Dreamkeepers (34 page)

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Authors: Dorothy Garlock

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BOOK: Dreamkeepers
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She took a deep breath and turned her face up to meet his accusing stare.

“I was talking to Herb Belsile.”

“I know who you were talking to. I was going to use the phone in the bedroom, and I heard you.”

“You listened!” she said accusingly.

“Not on the phone. I came out here and listened.”

Pride, and then anger came to her defense. “I was talking to my attorney about money. Is there anything else you’d like to know?” After the sleepless night her nerves were on edge and she wanted to get away from him before she disgraced herself and cried.

“Why do you need several months’ allowance?” he asked bluntly.

“You’ve no right to know about my financial affairs any more than I have the right to know about yours, Adam Reneau.”

“You think not, Molly Reneau?” he said sharply. “You’re my wife. You know what that means? It means that I’m responsible for you whether you like it or not.”

Her mouth compressed. Before she could give a suitable retort, his voice softened, he let his hands go up and down her arms in a caressing motion, and he continued:

“You’re worried about going out tonight and want to buy new clothes.”

The amazement showed in her eyes before her glance fell. “Now you know all my little secrets.”

He made a kind of growling noise in his throat and tried to pull her toward him, but she resisted. “It isn’t so important what you wear, Molly.”

“It is to me,” she replied.

He pulled her to him and hugged her. “We’ll go out and buy you the best-looking outfit in town, if that’s what you want.”

She pushed herself away from him. “It isn’t what I want, Adam! I’ll buy my own clothes, thank you.”

He gave a sharp exclamation and his black brows drew together. “Not with me, you won’t! I’d look like a fool.”

“You don’t need to go alone.” She knew she shouldn’t have said it. She saw the determination flash in his eyes and knew her case was lost.

“I’m going! I’m paying! If you’re such a square about your husband buying your clothes, you can pay me back.”

For a long moment she didn’t move. The expression on her features was easy to read; the doubt, indecision, and then resignation as she came to a decision.

“All right, but only if I pay back every cent. I’m not a charity case. My father left me provided for.”

She was standing determinedly, trying so hard to be independent. A sudden desire came over Adam to cherish her. He looked at the trembling mouth and wanted to kiss it. Not the brotherly kisses he had been giving it, but the passionate kisses of a man who wants to make love to a woman. He knew he dared not, so he casually said, “You win. We’ll do it your way this time.” He could see the apprehension on Molly’s face and was surprised at himself for trying so desperately to put her at ease.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

M
OLLY’S APPREHENSION ESCALATED
the moment they stepped into the fashionable dress shop where they had come to buy her clothes.

The room they entered was pale green with touches of white. The deep carpet, white sofas, long glass tables, and potted plants gave the impression of an elegant sitting room. A tall, slender, fashionably dressed woman came to meet them.

“Adam!” She gave him an electric smile and held out her hands. “How nice to see you.” He took her outstretched hands.

“And nice to see you, Jaclyn.” His voice was cool, and he dropped her hands after only a brief contact.

The woman stood there smiling, seemingly unaware of the rebuff, which was apparent to Molly. She sensed, immediately, the aloofness that had come over Adam. She wished desperately he hadn’t come with her and fidgeted nervously. She felt gawky and uncomfortable standing beside him looking up at this tall, chic woman.

“This is my wife.” Adam turned to her and took her hand.

Jaclyn turned astonished eyes to Molly. “Your wife? You? Married?” There was no mistaking the amusement and disbelief in her voice.

Her eyes swung to Molly and surveyed her with unsmiling curiosity. She took her time assessing her, missing nothing. The scrutiny went on for so long that Molly felt acutely embarrassed. Adam seemed to be amused.

“Well,” Jaclyn said at last, “her figure is good, although she’s rather short.”

Molly’s blood was boiling; her anger was directed at Adam as well as the woman. How dare he bring her here to be looked at, judged, and have her imperfections pointed out to him. Her mouth opened, but before she could frame a suitable retort, he squeezed her hand to silence her.

“The reason we’re here is to select a wardrobe for my beautiful wife. I don’t wish to spoil her natural beauty. I know exactly how she should be dressed—with very little sophistication, do you agree?” His tone was cool and oddly patronizing.

