Garden of the Moongate (18 page)

"We'll decide that later. Right now I have something entirely different on my mind," he said softly, gripping her wrist to relentlessly pull her down onto his lap. Though she gasped softly, his arms closed around her waist, pressing the rounded softness of her breasts against his muscular chest. His mouth lowered to brush against hers. "It seems longer than three days since I've kissed you."

She closed her eyes on the dangerously compelling flare of passion in his. As her lips parted involuntarily, his mouth covered hers with a rough urgency that she had never known from him before. A primitive fear arose in her, only to be swamped by an excitement so strong and intense she felt she could never be close enough to him. As her slender arms wrapped around his neck and she moved against him the hardening of his lips was echoed throughout the length of his body. The large, demanding hand that slipped beneath her shirt to squeeze her waist wasn't gentle until it moved up to cup the straining fullness of one breast. Then his touch became so light and confidently arousing that an exquisite ache radiated throughout her entire body. Her head came to rest in the warm hollow of his shoulder, and she trembled as his lips trailed over the creamy, sensitized skin of her throat. His warm breath tantalized her ear as he whispered, "I like to touch you."

"I like to touch you, too," she whispered back, proving her words by tugging open his shirt and grazing her hands over the fine hair on his chest. But she had not been prepared for the savage ardor of his reaction. Groaning, he pressed her even closer, holding her tightly even when she instinctively tried to pull away.

Knowing the potential danger of this kind of lovemaking, she dragged her mouth from his, hoping to cool his passion by uttering the first thing that popped into her head. "It's n-nearly lunchtime," she whispered, feeling silly. "Aren't you hungry?"

He lifted his head slightly, an indulgent smile softening the sensual curve of his lower lip. "Only for you, Allendre," he muttered huskily, his eyes half closed as they intently surveyed the parted softness of her mouth. "You're delicious, did you know that?" When she shook her head, he nodded. "Well, you are. You're the most delicious, softest girl I've ever known, and I can't seem to keep my hands off you. Forget about lunch."

"But, Ric…"

His hands tangled in her thick golden hair, holding her fast as his mouth descended on hers again to tease her lips with tugging nibbles by his strong white teeth. "Touch me again," he commanded roughly before his kiss became hard and possessive. It was a demand she could not resist.

With an almost comforting sense of inevitability, she didn't even try.

The next Tuesday, as Allendre stood behind the desk in the lobby, she looked down at her wristwatch, tapping the crystal thoughtfully. Then she turned to smile at Loretta, who was manning an unusually quiet switchboard. "It's five-thirty, so why don't you take a break from now until six, when I leave? Then you'll feel more like holding down the fort until Miss Hopkins takes over for you at nine."

"Well, if you're sure you won't need me for a few minutes," Loretta answered conscientiously, "I would like to look around in one of the gift shops for a birthday present for my niece. She'll be four day after tomorrow. But if you think things might get too busy around here…"

"I doubt they will," Allendre said wryly. "It's always dead around here this time of day. I suppose everybody's getting dressed for dinner. I don't think it'll hurt anything for you to take a break. Go ahead. Find your niece something really super."

"I did see a doll in one of the shops that I think she'll love," Loretta said, rising to her feet. "And they only had two left. I'd hate for both of them to be sold before I got a chance to get one."

"Then run on," Allendre commanded, waving her along, smiling to herself as the clerk grabbed her purse and hurried away. Loretta was a nice girl and a terrific co-worker. Allendre had yet to see even a glimpse of that lackadaisical attitude Loretta had exhibited on the day of Allendre's arrival. Ric's presence obviously provided her with initiative. Now that she knew what was expected of her, she was glad to give it. Unfortunately, not all the other hotel employees seemed glad to give a good day's work. With Ric here, they had become considerably more efficient, but they still lacked that spark of enthusiasm Loretta displayed. Allendre couldn't understand it, and apparently Ric was baffled, too; but Deb always simply shrugged off the problem, explaining it away by saying no one wanted to work for a living these days.

Except Loretta. Fifteen minutes later, she was back at the desk, grinning triumphantly as she showed Allendre a large package. "It was the last doll they had. Thanks a lot for letting me go get it."

Allendre lifted her shoulders dismissively. "No problem. While you were gone, there was only one call to the switchboard and nobody at all stopped by the desk. I've never seen it this quiet, and to tell the truth, I'm getting a little bored."

"Why don't you just leave, then?" Loretta suggested. "I can handle everything, and you'll have a few more minutes to relax before you dress for dinner."

"I think I will go," Allendre agreed, stepping toward the office door. "But first I'd better try to drag Mr. Shannon away from the July financial statement that arrived today."

"He does put in long hours, doesn't he?" Loretta said with some surprise. "I guess I never thought a hotel owner had to do much more than order everybody else around. But Mr. Shannon's different. He works hard, and that makes me want to work hard, too."

