“It was wise of you to let him go,” he murmured. “I think if you had offered any objection at all, Dave actually would have put up a fight. That says quite a bit for the potency of your sex appeal, because Dave’s a very ambitious young man.”
“I know,” she murmured. He was sitting so close she could feel the waves of heat emanating from him while the scent of clean soap and a cologne that had a fresh spicy fragrance assaulted her nostrils. “He knows exactly where he’s going. I admire that about him.”
“Like-to-like?” he asked, his tone caustic. “I can see how an ambitious little lovely like you would feel a certain fellowship with Balding.” His eyes narrowed. “Did you know he’s married?”
Her eyes widened. “Of course! What difference does that make?”
He laughed mirthlessly. “None evidently. Not to you and certainly not to Balding after the vamping you did tonight. I don’t have to ask if you got what you wanted from him.”
“What I wanted from him?”
“The job,” he said impatiently. “Did he promise everything you wanted on a silver platter or was he waiting for you to deliver first?”
She stared up at him in bewilderment. “Yes, he gave me the job. I’ve already signed the contract.”
Joel’s lips tightened grimly. “Well, I’m afraid you’ll just have to renegotiate—especially the clause concerning fringe benefits. All those will be awarded to me from now on.” His expression softened as his hand smoothed her hair with featherlike strokes. “You won’t be disappointed. I wield a hell of a lot more power than Balding and I always keep my word.”
Fringe benefits? He wasn’t making sense, but it didn’t seem to matter as long as he continued to stroke her hair with that gossamer touch. How long had it been since she had felt so wondrously pampered? “Sorcerers always wield an enormous amount of power,” she said dreamily. She turned her head to rub her face on the hand stroking her hair. He really had lovely hands, strong and tan, with long graceful fingers that spoke of sensitivity and creativity. Beautiful hands that burned the soft smoothness of her cheek. “Your touch makes me feel so strange.”
Strange wasn’t the word for it, he thought wryly. He’d never even conceived of an emotion this powerful. Why the hell did she have such an effect on him, he wondered irritably. It wasn’t as if Kendra Michaels was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. Her figure was a little too curvaceous for current tastes, and her wide-set brown eyes were too large for the thinness of her face. Her lips were lovely, but they looked more vulnerable than sensual. Yet when she had run her little pink tongue over that full lower lip, he had felt a jolt of pure desire that had caused his loins to swell and his heart to pound crazily. It must be her gorgeous coloring that was so provocative. She was all rich, golden sheen from the clear olive skin to the auburn-burnished chestnut hair rippling down her back in gentle silken waves. An impatient scowl darkened his face as he remembered the insane burst of possessiveness that had exploded inside him when he had first caught sight of her. Mine, he’d thought with instant certainty. She’s going to be mine.
“Is it strange for you, too?” Kendra asked.
“Oh yes,” he muttered. “It’s like that with me too.” His hand wandered down to encircle her throat, his thumb pressing gently in the soft hollow. “I hadn’t the slightest doubt that it would be from the moment I first saw you.”
She was gazing up at him with the grave wonder of a child. “You’re angry, aren’t you?” she whispered. “I can feel it in you. Why are you so angry?”
“I’m not angry,” he denied quickly, knowing that he wasn’t telling the truth. There was a slow burning resentment deep inside him that was aimed more at himself than at her. The longer he was with her the more conscious he became of that loss of cool control. He shrugged. “Perhaps my emotions are a little confused at the moment. I can’t say that I like my reaction to any woman to be quite this violent.” His eyes narrowed on her face. “You are aware that this thing between us couldn’t possibly be termed ordinary.”
“Yes,” she answered absently, her gaze still on the well-defined curve of his lips. Those strange mesmerizing eyes had caused her to overlook how sensitive and beautifully shaped they were. “You have a lovely mouth; do you know that?” Her index finger reached up to trace the sensual line of his lower lip. It felt smooth and warm beneath the pad of her fingertip, and she knew again that breathless little tingle. His lips parted suddenly to capture her finger and for the briefest instant she felt the sharp nip of his teeth before he released it.
