. "He'd just married a Las Vegas showgirl and I think he was afraid to leave her here in temptation's way."

Oliver looked up abruptly, breaking off his conversation with Rex. "You received a letter yesterday in care of Rex," he said to Tamara, pulling an envelope out of his pocket. "I meant to give it to you, but I didn't get the chance."

"Thank you," Tamara said absently. "It must be from Aunt Elizabeth." But when she opened the envelope, there was an engraved invitation inside. A puzzled frown creased her brow and then she started to chuckle. "It's got to be some kind of joke," she murmured, shaking her head ruefully.

"What is it?" Jenny asked curiously, and even Rex looked up.

"I'm officially invited to be a guest of honor at a meeting of a witches' coven," Tamara said, grinning. "It's being held tonight at midnight in some ghost town by a local Las Vegas coven."

"How exciting!" Jenny exclaimed. "Which ghost town?"

Tamara looked down at the invitation. "Lucky Creek. What a peculiar name."

"I adore ghost towns," Jenny said dreamily. "We gave our first-anniversary party in a ghost town called Caleb's Gulch. It was a wonderful celebration, wasn't it, Rex?"

There was a glint of tenderness in Rex's eyes as he gazed at Jenny's glowing face. "It was a great party, mermaid. Steve really threw a wing-ding."

Tamara felt a twinge of envy at the gentleness in Rex's voice. It seemed a long time since she'd been the recipient of anything but scowls and sarcasm from him.

She put down the invitation. "Well, it's obviously someone's idea of a practical joke," she said carelessly. She helped herself to a piece of toast from a serving tray.

"I'm not so sure," Jenny said thoughtfully. "I read somewhere that there are really hundreds of covens all over the country. Some of them are the real thing and some just play at it for kicks."

"But why me?"

"Why, that newspaper story, of course," Jenny answered promptly. "They must have seen your picture and decided you'd be a star attraction at their little affair."

Rex muttered something under his breath that sounded like a shocking obscenity.

"What newspaper story?" Tamara asked carefully.

"Haven't you seen it? I picked up a copy at a drugstore in San Francisco yesterday. I usually don't buy those scandal sheets, but I saw Rex's name and thought I'd see what was up." Jenny pushed back her chair. "I'll go get it."

Tamara glared at Rex and Oliver, who both looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I gather this is no surprise to either of you?" she asked.

Oliver shook his head. "We saw it day before yesterday. Rex decided it would just upset you so we didn't show it to you."

"How considerate of Rex," she said between clenched teeth.

"The article was already on the streets and there was nothing anyone could do about it," Rex said, scowling. "Your seeing it would have accomplished nothing."

Jenny came hurrying back and handed the paper to Tamara before resuming her seat. "The picture is rather good of you," she said cheerfully. "Of course, the story itself is pure hogwash."

Tamara scanned the story hurriedly. "Oh no," she moaned. The scandal sheet had made her out to be a sort of benevolent white witch, casting spells and drawing up horoscopes. She read on hurriedly. They'd even brought in Aunt Elizabeth's psychic reputation in Somerset. How had they found out about that?

"I've got to phone Aunt Elizabeth," she said, scrambling to her feet.

"There's an extension in the hall," Jenny told her.

There was no answer at Aunt Elizabeth's, which only increased her worry. When she resumed her seat at the breakfast table, she distractedly pushed back her plate. "There's no answer," she said briefly, as she picked up her coffee cup. "I'll have to try later."

"There were just three lines in the article about your aunt, Tamara," Rex reminded her softly. The gentleness she'd yearned for was in his eyes, but she was in no mood for it now.

"There wouldn't have been anything at all if you hadn't given out that crazy story," she said, glaring at him. "If you've hurt Aunt Elizabeth, I'll murder you, Rex Brody!"

"You're jumping to conclusions," he said, frowning. "You don't know if she's even seen it yet."

Jenny looked from one belligerent face to another and hastily rose to her feet. "If you don't want any more breakfast, Tamara, why don't we get on our way?" She turned to Rex. "If I don't see you before I leave for the ranch, break a leg tonight."

"Thanks, Jenny," he said, kissing her on the cheek. He turned a flinty stare on Tamara. "I'll see you at dinner," he said commandingly.

Before Tamara could form a fittingly indignant answer to this arrogance, Jenny had whisked her from the room. Five minutes later they'd left the apartment and were on their way down to the car park and Jenny's cream-colored Mercedes.