"And you're doing a fantastic job. Mr. Shannon's told me several times how proud he is of you." Smiling at Loretta's pleased expression, Allendre opened the office door, then tiptoed in when she saw that Ric was lounging back in the chair behind the desk, his eyes closed as if he were giving them a rest. She approached him quietly, then noticed his steady, slow breathing. He wasn't simply resting his eyes; he was actually asleep. With his face relaxed, she glimpsed an almost boyish vulnerability in his features and felt a sudden rushing desire to hold him close and perhaps lighten some of the overwhelming sense of responsibility he must feel for Shannon House. It was a new experience for her, this feeling of protectiveness toward him, but she supposed it was just another facet of being in love.

Tilting her head to one side, she watched him sleep, wishing she knew exactly where she stood with him. Their relationship seemed to be changing. They had spent the past three evenings together, once going to dinner in a quaint little restaurant in Southampton Parish and then on to an amateur theater production, and twice simply walking along the beach for hours, talking. There had naturally been moments when he touched her or kissed her and passion flared between them, but he no longer seemed only physically interested in her. It was tempting to hope that he might be beginning to feel some real affection for her, but she tried not to let her hopes rise too high. She had fallen in love with him, knowing very well that he didn't love her in return, and she needed to keep reminding herself that he never might.

If only he could, though, she thought, reaching out compulsively to touch his dark hair. When his eyes opened lazily to survey her with darkening intensity, a breathtaking excitement gripped her. His hands came out to span her waist, pulling her down onto his lap without a word. She didn't resist. As her head nestled in the hollow of his shoulder and he brushed a kiss against the scented thickness of her hair she sighed contentedly, curving her hand around his neck.

"It's nearly six," she whispered. "Don't you think you've stared at that financial report long enough?"

"Apparently not," he answered wryly. "I'd still like to know where all those extra profits are coming from, but Deb gives me only vague explanations, such as that sometimes the coffee shop turns in money without receipts, or that she's misplaced receipts. It's a good thing she didn't become an accountant; her record-keeping methods are abominable. It's a wonder to me the accounting firm makes any sense at all out of the records she's been sending them."

"Why are you so worried about the extra profits?" Allendre asked, wondering again about the overcharging allegations. "Don't you think Deb's telling you the truth?"

"I can't imagine why she'd lie. After all, it's not as if money is missing. But still, it's hard to understand how so many receipts can get lost in the shuffle around here."

Allendre snuggled closer, sensing his frustration and wishing she had some answers to give him. But she didn't yet. Even in a week, she had only witnessed two guests complaining about their bills, and the amounts they had protested had been so inconsequential that it would take many more than two of those a week to account for the unexplained profits. So, in reality, she was as confused as he was, but she planned to keep probing just in case Deb wasn't telling him the truth. At the moment, however, she only wanted to see him relax. "Why don't you forget that statement until tomorrow?" she suggested. "A nice dinner might make you feel better."

"It might if I could have it with you," he said, brushing a light kiss across her temple. "But I'd better call Deb up here early tonight and see if she can remember where some of July's extra money came from." His arms tightened around Allendre's waist as he whispered close to her ear, "I thought we might take a walk along the beach again after I've finished with Deb, if you'd like to. I'll call you."

She nodded, trying not to shiver as his warm breath caressed the sensitive skin of her neck. "I'd like that very much."

"Are you happy here?" he asked abruptly, tilting her chin back with one finger so she couldn't avoid his eyes. "Do you regret coming to work at Shannon?"

"You know I don't," she murmured, her lips parted as his mouth lowered slowly to hers. The kiss they exchanged was more a tender exploration than a passionate one, at least at first. His gentle fingers stroked her hair back from her face as she turned toward him with a contented murmur, but when his hand pressed between her breasts and her heart jumped and she moved against him, his lips hardened with abrupt, overpowering desire. He drew her bended knees close up against him as his mouth devoured hers with possessive urgency. And, as usual, she was nearly lost in the sensations he aroused in her, so lost that she didn't realize that the door had opened and they were no longer alone until he lifted his head. As his hand moved down from the rounded curve of her breast to her waist Allendre opened her eyes, blushing crimson when she saw Deb standing by the door glaring at them, a malevolent gleam in her hazel eyes. Though Allendre struggled to sit up, Ric held her fast against him, apparently not one whit disturbed or embarrassed by the intrusion.

"You're in early tonight, aren't you?" he asked calmly, at last loosening his grip on Allendre so she could stand and smiling at her indulgently when she unconsciously smoothed her clothing and her slightly tousled hair. Then he turned his attention to Deb again. "Did you want to see me about something?"

Miraculously, Deb controlled her temper, though she wasn't exactly friendly. "No. I didn't come to see you," she said stiffly, going to open a small closet. "I left my sweater here last night. I just came to pick it up."