“The better to eat you with,” he said lightly. She could see that the pulse in the hollow of his throat was throbbing jerkily and there was a slight flush in the hollow of his cheeks. He slowly leaned forward until their lips were only a breath apart. “And eat you up is exactly what I intend to do, sweetheart. You’re a feast that would tempt the gods and I find I’m a very hungry man.” Each word was a tiny warm puff of breath that was a kiss in itself. “Hungrier than I’ve ever been before. I want to devour every bit of you.”
Hungry he might be, but when his lips finally closed on hers they were gentle, almost tentative. They brushed and moved against hers like a connoisseur who wanted to savor the delicacy of the bouquet before he permitted himself to taste the wine itself. And the giving and taking was intoxicating enough to Kendra that her breath caught in her throat.
“Delicious.” Joel’s voice was tremulous and his heavy lids half closed to veil the smoldering glint in his olive eyes. His hands tightened on her shoulders and he brought her closer with utmost care so that her chiffon-covered breasts were resting lightly against him. “But I think we both need a little more solid sustenance, don’t you, Kendra?” This time when his lips touched hers they were still gentle but firmer and the demand greater as the kiss progressed to a sweet sultry languor. “Give me your tongue, love,” he muttered, parting her lips to flowering fullness. “I want to taste you. I want to know the textures of you.”
She wanted to know that about him too, she thought dreamily. Suddenly it seemed the most vitally important thing in the world to learn everything she could about the exciting physical presence of Joel Damon. She gave him what he’d asked for and heard him utter a deep groan that sounded for all the world like the contented growl of a domesticated animal.
His lips closed on her tongue, using a gentle suction to draw it from her. Once her tongue was lured deep into his mouth, he began a leisurely exploration that caused her to press closer against him. With a little moan, she opened her lips wider. His tongue was searching, probing, touching, moving over the roughness of her tongue. She could tell that everything he found was wildly pleasing to him by the mad pounding of his heart against her own and the gasps of hunger and delight that broke from him when he paused for breath. The pauses were ever so brief before he plunged once more into the sensual pool of pleasure that was their joined mouths.
To have such an effect on him, to know that she could cause the sorcerer to tremble and groan with the same fiery magic that he was weaving in her gave Kendra a wild, primitive satisfaction. Her heady sense of power only served to increase the exhilaration she was experiencing. She broke away with a little breathless laugh, her face alight with delight. “It’s wonderful!” Her hands curved around his neck to thread through the hair at his nape. “It’s like flying; it’s like skydiving; it’s like…”
Her lips covered his with an eagerness that made his muscles harden against her softness. It was he who finally broke the hot, fluid contact. He lifted his head and drew in a deep breath as if his lungs were starved for oxygen.
“Well, no one could accuse you of being coy,” Joel said. His lips twisted wryly as he looked down into her eyes, sparkling like rich cognac. “Are you always this frank and straightforward?”
Her hands were running caressingly through his thick, dark hair. It felt as clean and vibrant as the rest of him. “I try to be,” she said vaguely. Her face clouded as she remembered that she hadn’t been
entirely honest tonight with either Dave or Skip. How could she have been when there was so much at stake? But she wouldn’t think of that now. It brought a return of the crushing heaviness that seemed to be always with her and that, miraculously, had lifted for the last few hours. “Sometimes it’s not so easy,” she said uncertainly. “But I like to think that I’m a fairly honest person.” Her face was as troubled as an open, innocent child. “Does it matter to you?”
He felt a sudden melting tenderness that was as poignant as it was unexpected. She looked so vulnerable and unhappy after her brief burst of joyous merriment that he felt a surge of fierce protectiveness, completely at odds with the desire wracking him. Immediately he experienced defensive anger. Dammit, what was the woman doing to him?
