Notorious

  “Sabin, where—”

  “Here.” He stopped at the bench in the enclosed, filigreed arbor. “No one can see us here.” His hands were shaking as he began to unfasten her gown. “Though I don’t know if I’d care if they could.” He pushed the bodice of the gown down and gazed at her naked breasts, dappled with the moonlight drifting through the lacy filigreed panels of the enclosure. “Yes, I would.”

  His big hands cupped her breasts weighing them gently as his thumbs caressed the taut nipples. “Only for me.” His gaze lifted to her face. “For heaven’s sake, don’t tell me you want to go back to the house.”

  “No.” She swallowed to ease the tightness of her throat. Her breasts felt ripe and heavy in his palms, and fire was exploding through her bloodstream with her every breath. “Though we might as well go back unless you hurry.”

  He looked down at her in surprise and then laughed with boyish exuberance. “I’ll hurry.” His hands pushed down her gown, letting it fall to the ground. He began to unclothe her as quickly as possible. “If I can keep my hands from shaking.”

  Her hands were shaking, too, as she pushed the coat from his shoulders. “Let me help.”

  “We’d only get in each other’s way.” His voice was hoarse as he pulled off the last of her undergarments and tossed them aside. He took a step back and stood there looking at her. “Dear heaven, you’re beautiful.” He lifted her so that she was standing on the bench. “Stay there and let me look at you while I get rid of these clothes.”

  “I feel… awkward.” The bench was cold beneath her bare feet, but that was the only part of her that was chilled. She could feel Sabin’s gaze on her breasts, on the curls that encircled her womanhood as if they were a burning touch.

  “You don’t look awkward.” Sabin’s beautiful, rich voice came out of the darkness across the path. “You look like an exquisite statue that I’ve commissioned for my garden. But moonlight is too cold for you. We’ll come here tomorrow and see how you look in the sun.” He stepped forward from the shadows, and a ray of moonlight revealed the powerful muscularity of his nudity. There was nothing statuelike about Sabin, she thought. His masculinity was as earthy as his excitement and lust were palpable. His arms slid around her, and he buried his face in her abdomen, his warm tongue touching, tasting her flesh. “I’m hurting,” he whispered. “Help me, Mallory.”

  Her awkwardness and shyness melted away as tenderness spread through every atom of her being. “We’ll help each other.” She smiled lovingly as her arms went around his brawny shoulders.

  He lifted her and sat down on the bench, setting her astride his lap. “Yes.” He kissed her deeply as he slid her slowly onto his manhood, stretching, filling her. He groaned, his chest rising and falling with every breath. “We’ll … help … each—” He broke off as he began moving her, plunging upward in a fever of need.

  Madness, fullness, satiety, hunger.

  Sabin was the same, yet totally different. Or was it she who was different? No drugs dulled the pleasure he brought her with each movement, no reluctance marred her surrender.

  She found herself moaning, whimpering as the tension mounted to unbearable heights.

  “More.” Sabin muttered into her ear. “Talk to me. You like this?”

  “Yes.” Her nails dug into his shoulders. “But I can’t—” She gasped as he rotated his hips while holding her deeply captive. “Sabin!”

  “Never mind. I like to hear those little sounds better than words anyway.”

  He heard many of those cries in the next few minutes, and when the climax of feeling came she had to bite her lips to keep from screaming with pleasure.

  She collapsed against him, without breath, gasping, trembling.

  His hands caressed her bare back, soothing, petting her as he did when he held her in his arms during those long afternoon naps. However, there was nothing companionable or sexless in his stroking now. Blatant possession and sensuality imbued every touch. “Are you all right?” he asked in a low voice as soon as he could get his breath.

  She nodded jerkily, not lifting her head from his shoulder.

  He loosened her hair from its chignon, letting it flow down her back, his fingers tangled in the thick tresses.

  “Shouldn’t… I get off you?”

  “No.” He lifted her head and kissed her lingeringly. “We may spend every evening like this.”