“Of course you’re right, Adam. You’ve always had excellent taste . . . in clothes,” she said grudgingly.

“Take us to one of your rooms and show us evening dresses and wraps.”

When they were seated in a small mirrored room and Jaclyn had left them alone, Molly turned on him.

“I don’t like any part of this,” she fumed. “I’ll not be looked over like I was a . . . horse!”

Adam smiled down into her angry face. The violet eyes sparkled with indignation. He chuckled softly and put his arm around her.

“She’s a professional, Molly, that’s why we came here. Whether you like her or not she knows clothes and, remember, you’re the one that wanted to be suitably dressed.”

“I don’t care,” she sputtered, “I still don’t—”

“If you don’t shut up, I’m going to kiss you.” He tried to appear very stern. Molly got only so far as to open her mouth when his came down on it and stopped the words and all thoughts of words. He kissed her long and hard, not the little kisses he had been giving her, but the same kisses he gave her on that night she almost lost her head. Her heart was beating wildly when he finally raised his head. His eyes had narrowed and his breath was coming a little faster. A wild thought came to Molly.
He enjoyed kissing me as much as I enjoyed being kissed!

They both looked up to see the woman, Jaclyn, watching them with a look of annoyance on her face. Molly felt a wave of pure exultation.
The woman was jealous! Well,
she thought spitefully,
that paid her back for the snippy remark about my height.

“If you’re ready, Adam,” she said, in what Molly believed to be her professional tone, “we’ll show you what I think would be suitable for your . . .”—there was a short meaningful pause—“. . . wife.”

Models began to appear as if from nowhere in response to the command from Jaclyn. They displayed one gorgeous creation after the other. Molly’s head began to swim in her efforts to choose from the collection of clothes that were paraded before her. Without objection she accepted Adam’s choice and went with Jaclyn to the fitting rooms.

The dress she, or rather Adam, chose was cut from white velvet. The bodice folded itself lovingly around her young breasts. It, as well as the tiny stand-up collar, was studded with rhinestones. The skirt fell quite straight and simple to her feet. She loved it and thought it must cost the earth, but three months’ allowance should cover the cost of the dress and the long white wool coat. The seamstress took her measurements while she was undressed. The evening dress would be shortened and she assured Molly she would be able to wear it that evening.

The shopping had not been the ordeal Molly feared. Coming back to the small room where Adam was waiting, she found him standing with Jaclyn viewing clothing brought in by models, who after holding up the garment for his inspection, would wait until he shook his head either up and down or sideways. Jaclyn was busy with a pad and pencil. The clothing ran from skirts and sweaters to day dresses to slack suits and loungewear.

Desperation made Molly’s voice sharper than she intended it to be.

“Adam!” She clutched his sleeve. “Adam, what—”

“Just a minute, darling,” he cut her off.

“What . . .” The agitation in her voice caused him to turn and whisper in her ear.

“Shut up, or I’ll kiss you again.”

“I can’t afford this stuff!” she hissed.

Adam turned back to Jaclyn as if she hadn’t spoken.

“Deliver these things to my apartment, Jaclyn, and add a supply of underthings.” Then to Molly’s utter consternation he added, “And see to it there are some negligees and nighties included and . . . ah . . . be sure one is black lace.”

He squeezed her hand so tightly she thought he would break the bones. She was mortified! She had been stripped naked here in front of this woman as if she were a store window mannequin! All her instincts urged her to tell them both off; instead, she walked sedately beside Adam to the door. There, Jaclyn spoke the only words she had said to her since they had entered the shop.

“I hope you enjoy your new wardrobe . . . Mrs. Reneau.”

Molly’s head went up and with it a shrewishness she didn’t know she possessed.

“It will do . . . for now, Jaclyn. Thank you for showing us your collection.” With all the dignity of a queen she marched ahead of Adam and out the door.

When they reached the street, it was a different matter. In no uncertain terms she let him know that she was not having all those clothes.

“I can’t afford them. The dress and wrap will take my allowance for three months!” She ended on a pleading note: “And another thing, that woman didn’t believe we were married. She thought you had picked me up and was . . .”

