Molly (17 page)

“Already? After all those sweet rolls you had
for breakfast?” He grasped the picnic basket and led her toward a
grove of trees. “I’ll have to sell stock in order to raise the
funds to feed you.”

Laughing, they spread their picnic on a
couple of towels from his hotel room, and he got busy stuffing ham
and cheese into huge hunks of French bread. He sat down beside her
and uncorked the wine. Wine always put Molly in an adventurous
mood, and after lunch she talked Samuel into a carousel ride.

She was having so much fun she didn’t even
notice the time. It was only four o’clock when they got back to
their hotel room, and Samuel disappeared into the bathroom,
whistling.

The bed seemed to have grown bigger in their
absence. Love in the afternoon. Was that why Sam had come back so
early?

What was she supposed to do now? Seduce him,
she guessed, and Rule Four be damned. After all, she was the one
who had asked for the affair. She wondered if she was supposed to
strip all the way or if she could get by with merely taking off her
shoes. Lands, she was so nervous, you’d think she had never been
naked in front of a man before. She hadn’t, really. Posing nude for
artists didn’t count.

She kicked off her shoes and caught a glimpse
of herself in the mirror. Her hair was a mess and she had a smudge
of dirt on her cheek. Nobody in his right mind would find that
sexy. She ran a comb through her hair and rubbed at the smudge.
What was he doing in the bathroom so long?

She tiptoed to the bathroom door and
listened. Water was running. He was
showering.
That
sounded serious to her. Maybe she should put on a sexy gown.

At four in the afternoon? Who was she
kidding?

She glanced at the bed again. Now
there
was an idea. She unbuttoned her blouse and threw it
across a chair. Next she shed her bra. Then she tiptoed toward the
bed.

“Molly!”

She dived into the bed and pulled the sheet
up over her breasts.

Samuel came through the bathroom door. For
goodness’ sake, she thought. He was dressed in a three-piece suit
and tie. And here she was in bed.

He leaned against the doorframe and surveyed
the scene before him. Molly’s hair was fetchingly tumbled over her
bare shoulders, and a hint of dirt was still on her cheeks. She
seemed to collect smudges the way some people collect fine art. She
was holding on to the sheet as if her life depended on it.

“I see you’re already in bed.”

Don’t panic, she told herself. “Yes. I was
feeling a little sleepy.”

“Sleepy?”

“Yes. I thought a nap would be nice.” She
stretched and yawned to make her lie sound authentic. The sheet
slid downward. She grabbed for it, but she was nervous and Samuel
was faster.

In three strides he was across the room,
leaning over the bed and holding the runaway sheet in one hand.

“Did you drop something?”

She figured a real-live mistress would know
what to do when a man looked at your naked breasts that way, but
all she could do was sit there tongue-tied. It was
embarrassing.

“Not deliberately,” she said, and his eyes
crinkled at the corners. She hastily amended her quick confession.
“I mean... don’t you think it’s a little chilly in here?”

“It must be. You have chill bumps.” He pulled
the sheet over her shoulders and patted her on the head. “Why don’t
you take that nap now? You’re going to need your rest for
tonight.”

She thought she heard him chuckling as he
walked toward the door but she couldn’t be sure. It was hard to
tell over the rumbling of her stomach. It always growled when she
was nervous.

The door clicked shut behind Samuel. Molly
threw the sheet aside and stormed out of bed.

“Good grief!” She paced the floor, punching
the air with her fists. “Hell’s bells!”

She stomped around the room for ten minutes
before she began to calm down. Then she picked up the phone and
dialed her apartment.

Robin answered on the fourth ring.

“What took you so long?”

“Molly, is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

“I didn’t expect to hear from you, at least
not for a few days.”

“I didn’t expect to be talking to you,
either, but if I don’t talk to somebody I’m going to explode.”

“Is it that good or that bad?”

“Good grief, I don’t know. We spent all day
at the park, and then suddenly he decided to come back to the
hotel. Naturally, I assumed... that is, I thought...”

“That he wanted to make love?”

