An Act of Love (30 page)

"That was Sean Raley," he informed her, looking at her as
though she were somehow responsible for the unwanted call. "He sends
his best wishes."

Randy was surprised and rather pleased by Luke's jealousy.
"I don't feel anything for Sean anymore," she said, "but you might have
been a little more polite to him. It was considerate of him to call."

"Considerate?" Luke shook his head incredulously. "Are you
really that naive? He's in New York, Miranda. Now that you're safely
married he obviously wants to start sleeping with you again." He added
a terse epithet that described his opinion of Sean Raley most
effectively.

"I'd rather sleep with
you
," Randy
whispered.

Luke reached out for her, but the tender mood of only
minutes ago had been lost. Randy couldn't respond to what she
considered pure animal lust, and Luke quickly sensed it. The
interrupted lovemaking left both of them hurt and touchy. Angry words
were exchanged, and they wound up in a blazing argument when Randy
demanded that Luke cancel his trip to Dallas the next day and he flatly
refused. His goodbye kiss the next morning was perfunctory at best.

Randy was so dejected that she spent most of the day at
the movies, but in the evening Linda and Roger appeared at the house
with Chinese food for three, and a little of her depression lifted.
Linda explained that Bill had mentioned Luke's trip to Dallas, so
they'd decided to keep her company for a while.

It didn't take Randy very long to admit that things were
less than perfect between her and Luke, or to become as angry as she'd
been the night before. After ten minutes of pouring her heart out, she
fumed, "So he's down in Dallas now, with Katrina Sorensen. And I'm not
supposed to mind, even though he threw a tantrum when Sean Raley called
me!"

"Randy, he's only doing his job," Roger pointed out. "And
as far as Katrina goes, you should feel sorry for him, not angry. He's
going to have his hands full shooting that advertisement."

"Well, poor little Luke. I don't see why he had to chase
down there to sign those contracts and watch them take a few pictures.
Dad could have done it."

"Because he knows how to handle Katrina better than anyone
else, and because it's his responsibility to sit down with your
attorneys and check over the contracts. He negotiated them," Roger
reminded her, "not your father."

Randy wasn't interested in Luke's devotion to duty. "So
where do I come into it?" she demanded. "In a couple of weeks I'll be
starting the company's executive training program. Every time I bring
up a honeymoon Luke claims he's trying to clean up his work so we can
go away, but he just seems to get busier and busier."

"You won't get any sympathy from Roger," Linda said with a
sigh. "He's as bad as Luke at times."

"If it were only the work I suppose I could cope with it,"
Randy replied. "But I can see that it's not. Something's eating at him,
but he won't admit it, much less talk about it. Maybe we'd have a
chance to work things out if I could only get him away from his damn
job, but you can see how much success I've had with
that
.
Tomorrow is Saturday, and he won't even be home till two o'clock."

Linda smiled, giving Roger a sidelong, calculating little
glance.

"Okay, Lin," he laughed, "I know that look. What do you
want from me?"

"Roger darling," she purred, "have you ever staged a
kidnapping?"

Randy was standing in the hall looking out the window,
nervously watching the street in front of the house. It was almost
two-thirty now. Linda and Roger, meanwhile, were sitting in the
kitchen, talking and drinking coffee. Also in evidence were two hulking
young men whom Roger had introduced as Pete and Clint. Pete was the
largest male nurse that Randy had ever seen, while Clint, an
out-of-work actor, looked more like an out-of-work wrestler.

When Luke's car turned into the driveway Randy's heart
began to slam against her ribcage. "Roger," she yelped, "he's back."
Luke didn't bother to pull into the garage, but parked the car in front
of the house. He got out, immaculately tailored as usual, whistling to
himself. When he caught sight of Randy at the window he smiled at her
and waved.

A moment later he let himself in. Roger had positioned
himself about two yards back from the door, with Pete on one side and
Clint on the other. Randy and Linda were standing on the first step of
the stairs. Luke looked around at everyone, his expression puzzled. His
eyes met Randy's. "What are you doing back there, honey?" he asked.

"Okay, fellas," Roger drawled. Pete and Clint, moving
incredibly quickly for such large men, rushed over and grabbed Luke
from behind, one of them holding his arms, the other his legs.

