Mad About The Man (24 page)

Read Mad About The Man Online

Authors: Stella Cameron

Tags: #Food Industry, #Small Town, #Fashion Industry

BOOK: Mad About The Man
4.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

She licked at wet lips and he groaned.

"
I didn
'
t mean for this to happen.
"
Her voice was very small.
"
Honestly, I didn
'
t plan to—
"

"
Please—don
'
t talk for a minute, my love. There
'
l
l be lots of time for talking…
later.
"

He hadn
'
t gotten far with his first attempt at the bodice buttons. This time he concentrated. The buttonholes seemed to have shrunk, making the operation even more tedious, but perseverance prevailed. With the last one, he parted the dress, laying open to his view a white lace bra that didn
'
t cover the tops of her nipples and served only to turn him on even more— if that were possible.

Jacques worked the dress from her shoulders and pulled her arms from the sleeves before returning to her breasts. He slipped a finger beneath each bra cup and rubbed back and forth over her nipples.

"
Jacques!
"
Gaby
'
s voice rose to a squeak.

He kissed her again, still playing with the stiff nubs, still sending her writhing against him. Their mouths ground together, not quite silencing Gaby
'
s moans.

Jacques felt her hands between them, then the bra disappeared and she guided him to cover her breasts. When she took him into her firm fingers, a jolt shot to his knees and he almost buckled.

"
Lean on the wall,
"
she ordered, pushing him back while she bent to wriggle out of the dress and panties. These she tossed behind her while taking him, for an instant, into her mouth.

Jacques heard his own yell and arched his neck.

The sensation of a small but voluptuous and totally naked body layered on his, captured his immediate, complete attention.

Gaby pulled on his shoulders.
"
Look at me.
"

"
Gladly.
"
He could look at her forever.

Slowly, sensuously, she raised a knee, drew her leg up his thigh.
"
Come on, Jacques. Come
on.
"

Smiling, he lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist.
"
You may be the death of me yet, lady.
"
He changed their places to rest her against the tile.

"
If I don
'
t go first,
"
she said.

"
How about both going together?
"

The rest was accomplished in silence but for the sound of pelting water and labored breath. And in the end it took everything Jacques had not to fall to his knees.

Finally Gaby said,
"
Who needs horseback? We do just fine all on our own.
"

"
Fine,
"
Jacques murmured against her cheek.

"
But if I don
'
t get out of this shower and li
e down, I
'
m going to keel over.
"

He turned off the water.
"
Me, too.
"

They stumbled through the bathroom to the bedroom. Jacques stripped back comforter and sheet and fell onto the bed with Gaby in his arms.
"
We
'
re getting this wet.
"

"
Who cares?
"

"
Are you sure Mae
'
s not likely to show up?
"

"
Absolutely sure.
"

"
Gaby, you are really something. I
'
m never going to get enough of you.
"

She had grown still.

Jacques shook her gently and tipped her face up to his.
"
You okay?
"

She kept her eyelids lowered.
"
Yes. But I
'
m ashamed.
"

"
Of what?
"

"
I played a trick on you.
"

He
'
d almost forgotten!
"
Why don
'
t you tell me about it? Then I
'
ll decide how angry to be with you.
"

"
I put your tux in the dryer. It
'
ll be all wrinkled. And it probably shrank, too.
"

"
Why would you do a thing like that?
"
He wanted to grin so badly his face hurt.

"
Your shirt
'
s in the washer. It
'
s wet now.
"

"
You said you could clean me up in no time.
"

"
I lied.
"

She was wonderful. And she was useless as a schemer. Jacques managed to appear disturbed.

"
Do you know what time it is?
"
Gaby asked.
"
Look at the clock behind me.
"

"
Nine-forty. That late? Boy, doesn
'
t time fly when you
'
re having fun.
"

"
Jacques, I can
'
t pretend and lie anymore. I
'
m no good at it. I knew you had to race back to La Place to meet with Napoleon Paradise at nine this evening.
I
set out to make you miss your appointment and I
'
ve done it.
"

Her fingers dug into his chest. He eased them away and held her hands.