“Right. Anyway, he went to the bathroom and I
decided to undress and wait for him in bed. Well, I didn’t actually
undress... not all of me. I decided to take off my top so it would
look like I was undressed. I figured if he got serious, he could
handle my shorts. And then, of course—”

“Molly.”

“What!”

“Calm down,
cherie.”

“What am I doing wrong, Robin?”

“It’s not you, Molly. It’s him. I’ve heard
American men are very uncreative about sex. Perhaps he’s the kind
who has to wait until he’s watched the ten o’clock nightly
news.”

“Lands, I hope not!”

Robin laughed. “Maybe you can change his
mind,
cherie.”

“How?”

“Well, I’m no expert, but here’s what I think
you should do…”

o0o

Samuel was late. He had intended to be back
at the hotel by eight o’clock, but it was already nine and he
guessed Molly must be starving. Perhaps she had ordered dinner sent
up or had gone downstairs to a restaurant. He hoped so.

He set all his packages on the floor so he
could get to the key in his pocket.

He swung the door open to a room transformed.
Gossamer curtains billowed against his face, candles glowed on
every available surface, and the heady fragrance of perfume almost
made him dizzy. His entire hotel room was hung with gauzy curtains
and strewn with satin pillows—
scarlet
satin. From
somewhere in that maze of Arabian Nights paraphernalia he heard
soft music and the electric whirring of fans. That’s why the
curtains were blowing against his face.

“Molly?” The candlelight made it hard to see.
“Molly?” He parted the curtains and stopped short.

Molly was in the center of the room reclining
on a pile of scarlet cushions. He didn’t know what to call that
outfit she was wearing, if it could even be called an outfit. He
doubted it. There wasn’t enough cloth to make a decent-size
handkerchief – and so thin he could see right through it.

Forgetting his packages in the hall, he moved
closer. The door clicked shut behind him.

Molly smiled. He guessed you could call it a
smile. It looked like pure seduction to him. Every fiber of his
body stood up and saluted.

“I see you’ve been busy this afternoon,
Molly.”

Without a word she tossed her hair over her
shoulder and lazily patted the cushions beside her.

“Why don’t you join me, lover?”

He sat down.
Sank
would be a more
appropriate term. The cushions were soft, Molly was intoxicating,
and he did what any red-blooded male would do: he wrapped his arms
around her and lowered her to the cushions.

She stiffened, but only briefly. The minute
his lips touched hers, she was his. He knew that. No man of his
experience could fail to recognize the yielding of a passionate
woman. He did what was only natural for a man in his condition: he
fitted himself expertly into every soft curve and hollow of her
perfect body. Until now, he’d never felt naked in a three-piece
business suit.

Her hips moved. Whether it was unconscious or
deliberate, he didn’t know, and he was past caring. He ran his
hands down the length of her legs. Lifting himself on his elbows,
he pushed aside the wisp of fabric that covered her breasts.
Candlelight flickered over her creamy skin. With one finger, he
traced the pattern of light. Molly sucked in her breath.

It was that one small sound that brought him
to his senses. Not like this, he thought. He wouldn’t take Molly
like this.

He pulled that ridiculously miniscule top
back to cover her. Somebody ought to give him a medal.

“Sam?”

“Not that you don’t tempt me, Molly. On the
contrary, I’ve never been more tempted in my life.”

“But I thought affairs...”

He hushed her with one finger over her lips.
“We won’t be having an affair, Molly.”

He smiled at the look of relief that flooded
her face. Slipping an arm under her shoulders, he lifted her off
the cushions and pulled her close.

“You see, Molly, I’m in love with you. I
won’t allow you to be a weekend lover for any man, not even
myself.” He smoothed her hair. “I don’t understand why you’re doing
this, but that doesn’t matter.”

“I thought you would be so disgusted and
scandalized you’d go back to America, and then nobody would be
hurt. Not Bea or your mother or my daddy. We could all just get
along together and be a nice, sensible extended family.”

“Is that what you want, Molly?”

She pulled away from him and wrapped her arms
around herself, her face a perfect study in misery.

“I don’t know what I want. Not anymore.”

He kissed the top of her head then levered
himself off the damnable cushions.

