No Red Roses: A Loveswept Classic Romance (Santa Flores) (6 page)

“Oh yes, your Aunt Elizabeth,” he said absently, and Tamara had the odd impression he’d forgotten about the threat that had made her almost frantic with worry. Then his dark eyes became shuttered and he once more leaned back against the balustrade and smiled mockingly. “It’s not going to be that easy, sweetheart. I happen to be as protective of my aunt as you seem to be of yours. I’m afraid I’m going to need a hostage for your aunt’s future good behavior.”

“A hostage?” Tamara asked warily. “You can’t mean you’re still suggesting that I become your mistress?”

“Oh yes, I still intend that you occupy my bed eventually,” he said gently, his dark eyes regretful. “But I must admit you’ve complicated things enormously by appealing to my protective instincts. When I thought you were just a tough little cookie with a fantastic body, I was sure we could negotiate a mutually pleasant exchange of favors.” He sighed morosely. “Now I guess I’ll have to resort to a little blackmail.”

“Blackmail can be a very ugly crime, Mr. Brody,” she said, her voice shaking with anger.

“Just calm down, sweetheart,” he said coolly. “I’ve no intention of inviting you into my bed until you’re as eager to go there as I am. I like my women willing. All I’m bargaining for at the moment is the pleasure of your company for the next four weeks. I open in New York day after tomorrow, and then I go on a cross-country tour. I want you to come with me.”

“Come with you?” Tamara repeated, feeling as if she were caught in the center of a whirlwind. “You mean you want me to just drop everything, disrupt my entire life, and trail around with you like some sort of camp follower?”

“Yep,” he drawled blandly. “That about covers it. In return, I promise to leave your slightly larcenous relative to her own devices as long as they don’t involve Aunt Margaret. I’ll also promise not to bed you until you say the word.”

“You have it all worked out,” she observed dryly. “Didn’t it occur to you that I do have a career of my own? I just can’t abandon it to become your own private groupie.”

“I hardly think Bettencourt will be too enthusiastic about retaining your services after the debacle
this evening,” Brody said, a glint of sympathy in his eyes. “No matter how valuable an employee you are or how close you were in the past, I got the distinct impression tonight that he’s very fond of his Celia. If it comes down to choices, you’ll be out on your ear, love.”

She wondered uneasily if he were right. Despite Walter Bettencourt’s business acumen, he’d always been blindly indulgent in matters concerning his daughter. Was all the work and effort of the past five years to be wiped out in a matter of hours?

Brody frowned with concern when he saw the stricken look on Tamara’s face, and he moved instinctively to cradle her once again in his arms. “Hey, don’t,” he said huskily, as he buried his face in her hair. “You look like a little girl who’s just lost her favorite doll. I told you I can’t stand that.” He rocked her tenderly, while his deep voice murmured consolingly. “Who in the hell cares about Bettencourt’s job anyway? At the end of the tour, I’ll buy you your own flower shop anywhere you want to set up. How about Rodeo Drive?”

“Herb shop,” she corrected automatically, and then chuckled. “I think you actually mean it. One minute you’re blackmailing me and the next you’re giving me the most fabulous present imaginable. Are you always this generous?”

“It’s only money,” he said and shrugged. “I’ve pots of the stuff. Why shouldn’t I replace your doll, little girl?” His deep voice was like dark honey.

Tamara felt her throat tighten helplessly. This particular Rex Brody was much more dangerous than the sexy aggressor who had brought her body to electric awareness early this evening. It was so hard to fight his warm, touching, caring, and almost boyish sincerity. Nevertheless, she said huskily, “I’m a big girl and I buy my own toys now. I couldn’t accept your offer, Mr. Brody.”

His arms tightened about her. “We’ll work something out. I’ll advance you the money as a long-term loan.”

She shook her head, trying hard not to smile. “You’re certainly offering extravagantly generous terms for your bargain. You know you’ve no
real guarantee of getting what you want, don’t you?”

He tilted her head back and his hand stroked the curve of her cheek with sensuous enjoyment. “You have the most exquisite skin. It’s like warm satin,” he said. She stood quite docilely, still curiously content under that caressing touch, almost as if he had a perfect right to stroke and caress her. This remarkable man had the most extraordinary effect on her, Tamara thought in bewilderment. She would move out of his arms in a moment, she promised herself. But there was no threat in that gentle touch, and it was pleasurable to let herself be fondled like a beloved child.