A defiant light entered her wonderful eyes.
"
I
'
m not sorry you didn
'
t make the meeting. But the way I did it was wrong.
"

"
Yes it was,
"
he told her solemnly.

"
I didn
'
t mean to— What just happened wasn
'
t part of the plan.
"

"
It should have been.
"

"
All I intended to do was get you dirty and make you too late.
"

"
Gaby, Gaby, that wasn
'
t nice.
"
Scooting them upward onto the pillows, he pulled the sheet up as they went.

"I was desperate. And you've been manipulating me. I know about the leprechaun auditions on the weekend you told me you wanted us to go to L
.
A."

"Is that a fact?" He was getting aroused again.
With exaggerated care he pushed Gaby onto her back
and, very deliberately, stroked her breasts.

"Jacques! Aren't you hearing a word I'm saying?"

"Every one." The tip of his tongue, applied to a
nipple, brought a very satisfactory response. Gaby's
knees jackknifed and she filled her fingers with his hair. "I do believe you like this," he said, opening his mouth to suckle.

"You can't be ready again. Not this soon."

"Want to bet?"
He smiled and ran a hand down her stomach.
"Why, I do believe I'm not the only one who's
ready."

"Jacques, aren't you mad at me? That crazy Paradise man will be furious. He'll probably refuse to reschedule the appointment."

"You, my love, shouldn't read other people's fax messages. When I was driving into Goldstrike this evening I got a call on the car phone."

"You did?"

"Yep. Napoleon canceled until further notice."

 

 

15

 

 

A
week hadn't done a thing to lessen her embarrassment. No, Gaby told herself, she would never,
never,
recover from the awful discovery that not only
had Napoleon Paradise put off his visit before she knocked Jacques to the ground and crawled all over him, but that Jacques had
guessed
exactly what she'd
been doing

before he'd yanked her into the shower.

She left the sidewalk in front of her showroom and
crossed the street on her way to buy coffee.

Char couldn't understand why Gaby had told
Jacques she never wanted to see him again!

The grayness of the day matched her mood. No
vember had never been a favorite month and this one
was worse than any she remembered.

Why had he given up
trying
to get her to talk to
him
?
She might have changed her mind the next time
he called or stopped by.

"Gaby! Wait!"

If there'd been any alternative, she'd have slipped away. Unfortunately there was no question of pre
tending not to see Sophie rushing into her path.

"I was hoping to find you," Sophie said, catching
up. "I'd have been along earlier only there was a
meeting about the new library."

Gaby halted. "I haven't heard anything about a
new library."

"No. Well

You have been a bit distant for the past few days, dear." The wind carried wisps of So
phie's white hair forward. "Anyone would think you
were avoiding all of us."

"Tell me about the library," Gaby said, feeling belligerent.

Sophie waved a hand. "It's to be part of the senior
center that's being built."

Another Ledan sop to the populace reared its head.
"And where will that be? What will we lose to get it?"

"I'm sure I don't know. And I don't know what
you're suggesting, either. You're upset, Gaby. Come
along. We'll take a walk and talk about what it is that's making you so nasty."

"I am
not
nasty!"

"No, dear." Sophie threaded her arm through
Gaby's and began to walk determinedly down the street. "You are too hard on yourself, dear. Really you are."

Gaby wrinkled her nose.
Dear
had never been in
Sophie's vocabulary. "I don't have time for this. I
was on my way to buy some coffee. We're almost out."

"The coffee can wait."

"We're in full production for a show, Sophie."

"And you can't produce without coffee?"

"In my business people have to be happy to work
well."

Sophie continued on without missing a step. "In
that case you must be working very poorly indeed."

"All right." Gaby planted her feet. "What exactly
is this all about? Who's been talking to you and what
have they said? Did Mae tell you I've been short-tempered? Is that it?"

