Banjo Man (11 page)

She moaned softly. “Then what are we going to do, Rick?”

“We’re going to let it happen, Laurie. I’m already in love with you … and you, you’re falling in love with me. I’m willing to stake my life on it. I know it scares you; it has to!”

“But I don’t know
how.
I don’t know if I can handle anything more right now than untangling my own life. I don’t know anything!”

“Oh, yes, you do! You know how to be gentle and loving and caring. You know how to be open and honest. You listen to me and it’s like you’re hearing the thoughts in my head, the things I can’t always say. And you look at me with those incredible eyes and it’s like you’re seeing the man I really am, the man I can’t always show the world. You know all that—I’ll teach you the rest.”

Standing on tiptoe, she kissed him lightly on the mouth. “Well, I’ll try to be a good student.”

Her reaction was playful, not coy, and she was totally unaware of the rush of desire her words and tone awoke in Rick.

He held her tightly, his eyes closed, and then he slowly drew his hands down her back and circled her waist. Reluctantly he pushed her away. “Time
for dinner. Shall we go down to the restaurant or—”

“Oh, let’s just order something up, Rick. That way we can cuddle and nibble and talk. It’ll be fun.”

“Oh, yeah.” He swallowed hard, already planning a cold shower for dessert!

They ordered club sandwiches and chips and cold beer from room service, and sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard and dropping crumbs on the sheets and laughing at Laurie’s foam moustache. When the sandwiches were gone, they split another beer, drinking from the same can, putting their mouths on the same place, smiling at each other over the rim.

“This is wonderful!” She grinned, licking the foam off her lips with her tongue. “Here, you’ve got some too.” Without thinking she leaned over and sipped the foam from his mouth.

Rick stiffened in surprise, then caught her around the waist and swung her up on top of his lap so that her knees spanned his thighs and her body was trapped against his. Holding her tightly with one hand, he pushed the empty plates over the edge of the bed with the other. Then he grinned back at her. “Try that again, woman. Now I’m ready for you!”

“Now I’m not,” she answered, breathless.

“Then I’ll go slow.” He kissed her neck and the tender hollow at the base of her throat, and slipped one finger beneath the neckline of her sweater and dusted kisses across her pale, translucent skin.

“How about taking off a little of this clothing?” he whispered, his warm breath causing shivers across her breasts.

Laurie felt her nipples swell and harden, her whole body begin to ache.

“How about if you go first?” she asked quickly, pressing one hand flat against her chest.

“All right.” Leaning back, watching her, he tugged his shirt free of his slacks, grabbed hold of the bottom edge and pulled it quickly up over his chest and off.

A sharp stab of desire pierced Laurie.

She reached out and pressed both hands flat against his skin, feeling his springy dark hair beneath her palms. Her hands looked small and narrow against his chest, and even when she spread her fingers, she could barely span its width. As her pinkies brushed against his nipples they hardened, and Laurie’s eyes jumped to his face in surprise. “Oh, I’m sorry! Oh, Rick, I—”

“No, no, sweet thing. Don’t be wasting one tiny breath on being sorry.” His voice was husky with desire. “Don’t be scared of my body. It’s just goin’ slightly crazy being this close to you.”

“But it’s okay, isn’t it? I mean, I feel so wonderful all of a sudden. So happy and free. You’d tell me if I was out of line, wouldn’t you? If I was doing something you didn’t like—”

“Oh, I like it, all right. That’s not the problem.”

“Well, to be honest,” she answered, laughter bubbling in her throat, “I like it too!”

“Come here.” He slid his body down flat onto the bed and drew her beside him, his hands moving slowly from her shoulders to her hips, molding her body to the length of his. “There, see how nicely everything fits?” His hands stroked her shoulders and back, tracing the ridge of her spine through the soft knit of her sweater. Her skirt had ridden up above her knees, and her legs were tucked between his. His hands found the small of her back, slid down, and moved softly over her buttocks, her skirt sliding against the silk of her panties. “Lovely … your body is so lovely.”

“I … I didn’t know. I—”

“You what?” He laughed, nipping her sharply on
the shoulder in sheer delight. “Darlin’, you’ll drive me crazy, I know it!”