“Was . . . what?” he laughed. “She thought you were my mistress! Wouldn’t she be surprised if she knew the truth?”

“You let her think . . . it,” she snapped bitterly.

“I don’t care what she thinks, Molly mine.” He tucked her hand into his and put both their hands in his coat pocket.

“I’ll call Herb and tell him I’ll need more money,” Molly said dejectedly.

“No, you won’t. You can pay me back when the year ends. Now let’s hear no more about it.” He was walking so fast she was almost trotting to keep up with him.

In the late afternoon Molly lay down on the big wide bed in her room and tried to doze off, but her mind was too active. Her eyes wandered around the room, her room, temporarily. She wondered who had used the room and left the lipstick. She shied away from thoughts of Adam being with a woman. The quiet of the room began to have its effect and her eyes became heavy with sleep. The sleepless night and the shopping tour had taken a toll of the strength she had gained after her bout with the flu. She turned over on her side, tucked her hands under her cheek, and slept.

She awoke an hour later feeling amazingly refreshed and went into the bathroom to run her bath. From the array of toiletries assembled on the shelf beneath the large mirror she selected the liquid bubble bath and generously doused her bath water. The result delighted her. The tub filled with soft bubbles emitting a haunting fragrance. She luxuriated in the big square tub, loath to get out. The steam from the bath had allowed a few tendrils of her hair to escape the hairpins she had used to pin it up. She was raising up out of the tub to reach more pins when she heard her bedroom door open.

Through her half-open bathroom door she saw Adam walk into her bedroom with his arms piled with boxes which he dumped on the bed. She gasped in dismay. His laughing dark eyes met her startled ones, traveled down over her bare shoulders, then deliberately lower. He walked into the bathroom and seated himself on a stool. Molly was shocked speechless.

“Want me to wash your back?” he asked Molly. She tried to sink lower into the bubbles.

“You’re being a smartass, Adam! Get out of here!”

He reached for a washcloth, dipped it in the water, and let it trail across the back of her neck.

“Nasty words! I’ll have to wash your mouth out with soap.” He whispered in her ear, then nipped the lobe gently with his teeth.

She grabbed the cloth and was about to swing with it when he jumped out of the way.

“Go ahead with your bath, kitten. I’ll unpack your dress.”

Molly sank lower in the tub and prayed the bubbles would last until he left the room. She could see him unpacking the white dress and hanging it on a hanger. To her chagrin he unpacked everything. The lacy underthings, the nightgowns. He laid out high-heeled silver sandals she had not seen before. He rummaged in the boxes and came toward the bathroom with an infuriating devilish grin on his face. He was holding up for her inspection a sheer black lace negligee.

“Here’s something for you to put on when you get out of the tub,” he drawled.

“Get out of here, Adam Reneau!” she said crossly, and threw the wet cloth at him. He dodged it easily and came to kneel down beside the tub.

“You shouldn’t throw things at your husband,” he scolded.

She could feel his breath on her cheek. His hand went out to cradle the back of her head. She was looking into his eyes when his lips came down on hers. His kiss was light until her lips parted voluntarily, then it deepened, his breath quickened, and he pulled her to him, lifting her wet arm out of the water to guide it around his neck. His hand caressed her bare back and coming around cupped and squeezed her small pointed breasts that were half concealed by the bubbles. She felt an electric current going through her. He tore his mouth from hers and buried his face in the damp, fragrant skin of her neck.

“Do you know what you’re doing to me?” he demanded huskily, and not waiting for an answer, he gently pulled down her lower lip with his thumb and forefinger and fastened his lean mouth to hers again.

Molly had never been kissed by any other man and even he had never kissed her in this savage, passionate way before. She arched toward him, pliant in his arms. Only a small part of her consciousness urged her to try and stop him.

His dark eyes were glazed with emotion when he lifted his head. Aroused as she was, Molly hardly knew when his lips had left hers. He kissed her on the nose, then gently drew her arm from around his neck. Scooping up a handful of bubbles, he covered her pink-tipped breasts where they rose out of the water.

“Am I the only man to have kissed you?”

She nodded, not taking her eyes from his. She felt as if she was mesmerized. He placed little nibbly kisses on her face and neck.

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