The next few hours cemented a friendship between the two women. After the brief civic meeting, Jenny took Tamara to her favorite tearoom for lunch. They became so involved in exploring their mutual interests and backgrounds they never did make the proposed shopping expedition.

After their third cup of coffee, Jenny leaned back in her chair and made a confession in her usual frank manner. "You know, I was quite prepared to detest you when Rex called and asked permission to bring a guest with him to stay at the apartment. He'd never brought a woman with him before, and after I saw that story in the newspaper I was sure some vamp had gotten her claws into him." She grinned sheepishly. "Rex is very special to Steve and me. That's the real reason I came back early from San Francisco. I wanted to protect him from your evil wiles."

Tamara shook her head. "Rex is quite able to take care of himself from what I've seen," she said dryly.

Jenny lifted a skeptical brow. "Rex has a soft streak where his friends are concerned. He's fantastically loyal; he'd walk on hot coals to help a friend. I thought perhaps you'd managed to tap that core of loyalty."

"Well, you needn't worry. I'm not about to try to shear your little lamb," Tamara replied. On the contrary, she thought miserably, she was the one that had been left unhappy and vulnerable by their relationship to date.

"Oh, I knew that the minute I saw your face when you caught me in Rex's arms yesterday," Jenny said serenely. "I never saw anyone so shocked or heartbroken. I was quite relieved." Her eyes grew serious as she continued. "The real reason I wanted to get you alone was I wanted to explain something about Rex. I couldn't help but notice you were at each other's throats this morning, and I know the reason is none of my business." She looked down at her coffee thoughtfully. "Sometimes Rex can be very defensive. He had a childhood that would have permanently scarred most people-a mother who drank herself to death when he was thirteen, a father who deserted him and left him to fend for himself on the streets. His Aunt Margaret is the only one who ever displayed any family affection for him, and she didn't appear on the scene until after his father died when Rex was sixteen. It's a wonder that Rex lets anyone close to him. I just wanted to ask you to try to be patient with him."

Tamara's lips twisted wryly. "At the moment that request borders on the impossible."

Jenny sighed. "Well, I tried." She changed the subject briskly. "Are you going to Rex's opening show tonight?"

Tamara's lips tightened and her violet eyes clouded stormily as she remembered Rex's dictatorial demand that she join him for dinner. "I most certainly am not," she said tersely.

Jenny eyed her shrewdly. "Nor are you going to show up for dinner." It was a statement, not a question.

Tamara shook her head.

"I didn't think so," Jenny said, her eyes dancing. "Rex was a bit autocratic. May I suggest an alternate plan for the evening?"

"Be my guest," Tamara answered promptly. There was no way she wanted to be alone today. Between worrying about Aunt Elizabeth, and her depression and annoyance with Rex, she needed Jenny's cheerful presence as a bulwark.

Jenny's silver eyes were eager with excitement as she leaned forward. "Let's go to Lucky Creek tonight."

Tamara stared in surprise. "To that kooky witches' coven? But that was just a practical joke."

"But what if it wasn't?" Jenny asked excitedly. "Wouldn't you like to get a peek at a real witches' coven? And ghost towns are fascinating places, Tamara. That alone would be worth the drive."

Tamara frowned doubtfully. "I don't know if I like the idea of surprising a bunch of weirdos in a deserted ghost town."

"Oh, we wouldn't let them see us. We'd just take a peek at what was going on and then leave."

Why not? Maybe it would be interesting, and Tamara couldn't find it in her heart to disappoint Jenny. The other woman's face was as radiant as that of a child expecting a birthday treat.

"What time do you think we should leave?" she asked indulgently.

"First we'll go back to the apartment and check the location of Lucky Creek and see how far it is,"

Jenny said briskly. "Steve gave me a map that lists all of Nevada's ghost towns."

The following hours flew by on wings supplied by one Jenny Jason, who proved a dynamo of activity. After discovering to her pleased surprise that Lucky Creek was only about fifteen miles from her ranch, she'd insisted on Tamara leaving with her immediately for her home and spending the evening there before they began their witch hunt. After Tamara complied with Jenny's imperious order that she change to jeans and a black shirt for their midnight jaunt, they set out for Jenny's ranch.

The Jason ranch house was a gem of a Spanish hacienda with a rambling white stucco facade. Exquisite wrought iron grillwork fronted the windows and there was a beautiful courtyard, complete with a graceful fountain. The interior was just as lovely, furnished in beauty and comfort, but still retaining a warm, glowing hominess. Or perhaps the glow was provided by Jenny and the inhabitants of the gracious hacienda, Tamara thought, with a touch of wistfulness.