“Your honesty matters a hell of a lot,” he said at last and with soft menace. “You won’t find me very lenient if you ever decide that being honest with me is a little too ‘difficult’ for you, Kendra. I won’t tolerate you cheating on me. While we’re together, there won’t be any other men in your bed.” His lips curved in a mirthless smile as he gazed down at her bewildered face. His hand deliberately fell from her shoulders to the curve of her buttocks and brought her swiftly into the cradle of his hips so that she could feel the bold hardness of his arousal. His smile deepened at the gasp that she gave as her hands clenched spasmodically on his shoulders. “As you can see, I plan to keep you very occupied from now on.”
Then without waiting for her to reply, his mouth was once again on hers and this time there was no tentativeness and very little tenderness. His hot passion was so intense it was almost brutal. She made a soft moan of protest that was almost inaudible. He must have heard it, however, for abruptly the harshness ceased though the tenderness didn’t return. Instead, he practiced a skilled voluptuousness that wooed her into blind, submissive need. She writhed in his cupping hands like a wild thing. Her lips and tongue responded to him with a thirst that mirrored the hunger she felt in his tense, hard body.
He broke away and there was a look of grim satisfaction on his face as he took in the wild rose flush on her cheeks and the bruised softness of her lips. “You’re a very hot lady, Kendra Michaels,” he drawled, a flicker of triumph in his eyes. “Which is damn fortunate for me. If I’m going to be caught in this sweet little trap, I’ll be damned if you won’t be there with me.”
“Trap?”
“Never mind.” He was suddenly on his feet and lifting her from the bed. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” He picked up the chiffon wrap from where it had fallen on the bed and drew it carefully around her. Then he was grasping her by the wrist and pulling her toward the door.
“But where are we going?” she asked, startled. She was knocked totally off balance first by the most intense, sensual euphoria she’d ever experienced and now by this sudden about-face.
“If we stay here another five minutes, all those coats and capes are going to end up on the floor and we’re going to be between the sheets.” His lips tightened grimly. “And everyone downstairs will put two and two together and be trying to imagine just exactly what we’re doing to one another in that bed.” He shot her a dark glance. “Ordinarily, I wouldn’t give a damn, but for some reason I’m feeling as possessive as the devil about you. I won’t let those bastards run their thoughts over you any more than I will let their hands.” He paused at the door to take out his pristine white handkerchief and dab at her lips. “You’re a little mussed,” he said and smiled as his other hand tidied her hair. “Delightful, but too obvious all the same.”
He opened the door and propelled her down the corridor, his hand cupping her elbow with an impersonal courtesy.
“We’re going back to the party?” she asked, confused. They started down the stairs.
“No way,” he said, adroitly avoiding a couple standing on the bottom step. He gently guided her across the foyer to the front door. “We’re getting out of this zoo.”
She tried to push the shock and disappointment away. She didn’t want to go home. She had never known such magic. She wanted it to go on and on forever. “You’re taking me home?”
“In a manner of speaking,” he answered quietly, an enigmatic expression on his face. He opened the front door and allowed her to precede him. “Yes, we’re going home now, Kendra.”
TWO
“ILLUSION DE L’ARC en Ciel.” The headlights picked out the beautifully scripted engraving on the stone gatepost and Kendra repeated the words softly. “The Illusion of the Rainbow. What a strange name for a house.”
Joel raised an eyebrow quizzically as he pressed the button on the dashboard that electronically opened the iron gates. He had been silent since they left the house in Laurel Canyon. She hadn’t minded his quiet moodiness once she realized he had no intention of driving her to her apartment in Fullerton, but to some unknown destination of his own. She hadn’t been curious about that destination either. Content, she let her head loll on the plush silver gray headrest, while her eyes feasted on the sight outside the passenger window: the star-strewn, glittering blanket of the sky. Occasionally her gaze had roved to the dark, intent face of the man at the wheel.
“Illusion de l’Arc en Ciel,” Joel said. “So you know French.”
“Only a little,” she said as she watched him drive through the gates that slid silently closed behind them. “High school stuff. Why The Illusion of the Rainbow?”
He laughed with genuine amusement. “Do you know that’s the first question you’ve asked me since we left the house? You’re placing a remarkable amount of trust in a complete stranger. How do you know I’m not whisking you away to some isolated retreat for some S and M games?”
