Heaven's Price Part 5

Unself-conscious of her attire but knowing she shouldn't cool down too quickly, she pulled on a s.h.i.+rt and tied the tail in a knot at her waist.

She left it unb.u.t.toned and rolled the sleeves to her elbows. She went into the kitchen to brew a pot of tea while the telephone company man told her that he was a student at NYU who was only working as an installer during the summer. He was majoring in marketing.

He was finished with the installation by the time the tea was brewed.

"Would you care for some tea?" she asked hospitably.

He hedged. "Got a c.o.ke?"

She laughed. "Coming up." She filled a gla.s.s with ice and c.o.ke and handed it to him. He drained it before taking a breath.

"Are you some kind of dancer?" he asked, looking down at her shoes.

"Yes. I dance professionally."

"No kiddin'! How about showing me a few steps?"

"How about you clearing out?"

Two surprised victims came under Sean's baleful gaze as they whipped their heads toward the deadly voice. The young man standing beside Blair swallowed a lump of fear.

"I . . . I was just about to go," he stuttered.

"Don't let us keep you."

The young man set the gla.s.s on the tabletop, but it fell over to send ice cubes scuttling across the varnished surface. Hastily he uprighted the gla.s.s, chunked the ice cubes back in it, and nervously dried his hand on his denim-clad thigh. He backed away to gather up his equipment.

Too angry to speak until now, Blair said to him, "Thank you for the telephone."

"You bet. If you have any trouble call me. .." He darted a cautious look in Sean's direction. "Call us," he amended. He squeezed past Sean's looming bulk and scampered down the stairs as though grateful to escape with his life. Sean slammed the door shut behind him.

Fists digging into her hips, Blair faced him down when he turned around. "Well I hope you're happy with yourself. You succeeded in bullying a perfectly harmless boy.

"Boy my a.s.s. And how do you know he was harmless? Didn't I warn you about letting strange men into this place while no one else is around?"

"My mother has warned me about that since I was six years old. I don't need you to keep harping on it. Besides he wasn't a strange man."

I knew he was from the telephone company. All I had to do was look at his big truck with the bright blue and yellow stripes down its side."

She was shouting at full voice, letting off some of the steam that had been collecting inside since he had insulted her with that torrid kiss the night before last.

His volume was no more monitored than hers. "If he were a sterling character, he could be tempted to fall from grace after seeing you.

Have you looked in a mirror? Or are you so used to prancing around like that, that you didn't realize what a come on it is?"

Truly perplexed, she glanced down at herself. Raising her eyes back to his she said loftily, "These happen to be my work clothes. And I wasn't prancing. I was doing some exercises when he arrived, and yes, I am accustomed to wearing leotards and tights."

"Of course you have no idea what those woolly things "

"Leg warmers."

". . . what those leg warmers do for your body," he finished sarcastically." It's pure coincidence that they come to just above your knees and draw attention to the top of your thighs. Not to mention that the legs of that leotard are cut up so high you might as well not have anything at all over your tight little rear. Oh, I'm sure our sweet boy didn't notice any of that when you opened your door to him dressed like that." As he talked, he made slow progress into the room until he stood within an arm's reach of her.

"As a matter of fact," she ground out, "I wasn't dressed like this when he came in." With frustrated fingers she worked at the knot at her waist until it fell free. "I didn't have this s.h.i.+rt on." She peeled off the s.h.i.+rt and flung it aside, baring to his livid eyes the deeply scooped neck and thin shoulder straps of her leotard.

His eyes riveted on her impertinent b.r.e.a.s.t.s that strained against the black cloth stretched over them like a second skin. His breath was vacuumed in sharply. Then his arm shot out and he clamped a hand around the base of her neck. He hauled her against him with a movement so swift and sudden that it drove the breath out of her body on impact.

Ineffectually she pummeled him with her fist as his mouth cemented with hers. His other arm went around her waist and he lifted her against him to carry her squirming, struggling form to the sofa. His knee sank into the cus.h.i.+ons as he lay her down and followed with his own body. One heavy leg lay across hers, pinning them down while his hands trapped her head and held it still for his kiss.

During it all, even while she writhed against him and fought with all her strength, he kept his promise. He didn't hurt her.

When she began to weaken, the pressure of his mouth decreased until he was sipping at her lips, laving them with his tongue. She whimpered her last protest and surrendered to her thirst. He didn't delay in spearing his tongue into her mouth and claiming it as his own. He cradled her cheek in one of his large palms while the other hand went undetained to her breast and fondled it reverently.

"I've become a jealous maniac, Blair," he said into her mouth. "I don't want any other man looking at you." His hand slid between her flesh and the elasticized leotard, pulling it down until her breast was free of its confinement.

"No," she groaned at his misplaced possessiveness. "You have no say . . . over who . .." Then she groaned for a different reason.

He'd be so disappointed. Dancers were characteristically flat chested and, "My G.o.d," he whispered.

The awesome tone of his voice forced her eyes to open. He was studying her with careful attention to detail. "What a gorgeous color you are, Blair. Delicate." His blond head rested against her chest. For a moment she thought she imagined the light caresses, until she felt the air cooling against the damp skin. Then all too keenly she felt the finessing of his tongue. "Delicate and so sweet," he murmured against her.

"No, no, Sean. Please . .."

"Why? Tell me why." His tongue caressed elusively until she was surrounded by the hot, honeyed trap of his mouth.

Her fingers plowed through the thick mane of his hair and held his head secure. He drew on her with a sweetness that made her want to weep.

"Because . . . because . . . there's no room in my . . . life for this.

I don't . .."