That evening she enjoyed a magnificent meal provided by Jenny's cook, Mike Novacek, who seemed to be more family than employee. She even met Mike's wife, Connie, a sandy-haired beauty with a superb figure and the warmth and gentleness that seemed to be inherent in the people living in this wonderful house. Connie was acting as nanny for Jenny's son, Sean, and was utterly besotted with the two-year-old pixie. Tamara could readily see why when she met the young heir. His golden hair, silver eyes, and smile that would melt an iceberg made her his immediate slave.

It was eleven-thirty when Tamara and Jenny left the ranch and almost midnight before they reached the outskirts of Lucky Creek. Tamara's apprehension had been growing by leaps and bounds during the drive.

As Jenny parked the Mercedes in a grove of cotton- woods a little distance from the town itself, Tamara ventured a tentative comment. "It looks deserted. Perhaps it was just a practical joke after all."

Jenny shook her head, her silver eyes shining with excitement as they searched the deserted streets and ramshackle wooden buildings for signs of life. "I'm sure it was legitimate. Don't be discouraged. A coven wouldn't exactly advertise its presence. It's not their style. We'll just have to do some reconnoitering until we find where they're meeting." She quickly jumped out of the car and set off briskly toward the main street of the ghost town.

Tamara followed more slowly, a wry smile curving her lips. Discouraged! She would have liked nothing better than to give up this little adventure and was fervently berating herself for the impulse that had led her to give in to Jenny's persuasions. This desolate and deserted place filled her with a nameless uneasiness. The dark, gaping windows seemed to be watching them as they made their way down the overgrown, rutted main street, and there was an odd aura of something waiting beyond those dark windows and boarded-up doors.

Tamara shivered uncontrollably, and Jenny glanced at her curiously. "Are you cold?" she asked. "Perhaps you'd better go back to the car and get a jacket. There's no telling how long it will take to run down our hosts at this little clambake." Jenny seemed to feel none of the chilling emanations that were plaguing Tamara, and her voice was cheerful.

Tamara shook her head and made an effort to shrug off the cold lethargy that was beginning to invade her. "I'm fine," she said lightly. "Perhaps a goose walked over my grave." She made a face. "Speaking of graveyards, this has got to be the spookiest place it's ever been my misfortune to encounter. I can't understand your fascination with ghost towns, I'm sorry to say."

"Do you find it frightening?" Jenny asked, her eyes widening in surprise. "I think these old towns are just wonderful." She gazed around with infinite satisfaction. "They have such a lovely, nostalgic atmosphere."

"I guess I'm becoming a bit imaginative," Tamara said, her violet eyes twinkling. "It goes with the territory when you've lived all your life with a psychic like Aunt Elizabeth."

They'd come almost to the end of the street without seeing any signs of life, much to Tamara's fervent relief. Perhaps a little further search and she could persuade Jenny to return to the car and leave this weird place.

"There it is!" Jenny clutched her arm suddenly and pointed to a building on their left with a broken seesaw in the front yard.

"But that's a schoolhouse," Tamara protested, with an obscure sense of shock. "And it seems as deserted as all the other buildings."

"It was a schoolhouse," Jenny whispered, her voice tense with excitement. "But that was over a hundred years ago. It would be ideal as a meeting place for any large group. Besides, I'm sure I saw a flicker of light at that right front window. Come on, let's see if we can get closer."

She was already moving silently toward the window and Tamara reluctantly followed her. The window was almost completely covered by a thick layer of dust and for a moment Tamara could see nothing. Then, with a chill chasing down her spine, she saw the flickering lights Jenny had mentioned.

"They must have candles," Jenny whispered in her ear. "Can you hear anything they're saying?"

Tamara shook her head. The barely distinguishable figures in the room were curiously shapeless and their voices almost entirely inaudible.

Suddenly the door opened and a large, black-robed figure stepped outside, not ten feet from where Jenny and Tamara crouched. Her heart suddenly pounding in her breast, Tamara groped for Jenny's hand and began pulling her away. Despite her earlier excitement, Jenny showed no reluctance to leave now.

The figure had turned slightly so that his back was partially to them, and Tamara and Jenny hurried down the street as quietly as they could. By the time they could see the glimmer of the shiny, cream- colored Mercedes, they were practically running. Tamara fully expected to hear the sounds of pursuit behind them any second.

