Trust Me on This

  And the night was not over yet.

  He ran cold water in the sink and dropped his shirt in it. “You’ve got to get blood out fast or it stains. And then there’s the wine.” He turned off the water. “You know—out, out, damned spot. Now what shall we do while my shirt soaks?”

  She folded her arms and looked at him grimly.

  No go, he thought. Well, let’s lull her into a false sense of security.

  “Room service hot fudge sundaes.” Alec moved past her to the phone. “We didn’t get dessert.”

  Dennie watched him dial room service and then went back in the bathroom to scrub his shirt and think, leaving the door open so she could hear if he called anybody else. She listened to him order the sundaes, and then she soaped the stains on his shirt and let her mind run on with the idea she’d had in the elevator, the idea that had made her decide that bringing Alec back to the room was a good idea.

  Alec was not stupid but he was acting stupid.

  Victoria Prentice was not stupid but she was acting dumber than Alec.

  They were both fascinated with this Bondman creature who was clearly selling land they weren’t going to be able to develop.

  Therefore they were up to something. At the moment, Dennie didn’t care if it was legal or illegal; all she cared about was that it was a story. And she’d been on the inside of it and blown it by shooting off her big mouth.

  The only way she could get back in was by pumping Alec and his aunt. And by talking to Bondman.

  She rinsed the shirt again and then wrung it out. The stains were fainter but still there. Alec would have to send it to the cleaners.

  But first he’d have to talk with her.

  She came out of the bedroom just as the room service arrived, and smiled at Alec while he signed for the desserts.

  “This was a great idea,” she told him and took one of the sundaes. She sat on the edge of the bed and dipped her spoon into the whipped cream and licked it off, watching him flinch. That was another good thing about Alec: He was easy to turn on. Maybe she should seduce him for the information.

  Alec picked up his ice cream and ignored her, stretching out on the bed to watch the old TV movie he’d turned on while she’d been in the bathroom. He looked long and lanky, and his chest was broad and lightly furred in the lamplight, and he was infinitely desirable. She felt the room grow warmer and shifted a little on the bed.

  Maybe she shouldn’t seduce him. She should probably stick with things she could control. She licked hot fudge from her spoon, and Alec watched her again and clenched his teeth. Good. He was still distracted. She swung her legs up on the bed and stretched out. “You’re awfully quiet,” she told him around her hot fudge. “How’s your nose?”

  “It hurts,” he said, looking pathetic, probably hoping for sympathy.

  “Good. Think twice before you annoy me again.”

  “You’re a bully.” He scooped up some fudge and ice cream from his own sundae.

  She watched him wince again as he ate. Maybe that wasn’t from lust. Maybe it was from his almost-broken nose. “I am sorry if it really still hurts.”

  “How sorry are you?” He leered and wiggled his eyebrows.

  “Not that sorry.”

  He laughed. “I like you, Dennie Banks. You’re my kind of woman.”

  “Me and every other woman you meet,” she sniffed, but she felt a little sizzle go up her spine, just the same. Back to work, Banks. “Speaking of people you’ve met, where did you find Bondman?”

  “My aunt found him,” Alec said, his eyes back on the screen. “Actually, the guy she’s dating found him, and then the relationship spread.”

  “Do you really believe what he says?” Dennie asked, trying to keep the scorn out of her voice.

  “Do I think Washington is corrupt? Hell, yes.” Alec gestured at the screen. “They don’t make them like this anymore.”

  Dennie squinted at the TV. A guy in a white lab coat was talking to three other guys in suits, and they were all frowning with concern. “That’s because they made ten million of them back then. Monster picture, right?”

  “Do not trash an entire genre,” Alec said. “Monster movies have a long and honorable history.” A close-up of the guy in the lab coat showed him still looking disturbed. Evidently he had only one facial expression. “Of course, this probably isn’t one of the better examples,” Alec said finally. “But still …”

  Dennie put her half-finished sundae on the bedside table between them and leaned forward to see the screen better. “Is that Peter Cushing?”

