The Spellbinder (13 page)

“X rays? I don’t understand,” Brody said gently. “You’re getting ahead of yourself, Sacha.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to be more clear.” She paused, attempting to marshal her thoughts. “You see, according to French law, we were safe from prosecution as long as we were under thirteen. The police usually rounded us up and took us to the station at least once a month, but they always let
us go. Occasionally they’d send us to the hospital to have our hands X-rayed.” She laughed shakily. “One of the miracles of modern medicine. Gino always made us lie to the police about our age but they could tell how old we were from the X rays. Anyway, the police were told that Louis was thirteen or older, and I knew Jacques would tell Gino. Jacques was Gino’s informant among us. He was given extra food, toys, and blankets in exchange for making sure Gino knew everything that was going on. I was praying the police sergeant would arrest Louis, but he let him off with a warning.” Her voice lowered to a level above a whisper. “And Gino was waiting outside the hospital in a van to pick us up. Louis disappeared the next night, like all the others when they reached thirteen.” She closed her eyes. “I was terrified, but I knew I had to do something. I couldn’t let them hurt Louis. I stole Gino’s account books and went to the police.”

“They caught him?” There was fierce satisfaction in Brody’s voice. “God, I hope they sent him straight to prison.”

Sacha shook her head. “He had the money to hire a good lawyer. Even though I was a material witness, he got only ten years. They couldn’t connect him with the prostitution. It was over a year before the police found Louis in a bordello in Venice.” Her lids opened to reveal eyes glittering with tears. “Poor Louis. He doesn’t talk about that time, but it … changed him. He won’t let anyone close to him now.”

“What happened after the trial?”

“The police found us a place in a charity home and sent us to school. We got on with our lives and trained for careers. Louis is quite wonderful at mathematics. He’ll be a financial wizard one day.”

“And you?”

“I was studying dress designing and doing a little photographic modeling on the side. I’m a pretty good designer, by the way.”

Brody had to swallow to ease the tightness of his throat. “I’m sure you are. When did Gino get out of prison?”

“A little over two months ago. We weren’t expecting it. We should have had another year before we had to worry about him.” Her lips twisted wearily. “I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. Gino always was clever. The police warned us that he was looking for us and gave Louis and me tickets and documents to get us to America.” She drew a deep breath and smiled with an effort. “There, now you know it all.”

He shook his head. “No, not all.” He smoothed back her hair and with infinite tenderness rubbed the scarred flesh behind her left ear. “There’s still one thing I don’t know. Why should anyone who has suffered as much as you have think she has to pay someone to keep her safe? Can’t you see that you deserve it? You’ve paid your dues. Let someone take care of you for a change.”

“You?” she whispered. “I can’t, Brody. Don’t you see? For five years I
stole
from people. I hated it, but I did it. I even made sure I was good
enough so that I could steal more than my share. That way I could give it to any one of the other children who didn’t manage to meet the quota. Do you know how doing that made me feel? I can’t steal anything ever again, and taking without giving is stealing.”

“Sacha …” Brody trailed off helplessly. She meant it. No matter what arguments he used he would never be able to sway her from her deep conviction. “You’re making this impossible for me.”

“I never meant to do so. I only wanted to help, Brody.”

“I know.” Tenderness moved through him in an aching tide. “I know you well enough to realize that now, Sacha. You won’t change your mind?”

She shook her head without speaking.

“Then it looks like I’m going to have to change mine, doesn’t it?” He kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose. “So much for nobility. You win, Sacha.”

“What?”

“You’re coming home with me.”

“No, I told you—”

He placed two fingers on her lips to stop her. “You want to give? Okay. I’m taking.” His gaze flicked to the double bed and then back to her. “I hope you won’t insist on our consummating our deal here. I had another place in mind.”

She was staring at him, her eyes wide, scarcely breathing. “You mean it?”

“Oh, yes, I mean it.” Something heated flared in the depths of his eyes. “I’m going to take you to
bed and let you give me anything you choose.” His lips curved in a reckless smile. “And maybe a few things I choose. I’m tired of fighting against my own nature.” He picked up her purse from the bed and handed it to her. “Shall we go?”

“It’s not a trick?” she whispered.