Jenny reached the driver's side of the car several yards ahead of her, and fumbled at the door while Tamara tore around the hood of the car to the passenger door.

"Ugh!" The pained masculine grunt as she rammed full steam into a hard male body sent her into a panic. Instinctively, she knotted her fist and punched with all her strength. The man's torso was iron hard, but she must have hurt him for he staggered against the side of the car. She had only a moment to feel a sense of smug satisfaction before he straightened, grabbed her by both arms, and shook her until her head flopped like a rag doll.

"You damn little idiot, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Rex?" she gasped unbelievingly, but there was time for no more.

They suddenly heard a shout coming from the direction of the schoolhouse. Tamara looked over her shoulder to see a number of dark figures with flickering candles, moving down the main street in their direction.

Rex swore violently and tugged open the passenger door. "Take off, Jenny," he said sharply. "I'll bring Tamara in my Ferrari. We'll meet you at the turnoff for the ranch." He slammed the door and the Mercedes took off like a Grand Prix contender.

Rex grabbed Tamara's arm and urged her into a dead run to where the yellow Ferrari was parked by the road. She could hear him cursing steadily under his breath all the way to the car, and he almost pushed her into the passenger seat before jumping in the driver's side and taking off with a screech of tires. They nearly went off the road as he made a U-turn and took off after the Mercedes.

Tamara looked back over her shoulder and her breath caught as she saw that their pursuers had reached the spot where the Ferrari had been parked just a moment before. Then the shadowy figures disappeared as the car clocked over ninety miles an hour.

With a sigh of relief she sat back in her seat. "I can't see them any more."

"We're not home free yet," Rex said coolly. "They might decide to get their cars and chase after us,"

"Do you think they will?" Tamara asked anxiously, biting her lip. The last twenty minutes had been a nightmare. Now all she wanted to do was wake up into the bright daylight of sanity.

He shrugged. "Time will tell." His foot pressed down on the accelerator and the sports car's speed increased.

They were right behind Jenny when she pulled over to the side of the road at the turnoff for the ranch. Rex halted the Ferrari and opened his door. "Stay here!" he ordered.

He crossed to Jenny's car and spoke to her for a moment, then returned to the Ferrari. Jenny's Mercedes had already made the turn and was speeding in the direction of the ranch when Rex put his car in gear and drove back onto the road, heading in the direction of Las Vegas.

"Aren't we going to the ranch with Jenny?" Tamara asked, startled.

"No, we are not," Rex said emphatically. "I told Jenny we'd phone her from the apartment." He drew a deep breath. "Now please shut up and let me cool down. I'm on the brink of shaking you until your teeth rattle."

Tamara was about to remind him angrily that he already had when she glanced at his expression, illuminated dimly by the dashboard lights, and decided to hold her tongue. She'd never seen him so angry. His face was hard and taut with rage. There was a tiny muscle jerking in his jaw, and the dark eyes were positively blazing. She noticed he was wearing the white shirt and dark suede pants in which he usually performed. He must have left directly after the show without even stopping to change.

It was the first time since the night she'd met him that he'd shown her the tough ruthlessness beneath his easy charm; she had to admit to herself she was a little intimidated. The rest of the drive was made in silence that made Tamara distinctly uneasy.

When they entered the apartment, Rex said curtly, "Go into the living room. I’ll join you after I call Jenny."

Tamara wandered into the luxurious, white-carpeted room and strolled to the bar at its far end. She was trying to decide if she really wanted anything to drink when Rex strode in. He didn't share her indecisiveness. He stalked immediately to the bar and poured himself a double.

"Is Jenny okay?" Tamara asked hesitantly. The cooling-off period Rex had mentioned evidently hadn't succeeded in improving his temper. It was clear it was still at a white-hot pitch.

He drank half the whiskey down in one swallow. "Jenny is always all right," he said, with a grimace. "It's everybody around her who goes through hell."

"That's not fair!" Tamara retorted defensively. "How did we know there would be trouble at Lucky Creek tonight? We were just going to look around a bit and then get out before anyone saw us."

He crashed his glass down on the bar. "You wandered blindly into a deserted ghost town at midnight, not knowing what creeps or weirdos you might run into! What kind of wide-eyed idiots are you?" His mouth tightened. "Or perhaps you did it deliberately. You were mad as hell with me at breakfast. Was your little jaunt a ruse to worry me half out of my mind?"

"No!" Tamara cried, shocked. "I was angry at you, but I only wanted to get away for a little while. I never intended any of this to happen. How did you know where we'd gone?"