  “Very good,” Alec said, and swapped his empty sundae glass for her half-full one.

  “Hey,” Dennie said, and Alec moved over to sit beside her on the bed, shoving her over with his hip.

  “You snooze, you lose.” Alec spooned up some more hot fudge. “You can still have some. Your spoon’s still in the dish.”

  It wasn’t the lack of a spoon that was causing Dennie problems, it was Alec’s proximity. The warmth from his kiss at the door last night came back, multiplied by how sweet he’d been kissing her in the lobby before dinner and bolstered by the fact that he was in the middle of a great story she wanted. He leaned next to her, half naked, warm wherever his body touched hers, and she vividly regretted giving up men. Actually, she’d had no trouble giving up other men, but giving up Alec, even though she’d never had him, that was a shame.

  “Did I ever tell you my fantasy about whipped cream?” Alec asked her as he ate the last of hers.

  Dennie’s pulse kicked up at the thought. “If I had any interest in your fantasies, they wouldn’t be fantasies,” she said as coldly as she could while her entire body heated.

  “That’s harsh.”

  “Fran Lebowitz said it first.”

  “Good for her. Can we get back to my fantasy now?”

  “No.” Dennie dipped her spoon in the hot fudge and licked it, which made her think of other things, which was bad. Change of subject. “What is this movie?”

  “Island of Terror. Science fiction from the sixties. A classic.”

  “You’re kidding.” Something moved on the TV screen, and Dennie gaped. “What is that?”

  Alec stretched to put the sundae dish down and on the way back he just happened to put his arm around her. Before she could say anything, he said, “That’s the alien life-form on the island. Haven’t you been watching?”

  Dennie leaned forward to see better and to keep herself from jumping him. “It looks like a big turtle.”

  “Their special effects budget must have been small,” Alec said charitably.

  Dennie looked skeptical. “That’s a special effect?”

  “For this movie, that’s a special effect. Now lean back and pay attention.” He tightened his hold on her, and she leaned back into him. This is a mistake, she thought, but if it was, it was at least going to be a mistake that felt great. “This is where the movie gets scary, and the aliens attack,” Alec went on. “You better hold on to me. Girls get scared easier than guys.”

  Dozens of turtles moved slowly across the beach, and Dennie began to laugh. The turtles were ridiculous, and Alec’s arm was solid and warm. Life was suddenly getting better.

  He held her close. “Hysterical from terror, huh?” He kissed her on the top of her head, and she thought dangerous thoughts.

  Remember the job, she told herself, and tilted her head back and smiled at him. “I’m still mad at you, but since I’m quite sure you’re going to set me up for breakfast tomorrow with your aunt, I might forgive you.”

  Alec looked disappointed but he coped. “Anything you want. Now pay attention to the movie.” He tightened his arm around her some more. “Hey, do I know how to show a girl a good time or what? We’ll have to come here often.”

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head, and her curls brushed his bare skin and made them both shiver. “This movie will be a tough one to top.”

  “Nonsense,” Alec said, his voice cracking a little. “Ther
e’s The Blob. Plan 9 from Outer Space. I Was a Teenage Werewolf. Dozens of classics.”

  “Oh, good.” Against all her better judgment, she nestled down next to him. “I’ll become a film connoisseur.”

  His arm tightened on her still more. “No, you won’t. This isn’t film. This is the movies.”

  The turtles advanced on the scientist’s daughter, who turned and ran screaming.

  Dennie tried to keep her attention on the movie. “Why is she running?”

  “Because the men in the audience are tired of looking at turtles.”

  “Ah. An artistic decision.” Dennie watched the turtles for a while, the least sexy thing in the room. “Actually, they kind of grow on you after a while,” she said, and looked up at him. “I don’t suppose there’s a hope in hell that they actually get the scientist’s daughter?”

  “None,” Alec said, and bent and kissed her while she was smiling up at him.