“I fully expect to get what I want, love,” he said lazily. “We’re a highly combustible mixture, and I assure you I’m going to bend all my efforts toward a Fourth-of-July explosion. Besides, there are any number of women who are attracted to the glamour of the spotlight and make a nuisance of themselves. A beauty like you would prove a valuable deterrent.”

“And what if I resist your fatal charm and
refuse to occupy your bed for the entire month?” she asked curiously.

“Then you walk away with your aunt free and clear, and an exclusive little boutique on Rodeo Drive. You also have the satisfaction of seeing me with egg on my face,” he said lightly.

Her eyes narrowed. “I think I may call your bluff. I don’t think you’ll really press charges against my Aunt Elizabeth if I don’t go with you.”

His hand stopped its stroking and dropped to her shoulders. “Don’t try it, babe,” he warned so softly that Tamara barely detected the steely menace in his voice until she noticed the faint hardening of his lips and the dangerous flicker in the dark eyes. “I grew up as a slum kid on the streets of New York and I never learned how to bluff. If you couldn’t deliver what you promised, then you ended up in a gutter or a hospital bed. Don’t make the mistake of thinking I don’t mean exactly what I say.”

She twisted away from him with a little nervous shiver. How could she have forgotten her first impression of Brody? He was every bit the
tough, menacing stranger of that first meeting. He was all the more dangerous for the chameleon quality that allowed him to alter his personality at will and keep his antagonists in a constant state of imbalance.

“Oh, I believe you, Mr. Brody,” she said. “I’m quite sure you can be just as unscrupulous as you say. I suppose I’ll have to agree to your terms, but at the end of that month, I want nothing from you but my release.” Her mouth tightened. “You’re going to look funny with egg on your face.”

He smiled gently, his eyes once more warm and caressing. “We’ll have to see about that, won’t we, love?” He leaned forward and gave her a quick, impudent kiss on the tip of her nose. “Now I think I’d better take you home. You’ve had enough strain to cope with this evening. Shall I get your wrap and bring it to you here?”

She nodded wearily, feeling suddenly as exhausted as if she’d fought a major battle. And so she had, she thought ruefully, and a losing one at that. “Yes, please. It’s a black velvet cloak.”

He nodded and started off, only to turn back
abruptly. “We don’t have to leave right now, you know,” he said, his gaze searching. “You had a pretty rough time in there this evening. If you’d like to go in and get some of your own back, I usually have enough clout to carry the day. Being a celebrity has its uses.”

Her mouth dropped open in amazement. “You’d do that for me?”

He shrugged. “Why not? I’d probably enjoy it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t,” she said with a moue of distaste. “But I’m surprised you’d be willing to antagonize your aunt’s guests just so I could enjoy a form of very petty revenge.”

“When you agreed to my terms, you became both my property and my responsibility for the next month,” he explained simply. “You’ll find I know how to protect my own. I’ll get your cloak, and I’ll call off that date of yours.”

He was gone before she could reply, and she stared after him in amazement. The terrace seemed suddenly terribly empty and lifeless now that his vital presence was gone, and she felt oddly weak and defenseless. Which was utterly
absurd, she assured herself firmly. It must be weariness and discouragement that were making her so foolish.

Brody was back in the space of a few minutes and he took charge again with the almost royal confidence she was becoming accustomed to. Draping the black velvet cloak around her, he buttoned it carefully while she stared at him bemusedly, feeling like a small child being readied for Sunday School.

A little of that fugitive amusement must have been reflected on her face, for when he’d finished he looked up with a mischievous grin. “Sorry to be so slow, sweetheart. I promise you I’m much more dexterous at getting a lady
out
of her clothes.”

She just bet he was. Even when dampened down that virile magnetism was almost overpoweringly potent, and combined with the wealth and glamour surrounding his profession, he would be practically irresistible to women. For some reason this thought irritated her exceedingly, and she maintained a remote silence
while he whisked her along the flagstone path around to the front of the house.

A silver Ferrari was waiting at the front entrance. A servant jumped out of the driver’s seat and handed Brody the car keys, then with flattering obsequiousness helped Tamara into the passenger seat. The wine plush velvet upholstery of the sports car was as luxurious as the car’s exterior, and she sank into the cushioned softness with a sigh of relief. This macabre evening was almost at an end and she could feel fatigue wrap her in a numb lassitude.