"No." Sophie's cheeks turned pink. "Sit with
me." She indicated a bench in front of the defunct Goldstrike Exotic Pet Emporium.

Graceful surrender could sometimes be the best course. Gaby sat down and Sophie joined her.

"Do you call that thing you're wearing a boater?" Sophie asked.

"Yes." She tilted the straight brim of her shiny straw hat lower over her eyes.

"Sort of a W. C. Fields effort. Interesting, I suppose. I'm not sure about the yellow-green color on you, though. And I do think dried prunes are a bit much."

"They're big blackberries."

"Are they? Well that's the problem, then. You
should have made them the right size so they
wouldn't look like prunes."

Gaby had to smile. She shook her head and slid to
slouch into the back of the bench. "You aren't inter
ested in hats or blackberries or prunes, Sophie. You're
hedging. Get to the point."

"Oh, dear. Was I being rude?"

"Sophie

"

"Yes, well

Well, I don't know why I'm prattling
like this. I expect old age is finally settling in."
Commenting that old age had usually set in by
one's late seventies didn't seem kind.
"Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I don't agree with Char. Not one
bit. There. Now I've said it."

Gaby crossed her arms. "Char said something
about me? Something you don't agree with?"

A fit of genteel coughing delayed Sophie's re
sponse. Then she said, "I'm sure Char's only worried
in case Mr. Ledan takes advantage of you—again, that is."

If a caterpillar had climbed a nearby leaf, Gaby would have heard it. She felt aware of every tiny sound and movement in the world. Her mouth had dropped open but she didn't care. Even Char, who said almost anything to almost anyone, wouldn't
share Gaby's personal humiliation—and most private
encounters—with
Sophie.
Straight-laced Sophie
who'd lived a spinster's life in an age when that
meant
virginity!

"You can rely on me for discretion, Gaby. You're
a nice girl. Whatever you've done, I'm certain it's
been with the good of the cause in mind You decided
to sacrifice yourself for the sake of others." Sophie raised her chin and drew her shoulders back. "I, for one, applaud your unselfishness."

Listening to a caterpillar climbing was fodder for
novices. Now Gaby could have heard flowers growing
at the seed stage—if it weren't for the blood roaring in her ears. Her cheeks throbbed.

"Look at you, you poor little thing
.
" Sophie pried
one of Gaby's hands free and clasped it between both
of her own. "Beaten down by the weight of all the responsibility that's been thrust upon you. Is it your fault you were the one Mr. Ledan singled out as a friend? Is it?"

Gaby shook her head.

"Of course it isn't. And I think that to have the courage to go out there on that road and as good as
throw
yourself in front of that unpleasant vehicle he drives was nothing short of
heroic."

Char
had
told Sophie. Gaby covered her face.

"Oh, my, you
are
upset. I'm not doing this very well, I'm afraid. What I should be saying is that I
don't think things are going to work out at all
badly

in general, that is."

"Things couldn't be worse."

"That's not true. Look, I want you to consider
something. Promise me you will."

Gaby couldn't bring herself to look at Sophie. "I can't promise to do something when I don't know
what it is." As soon as she could get away she'd hide and never come out. She was
mortified.

"You made wonderful progress with Mr. Ledan."

"Can't we let this—wonderful progress?"

"Absolutely." A delighted smile made Sophie
look younger. "I know al
l about that horrid Napoleon
Paradise person. I looked him up and he's a disaster.
He'd
be
a disaster in Goldstrike. That's what we've got to stop at all costs—the theme park."

"And the gambling excursions to Tahoe, the high-
rise luxury hotel and the health spa," Gaby muttered,

"Yes, of course. But first things first. And you've
made a start, you clever thing. You got Mr. Ledan to
put off Mr. Paradise's visit indefinitely!"

"I didn't—"

"Stop belittling your efforts, Gaby. You didn't get
Mr. Ledan to abandon the park entirely—yet. But be
fore you made your superb effort, the whole thing was
in motion."