“You want proof?” He reached out and began to unbutton her white shirt. He unfastened the front catch of her bra and pushed it slowly aside to reveal her naked breasts. “Don’t wear a bra again. You don’t need one, and it will only get in the way”—he lowered his head with leisurely deliberateness—“when I want to do this.” His mouth opened and then closed over one taut nipple.

She cried out, arching forward as she felt his warm tongue teasing the hard tip. His hand cupped her other breast, his thumb and forefinger pulling rhythmically as he stroked her with his tongue. “Brody …”

But he wasn’t listening. His lips were suckling strongly now, biting gently and then soothing the teasing abrasion with his tongue. When he finally raised his head her nipples were pointed, distended, and as blazing as the color mantling her cheeks.

He stared at the swollen beauty of her breasts for a long time before his gaze lifted to her face. “Do you believe me now?”

She couldn’t speak, but managed to nod wordlessly.

“Good. Then we’d better get out of here, or I may change my mind. That lumpy bed is beginning
to look very inviting.” He fastened her bra and quickly buttoned her blouse. “Did you have a jacket?”

She gestured vaguely. “On the chair.”

He crossed the room and returned with the blue-jean jacket. “I think you’d better put this on.” His gaze lingered on the tips of her breasts pressing hard against the fabric of her bra and straining against the cotton of the white shirt. “Not that I don’t enjoy seeing you like this.” He skimmed his fingertips teasingly over her breasts and chuckled as he saw the sudden thrusting response. “But I’d prefer no one else noticed.” He helped her on with the jacket. “Once we’re in the car, it won’t matter. We’ll roll up the glass, and Harris is far too discreet ever to look in the rearview mirror.”

“In the limousine? You’re going to …?”

His lids half veiled his eyes, and he smiled with a blatant sensuality that caused her heart to skip a beat and then begin to pound erratically. “Perhaps someday. It might be very erotic. Today we’ll just play a little to increase the anticipation while we’re driving to our little love nest.”

“Malibu?”

He shook his head as he turned her toward the door. “Not Malibu. I don’t think I could wait that long. I know a place that’s much closer to the hotel.”

“The theater?” Sacha asked blankly.

The limousine rolled to a stop in the alley at the
backstage door. Harris hopped out of the driver’s seat and opened the passenger door.

“I thought it fitting,” Brody said quietly. “You didn’t like the house in Malibu, and you may learn a few things about me here.” He got out and held out his hand to help her from the car before turning to Harris. “When Levine and his men show up, tell them to wait here for us. We may be quite a while.”

“Sure.” Harris nodded. “You bet, Mr. Devlin.”

“It’s not fair to keep him waiting,” Sacha whispered as Brody’s hand on her elbow propelled her toward the stage entrance. “Perhaps we should—”

“No, Sacha, we are
not
inviting him to come in with us. Dinner is one thing, but I’m not planning a cozy social get-together this time.” He pulled open the door and stepped into the shadowy hallway. “They can all wait outside.”

“No one is allowed here now without authorization.” A short, wiry man with curly red hair was hurrying toward them. “You can’t—” He broke off, an apologetic grin creasing his thin cheeks. “Hello, Mr. Devlin. It’s so damn dark in here, I didn’t recognize you. The manager is stingy as hell about the electric bills between engagements. Now, what can I do for you? I didn’t expect to see you here again after the closing last night.”

“Hello, Billy.” Brody smiled with beguiling warmth at the man. “Sacha, this is Billy Bodeen. Sacha Lorion. Miss Lorion is very interested in set design, Billy. I thought I’d let her study the
Camelot
sets, if they’re still here.”

Billy nodded. “The costumes and sets aren’t due to be packed and shipped back to New York until Monday. They’re all back in the storage room.”

“Good. Then I’ll take Miss Lorion there to take a look. You just go on with whatever you were doing. We might be some time. Miss Lorion may become very involved.” Brody waved casually before pushing Sacha ahead of him down the hall. “In fact, I’m quite sure she will. Thanks, Billy.”

“No problem,” Bodeen said. “Just remember to turn off the lights or I’ll be on the carpet with management.”

“I’ll remember,” Brody said over his shoulder. His steps quickened as he strode down the hall with Sacha in tow.

“Set design?” Sacha murmured.

He shrugged. “Set design, dress design. It’s only a small prevarication.” They had reached a mahogany door twice as wide as an ordinary entrance at the end of the corridor. He paused with his hand on the knob to smile down at her with heart-stopping charm. “I did try to stick to the truth for the most part. I have every intention of making sure we don’t leave here for a long, long time.” He opened the door and stepped aside to let her precede him. “After you, love.”