Brody shot a concerned glance at the mauve shadows beneath her violet eyes, which gave her face a haunting fragility. “Try to relax,” Brody ordered as he put the car in gear and started down the circular driveway. “As I recall, it’s about a thirty-minute drive.” He patted the steering wheel affectionately. “And Ole Dobbin knows the way home.”

She had to smile at the absurdity of comparing this sleek, futuristic monster with a farm horse, and she leaned her head back obediently on the headrest. The motion of the car was
smooth and effortless, and the powerful motor purred with the hypnotic growl of a jungle cat. It was rather like its owner in that respect, Tamara thought. Sleek, compact, graceful, and very, very danger.…

Aunt Elizabeth had definitely put too much starch in the pillowcases and they had a strange musky odor, most unlike their usual fresh, outdoor scent. Worst of all, the pillow was hard and lumpy. Tamara burrowed deeper into its depths, but it was really impossible to get comfortable.

“If you don’t stop that infernal squirming, my brotherly attitude is going to undergo a radical change, sweetheart.” Brody’s amused voice reverberated beneath her ear.

She was so deeply enwebbed in sleep it didn’t even surprise her to discover that her pillow was Brody’s hard, muscular chest and that the car was now parked in front of the white picket fence that bordered Aunt Elizabeth’s house.

She lifted her heavy lids and noted inconsequentially that his lean jaw was already faintly shadowed. She wondered idly if he were one of those men who had to shave twice a day. He
probably was, she thought, faintly annoyed. The man was almost aggressively masculine.

“Your blackmail isn’t going to do you any good, you know,” she murmured drowsily. “I’m not going to sleep with you.”

She felt his lips brush the top of her head as he chuckled. “You’ve already slept in my arms. How big a step is it to sleep in my bed?” Then, before she could reply, he put her back into her own seat and opened the door. “Sit still.”

He was around the car and opening the door in seconds. To her surprise, instead of helping her out of the car, he scooped her up in his arms and strode down the flower-bordered walk to the front door. After the first startled moment of protest, she lay docilely in his arms. If Brody wanted to act the macho male, she wasn’t going to protest. Besides, she was finding it extremely difficult to keep her head from nodding once more onto that warm, solid chest.

After he’d set her gently on her feet on the porch, he took her evening bag, extracted the key, and deftly unlocked the door. She was almost asleep on her feet as he took her once more
in his arms and held her for a long, peaceful moment. His hand stroked her dark hair gently.

“Is it true what Celia called you?” he asked suddenly. “Are you illegitimate?”

She felt a thrill of shock jar her abruptly awake. She lifted her head warily. “Yes, it’s quite true. I’m not only illegitimate, but my mother deserted me a few months after I was born. I don’t have any idea who my father was. Does it matter?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “I’m glad you don’t have anyone else. It makes you more mine. I told you I was very possessive.”

“I have Aunt Elizabeth,” she protested.

“Ah, yes. I’m beginning to be very grateful indeed for dear Aunt Elizabeth,” he said, slightly mocking. “Now close your eyes, sweetheart. I’m not accustomed to behaving like a big brother, and I’m feeling the strain. I want something for myself.”

He didn’t wait for her to comply before he swooped down and enfolded her in an embrace that was anything but brotherly. Holding her to the strong muscular column of his thighs, he
covered her lips with his in a kiss that was almost bruising in its passionate intensity. From drowsy security, Tamara was flung headlong into a blaze of flaming need that turned her both boneless and mindless in his arms. His lips left hers to move hotly in a series of quick, fervid kisses that followed the line of her cheek to her ear, and then returned to ravish the softness of her parted lips as if they were starved for the taste of her. He coaxed her lips open and captured her tongue in his mouth, sucking at it for a long, breathless moment with a hunger that caused her to melt against him with a little moan of sheer animal desire.

Then, before she could recover from this blinding attack on her senses, he put her away from him. His breathing was hoarse and ragged as he opened the door behind her, pushed her inside with a playful swat on her derrière, and said thickly, “I can’t take any more right now. You not only go to my head but to other portions of my anatomy that have a decided will of their own. I’ll see you tomorrow at eleven.”