  She should have moved away at once, should have just slid away, but that would have been dumb, to move away from all that heat and to stop the shudder he’d started in her. His tongue tickled her lips, and she opened to him, and he made her shudder again as he eased her back onto the bed. She moved under him as he pulled her close, curling into him, clutching at him as his hands moved over her. He slid his hand to the top of her zipper, and she thought, Thank God, he’ll be touching me soon, and then the phone rang.

  “Ignore it,” Alec whispered thickly in her ear, but it rang again, just enough to remind Dennie that she had work to do. She had to find Bondman, she had to call Victoria to set up breakfast, she had to have Alec right now.…

  No.

  Dennie shoved him gently to one side and reached over him for the phone. “I told you,” she said, a little breathlessly. “Career first.”

  Alec fell back on the bed. “I hate women’s lib.”

  “Hello?” Dennie said.

  “Dennie, dear,” Victoria said. “Is Alec with you?”

  “Right here, Victoria.” Dennie turned to look at Alec beside her and regretting it instantly because he looked so good.

  “Thank you very much,” Alec called in the direction of the phone. “Hell of a time to call.”

  “Could I speak to him, dear? I’ve been calling his room for over an hour. Very frustrating.”

  “Believe me, I understand,” Dennie said, trying to think cool, non-Alec thoughts. “Oh, before I hand the phone over, do you think we could have breakfast tomorrow? I’d love to talk.…”

  “Well, I suppose—” Victoria began, sounding a little taken aback.

  Dennie moved in for the kill. “You can? Oh, that’s terrific. About ten in the Ivy Room? I can’t wait. Here’s Alec.”

  Dennie handed the phone over, and Alec sat up. “Hello, Aunt Vic,” he said. “Don’t ever call here again.”

  Dennie leaned closer and heard Victoria say, “Caught you in the middle of things, did I? Shame on you.”

  “How did you find me?” Alec pulled away a little, and Dennie took the hint and rolled off the bed. As she headed for the bathroom, she heard him say, “Better yet, why did you find me?”

  Dennie checked his shirt and stayed close to the bathroom door to eavesdrop. “You can forget the Prentice compound,” she heard him say. “Why would I want to live next door to you for the rest of my life? I’d never get laid again.”

  Then he listened for a while, and Dennie gave up and came out of the bathroom, holding his damp shirt and jacket.

  “Looks like that shouldn’t be a problem,” Alec was saying gloomily. “See you in fifteen, Bond at eleven.” He hung up and, as Dennie came toward him, said casually, “You know, many women manage to combine high-powered careers and great sex.”

  “Not this weekend,” Dennie said, dumping the clothes in his lap so that he winced when the cold, damp fabric hit his skin. Good. If he cooled off, maybe she would too.

  “Right,” he said and stood to go. “Let me know if you ever get to the top and decide to unwind.”

  She smiled up at him, really sorry they didn’t have time for each other and really glad he was leaving so her vision would clear and she’d stop breathing so heavily. “You’ll be the first to know,” she said.

  Harry knocked on Victoria’s door at ten-thirty. She answered it, still dressed from dinner.

  “Are you alone?” he hissed at her angrily.

  “Of course, I’m alone,” she whispered back, and pulled him into the room. “Alec will be here any min—” she began in her normal voice, but then Harry cut her off.

  “Who was the stiff?”

  “What stiff?”

  “The goon who wants to buy you a condo in the Keys,” Harry said, scowling at her. “Where did he come from?”

  “Connecticut,” Victoria said, puzzled. “I told you about him. He’s the one who got Bond for us. His name is Donald Compton. He teaches—”

  “How do you know he’s not in on the scam with Bond?” Harry began to pace. “Where did he come from?”

  “I told you. Connecticut. And I’ve known him for years.” Victoria watched him stomp up and down the room. “Will you stop it? There’s no problem. Donald’s such a fool, he fell for Bond on his own, that’s all. He’s good for us. Camouflage.”

  “What’s he buying you a condo for?” Harry stopped pacing and glared at her.

  Victoria glared back. “He’s not. He just thinks he is. It’s his idea for the week. Next week, he’ll want a ranch in Texas.”

  “With you on horseback.”

  “I don’t do horseback. What is this?”

