That Carolina Summer (North Carolina) (18 page)

“You and Marsha are going back to the hotel with me,” Josh growled somewhere near the vicinity of her ear.

The pressure he was applying arched her backward, giving her little leverage to kick at him. It was impossible to struggle, but that was his intention. Impotency drove her nearly to tears.

“Here.” The soft rustle of paper followed Josh's voice. At first Annette thought he was talking to her. “Tell your friend at the desk this should pay for the broken lock on the door.” He was speaking to Craig, and the paper sound she'd heard was money.

She was propelled out the door. Once they were in the outer hallway of the motel, Josh untwisted her arm but retained an iron grip on her wrist. She strained and turned her arm, trying to pull free as he dragged her along.

“You let me go, Joshua Lord.” Her voice was low and trembling, near the breaking point, but he didn't deign to reply.

Behind them, Marsha was half running to keep up. It was becoming apparent that she had defected to the enemy. First Marsha had betrayed what Annette had told her in confidence by going to Josh. Now she was allowing Josh to manhandle her this way without offering a single word of support for Annette's stand against him. Annette was desolated.

His car was parked in the lot. She recognized it as they approached. It was in her mind to break free when Josh released her to get in the car. There wasn't any way she was going to let him march her into her father's presence like some delinquent. But Josh knew the way her mind worked too well.

He motioned for Marsha to climb in the back seat. Without releasing his grip on her wrist, he pushed Annette into the car on the driver's side and made her slide past the wheel to the front passenger seat while climbing in behind her.

The second he let go of her, she fumbled for the door handle. “It's locked,” Josh informed her tersely, and turned the key in the ignition to start the engine.

With her escape thwarted, Annette glared at him through the stinging tears in her eyes. The thrusting angles of his profile were uncompromisingly male, showing no softness, no yielding. She had never suspected he could be so ruthless, so uncaring.

“I don't know what I ever saw in you,” she declared in a low voice made husky by the awful tightness in her throat.

Tearing his gaze from the street and its traffic, Josh shot her a look. “I don't see any halo above your head."

“You aren't really going to take me to my father. You're just trying to scare me.” Annette wanted it desperately to be the case.

“You need more than a good scare.” The hardness in his reply was ominous.

She swung her gaze to the front, staring blindly out the windshield. “I hate you.” There was an unmistakable tremor in her voice.

“Go right ahead and hate me,” Josh invited with cold unconcern. “It isn't going to make any difference."

“I must have been crazy to think I loved you,” Annette declared tautly.

“Why don't you just shut up, Annette?” Josh demanded on a harsh note, and shot her a silencing look.

The silence in the car became thick and oppressive. Sitting in the back seat, Marsha felt she was waiting for something to explode. The air was much too volatile. Her glance kept darting from one to the other, but they exchanged not a word or a look.

When they arrived at the hotel, Josh parked the car and climbed out to walk around the car and unlock the passenger door. As Annette stepped out, he clamped a hand on her arm. Again Marsha tagged behind them. She wasn't sure if Josh intended to carry out his threat to deliver Annette to their father. The doubt was erased when he led Annette directly to the suite occupied by her father and Kathleen.

At the door, Josh let go of her arm and hooked a hand around her waist to make sure she stayed by his side. Annette stood rigidly, but her flesh burned at the contact. It was too familiar, too possessive. It reminded her of things that it was better not to recall.

“You have no right to do this,” she hissed.

Josh merely looked at her, his dark eyes hard as ironwood. His curled fingers rapped on the door with firm authority. At the sound of someone stirring inside, Annette made an involuntary move to avoid this confrontation with her father, but the arm around her waist tightened. Her body was brought against the male length of his. She felt the involuntary reaction of her senses.

“Who is it?” Her father's voice requested identification before he would open the door.

“It's Josh Lord.” He raised his voice slightly. “I have your daughter with me.” He failed to mention Marsha, hovering in the background.

The door swung inward and Annette's gaze ricocheted away from any contact with her father's. She had glimpsed his frown of disapproval at the sight of the two of them together. She didn't want to contemplate his reaction when he learned why they were there.

“What is this?” he demanded. “What's going on here?"

“May we come in?” Josh requested tersely, ignoring the questions. “Your daughter has something she'd like to tell you."

With grudging acceptance, her father moved out of the door to silently admit them. Josh pushed her inside. After initially offering a stiff resistance, Annette walked farther into the room on her own accord. Both her father and Kathleen were in their robes.

“There was something you wanted to tell me,” her father prompted.

“No.” She sat down in a chair and crossed her arms, sending Josh a belligerent look. “I never said that."

“Your father has a right to know where you went tonight, Annette,” Josh stated with a narrowed look.

“You went out?” Her father shot her a look of surprise.

She stubbornly refused to answer. There was such a thing as self-incrimination. Josh walked over to her chair and bent down, resting a hand on either armrest and forcing her to meet his look.

“Either you tell him or I will,” he warned.

“It's none of his business—or yours!” she flashed, because her only protection was anger.

“All right. If that's the way you want it.” Josh straightened and turned to face her father. “Annette visited a motel tonight in the company of one of the waiters from this hotel."

“What?” Her father practically exploded. It took every ounce of her control not to visibly wince. “How do you know this?” he demanded.

“Because Marsha came and told me where Annette had gone,” Josh replied evenly.

At the mention of his younger daughter, Jordan Long turned on her with a glowering look. “You knew about this?"

Marsha had been impelled into the suite by curiosity and concern, but she hadn't really expected to be on the receiving end of her father's anger. She hesitantly returned his angry look.