  She shook her head.

  “You don’t like the idea.” He took two silky tresses and pulled them forward to wrap them around her nipples. “Isn’t that pretty?” He lowered his head, and his teeth gently tugged at one nipple.

  She felt a tingle of heat move through her. Dear heaven, she was beginning to want him again. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Go ahead.” He sucked delicately. “I’m listening.”

  “I can’t think when …” She pushed him away and stood up. She immediately felt vulnerable and alone, but that was better than the helpless desire he seemed capable of stirring in her. She picked up his tuxedo jacket from the bench across the path and slipped it on.

  “Now that you’ve removed temptation from my path, will you come back and let me hold you?”

  “Not right now.” She sat down on the bench across the path. “We have to understand each other. I didn’t say I’d become your mistress, Sabin.”

  He stiffened. “You said yes.”

  “I said yes to this.” Her gesture included both themselves and their situation. “I’m not about to become something I’m not, just because I find you sexually compatible.”

  “Compatible?” He laughed mirthlessly. “That’s a lukewarm word for what we share. Come back and let me demonstrate just how compatible we can be.”

  She clutched the jacket more tightly around her. “Very well, it was more than compatible, but I won’t let it change my life. I’ve had it with emotional roller coaster rides.”

  “You think you’re just going to walk away from me?”

  “No.” She moistened her lips with her tongue. “Not yet.”

  “When?”

  “Three months, if you’re agreeable to my terms.” She tried to keep her voice steady as she continued, “I think that’s fair since Carey says that’s the length of your usual affairs. The film company should be through here in Sedikhan by that time.”

  “You still intend to make the film?”

  “Of course, I’ll leave tomorrow for Marasef. I’ll be busy working, but we should have some time together if you’d like to come to Marasef occasionally.”

  She heard him mutter a curse under his breath. “I’m not accustomed to sharing, Mallory.”

  “Take it or leave it.”

  He was silent. “I have no intention of leaving you or letting you leave me,” he said softly. “So, you damn well know I’m going to accept your proposition.”

  She had hoped, but she hadn’t known. She desperately wanted something to remember when Sabin left her, even if it was only a few precious months. When he did leave her, she must have something to hold on to through the darkness to follow. Her work, her independence, her pride would remain intact if only he didn’t guess the truth she had discovered a moment before when he had taken her in his arms. “I hoped you’d agree, it was the wisest way to handle—”

  “I gave up wisdom along with that two hundred thousand dollars I paid for those tapes,” he interrupted harshly. “I don’t give a damn what’s sensible at the moment. Go to Marasef if you have to, but you can bet your life I’ll be there.” He stood up and crossed the path in two long steps. “But you’re not in Marasef tonight, and I intend to make the most of your undivided attention.” He slipped his coat from her shoulders and pulled her into his arms. “I trust you agree?”

  “I agree.” She closed her eyes as Sabin’s head lowered toward her. Perhaps it wasn’t the real thing, she thought desperately. Perhaps this wasn’t the same feeling her parents had for each other. Perhaps, like her affection for Ben, it would fade for her in three months’
time as it would for Sabin. She would be able to do this, she could strike a balance, Mallory told herself.

  And, since she was a good actress, if she was very careful, Sabin would never know she loved him.

  SIX

  THE DEW ON the petals of the spray of gardenias shimmered in the sunlight.

  Mallory raised herself on one elbow and reached out to gently touch the flower on the pillow next to her.

  “I know a red rose is traditional, but I’ve always thought roses were commonplace.” Sabin sat down on the bed beside her. He was already dressed in jeans and a loose white shirt, his brown hair water-darkened to a shade near black. “And you’re definitely not commonplace.”

  “I do like roses,” she said drowsily as she picked up the gardenias. “But these are exquisite.”

  “And so are you.” He lowered his head to brush her bare shoulder with his lips.