  “Nothing,” Harry said. “Just stay away from him.”

  “Harry!” Victoria said, but then Alec knocked on the door and she went to let him in. Harry would just have to solve his own problems, which looked to her like simple jealousy. There was a ridiculous idea. She smiled at the thought, and then kicked herself for smiling, taking her exasperation at Harry and at herself out on Alec.

  “What are you so happy about?” Victoria asked him when he was with them by the table, all smiles. “You were wrong. That nice Dennie is not a crook. We’re having breakfast tomorrow.”

  “That’s what he’s so happy about,” Harry growled, still glowering at everyone, “and that’s because he’s not thinking. Did it ever occur to you,” he said to Alec, “that it might be a double play?”

  “Yes.” Alec’s smile faded. “But I dismissed the thought because it was low and suspicious of me.”

  “What’s a double play?” Victoria said, looking from one to the other. “Dennie tried to save me. I like her.”

  “Yes, and that makes you trust her,” Harry said in disgust. “And when you’re all pals, she says, ‘Oh, I know all about real estate, so I can get you a real deal.’ Then she and Bond walk off with your money. I can’t believe how gullible you two are.” He glanced at Victoria and then looked away. “At least, I can’t believe how gullible Alec is.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Victoria said.

  “Then why was she so anxious to meet you?” Harry asked. “She’s practically been stalking you. She wants to have breakfast with you. Why?”

  “Maybe because I’m fascinating?” Victoria said, exasperated.

  “No, that’s not it.” Harry turned away before she could say anything else. “We can’t trust her.” He narrowed his eyes at Alec. “You didn’t tell her anything, did you?”

  “No.” Alec sat on the edge of the table, feeling depressed again. “Which tells you how open and trusting I am.”

  “Good for you,” Harry said.

  “Shame on you,” Victoria said.

  “Forget her,” Harry said, “and concentrate on Bond. You’re going to be buying some real estate tomorrow. String him along for tonight. Tell him you need the night to think it over. Don’t move too fast—”

  “Harry, I’ve been doing this most of my adult life,” Alec said, glowering now himself. “This I know how to do.”

  “I still don’t believe Dennie is involved
in this,” Victoria said stubbornly.

  “I don’t know what I believe,” Alec said. “Except that it’s quarter to eleven, so I believe I’ll have another drink. In the bar with Bond.” He stood and bent to kiss Victoria’s cheek. “Sleep tight and don’t spill the beans at breakfast.”

  “There’s a hope,” Harry said, and she glared at them both as they went out the door.

  Men. Always assuming they knew what was best, always stomping around, always—

  She wanted Harry. The thought appeared from out of nowhere and totally screwed up her concentration. She was a rational adult woman, well past the age of making stupid mistakes involving sex. She was much too smart to get involved with anybody like Harry, especially since Harry seemed to loathe her because all he did was yell at her, but she didn’t believe that, either.

  Harry wanted her. She wanted Harry. Harry wasn’t going to do anything about it. So that left her.

  “Don’t be stupid,” she said out loud, and then wondered which would be stupider, trying to seduce Harry or deciding not to and spending the rest of her life wondering what would have happened if she’d had the guts to take the risk.

  If you’re not risking, you’re not living, Janice had said.

  The hell with it. “Here’s to life,” Victoria said, and picked up the phone to call room service.

  As soon as Alec left, Dennie splashed cold water on her face to get her thoughts back where they belonged and reapplied her makeup. Bondman would care about stuff like makeup, and he was definitely her next stop. If Alec wasn’t going to meet him until eleven, maybe he’d show up early in the bar and she could catch him, apologize, suggest they meet the next afternoon to talk. If she hadn’t totally screwed up with the crack about Al Gore, he’d go for it. He’d been scoping her out ever since she got to the hotel; he’d definitely go for it.

  The phone rang as she was heading out the door, and she stopped to get it in case it might be Alec. Not that Alec mattered.

  It was Taylor.

  “Dammit, I warned you, Banks,” he yelled, and Dennie sat down hard on the bed.