“Yes, I knew,” she admitted. “Annette told me."

“Why didn't you come tell me?” There was a whiteness to the line of his jaw.

“Because...” Marsha hedged. “I was afraid you'd lose your temper and ... you and Annette would quarrel again. So I went to Josh ... to see if he would stop her."

Annette struggled against the sensation of dread as her father turned back to her. She couldn't face the angry disgust in his eyes.

“You have some explaining to do, Annette,” he stated harshly. “And you can start right now. Who is this man you were with?"

“His name is Craig,” she retorted, and pushed out of the chair, the turmoil inside becoming more than she could contain. “I don't see what all this fuss is about,” she bluffed. “Nothing happened!” Her hands sliced the air in emphasis of the assertion.

“You go to a motel room with a man and I'm not supposed to be upset about that?!” her father challenged.

“It's none of your affair what I do!” Annette retaliated, then included everyone in the room. “No one asked any of you to interfere."

Kathleen stepped forward, her hazel eyes soft with concern. “Why did you do it, Annette? Why did you go there with him?"

The gentleness of her stepmother's voice almost proved to be her undoing. It was the first real promise of sympathy she'd received.

She lowered her head in remorse, her voice becoming husky when she answered, “I thought it was what I wanted to do."

“And it turned out that it wasn't,” Kathleen guessed.

Annette started to admit it until she caught Josh watching her with his expressionless dark eyes. Her glance fell away from him.

“Josh came before anything happened,” she said tightly, and refused to clear herself.

The stubborn streak in Annette wouldn't allow her to confess that she had changed her mind before he arrived. He might interpret it to mean that he was the only one she wanted to make love to her. She didn't want him to know she'd got cold feet at the last minute. She wanted him to feel partially to blame for rejecting her.

“Thank God for that,” her father muttered, but he was partially interrupted by a knock at the door. Swearing under his breath, he strode across the room to answer it.

A respite was the last thing Annette wanted. Her legs were shaking and she felt sick. She wanted to crawl off in some corner and die. Returning to the chair, she sank onto its support as her father opened the door.

“Mr. Long?” The male voice that traveled into the suite lifted her head. Her first thought was that it was impossible; it couldn't be Craig.

“Yes,” her father replied abruptly.

“I'm Craig Fulton,” he identified himself, then went quickly on to why he was there. “I was with your daughter tonight. I knocked on her door to make sure she got back all right, but nobody answered. I wondered if—"

“You are the one she was with?” her father demanded.

“Yes, sir,” Craig's voice admitted. “Is she here?"

“Yes.” It was a terse answer, thick with anger.

“May I come in, sir?” he requested. “I'd like to explain what happened."

“By all means.” The agreement was almost a challenge as her father swung the door wide to admit him.

A sinking feeling went through Annette. She had no idea what Craig had to explain. All the facts damned her. She realized that he was obviously intent on clearing himself, probably so he wouldn't lose his job at the hotel. Her glance went to Josh. He was watching her instead of the activity at the door. She looked just as quickly away, fully aware of his low opinion of her.

“Are you all right, Annette?” Craig asked, as if he were concerned about her welfare.

When she looked at him she saw the nervousness beneath his handsome features. Whatever flaws Craig might have, lack of courage wasn't one of them. Except Annette wasn't sure whether he was being brave or stupid coming here like this.

“I'm fine.” Her answer was a little clipped. “What are you doing here?” Couldn't he see she was in enough trouble?

“I wanted to be sure you got back okay,” he said, repeating the explanation he'd given her father at the door. His glance slid to Josh. The line of his mouth continued to remain grim and his alert gaze missed nothing.

“You were going to explain about tonight, Mr. Fulton,” her father reminded Craig of his statement in a challenging tone.

“Yes, sir,” Craig reaffirmed, angling his stand to face both Annette and her father. His attitude was very respectful, his posture erect. “I know how it probably must seem, Annette and I alone in a motel room, but we just wanted privacy to talk over some things."

“And you were ‘talking’ when I came in?” Josh taunted. “That's why Annette was in her slip and you had your shirt off. I suppose you were just getting comfortable."

Annette didn't have to look; she could feel the censorious gray of her father's eyes pillorying her. She felt small, and glared her resentment at Josh for adding another piece of damning information.

“Why are you still here?” she demanded of him, her voice taut and brittle. “Nobody asked you to stay, Joshua Lord, so why don't you just get out of here? This has nothing to do with you."

“Don't compound your problems with rudeness, Annette,” her father stated, and swung a grim look at Josh. “You're welcome to stay, Mr. Lord. In fact, I prefer that you do."

“Thank you.” Josh inclined his head in quiet deference to her father's authority over this situation. When his dark glance returned to Annette, there was a mocking gleam in it that was glittery and hard.

With that issue settled, her father brought the focus back to Craig. “I believe we left off with you and Annette half-undressed to have your private ‘talk.’”

In the face of such evidence, Craig couldn't very well persist in his claim that it had all been innocent. Annette was partially relieved when he didn't try. It would have insulted her father's intelligence and made the situation worse if he had.

“Sir, I admit that I thought Annette might let me make love to her,” he confessed. “You have only my word that when Mr. Lord arrived at the motel, Annette had already refused me. I respect your daughter, sir, and I care about her a great deal. That's why I came tonight. And I hope that my being here proves that I'm telling the truth. Annette felt it was wrong."

There was a lessening of tension in the air, as if her father breathed easier, but it didn't last long for Annette. Almost instantly she was under attack from Josh.

“Is that true?” He wasn't taking Craig's word for it. He demanded hers.