How ridiculous he was. Sorcerers didn’t have to resort to whips and bondage when they could have anything they wanted by exerting their potent magic. “I just do,” she said serenely. “Why The Illusion of the Rainbow?” she persisted.
He shrugged. “Why not? There’s nothing real about a rainbow. It’s a mirage, a dream: here for an instant and vanishing the next. All of life is like that if you think about it. Nothing is really stable enough to hold on to for more than a moment.” His lips curved in a curiously bittersweet smile. “So when I create something, anything that may become special to me, I build in a safety device to remind me of the evanescence of the rainbow. It saves me from foolish emotional involvement.”
What an incredible degree of weariness and vulnerability was contained in those few terse words. They pierced the clear golden bubble that surrounded her and the poignancy of feeling caused her throat to tighten achingly.
“And is this house special to you?” she asked gently. “I never heard about any other house of yours except the one in Laurel Canyon.”
“You might say it’s special,” he said with a wariness that sent a surge of maternal tenderness through her. “I needed a place to come to when I couldn’t stand all the phoniness anymore. I had the estate transported almost stone for stone from its site in France—Normandy to be precise—and then had it renovated to my specifications.” He shot a mocking glance at her. “It has a dungeon, but no torture chamber, I assure you.” His expression changed to total seriousness. “And no one knows about this house for the very good reason that I paid a small fortune in hush money to keep it that way. Even my secretary doesn’t know about Illusion de l’Arc en Ciel. I’d have reporters and sycophants crawling all over the place if there were a leak.” His voice deepened with intensity. “And this place is mine, dammit.”
The Mercedes abruptly swung around a curve in the road and Kendra caught her breath in surprise at the sight that met her eyes.
He’d called it an estate but it resembled more an old Norman Keep complete with drawbridge. Its ancient stone walls shone dull silver in the moonlight, and it was set among a thick grove of trees like a small elegant castle from another age should be. No, not elegant, she thought. The Keep was too primitive to be termed elegant. It was no fairy-tale palace but a fortress of tranquillity. A warr
ior’s last bastion of defense.
“It’s very…impressive,” she managed to say at last. It was more than that, she thought as they crossed the lowered drawbridge and passed into a little cobblestone courtyard. It was as revealing as a spotlight on the man behind that mocking sorcerer’s mask, and suddenly she wanted to know more, understand more about him than his physical magic that had so captivated her. “How long have you owned it?”
He got out of the car and came around to open the passenger door. “I first saw the Keep when I was a boy of seven. My mother and I were staying at a château a few kilometers away and I would run away and spend the entire day on the grounds whenever I got the chance.” He helped her out of the car. Slipping an arm around her waist, he propelled her toward an enormous oak door in a shadowy recess. “I suppose a real fortress had a certain fascination for a wild young hellion straight from the hothouse atmosphere of the proper château his mother dominated. I felt somehow that the Keep belonged to me. I took one look at it and I knew it was mine.” He opened the door with a key that was ridiculously tiny given the apparent size of the lock. One of Joel’s renovations, she thought hazily as he pushed open the door and fumbled at the wall. His voice echoed hollowly in the darkness. “It’s become something of an obsession with me. When I was a boy in school, I’d hoard my allowance until I had enough to buy the furnishings and little art objects that occasionally came on the market from the Keep.”
The enormous hall was suddenly illuminated by electric candles in the huge central chandelier. “About seven years ago, the Keep itself came on the market and I bought it and had it shipped over here and reassembled.”
“You waited a long time,” she murmured, her gaze going around the room with wondering eyes.
She could understand why Joel’s voice had echoed. The ceiling of the hall must have been fifty feet high and timbered in rich oak, as was the wide staircase that led to the balcony surrounding the second floor. The walls and floor were composed of the original smooth block stone and had a stark, brutal beauty that was softened by the richness of the cream and burgundy area rugs on the floor. A magnificent medieval tapestry graced the wall over a mammoth walk-in fireplace. The fireplace was large enough to roast an ox and probably had been used for just that in the distant past. She was jarred out of her appraisal by Joel’s hand on her elbow urging her toward the staircase.