"Elementary, my dear Watson," Rex quoted caustically. "When you didn't show at the apartment for dinner, I just thought you were still upset. It wasn't until you missed the show that I began to get worried. I went back to the apartment to look for a note and after rummaging around, I found Jenny's ghost- town map." He took another long swallow of whiskey. "You'll be pleased to know that you scared the hell out of me. You see, I'd had Scotty check out that group with the local authorities in case they tried to make a nuisance of themselves. It seems they're not a legitimate coven at all. Most of them are affluent jet-setter types out to get a few kinky thrills by having their orgies and cocaine parties under the guise of a satanic cult." He looked up, his dark gaze stabbing into her. "Do I have to tell you what they had in mind for you when they sent that invitation?"

"No," she said, feeling suddenly a little sick. Rex was right. She and Jenny had been insane to take such a terrible risk. It had all seemed so safe and amusing when Jenny had suggested it, but now she wondered how she could have been so abysmally naive.

"Then the climax to the entire lousy evening," Rex continued silkily. "After driving hell for leather through the desert to rescue you, I arrive at the scene only to be knocked breathless by you when you run into me. To add insult to injury, you then give me a punch to the solar plexus that just about put me out of commission!"

"Oh!" Tamara guiltily covered her lips with her hand. "I forgot about that," she said in a small voice. "I'm very sorry."

"I suppose I really should be grateful for small favors," he said. He strolled leisurely around the bar to stand before her, legs spread apart and arms folded across his chest. She'd thought when she'd first seen him in that outfit that he looked like a buccaneer. The effect was doubly intensified now by the aura of danger surrounding him. "You haven't even thanked me for that marvelous getaway."

She smiled slightly. "Thank you, Rex," she said obediently.

"You're welcome," he said tersely. He grabbed her wrist, turned, and strode across the living room, dragging her behind him.

"Wait! Where are we going?" she asked as she hurried to keep up with him.

"I'm going to let you prove how grateful you are," he said curtly as he threw open her bedroom door. "But first I'm going to put you in the shower. I make it a practice never to take to bed a woman who looks like she's been cleaning chimneys." He ran a finger down her cheek and held it up to show her the dust on it.

"It must have been when I was looking in the window of the schoolhouse," she muttered absently. Then the entire meaning of his sentence sank in. "What do you mean you're taking me to bed?" she exclaimed. "What about the commitment? What about the responsibility?"

"To hell with the responsibility," he said as he pulled her into the adjoining bathroom. "Anyone with a wicked body punch like yours can damn well take care of herself!"

He started the shower, then turned back to her. She stared at him bemusedly while he impersonally unbuttoned her black shirt and undid the front catch of her bra. He next unfastened the band that held her hair in place and the silky, dark mane tumbled over her shoulders. She was suddenly poignantly aware of the overpowering warmth and hardness of him in the confines of the bathroom. She could feel her heartbeat accelerate as he stripped her of the shirt and bra as if she were a lifeless mannequin. His face was closed and expressionless and suddenly she couldn't bear it.

His hands were on the waistband of her jeans now, and she reached out to stop him. He looked up, a frown crossing his face.

"Rex, I'll do anything you like," she said quietly, "but please, not in anger."

His face remained expressionless as he gazed into her pleading eyes. "That's up to you," he said coolly. "Persuade me."

She felt a sense of shock at the bold words, and for a moment she didn't know how to comply with his demand. Then her hands hesitantly went to his shirt and slowly started to unbutton it.

"I think you need a shower too," she said huskily. She unbuttoned the last button and took a step closer to ease it over his brawny shoulders. Her aroused nipples teased him as she worked the shirt with painstaking slowness down his arms. She heard his sharply indrawn breath and watched with mounting excitement the leaping pulse in the hollow of his bronze throat. She was suddenly enjoying this. She stepped back and swiftly stripped off her jeans and the tiny bikini panties beneath. She stepped under the shower and let the water cascade over her, but she didn't close the frosted shower door.

Rex stood staring at her as if mesmerized as the flowing water turned her hair into a glossy seal-like cap and pearled in iridescent drops on her shoulders and breasts. "Lord!" The cry broke from him with guttural violence. His face was no longer expressionless but flushed and taut with need. It took only seconds for him to shed the rest of his clothes and join her under the spray, closing the shower door after him. The narrow confines of the stall forced them in breathlessly close proximity and suddenly Tamara's boldness vanished as if it had never been.

