Blackfoot Affair Part 7

"Oh, oh," Jack said, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "Is it my imagination or has the temperature in here dropped suddenly?"

"Please don't be glib. I don't think I could bear it," Marisa said, blinking rapidly. She was horrified to discover that she was on the verge of tears and turned away quickly so he wouldn't see.

Jack wasn't fooled. He took her by the shoulders and turned her around to face him.

"Hey, hey, what's all this?" he said, concerned.

"I'm... confused," she said, wiping at her eyes.

"I'm not," he said firmly. "I wanted you ten minutes ago and I want you now. What's the problem?"

She stared at him. "What's the problem?" she echoed. "Does the term 'conflict of interest' have any meaning for you?"

"That's an excuse," he said dismissively.

"I shouldn't even be talking to you outside the courtroom," she went on, "much less..." She trailed off unhappily.

"Much less what? Engaging in illicit s.e.xual activities?"

"Oh, you really are vile," Marisa said disgustedly.

"I see. What happens now? Do the lady lawyer police show up and cuff me to the headboard?"

"I think you should go."

"Just like that."

"Yes, just like that. What else is there to say?"

"You might say you enjoyed our night together, and what followed this morning," he said calmly.

Marisa maintained a stony silence, not meeting his eyes.

"Marisa, what do you expect?" he demanded. "I'm not going to apologize for finally doing what I've wanted to do from the first moment I saw you."

"I'm not asking for an apology," she said.

"Then what? For me to act like last night never happened?"

She met his angry gaze squarely.

"Oh no. I'm not going to play 'let's pretend' with you," he said, shaking his head. "Let's pretend that Marisa is a legal robot, let's pretend that Marisa is an innocent little virgin without an active hormone in her body..."

Marisa slapped him, and then stared at her hand as if it had taken on a life of its own.

"Great," he said tightly, the imprint of her fingers still on his cheek. "Thanks a lot." He picked up his jacket and brushed past her, reaching for the doork.n.o.b.

"Wait," she said miserably.

"For what? Another smack?"

"Don't forget to take your pills, you missed the dosage last night," she said inanely.

"You're crazy, do you know that?" he said, his back still to her. "You wallop me for telling you the truth and then you remind me to take my medicine?"

"I'm sorry I hit you," she whispered, her eyes swimming again.

He turned to face her, his jaw set. "Look, lady, I don't know why you can't admit it, but you want me. You want me as much as I want you, and the sooner you face that fact the happier we both will be." He yanked open the door and bolted through it, slamming it behind him.

Marisa collapsed on the bed, rubbing her eyes with her fingers. She could still see the imprint of Jack's head on the pillow next to hers.

It was several moments before she heard the insistent tapping coming from the next room.

"Marisa?" Tracy's voice said tinnily. "Are you all right?"

Marisa hid her face in the crook of her arm. Please G.o.d, she thought, no more. Then she got up and faced the inevitable.

Tracy was standing on the other side of the connecting door with her hands on her hips when Marisa opened it.

"Well?" Tracy said, waving the note Marisa left for her in the air. "What's going on?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Tracy said, peering over Marisa's shoulder. "I heard voices, a man's voice and yours. Who was here?"

"Jack Bluewolf."

"What a surprise," Tracy said sarcastically, moving into Marisa's room. "Is he the reason I got this little missive?"

Marisa was silent.

"He spent the night here?" Tracy asked, her voice rising into a little squeak.

"It's not what you think."

"Oh, of course not. You played board games all night."

"He had just gotten out of the hospital and he was a little shaky. He fell asleep on my bed and I didn't want to move him. He needed the rest. That's all there is to it."

"Not all, from the expression on your face, sweetie. You look sh.e.l.l-shocked."

"We had sort of a fight before he left."

"I heard. And why did he come here to see you straight from the hospital?"

"Well, we had sort of a misunderstanding when I visited him there," Marisa explained awkwardly.

"I see. You had sort of a misunderstanding then and sort of a fight this morning. You know what that means, don't you?"

"I'm losing my mind?" Marisa suggested feebly.

"s.e.xual frustration," Tracy said sagely.

"Oh, please." Marisa sat in the chair and contemplated her bare feet morosely.

"What, am I wrong? You're wildly attracted to him, aren't you? Why deny it?"

"I can't do anything about it, Tracy, you know the position I'm in! And he's so..."

"Aggressive?"

"Yes."

"Good for him," Tracy said firmly, and picked up the room service menu.

"Whose side are you on?"

"Yours, dearie. A man like this one is what you've needed for a long time."

"Counseling without a license again, Tracy?"

"What do you want for breakfast?" Tracy said, ignoring her.

"How can you think about food at a time like this?" Marisa demanded, outraged.

"A time like what?"

"I'm having a crisis here!"

"What's the crisis? You've finally met a man who can melt the icy reserve that's kept everybody else at a distance for as long as I've known you. More power to him. How about blueberry pancakes?"

"There's more, Tracy. He was trying to get me to admit how I felt this morning and I...uh...I slapped him."

"You!" Tracy hooted. "Miss Cool, Calm and Collected? I would have paid good money to see that."

"I'm not going to get involved with him."

"You're already involved with him."

"I don't have to make it any worse. Aside from the ethical considerations, he's a ladykiller. I don't want to be used and then tossed away like a facial tissue."

"Uh-huh. What's the real problem?"

Marisa blinked. "What do you mean? I just told you."

"What did he say that made you hit him?"

"I don't remember."

"Yes, you do."

"He said I was pretending to be an innocent little virgin."

Tracy burst out laughing.

"It's not funny."

"Don't you know that's the sort of thing men always say when they don't get their way? Forget it."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not pretending, I am one."

"One what?" Tracy said, still reading the menu.

"Haven't you got that thing memorized by now?" Marisa snapped. "Are you listening to me? I'm not pretending. I am a virgin."

She had Tracy's full attention now. "You're joking," Tracy said, gaping at her.

"I'm not."

"You must be the only twenty-seven-year-old virgin in captivity," Tracy said, awed.

"Twenty-eight," Marisa said mournfully.

"I can't believe it."

"He'll laugh at me," Marisa said quietly.

"Oh, honey, no," Tracy said, putting the menu aside. "Don't think that way. It just makes you special, that's all."

"Specially odd."

"Haven't you ever been in love?"

"I was always so busy, with school and then work," Marisa said lamely.

"But some men must have tried."

"Oh, sure, but they never seemed... I don't know. Wonderful enough, somehow."

"But this one is."

"He must be. I can't stop thinking about him and it's complicating this case no end."

"Well," Tracy said briskly, "you can't go on like this. You'd better deal with it, and fast."