Effort?
Gaby hadn't had a migraine in years. Today
might be the day to break that happy record. "Char
told you about my

effort with Jacques."

"She certainly did. And she said she'd warned you
it wouldn't do any good. Men, she informed me in
that terribly flip way of hers, will always be flattered
by that sort of thing—enjoy it, I think she said, but not be swayed from a decision already made. But
she's being foolish because—obviously—your effort
did sway Mr. Ledan. Somewhat."

"I see." Why burst Sophie's bubble?

"Yes. And the reason I wanted to talk to you this
morning—in addition to congratulating you on what you've already accomplished—was to ask you to do
something else for us."

"Something else?" Gaby said wea
kl
y.

Sophie swiveled and regarded her seriously. "I'll understand if you think this is too much."

"What is it?"

"Try again, Gaby. Maybe this time you'll be com
pletely successful and Mr. Ledan will decide to give up on the theme park. For the good of the cause, I'm
asking you to repeat your effort."

There was nothing to be said. No answer could convey Gaby's amazement. She stared into Sophie's sincere blue eyes and felt her own muscles turn to water. Sophie Byler, spinster and ex-schoolteacher, upholder of upstanding morals and president of the Women's Auxiliary had exhorted Gaby to venture once more to seduce Jacques Ledan!

"It was a risk," Sophie said. "I knew it, but I took it, anyway. I hope you won't think less of me."

Feeling shell-shocked, Gaby pushed her hat to the
back of her head. "I don't think less of you. How could I?"

"Because I was selfish enough to push you too far."

"Nothing could push me farther than I've already
been pushed this week."

"Nevertheless

" Sophie became silent and her grasp on Gaby's hand tightened. "Oh, my. Some things simply are not fair."

Gaby looked at Sophie, then slowly turned to see
what had drawn the old lady's lips into a disapproving
line.

Striding down the center of the street, his denim
duster flying in dashing Western fashion, came a tall,
huskily-built man.

A weak sun chose that moment to spear through
the clouds, and Gaby shaded her eyes. The man's face was in shadow, but his thick blond hair, worn rakishly
long, shone—especially where hours on some California beach had turned it almost white.

His shoulders swung and the heels of his silver-toed, gray snakeski
n slouch boots rang on the pave
ment.

A way behind him, parked a distance from the
curb, stood a white Mercedes convertible with the top
down.

He arrived in front of them.

Gaby started at the custom boots, worked her way
up
gray leather jeans that fitted athlete-perfect legs
like a second skin, skimmed past a low-slung belt of
solid silver links, a gray silk shirt of flamboyantly
Western cut and arrived at the newcomer's square
jaw.

The sun made another run for it.

"Hi, Gab," the man said. "Gorgeous as ever, babe.
Y
ou never change."

"Neither does he," Sophie murmured.

Of course the chin had a cleft just deep enough to
be irresistible. The lips that parted in a smile showed
white teeth that had never needed bonding.
Warm, boyishly honest eyes were pure, cerulean blue and fringed with thick, black lashes.

Standing in the middle of Goldstrike on a November afternoon was a man no woman could fail to run
her car into a pole for.

Gaby plucked at a hole in one leg of her jeans and
spread an arm along the back of the bench. "And I said nothing could push me farther than I'd already been pushed this week. Hello, Michael."

 

 

H
e'd made up
his mind to stay away from her.

"You do know who Michael Copeland is, don't you?"

Jacques paced another circuit around a storeroom
behind the building that housed his suite and Gaby's
business premises. Char Brown had called with an urgent request for him to meet her there. Now she was telling him things he didn't want to hear.

Other books

Bad Nerd Rising by Grady, D.R.
To Tempt A Rogue by Adrienne Basso
The Best Man's Baby by Victoria James
The Exodus Is Over by C. Chase Harwood
Sir Thursday by Garth Nix
Janet by Peggy Webb
The Kissing Game by Marie Turner