She cast him an uncertain glance before stepping before him into the large, cluttered room. The ceiling arched a good fifty feet above the dimness of the storage room and was illuminated by only two narrow windows high on the north wall. The early-afternoon sunlight streamed through the
windows like two golden beacons, dancing motes of dust bringing a deceptive aura of life to the bold bands of illumination.

Sacha gazed around her with fascination as she took a tentative step forward. Secrets. Secrets revealed. Secrets kept. Painted background sets could be discerned in the dimness. Arthur’s tree, from where he had first spied upon Guenevere. The elaborate glitter of the two thrones might well be gold if one failed to look too closely. The battlefield tent from the last scene. The Sword Excaliber lying carelessly across the cushions of a stool.

“Not so glamorous close up, is it?” Brody followed her into the room and shot the bolt on the door. “It’s all make-believe, Sacha.”

There was a curiously somber note in his voice that made her turn and look at him. “Why did you bring me here, Brody?”

“I thought it might amuse you.” He smiled crookedly. “And I remembered it had the required equipment for what you had in mind.” He crossed the room, a stream of sunlight through a high window tangling in his hair and setting it aflame. Then he was once again embraced by shadows. “Come here, Sacha.”

Her eyes narrowed, trying to see him as she followed his voice from sunlight to shadow. “I’m coming. Where are you? I can’t—” She broke off as she caught sight of him.

He was standing by a canopy bed hung with white velvet drapes and a coverlet of matching velvet. “You remember Lancelot’s tryst in Guenevere’s
bedchamber, don’t you? Unfortunately poor Lancelot never got to use this bed before the guards arrived.” He patted the velvet counterpane. “It’s just as well; the mattress is hard as a rock. It didn’t matter because it was only for show anyway.”

“Are you trying to tell me something?” She drew a quivering breath. “I’m afraid I’m too nervous at the moment to decipher obscure messages. You’ll have to speak more plainly if you want me to understand.”

“It’s all for show. It’s make-believe.” He paused. “And so am I, Sacha. I’m not your brother, and I’m not King Arthur. I’m only an actor who probably has as little real substance as the sword lying over there on that stool. Maybe these props are more real than I am, because lately the only times I’ve felt alive were when I was playing a part.” He shrugged wearily. “I guess it’s the only place I feel I have real worth.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Sacha asked softly.

A muscle jerked in his cheek. “Because you deserve better than me. Listen, nobody cared about me when I was a kid either. My life was a little like yours as far as that goes. My mother and father were both too interested in their careers to bother about a child. But I wasn’t like you. Instead of reaching out to the people around me, I withdrew into myself. Then I discovered acting and I withdrew into that. You think you know me, but you don’t. I’m not sure there’s anything to know.
Sometimes I think I’m a ghost, a chimera composed of all the parts I’ve ever played. But you’re real, Sacha, and I don’t want to hurt you, dammit. Please. Change your mind.” His hands clenched slowly at his sides. “Because I don’t think I’ll let you go if we use this bed. I’ll keep taking until you get tired and send me away.”

She stood gazing at him, her expression one of almost maternal tenderness. How little he knew himself, she thought. He said he wasn’t like Arthur, yet he was exhibiting a remarkably similar taste for self-sacrifice. She felt a sudden golden explosion of feeling that thrilled even as it frightened her. Oh, dear, not this too. Why hadn’t she realized that she loved him not as a brother but as the one man to complete her? She
mustn’t
love him like this.

His stance was charged with tension. “Well?”

She should run away. It would be the intelligent thing to do. They were worlds apart. He might never come to love her as she did him. Yet even as she gave herself this wise advice she knew she wouldn’t take it. A short time with Brody would be better than nothing, and when had she ever relied on logic instead of instinct? She took a step forward. “I don’t get bored very easily. I think that’s the sign of a boring person.” She tried to smile. “And I think chimeras must be quite interesting once you get to know them.” She plopped down on the bed and bounced up and down to test the mattress. “And this bed isn’t really that hard.” She didn’t look at him as she took off her
jacket, slipped off her shoes, and began to unbutton her blouse. “And I think it’s rather romantic to be here on—”