Mystique (18 page)

Luc frowned. "That's not your
color."

Misty was about to agree when the model
turned, and the color took on more cherry tones. "It might suit me,"
she mused.

"I don't want anything to detract
from the color of your hair," Luc said, reaching up to wrap a strand
around his finger.

Dresses, suits, and coats followed in
quick succession, but Misty's thoughts kept returning to the first dress she'd
seen. When the women finished showing her the garments, she asked to try on the
red dress.

It fit perfectly. Misty stared at herself
in the three-way mirror in the dressing room. "You were right, Mrs. Harrison,"
said Lois. "That dress suits you wonderfully. It emphasizes your glorious
hair."

Misty looked down at the dress. "I'd
like to show it to my husband, please."

The medium-heeled black pumps she was
wearing didn't look quite right with the knee-length silk chiffon that wafted
about her like scarlet flames. The many-tiered skirt was cut on the bias with a
ruffle that went from breast to hem, delineating her every curve.

Luc was lounging in a chair talking to a
salesclerk next to him. When he saw Misty he rose at once. "Darling, you
were right. That dress is sensational on you. We'll take it, Lois. And I want
all the accessories." He leaned down to kiss Misty, his smile wide, his
eyes hot. "Are you sure there's nothing else you'd like to try on while
you're here?"

"No, thank you, Luc. This dress is
all I could possibly want."

He nodded and kissed her. Misty watched
as he signed the bill, chatting with Lois, who stood at his shoulder laughing.
Misty's temper rose.

When they stepped out into the crisp
January day, she took hold of her husband's arm. "I don't know what you
ever were to that woman, but I do know she has designs on you."

Luc looked down at her in amazement.
"She didn't have a chance before I met you. She has a lot less chance
now."

Misty let out a sigh of relief. She was
beaming up at him as Melton pulled up to the curb in the Rolls. But Luc didn't
seem to notice that their driver had arrived. He was taking her into his arms,
his eyes alight with passion.

"Luc!" Misty stared up at him,
perplexed by his determined expression. "Melton is here."

"What? Oh, yes. Let's go." He
ushered her into the car and climbed in after her, keeping her close to his
side as he reached into his breast pocket and brought out a jeweler's case with
the name Carrier's inside the lid.

"A diamond pendant!" Misty
exclaimed. "Oh, Luc, it's too much." "I think this necklace will
go very nicely with that new dress. I bought it when I had your engagement
stone reset." His lazy grin widened as she gasped in astonishment.

"A necklace and earrings and two
rings," she whispered, studying the diamond pendant.

"The emerald in your engagement ring
isn't new. It belonged to my Grandmother Stuyvesant. I purchased the other
items right after Christmas when I decided that you were going to be very
special to me. Do you think the pendant will go nicely with your new
dress?"

"I think it would look exquisite
with a washcloth," she muttered.

"Mystique, what a great
idea! Tonight after dinner I want you to wear your diamond and a
washcloth."

Misty laughed and snuggled
closer to him. When he gasped she looked up at him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I've just
discovered what my favorite thing is." Luc kissed her hard, forestalling
further any questions. "It's your wonderful laugh, my sweet."

CHAPTER SEVEN

Married life was exciting! At least Misty
found it so. She was contemplating the thought as she bent over the keyboard in
the Edwardian Room of the Terrace Hotel. She smiled to herself as she thought
of Luc and how he would be coming soon to pick her up. He'd take her home ...
and make love to her. Imagining it sent a tremor of excitement through her, and
she hit two keys at once with her middle finger. Don't think of Luc while
you're playing, she chided herself, forcing herself to concentrate on the
music.

But in moments her thoughts had slipped
back to Luc. He held her continually in thrall. He had merged her life
completely with his. They had been married for only six weeks, yet Misty could
scarcely remember what life had been like without him. She performed only two
nights a week now, Tuesdays and Thursdays, and instead of playing until two or
three in the morning, she finished at twelve, when Luc arrived to drive her
home. Her breath rasped in her throat at the thought of going home with him.

"Hey, Mystique," Willis
whispered, "you just played 'My Man' three times in a row."

Misty looked up at Willis, biting her
lip. "I have to concentrate better."

"Not that it wasn't nice."
Willis winked at her.

She shook her head and gave a half-laugh,
half-groan. "No more daydreaming, I promise."

She switched to the Ravel Bolero,
welcoming the intricate fingering since it forced her to concentrate on every
nuance.

When she looked up sometime later in
response to a burst of applause, the first person she saw was her husband. Her
face broke into a brilliant smile. She had given up any pretense of acting
aloof with him. Although she hadn't said the words "I love you" out
loud, she was more committed to Lucas Stuyvesant Harrison than she had ever
been to anyone.

She moved her hands on the keyboard in a
complicated introduction to one of her favorite love songs, "Something Was
Missing," from the musical
Annie.
On
impulse she did something that she rarely did; she tilted up the piano mike and
sang the lovely words of the melody. Not once as she sang did she take her eyes
off Luc.

When she finished several people came up
to the piano and made requests. She played the songs they asked to hear, but
she didn't sing.

At midnight Luc left his seat and walked
up to her. He took her arm and lifted her from the piano bench, keeping his arm
around her waist as they walked along the hall to the small dressing room.
"Uh-uh, not tonight, angel," he said when she paused. "I had
your clothes put in the penthouse suite. You can change there."

"Luc, I thought we went all through
that. I don't mind that the—"

"Dressing room is so
small. Yes, I know. But I thought we'd stay here tonight and go home in the
morning, so I had your clothes moved to our suite."

"Why? I mean, it's just
as easy..." Her voice trailed off as she saw the harsh look on his face.
"Luc?"