  She was surprised at the ripple of heated response his touch ignited in her. They had come together innumerable times during the night. Their lovemaking had been frantic, feverish, insatiable … leaving them exhausted and replete. Yet now as she looked at him, she felt the familiar quickening of her body.

  He lifted his head to look at her, a faint flush mantled his cheeks, his light eyes luminous. “The garden’s beautiful this morning. Why don’t we go and see how you look in the sunlight?”

  The color flew to her cheeks as she remembered how he had posed her on the bench last night. “It’s broad daylight, and someone might come.”

  “I could send them all away from the palace for the day.” He slowly pulled the sheet down to bare her to the waist, his gaze on her breasts. “Never mind, I’d never make it to the garden. We’ll go there later.”

  Mallory felt her nipples hardening beneath his stare and a hot tingling starting between her thighs. She drew a shaky breath and pulled the sheet back up to her chin. “We don’t have time. I have to leave. Marasef…”

  He became still. “You can go to Marasef tomorrow.”

  She slowly shook her head.

  His lips twisted. “You’re a hard lady.”

  “If I stay today, I’d only have to face leaving again tomorrow.”

  “You don’t have to leave at all,” he said with scarcely contained violence. “Dammit, this role isn’t going to make or break your career. Stay with me.”

  The temptation was nearly irresistible. She could stay here, and Sabin would give her protection and passion. The nights and days of love-making would surely bring them closer in mind as well as body. Perhaps she would be able to make Sabin love her as she did him. She opened her lips to tell him she would stay and then hesitated. But what if those days with her brought him only boredom, while she became even more hopelessly in love with him? She closed her mouth and again shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “I told you the reasons last night. Let’s not argue, Sabin.”

  “Why should we argue?” He stood up, his movements jerky and impatient. “After all, I’m getting what I want; three months in bed with Mallory Thane. Providing you can fit me into your schedule.” He strode toward the door. “Get dressed. I’ll arrange to have a car drive you to Marasef.”

  Mallory flinched as the door slammed behind him.

  Her emotions felt as raw and bleeding as if they had been put through a shredding machine. She had made the right decision, she told herself. The only way she was going to survive those three months was if she kept Sabin only on the periphery of her life. The sexual chemistry between them was too strong. Last night had proved to her that he could dominate her effortlessly in bed, and, if she remained at Kandrahan, they would probably spend a good portion of the next three months making love.

  No, it was only sensible for her to go back to the world that would still have a place for her when her relationship with Sabin was over.

  She threw back the sheet, jumped out of bed, and started toward the bathroom. The room was blurring before her eyes.

  What a pity that all the good sense in the world couldn’t keep the tears from stinging her eyes.

  “Hello, Omar.” Mallory smiled at the big man holding the car door as she settled herself on the backseat of the limousine beside Carey.

  “Kandrahan,” he pronounced with a sunny smile as he slammed the car door shut and started around the back of the car toward the driver’s seat.

  “No, Marasef.” Mallory turned to Carey. “Oh, dear, that language barrier again. We’re not going to be driving in circles and come back here are we?”

  Carey shook his head. “Sabin gave him his orders this morning. You’ll end up at the right place.” He paused. “If you’re sure Marasef is the right place for you. Sabin wasn’t overly pleased.”

  “I have my own life to live.” She looked straight ahead. “I won’t become some kind of harem girl for Sabin’s amusement. It’s going to be difficult enough starting my life over.”

  “Some women would say life with Sabin would be easier than starting off on your own again.”

  “Some people aren’t me,” Mallory said crisply. She changed the subject. “Where’s the location in Marasef?”

  “It’s at an old abandoned airport on the city’s outskirts. It was used by the allies in World War II. They’ve even managed to unearth some old bombers from the aviation scrap yards that are still flyable. Several buildings can be converted to sets, and there’s an officers’ club that they’re planning on using as the café. Some of the exterior shots will have to be done in the city but the rest—”

  “You didn’t say good-bye.”