Squirming against him, Laurie struggled to roll over onto the safe surface of the bed. “I think we’re both a little crazy, Westin. And I think I’d better get off you or I’m going to be in trouble.”

“I’m in trouble already!” he whispered as he nuzzled her ear playfully.

“Rick, really, I … I need to breathe. You know, air. Oxygen. Let’s calm down and talk.”

Flinging one arm up over his eyes, he drew a deep, steadying breath. “Let me count to a hundred a couple of times, and we can start a conversation.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” he answered quickly, lowering his arm and grinning at her. His eyes were smoke-dark, with fire sparking in their depths. “Nope,
you
are perfect. It’s my imperfect self-control that’s giving me a hard time. But”—he laughed, his teeth flashing white in the darkness—“I have a feeling I’m going to get plenty of practice.”

With a smile Laurie slipped from the bed and snapped on the light. “I may as well get ready for bed. I’ll just have to wear my slip,” she said, and disappeared into the bathroom.

Rick let his imagination run wild as he got out of his slacks and slid under the covers. Silk and lace. Sheer, with a plunging neckline and thin straps that he’d slip with agonizing slowness off her shoulders—

The door opened and Laurie stepped out in a shapeless white cotton slip salvaged from the convent.

“Hi.” She looked at him from under her lashes, feeling the heat climb steadily over the slip’s modest neckline, wishing she had something else to wear, something lacy and pretty and feminine. “I
… I didn’t expect anyone to see me,” she began haltingly, then was overcome with shyness.

“It’s fine, Laurie. You look like Juliet, or Sleeping Beauty. Come over here.” His voice downshifted into sexy. “Let the prince give you your kiss!”

And it was all right. She felt pretty again, desirable and desiring. She sauntered over to the bed, leaned down, and offered him her lips.

He took all of her, pulling her back into bed and tumbling them both around like puppies.

“Whoa! Halt! Uncle!” She giggled, disentangling herself from his arms and legs. “Don’t you think we’d better get some sleep? You have a show tomorrow, remember?”

“No problem, sweet thing. You’re the only thing I’ve got to concentrate on.”

She curled up next to him, studying him with great seriousness. After a moment she smiled and tucked her hand beneath her cheek, her wide eyes still resting on his face. “Rick Westin, you are a very handsome man, maybe the handsomest man in the whole world. And very sexy!”

He gave a sharp yelp of laughter. “Thank you, ma’am. Is that your opinion after years of research?”

“After years of dreaming. That counts!”

“Yes, it does. I’ll bow to your judgment.”

“Wise decision. Now, tell me, am I allowed to do this?” She kissed his mouth sweetly, a light butterfly touch.

“Yes … that’s fine.”

“And this?” She drew her hand slowly over his shoulders, enjoying the invisible curve of the muscle beneath the warm smoothness of his skin.

“Yes …”

“And this?” She bent her head and placed her lips where her hand had been, where the bunched
muscles of his shoulder smoothed into the flat plane of his chest.

She felt him jump, heard the hiss of his indrawn breath. “Now we’re in trouble again!”

“Oops!”

Heated laughter rumbled in his throat. “Go to sleep, woman, before I forget my promise and I
do
attack you. Sleep! Now!”

Obediently she turned on her side, her back to him, and he nestled against her, one arm wrapped possessively around her waist.

“Good night, Banjo Man.”

“Good night, darlin’.”

“You know,” she whispered, “I think you’re going to be an easy man to fall in love with.”

“Only for you,” he said, thinking his chest was going to explode. “But now that’s all that counts. And you, you’re like a star so new in the night sky that no one’s ever seen it shine before.”

Laurie smiled to herself, balanced her body against his, and slipped into sleep.

Rick Westin was awake all night, but he didn’t mind.

Rick had trouble getting dressed in the morning.

Laurie was bursting with new emotions, and longed to try them all out. How wonderful to feel her skin tingle, her mouth go dry, her insides melt, her nipples tighten. Pulse, respiration, temperature—everything was fantastically abnormal!

She walked her fingers down his spine as he slid from bed to answer the wake-up call. She rubbed her cheek against his bare back as he shaved. She tugged playfully at the hair on his chest as he disappeared into his clothes.