"We've been married for
six weeks today. I thought you might want to celebrate," he said stiffly
as they stepped into the elevator.

"Oh, I do." Misty
slipped her arms around his waist under his jacket. "I didn't think you
would remember." She glanced up at him. "I thought men always ignored
those things."

"I'm not likely to
forget my own marriage." She noted a slight edge to his voice.

The elevator doors opened.
Misty kept her arm around him as they walked into their suite. "I didn't
mean to hurt your feelings," she said.

Luc loosened her arm from around him and
headed toward the bathroom, his back rigid. Misty stood looking at the closed
door, then walked over to the windows and stared out at the Manhattan skyline.
The bathroom door opened a few minutes later, but she stayed where she was. She
sensed Luc's presence close behind her.

"I'm sorry. I was hurt," he
murmured. "I didn't think I could ever feel that way—like a child."

She turned slowly and looked up at him.
"I know. We still don't know each other well enough not to be sensitive
about what we say."

"Smile at me, darling," Luc
said huskily.

"You always say that to me."
Warmth suffused her face.

Inch by inch he pulled her toward him
until they were lightly touching all along their two lengths. "I thought
by now you knew that your smile was one of my favorite things."

He nibbled on her throat, trailing a line
of tiny bites from one pulse point to the other.

"This happens to be one of
my
favorite things," Misty
murmured as Luc's mouth traveled over her bare shoulders. "You nibbling on
my skin."

"Another one of mine as well."
His answer was muffled as he lifted her up his body with one strong arm.
"I want you all the time." He sounded almost fierce as he swung her
up into his arms and carried her to their bed. "I like your sisters very
much, but I'm glad they've decided to stay with Alice and John most of the
time." His voice held both anger and puzzlement as he sat her down on the
edge of the bed and removed her shoes, then asked her to stand so that he could
pull the long silken dress from her body. "I love my work, but sometimes I
can't stand to leave you. You have such power over me." Ironic amusement
filled his face.

"I hit a sour note tonight, and I
played the same song three times, because I was thinking of you," Misty
admitted.

"I know. I was there." He
grinned. "You didn't see me. Don't be embarrassed, my love."

Misty loosened the studs on his evening
shirt. "Maybe we should tell each other more, not hide so much from each
other."

He laid her back on the bed—she was still
wearing her silky briefs—and divested himself of his remaining clothes. He was
holding the sleeve of his shirt when he looked down at her, his eyes appraising
her hotly. "Do you know what you look like at this moment, my child-woman?
Your red-gold hair looks like sunlight. Your eyes are like the most precious
jade. Your skin is creamy pink. Your breasts are beautiful." His rakish
grin almost masked the passion in his eyes. "And you have the cutest
bottom in three counties."

"Not four?" Misty teased,
thanking the fates that Luc thought her lovely.

"Mrs. Harrison..." Luc sat
facing her on the bed. "I'd like to talk further with you, but I find that
my mind can't hold any thought except how beautiful you are."

"Luc." Misty's body surged
forward with a passionate need to love him. She raised her hands to explore his
chest, tugging gently on his nipples, her energy building as she saw that he
was already aroused.

"I feel I should warn you that I
don't have a high tolerance for your loving," he said, his eyes following
her hands as she probed, caressed, teased, and touched him.

"Just be patient," she cooed.
As his body jerked and bent in response to her every touch, she felt consumed
with a thrilling sense of power. "Luc, you're so beautiful." She
squeezed the taut muscles of his stomach, then boldly let her hands slide lower
and lower until she grasped his manhood, massaging gently.

Luc groaned and reached out to grab her
waist. "Much as I love your sensual massage, darling"—he lowered her
fully onto the bed and leaned over her— "my restraint just blew apart."
In a feverish frenzy his hands and mouth ministered to her.

When he gently parted her
thighs to enter her, she was whimpering with desire for him. At once they went
up in flames, holding each other, calling out each other's name.

Afterward they kissed good night, their
mouths remaining only inches apart as they slept.

Misty woke once in the night with a
strange longing. But she was too sleepy to analyze it. Tightening her arms
around Luc's waist, she fell back into a deep slumber.

When she woke again, she was alone. She
blinked in confusion at the sight of the unfamiliar room, then remembered that
they had stayed at the Terrace Hotel suite. "Luc," she called,
masking a yawn behind her hand.

"Yes, darling, I'm here. Come and
take a shower with me."

Delighted, Misty leaped out of bed and
ran unclothed to the bathroom. She paused just inside the door to watch Luc
wipe the last traces of shaving cream from his face. "Oh, you're already
finished," she said, disappointed. "I like to watch you shave."
Her body tingled from the way he was looking at her.

"You do?" He sounded
distracted. "From now on I'll call you before I shave." He took a
deep breath and pulled her into his arms. "You're too much of a
distraction, Mrs. Harrison. Seeing you like this makes me want to cancel my
meeting this morning."

"You can't." She gave a breathy
laugh. "It's with the board of directors, and you told me last week that
it's very important."

"So it is." He sighed, dropping
the towel from around his waist and leading her to the shower stall. "I've
enjoyed my work since the first day I joined the bank after graduate school,
but when I see you naked in front of me, I could chuck the whole thing."

"Don't you dare, Mr. Harrison. You
have to support me."

"And the little Harrisons who will
be coming along." Luc pulled her forward and began to scrub her back with
the loofah sponge.

Misty clutched at him, stunned by what he
had said. Children! She couldn't have children! She'd vowed long ago never to
have them. What if she turned out to be a terrible mother like her own had
been? She shuddered. Why had it never occurred to her that Luc might want
children?