  Sabin swung open the door of the car and looked inside at her. His gray-blue eyes were as steely as his tone. “Or perhaps you didn’t think I deserved that courtesy.”

  Mallory tensed and then forced her muscles to relax. “I thought we’d said our good-byes.” She smiled with an effort. “Besides, I’ll be seeing you in Marasef in a few days, won’t I?”

  “You’re damn right you will.” He stood looking at her for a moment. “Take care of her, Carey. Be sure the Global people know they’ll answer to me if they give her any trouble.”

  “No!” Mallory said sharply. “No more favors. From now on I’m on my own.”

  Sabin scowled and repeated, “Take care of her, Carey.” He slammed the door and motioned for Omar to start the engine before striding back into the palace.

  “In the middle again.” Carey grimaced. “I should be getting accustomed to the balancing act by now.”

  “No more favors.” Mallory enunciated each word as Omar drove out of the courtyard. “There’s going to be enough resentment leveled at me on the set. Favoritism by the owner of the company is hard to swallow by professionals who have worked their buns off to get their own roles.”

  “You’ve worked hard yourself.”

  “No favors.”

  “Okay,” Carey said reluctantly. “But when Sabin shows up on the set, you won’t get the same cooperation. He doesn’t believe in sitting back and letting someone else run the show when things aren’t going well.”

  Four hours later Mallory had to admit things definitely weren’t going well.

  “You can’t stay here,” Carey said positively as his gaze went over the interior of the tiny mobile home. Stained and chipped linoleum covered the floor, the furniture consisted of one dilapidated easy chair and a lumpy-looking couch that obviously did double duty as a bed. No kitchen, not even a hot plate, and the only lighting appeared to be provided by a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. “For Lord’s sake, it doesn’t even have air-conditioning. You’ll fry in this climate.”

  “These are the quarters I’ve been given. This is where I stay. It will be cooler in the evening.” Mallory wiped the perspiration from her nape with her handkerchief as she glanced at the stained walls of the shower in the tiny bathroom. “I hope.”

  “I’ll speak to the director. All the other mobile homes we saw on the grounds had air-conditioning units. There must be som
e mistake.”

  “No mistake.” Mallory smiled grimly. “They have to accept me, but they don’t have to make me comfortable. They’re probably hoping I’ll give up and go back to New York. Well, I’ll be damned if I’ll do it. Tell Omar to bring in my suitcases.”

  “Mallory, Sabin’s not—”

  “I can’t worry about what Sabin will like. Right now, my first priority is Peter Handel, the director.”

  “He’s responsible for this?”

  “Probably. The director’s responsible for everything once the cameras start rolling. He evidently doesn’t like the idea of having me pushed down his throat.”

  Carey gave a low whistle. “Then we may have a new director when Sabin arrives on the scene.”

  “Why? Handel is brilliant and can make the picture something pretty special. I’m going to like working with him.”

  “If he doesn’t eat you for breakfast.”

  “I’m going to see that he doesn’t.” She turned and ran down the three steps. “Stay here. I think I’ll have my first confrontation with him and get it over with.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  She shook her head. “They know you’re Sabin’s assistant, and it will make it worse for them to see you hovering over me.” She turned and smiled at him. “If you want to help, be here when I get back. I may need to see a friendly face. It looks like it’s going to be pretty chilly around here for the next few days.”

  “Not in this trailer,” Carey said dryly.

  “True.” Mallory waved and set off across the airfield toward the location where she had spotted Peter Handel lining up shots for his story-board when she and Carey had gone to see the location manager about her quarters. One could hardly miss the blaze of the director’s wild red-gold hair as he lounged high above the ground on the seat of a tall crane. She had never met Peter Handel, but she recognized the small, plump man from his pictures in the tabloids. He was only twenty-six, one of Hollywood’s wunderkinds, and looked like a curly-haired cherub in tennis shoes with his plump cheeks and round blue eyes. But the words coming through the megaphone, as he was swung back and forth across the sky, were far from angelic. Handel was obviously not in good temper.