“Now, cut it out!” he’d order with a laugh, not meaning it, and take her in his arms for another kiss.

She didn’t taste breakfast, and he shrugged and ate her toast and blushed when he met her adoring, wide-eyed gaze.

“Hey! Cut it out, now,” he repeated, then gave up and leaned across the table to kiss her again.

It was without a doubt the craziest experience of
Rick Westin’s life: spending a sleepless night with the woman of his dreams, fighting the painful tug of physical need, wanting her more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life, and having Laurie awaken with the incredible aura of a woman fulfilled … simply by having spent the night beside him. Maybe they taught something in those convents he ought to find out about!

The concert was scheduled for one o’clock, and by noon the auditorium at the University of Pennsylvania was jammed. Rick introduced her to the other performers. The names were all unfamiliar to her, although they elicited their share of screams from the waiting crowd.

“Do you want to watch from backstage?” he asked. “It’ll be a lot less crowded.”

“Nope! I’m going to be right out front, in the middle of all those people. I want to see you the way they do—a stranger, a sexy banjo player with wild black hair and inscrutable eyes, and I’ll listen to you sing and indulge my fantasies.…”

“Write ’em down and I’ll work on them tonight!”

Laurie had never been to a large concert before, certainly not during her five years in the convent, and before that, in high school, her father had forbidden it. Now, having edged her way into the thick of things, she was overwhelmed by the noise, the press of bodies, the jostling and stamping and shouting. And when Rick came onstage he did seem a stranger, and oddly powerful. The crowd hushed, as if his playing tamed them. She watched them watching him, clapping their hands to his music, laughing at his jokes, shouting out requests.

It was a strange sensation. Part of her was the woman who had spent the night with him, and part was a shy young girl who stood lost among his other fans. Yet when it was over she was swept by
an odd sense of elation. She alone could go backstage and claim him.

Something of her feeling must have shown in her expression, because Rick took one look at her face and frowned.

“Come on, let’s take a quick walk around campus. We’ve got an hour before our obligatory appearance at the president’s cocktail party.” He didn’t wait for an answer, just slipped an arm around her waist and headed her away from the crowd.

“Rick”—she smiled up at him—“you were wonderful!”

“It was a good concert … good audience,” he answered guardedly.

“No, I mean you. You were great! You should do that all the time; they loved you!”

“Laurie, sometimes you scare me.” His brows were dark as thunder above his clouded eyes. “You’re all or nothing, black or white. Life isn’t that simple, darlin’. Not real life. Listen, those people don’t love me. They see the flash and the performance, but that’s all. How many do you think really hear the stories, or picture the lives that make those songs? That’s what
I
care about.”

“But if you did more concerts, more people would hear.”

“They don’t listen, not most of them.” He stopped and leaned against a tree, pulling her close. She stood with her feet between his, her arms around his neck, looking up at him.

“It’s just so exciting!”

“Only at first, Laurie,” he insisted, his voice rough-edged. “But not for long. And it’s all on the surface. Too many people are trying to score, and they all want something, but not what you want to give.”

“What
do
you want to give?”

“The music. The heritage. A glimpse at a world that’s fast disappearing. But I don’t want to give ‘me.’ That I only want to share … and only with one person.”

She smiled, tipping her head back. “Me?”

“You.” He nested his chin in the hollow of her neck and went on talking, almost to himself. “See, what I like is to play to a small audience, where I can see everyone’s face, and know if I’ve made contact. That’s why the Stage is good for me. That, and because it lets me get back into the hills every year.”

Laurie stiffened. Her smile slipped. “Oh, I had forgotten about that.”

“Well, it’s not until April, but you’ll love it!” He grinned, his dark eyes shining. “It’s all so beautiful: the people, the countryside, the whole pace and texture of life.”

“But … but you’re gone for six months. On a motorcycle. I’ve never even ridden on one!”

“Hey, that’s all right. I’ll teach you to ride a ’cycle. You won’t believe how great it is, moving across the fields and hills with the wind in your face, no car between you and the sounds and feel of the land. And we’ll stop at farmhouses and little roadside stands, and talk to the people. Meet their kids and their old folks, and eat their cooking, and—”

“And my job! I do have a job, you know.”