She looked up, her eyes wide and hesitant, and met his almost blindingly intense gaze. "Rex?" She didn't know what she was entreating, but whatever it was she knew it must come from him. Everything must come from him. She stepped closer and slipped her arms about his waist and buried her face in the rough dark hair on his chest.

Suddenly she heard a rumbling chuckle beneath her ear, and his arms slid lovingly around her and pulled her to him, branding her with his hard need. "Damn it, sweetheart," he said wryly, as he wound one hand in her hair. "I stepped into this shower stall expecting to be seduced by a violet-eyed Lilith and I find a young Juliet in my arms."

She hugged him closer, relieved at the thread of tenderness running through the words. "Give a girl a chance," she said huskily. "I'm a fast learner. I only need practice."

He tilted her head back and kissed her lingeringly, his tongue licking teasingly at the drops of water beading her lips. "I intend to give you plenty of that," he said thickly. His warm tongue lazily stroked the pulse point in her throat before moving down to tease her pink-crested breasts with quickening intensity.

Then he was sliding down her body to kneel before her. "Open for me, sweetheart," he ordered hoarsely, his hands gently prying her thighs apart. "I want to come in." One hand reached behind her to cup her buttocks while the other crept between her thighs.

He pressed his head to her belly, rubbing it in a nestling motion against her softness. She gave a low moan that was more of a gasp as he began a slow teasing stroking that set her afire. It was incredibly arousing, standing there with the warm, sensuous water cascading over her breasts like gentle caressing hands, while Rex's own hands were doing these fantastic things to her lower body.

His lips were nibbling softly at her belly now, his tongue stroking her navel teasingly while his fingers kept up that torrid rhythm that was causing her to arch against him in a fever of need.

"You're dewing for me again, babe. I can feel it." He kissed her belly softly. "Lord, I'd love to see it." He chuckled. "But I don't think I'd better right now. I'm about ready to explode just from touching you."

Then he was on his feet, both hands cupping her buttocks and lifting her to his loins. She gave a strangled cry as he rubbed her with a slow, teasing rhythm against his iron-hard arousal, before clutching her to him so tightly that she gave an involuntary moan.

"Sorry, love," he gasped. His arms were shaking as he carefully put her down and pushed her away from him. "We'd better get out of here before I start demonstrating a few of the more advanced positions in the Kama Sutra. You haven't even tried the basic ones yet!"

He briskly opened the shower door and whisked her out, enveloping her in a huge, white, bath towel and rubbing the rough terry cloth over her with swift, gentle hands. When she would have taken up another towel to return the favor, he shook his head ruefully, and said, "Best not, babe!" He dried himself quickly and then, picking her up with the eager boldness of a corsair claiming his plunder, carried her to the bed.

In the hours that followed, Tamara at last understood her aunt's odd remark regarding the music in Rex Brody. Every movement was a symphony as he built her responses to a feverish pitch of mindless need. His lips brushing teasing butterfly kisses on her throat and shoulders was a delicate pianissimo of sensation, his gentle nibbling on her swelling breasts and inner thighs was crescendo. And then he parted her legs to enter her and show her the mind-shattering ecstasy of the final fortissimo.

Even later, as he held her tenderly against him, cradling her still damp head in the hard hollow of his shoulder, she felt the gentle, golden notes of a passionate contentment.

"Was it really good for you, babe?" Rex's words, rumbling beneath her ear, surprised her out of her euphoric bemusement.

"You know it was.” She sighed happily. "You must be one helluva lover, Rex Brody." Her index finger idly traced patterns in the springy dark hair on his chest. "Of course, I'm really too much of an amateur to judge."

"Nonsense!" He chuckled. "Your opinion is probably much more valid because you haven't had other samplings to confuse you! But you're quite right, I am a fantastic lover."

She looked up, knowing she would see those midnight eyes dancing with mischief. "Was it as good for you?" she asked uncertainly, suddenly worried that she'd been so bedazzled by her own pleasure she'd imagined his insatiable response.

His eyes were suspiciously bright as he looked down at her face. "Oh, babe," he said huskily. His hand lovingly traced the smooth line of her cheek. "Oh, dear heaven, babe!" And somehow his very inarticulateness was most satisfying.

Rex drew the covers up about them and then laid her head on the pillow, bending over with his arms on each side of her. His dark eyes flickering, he said hoarsely, "Rest for a bit, sweetheart. It's going to be a long athletic night." A glint of mischief appeared as he added, "And then we just might take another shower!"