"What in hell is going on here?" he demanded. "Miranda?
Who
are
these people?"

No one paid any attention to the angry outburst, least of
all Roger, who removed a plastic bag from a leather satchel on the
floor by his feet and started toward Luke. Luke spotted the
handkerchief inside and started to struggle impotently. "Damn it,
Roger, I have plane tickets for—"

He never had the opportunity to finish the sentence.

Pete eased him gently to the floor. Roger, kneeling down
to finger the lapel of his jacket, remarked, "Nice suit. Come on,
fellas, let's get him into something more rustic." The switch to blue
jeans was accomplished with speedy efficiency.

When Roger withdrew a small bottle of medicine from the
leather satchel Randy began to feel mildly queasy. "Is that really
necessary?" she asked.

"Take it easy, Randy." He handed the bottle to Pete. "This
will keep him asleep for a couple of hours, that's all. I don't want
the guy cursing me all the way to Lake George." Randy turned away as
Luke moaned, protesting the taste of the medicine Pete was dropping
onto his tongue.

Afterward Roger pulled some rope out of his satchel and
tied Luke's arms and legs. Then he cocked an eyebrow at Clint. "He's
all yours, friend."

Pete had gone outside to retrieve a yellow station wagon
from in front of the neighbor's house. Clint carried Luke in a
fireman's hoist to a mattress lying in back of the wagon, laid him down
and covered him with a blanket. Several suitcases were tossed in after
him. Randy, Roger and Linda climbed into the front seat, and were
headed for upstate New York ten seconds later.

Randy had gotten very little sleep the previous night.
Kidnappings were not her usual
modus operandi
.
But somehow, from the moment Linda had mentioned the idea the evening
before, events had rushed on of their own volition, entirely out of her
hands. Roger was enjoying himself enormously; he said with a wink that
arranging a kidnapping was even more fun than producing a movie,
because everything was real.

Within forty-five minutes he'd made half a dozen phone
calls, arranging to borrow the wagon, a friend's cabin on an island in
the middle of Lake George in upstate New York, and Pete and Clint.
Roger Bennett, Randy decided, was the first man she'd met who could
keep up with her sister.

She repeatedly reminded herself that if she didn't get
Luke away from the office he would continue to work sixteen-hour days
while their relationship went to pieces. She reminded herself that
since he had kidnapped her, this was only poetic justice. But she
didn't want to think about how angry he would be when he woke up, or
what he would do to her once they were alone. Of course, as long as his
hands and legs were tied, he was really quite helpless.

Eventually the motion of the car and simple exhaustion put
her to sleep. The smell of hamburgers and fries woke her up, the change
in scenery telling her that they'd traveled quite a distance in the
meantime. Roger was just pulling back onto the highway after stopping
for dinner at a local diner.

"Are we nearly there?" Randy took the hamburger that Linda
held out to her and unwrapped it.

"Almost," Linda answered. "Luke's been tossing and
muttering to himself back there. I think he's about to wake up."

As if on cue, Randy heard a hoarse curse from the back of
the wagon and turned around to see Luke struggle into a sitting
position. "Miranda," he said irritably, "don't you think this has gone
far enough?"

Randy's blank expression gave no clue to the frightened
turmoil she felt. "Are you hungry?" she asked. "Roger got some
hamburgers."

"How am I supposed to eat one?" Luke demanded. "Damn it,
Miranda, when I get these ropes off—"

"You'll get them off when Randy cuts them off," Roger
interrupted with a laugh. "I was an Eagle Scout, Luke. I tie the best
knots in New York."

This boast was met with a pithy suggestion from Luke as to
just what Roger Bennett could do with his knots. Randy, ignoring Luke's
ungentlemanly language, offered sweetly, "I'd be glad to feed you,
Luke." When he gave a curt nod she unwrapped a burger and held it up
for him to bite. He looked at her as though he would cheerfully take
off her finger as well.

Half an hour later they pulled up to a pier where a
medium-sized cabin cruiser lay gently bobbing in the water. After
disposing of a hamburger and a packet of fries Luke had turned his
attention to removing the ropes that were binding his wrists. He hadn't
been successful.

