Blackfoot Affair Part 20

"You're right," Jack said. "He did help me a lot. He was my roommate in college too. It was his wife you saw me with in the hotel dining room that night we..."

"Made fools of ourselves?" Marisa suggested.

He grinned. "You were jealous, weren't you? When you thought she was my date."

"I was not," Marisa said indignantly, snuggling into his side and sighing contentedly.

"Tell the truth."

"Maybe a little."

He chuckled.

"Aren't you pleased with yourself? That's exactly what you were trying to accomplish, right?"

"I was having dinner with a friend, give me a break!"

"You knew what I would think, and that's precisely what you wanted me to think. You could at least be honest about it."

He threw his head back and closed his eyes. "Oh, all right, all right. I was trying to make you jealous. Are you happy now?"

"Very childish of you, Jackson."

"Yes, I know. But effective. I knew you needed a little push in the right direction and I supplied it."

"You knew?"

"I hoped."

"That's better." Marisa rolled over and looked at the ceiling. "What are all those little caps up there?" she asked, pointing.

"Recessed lighting."

"Please. I may not be the editor of Architectural Digest, but I've seen recessed lighting. That's not it."

"I'm serious. You press one of those white b.u.t.tons over there on the wall and all the little caps open up, and lights emerge on aluminum stalks, like in a science fiction movie."

Marisa propped herself up on one elbow and looked at him, eyebrows raised.

"Try it," he said.

Marisa jumped up and ran to the panel he had indicated. She pressed the top b.u.t.ton and the floor length drapes swooshed closed across the gla.s.s doors.

"Wrong b.u.t.ton," Jack said from the couch, unnecessarily.

She pressed the second b.u.t.ton and a television set emerged from the wall next to the fireplace.

"It's the third one down on the left," Jack said, in a tone of exaggerated patience.

Marisa located the right b.u.t.ton and all the ceiling caps receded simultaneously with a low whirring sound.

"Look at that," she said in amazement. "Does your friend have an aversion to track lighting?"

"His father doesn't like to see lamps during the daytime when he doesn't need them."

"Eccentric millionaires," Marisa sighed. "What does the rest of this place look like?"

"I will be happy to provide a tour," Jack said, standing and throwing his arms wide.

Marisa scurried to fall into step beside him.

"On your right," he said, in the ringing tones of a museum guide, "you will find the s.p.a.ce age kitchen, complete with trash compactor, double stainless steel sink, and walk-in refrigerator."

"Who needs a walk-in refrigerator? Is somebody studying forensic medicine?"

"Don't interrupt the guide," Jack said.

"Sorry."

"Pantry," Jack said, gesturing with one hand, "and laundry room," he added, gesturing with the other.

"Very impressive."

Jack walked across the glazed tile floor to indicate the dining room, which featured a pegged pine floor, a dazzling art deco chandelier, and a hand knotted rug which looked as if it were loomed the day before it settled on the gleaming boards.

"Just a trifle nouveau riche, don't you think, Jackson?" Marisa asked, sniffing.

"I don't know about the nouveau, but definitely riche." He made a sweeping gesture toward the living room they had just vacated. "And you saw the rest in there, the matched skin couches and chairs, the Mexican marble c.o.c.ktail tables, the natural stone fireplace, the Jackson Pollock on the wall."

"I have only one question," Marisa said.

"Yes?"

"Where's the bedroom?"

He crooked his finger. "Follow me."

The open spiral staircase led to a second floor loft and a series of guest rooms down the hall. There was another fireplace on the exterior wall of the loft and a second deck overlooking the ocean.

"Nice digs," she commented.

"It's okay, if you like luxury," Jack replied.

The loft was furnished with a vintage Shaker set with a peg post king bed, bleached pine end tables and a standing armoire. The bathroom leading off it had a Jacuzzi tub and an oversized shower stall with a frosted gla.s.s enclosure.

"Come back here," Jack called, as Marisa disappeared through the door.

She came back and stood in the doorway.

"Let's see if this mattress works," he said.

She ran and jumped up on him, and they fell on top of the down comforter.

"What's this you're wearing?" he asked, tugging on her collar impatiently.

"It's called a blouse. You remember it, Jackson. You took it off me last night too."

He unb.u.t.toned it efficiently and threw it on the floor.

"So much for that," she said contentedly.

He disposed of the rest of her clothes in the same manner and then lay next to her, tracing the line of her hip with his forefinger.

"Is this a physical?" she said. "Should I have brought my insurance information?"

He bent and took her nipple in his mouth.

"I guess not," she sighed.

"I hope your doctor doesn't do this to you," he murmured, running his hand up the inside of her thigh.

Marisa put her arms around his neck and drew him on top of her, locking her legs around him.

"I'm going to say something to you that I've never said to another man," she whispered, licking the sh.e.l.l of his ear.

"What's that?"

"Take off your clothes.''

"You'll have to let me go."

"Just for a moment," she said.

He stood and stripped as she watched greedily, then dove back onto the bed, embracing her immediately.

"I think you're the most beautiful man I've ever seen," she said, arching her back as he ran a trail of kisses down her neck.

"That's not saying much. I'm the only man you've ever seen."

"I didn't mean naked, I meant... in general."

"How about in specific?" he said thickly, guiding her hand to enclose him.

"That, too," Marisa replied, caressing him.

He groaned and pressed her back into the bed.

"Now," she said urgently.

He obeyed.

Marisa saw Jack every day until the day before court hearings began again. On the morning that the case was due to resume she wore a pink dress with a shawl collar and paired it with navy shoes and purse. She was fastening her earrings when Tracy came through the door.

"You look so nice! Ain't love grand?" she said.

"I'm discovering that it is."

"Just remember whose side you're on," Tracy said warningly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Marisa asked, glancing at Tracy in the hotel mirror.

"Well, you might be affected by your feelings for Jack, don't you think?"

"I'm trying very hard to keep the two situations completely separate," Marisa replied.

"Good luck."

"Tracy, don't make this any more difficult for me. I'm nervous enough as it is," Marisa said, picking up her briefcase.

Tracy nodded, looking away.

"And send that file over to the clerk as soon as it's ready," Marisa added as she left.

Tracy looked after her thoughtfully but said nothing.

As soon as Marisa arrived in court that day she knew that something was wrong. Jack, seated at the NFN desk, would not meet her eyes. His whole demeanor was stiff and unyielding. Ben Brady, on the other hand, looked positively exuberant. Marisa took her seat, her heart pounding, wondering desperately what was happening.

"All rise," the clerk called as Judge Lasky made his entrance.

Marisa stared at Jack as the clerk announced the case and docket number.

"Mr. Brady?" Judge Lasky said, rattling papers on the bench.

"Your honor, I would pet.i.tion the court to grant a summary judgment for my client, the organization known as Natives for Nature."

Marisa stared at him, thunderstruck. What the h.e.l.l was this?

Lasky raised his brows wearily. "Mr. Brady, I warn you. This had better be good."

"Your honor, this past Friday, a representative from the Bureau of Indian Affairs, Department of the Interior, a Mr. Randall Block, attempted to bribe me."

There was a stir in the courtroom. Marisa stared at Jack's back, which was ramrod straight.

Lasky banged his gavel.