He levered himself above her to pierce her with his laser-beam eyes.

"You don't want anything or anybody to interfere with your career, is that it?"

"Yes," she said fiercely and didn't know if her desperation stemmed from her wanting him to accept that fact or from the withdrawal of his mouth from her breast.

"When your legs heal, you'll go back and nothing will stop you."

Yes.

"You don't want to build a life here."

"No."

"And you don't want anyone in your life. You don't want this?" He moved against her in a way that blatantly stated his meaning. The thin leotard and tights were no protection from his aroused s.e.x.

"No."

"You don't need it." He pressed himself against her more firmly.

"No," she sobbed.

"And you're a liar. You need me right now so badly that you're in pain."

His knee gently prized her legs apart and he lay atop her, gathering her under him as though to harbor her from any and all harm.

"You're aching, Blair. Let me heal you," he whispered pa.s.sionately.

Contrary to her protestations, her body adjusted to his with a silent entreaty and they clung together.

It was then they heard the rapid knocking on the door.

"Shhh," Sean hissed into her ear. "Please don't answer." He squeezed his eyes shut as though to block out the intrusion. His expression was agonized.

"Aunt Blair, it's me, Andrew," a high, piping voice called. "Aunt Blair, are you here?"

Breath filtered through his teeth in a long, low sigh. Slowly he eased away from her.

"Aunt Blair," "Coming, Andrew," she called shakily as she fumbled to raise the strap of her leotard. Her eyes refused to meet Sean's as she swung her legs off the couch and hurried to the door. "Hi!" she said with a false gaiety as she pulled open the door.

"Were you in the bathroom or something?" Andrew asked with childlike candor.

"Uh, no. S . . . Sean and I were trying out my new telephone.

Remind me to give you the number to give your mom."

At mention of his hero's name, Andrew's dark eyes swept the room.

"Hi, Sean," he said brightly and skirted past Blair into the room.

"Hi, there." Sean extended his palm and Andrew slapped it with his fingers.

"How did you get over here?" Blair asked.

"I walked," Andrew said proudly. "I know a shortcut. Mom sent me to tell both of you that she's having a party tonight. Well, it's not really a party, just some people coming over for steaks, ya know?

Anyway you're both supposed to come at eight o'clock. She said you could drive over together and save gas."

"Great," Sean said.

"I don't know," Blair said at the same time.

She could hug the boy in grat.i.tude that he had prevented something disastrous from happening. Whatever had possessed her to let things go so far? Sean's hands, his lips, had seduced her into a realm where she didn't even recognize herself. His touch was lethal and yet she responded to it each time, though vowing she would not. Her lack of control whenever he was around was frightening.

The first time he had kissed her, she had been shocked by the potency of his kiss and the overwhelming effect it had on her. The tantalizing power of his lips, the intrusion of his tongue into her mouth, had all been new to her. She had been kissed many times, yes, but never with such dominance. Always before she had remained detached, barely tolerant of the man who was slaking a desire she couldn't understand.

She understood now. For what had been inconceivable only a few days ago was now familiar. The nuances of Sean's mouth had become like an addiction to her. Knowing it was dangerous, even deadly, she craved more in increasing amounts and frequent doses. Each time he kissed her, he created a gnawing need that could well destroy her life's blueprint.

More alarming than her own physical susceptibility was his possessive att.i.tude toward her. Who had given him the right to watch over her, to say who she could and couldn't invite into her own apartment, what she should or shouldn't wear?

She had lived thirty years without his protection and she didn't think she'd need it for at least thirty more.

After the debacle of a few moments ago, spending the evening with him was out of the question. "I'm awfully tired, Andrew, my legs have been hurting this morning, and I'm sure I won't be missed."

Andrew turned to her, his eyes peering out from bangs in need of a trim. "You gotta come, Aunt Blair. Mom said she was giving the party to introduce you to people.

"Yeah, Blair, you gotta go," Sean added tauntingly.

She read the challenge in his eyes. His grin was salacious, daring.

If she backed out of the invitation, he would see it as cowardice and he would be absolutely right. She blessed him with a withering look.

"Okay, Andrew," she said through tight lips. "Tell your mom I'll be there."

"Super. She said Mandy and me could stay up until eight-thirty if we promised not to get in the way."

"Mandy and I," Sean corrected him. "Say, I could use a helper today.

I'm working on a house on the beach. Would you be interested in earning a dollar or two?"

"Gee, Sean, that'd be great!"

Sean smiled. "Go call your mom and tell her where you'll be. The back door is open. I'll meet you in the kitchen. We'll need a cooler of water on a hot day like today."

"Okay. See ya tonight, Aunt Blair," Andrew called as he dashed out the door and bounded down the stairs in his excitement.

As soon as the boy was out of earshot, Sean turned to Blair. "Are your legs really hurting?"

Prepared to light into him about his high-handedness with her, Blair was defeated once again by his gentleness. She shrugged indifferently.

"A little."

"Maybe you should call your doctor."

"No," she snapped. Then thinking that sounded too defensive, she said, "I didn't do much yesterday. I just need to work some kinks out with exercise."

"I think you should rest them."

"Well I didn't ask to hear what you think, did I ? And whatever you do think is of no interest to me."

"Isn't it?"

"No." Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s rose and fell with her growing irritation. She was furious with him for always being so d.a.m.nably right and furious with herself for always being on the defensive. "What happened here," she indicated the sofa with an impatient gesture, "was a mistake and won't be repeated. And it certainly doesn't give you license to pry into my life."

"I wasn't prying. I was only expressing concern."

"Well I don't need your concern."