Roger parked the car and opened the back of the wagon.
"Time for a spin across the lake, Luke. Come on, get out."

"Like hell I will," Luke said.

"You want me to knock you out again?" Roger pointed to the
boat. "I'm strong enough to carry you in there if I have to."

Luke glared first at Randy, then at Roger. "You might
explain how I'm supposed to walk," he snapped.

Roger only laughed. "Say please, Luke, and I'll cut the
ropes."

There was such a thing as going too far. "Roger," Randy
began, "don't you think…"

But Roger merely grinned and said to Luke, "I figure I've
owed you one ever since you swiped Katrina."

"You should have thanked me for that, not taken her back,"
Luke retorted. "Your stupidity isn't my problem!"

Roger thought it over for a moment, then conceded the
point. "I suppose you're right. Okay, I'll cut the ropes."

With a rather extravagant curse for Roger, Luke edged his
way out of the wagon, letting his legs dangle over the tailgate. Roger
took out a pocket knife and quickly cut through the ropes on Luke's
ankles.

"Okay, Luke, move it," he ordered lazily.

Luke, his face a study in cold fury, eased out of the car
and stood up. Roger promptly gave him a forceful shove in the direction
of the boat, prompting a sigh of dismay from Randy.

Livid over such treatment, Luke stopped dead. "You're
enjoying every minute of this, aren't you?" he accused.

Roger only smiled again, putting his arm around Luke's
shoulders and leading him a few feet away. He whispered something in
Luke's ear and checked that the ropes were secure. Then both men began
to laugh and walked to the boat together.

Randy and Linda exchanged a puzzled shrug, but said
nothing. Luke was no longer angry with Roger, but it soon became
obvious that he was eagerly anticipating the revenge he would take on
Randy. He stared at her during the entire trip to the little island
where Roger's friend had built his cabin, refusing to speak.

As they approached a small wharf Randy glimpsed a rough,
wooden cabin about ten yards beyond, surrounded by trees. Roger helped
Luke out of the boat, winked at Randy and announced, "We'll be back
tomorrow night."

"Do have fun, you two," Linda added.

Randy and Luke stood watching as the boat slowly
disappeared. Neither one spoke or moved. After several minutes Randy
finally murmured, "Are you very angry with me?"

"You could say that," Luke answered coldly. "Are you going
to untie me? Or do you plan to keep me this way until tomorrow night?"

"As long as it takes," Randy answered, her eyes fixed on
his chest. She began to undo the buttons of his shirt, her fingers
unusually clumsy as she bared his chest. Luke didn't tell her to stop
or try to walk away. When she was finished she pulled off her own tee
shirt, wound her arms around his neck and looked into his eyes.

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" he asked. "After all,
it's hardly the first time."

Though disappointed by his failure to respond, Randy
rubbed her half-naked body sensuously against his, standing on tiptoe
to gently nip at his lower lip.

Luke stood there like a statue. "Untie me, and then we'll
talk," he said.

"No." Randy dropped her arms to her sides. "I haven't had
your complete attention for the entire week we've been married, but I
aim to have it now. I'm going inside. You come in, lie down on the bed
and let me do what I want, and when I'm satisfied that your mind is on
me
,
then we can talk." She picked up the two suitcases she'd brought along
and started toward the cabin.

It had only one room and contained a variety of furniture
including a sofabed and a small dinette table. There were a stove and a
sink, but the cabin had no indoor plumbing or electricity. Several
gasoline lanterns sat on the table and the pump was located out the
back door.

One of the suitcases Randy had taken up with her contained
food, which she unpacked and put in one of the cabinets. Then she
opened up a bottle of what she had gathered to be Luke's favorite wine
and methodically drank down a six-ounce glass of it. Finally she opened
up the sofabed, made it up with sheets and blankets she found in a
dresser, and sat down to wait.

It seemed like hours before Luke finally came inside, and
by then Randy had gone through a second glass of wine. He silently sat
down on the bed, swung his legs up and lay back against the cushions
that served as a headboard. When Randy didn't immediately join him he
drawled, "I thought this was another one of your famous seductions,
Miranda. What are you waiting for?"