“Do you mind if I blow out a few of these
candles, Molly? I’m afraid the room is going to catch on fire.”

“By my guest.”

He blew out the candles nearest the door.
While he was up, he switched off the electric fan. The floating
curtains settled down. Behind him, Molly rose from the cushions and
flicked on a lamp.

“I might have known this wouldn’t work,” she
said. “Not with you.”

“It worked all right. Almost too well.” He
crossed the room and took her by the shoulders. “Molly, don’t you
know how very close you came to being ravished?”

“Really?”

She sounded like a little girl who couldn’t
believe it was almost Christmas. He pulled her close and began to
caress her back.

“I’d like a repeat performance,” he said,
“in...say, six or seven weeks...after we’ve been married awhile and
I’m beginning to lose interest.”

Her chin came up and her eyes blazed. “If I
can’t hold your interest longer than that, my name’s not Venus de
Molly.”

It was the first time she’d ever failed to
protest marriage. He was elated.

“Well, perhaps you could save this Arabian
Nights fantasy awhile... until I’m a hundred and ten and
you’re...”

“You’re crazy.” Her laughter was bright and
happy.

“I’m crazy in love.” He kissed her soundly to
prove his point. After it was over, he had to take off his jacket
and loosen his tie to release the heat. He tossed them carelessly
across a chair—a first for him—and started toward the door. “Wait
right here, Molly.”

“There aren’t many places I can go dressed
like this.”

She waited in the curtain-hung bedroom while
he retrieved boxes and bags from the hallway.

“It looks like Christmas,” she said.

“It feels like Christmas.” He heaved the last
of the boxes inside and shut the door. “Fortune has smiled on us,
Molly. All the packages were still there, even the ice cream.”

“The ice cream?”

“Yes. And the cherries and the whipped cream
and the chocolate syrup and the popcorn drizzled with butter.” He
unloaded the boxes and bags as he talked.

As she watched, every item she had mentioned
in that backyard on Church Street came to light—a circus poster and
two tickets to the circus; three carousel music boxes, all playing
different tunes; a windup teddy bear dressed in marching-band
uniform and beating a tiny tin drum; tickets to the
Comedie-Francaise and the Opera.

One of the packages barked.

“Samuel? Is that a dog?”

“Poor little beggar.” Samuel lifted the cover
off the dog carrier and a small white furry face peered through the
bars. The puppy barked again.

Molly knelt beside the carrier and lifted the
miniature poodle out. She cuddled her face to his soft fur.

“A puppy! I can’t believe you bought a
puppy.”

Samuel knelt beside her and lavished his
attention on both of them, alternately rubbing the puppy’s coat and
Molly’s back. Eventually, though, Molly was receiving the lion’s
share of petting.

“I love dogs, Molly, and circuses and theater
and chocolate sundaes and buttered popcorn. It wasn’t until I met
you that I realized I could make time for those small pleasures.”
He sat on the floor and pulled her into his arms, puppy and all. “I
love children, too, but you can’t just go out on the street and buy
them.”

She chuckled. “I guess we’ll have to settle
for the old- fashioned way.”

“Molly...is that a yes to the proposal I’m
getting around to?”

She leaned her against his chest and smiled
at him.

“Yes, Samuel. Oh, yes.” She kissed him and
might have gone on kissing him until morning if the puppy hadn’t
protested.

They sat on the scarlet cushions and ate the
cold popcorn and the melting sundaes while the music boxes played
and the puppy cavorted among the gossamer curtains. Then they lay
back on the pillows. Between kisses they described to each other
the exact moment they had fallen in love.

“I think it was when I saw your gold-snake
sandals,” Samuel said.

“It took me a while longer. You were standing
under that painting of mine in Papa’s house, talking about having
once loved someone who broke the rules.”

“Let’s break a few rules, Molly. Let’s get
married here, in Paris.”

“You don’t want a traditional wedding with
our parents and friends?”

“We can have one of those, too, if you like,
when we get back to the States.”

“Samuel, I’m willing to break all the rules
for you.”

o0o

It was after midnight when he carried her
back to her apartment—puppy, bags and all.