Sandra's Classics - The Bad Boys of Romance - Boxed Set (73 page)

‘Kiss me, ‘ he said, ‘kiss me, don’t hold back, not this time, not tonight, not with me, love, not with me...’ She fell back against the wall, her body seared by the heat of his passion. His lips were against her throat, his hands on her skin. ‘Let me love you, Shannon,’ he whispered. ‘Say it. Tell me it’s what you want, too.’

She gasped as his hands closed over her breasts, the nipples hardening against his palms like the petals of moon flowers closing at the first burning touch of the sun.

‘Yes,’ she whispered, ‘oh yes. Make love to me, Cade. I’ve wanted you for so long…’

Together, in a confused tangle of hands and buttons, they pulled off her sweater and corduroy pants.

‘Beautiful love,’ Cade breathed, ‘Goddess of the sea, open your arms, give your love to me...’

She thought of all the times she’d heard him sing those opening lines from Sea Lover,, yet never with such passion in his voice.

‘Beautiful love,’ he whispered again, and she lifted her arms to him, but he caught her wrists and brought her hands to her sides. ‘Beautiful Shannon, my love, my own... ’

‘Cade,’ she murmured, ‘Cade...’

He freed her wrists and shrugged off his shirt. Her hands reached for him, investigating the soft hollows and hard planes of his torso. A feeling of triumph raced through her as he cried out at her touch; there was something primal and exciting about knowing she could do that to him.

But the triumph was short-lived; Cade cupped her breasts in his hands and bent to taste her flesh, and it was she who gasped and cried out now. His hands were hot and rough against her skin as he slid the panties from her hips, and then he knelt before her, trailing kisses along the soft inner skin of her thighs.

‘So lovely,’ he said thickly, ‘so lovely...’

She cried out as his mouth branded her with his passion.

‘I love you, Cade,’ she sobbed, and even in the center of the whirlwind they rode she heard her words and knew they were true, that they would be true even if his were not, but it was too late to talk, too late to think.

He was naked against her, his hands cupping her buttocks, lifting her to him. Her legs folded around him and then he was in her and around her, each thrust driving her mind further from her straining body. And just when she thought she would die of a pleasure that transcended any she had ever imagined, she heard the hoarse whisper of her name as he drew her down to the floor and the world exploded around them.

It was like a child’s riddle, Shannon thought, trudging up the stairs to her apartment. What’s worse than Friday afternoon traffic in New York?

Friday afternoon traffic in New York in the midst of a snowstorm, that’s what, although that was stretching things a little.

The early December snow had quickly changed from fat, white flakes to a cold, driving rain that had slicked the streets with ice, and every taxi cab in Manhattan had done its usual vanishing act. 

By the time she’d finally caught a bus, she was wet, chilled and irritable. Only dreams of a hot bath and a hotter cup of tea had got her through the final slippery walk from the bus stop to her apartment.

‘Shannon? Good grief, sweetie, hurry up, will you? I am positively freezing my behind off out here!’

Hand on the banister, Shannon paused on the fourth floor landing and stared upward. Her agent stood on the landing above her, wrapped in a fur coat, looking like a large, unkempt animal.

What are you doing here, Claire?’ she asked wearily.

‘Waiting for you, obviously. Doesn’t  this place get any heat?’

‘It died this morning…’ Shannon unlocked her apartment door and tossed her handbag on a chair. ‘The first really cold day and the pipes commit suicide.’ She shrugged free of her coat and tossed it after the bag. ‘Take that thing off, Claire. You look like a wet teddy bear.’

Claire’s eyebrows rose dramatically. ‘My, but we’re in a good mood, aren’t we?’

‘1 am cold and wet and tired unto death of Alana Dunbar and Jerry Crawford and Rima the Prima. Do you want some tea?’

‘Only if you promise not to put poison in it,’ Claire said mildly, shaking out her wet fake fur and draping it across  a chair.

‘Sorry. I’ve been on the go since early morning.’

The agent ran her fingers through her damp hair.

‘Busy, busy, busy,’ she said. ‘That’s why I decided to wait for you here. I figured I wouldn’t give you another chance to put me off.’

‘I haven’t. I simply said...’

‘I know precisely what you said, Shannon. You said you were busy today and pressed for time yesterday and running late the day before and on your way to a class with Eli the day before that.’

‘It’s been that kind of week, okay
?’

‘I decided you’d been avoiding me long enough.’

‘Look, I haven’t been avoiding you. I...’ Shannon took a deep breath and turned to face her agent. ‘Let’s not argue about it, Claire. Why don’t you tell me what’s so important that you braved five flights of stairs just to see me? Do you want milk or lemon for your tea?’

‘Lemon, sweetie. I’m on a diet. Although I wouldn’t mind a cookie or two. Thanks. Would you mind sitting down, please? I hate talking to somebody’s back.’

Shannon sighed and slipped into a chair, ‘Claire, it’s been a long day. Rima was impossible—she had a scene with Cade that had to be finished before he left and she must have blown her lines a billion times. And Jerry snapped at everybody.’

‘Our hero left the set early again?’

‘What does that mean?’ Shannon asked carefully.

Claire shrugged. ‘It’s just a question. It seems as if the man’s been away from the studio more than in it lately.’

‘The show’s been getting a lot of coverage, that’s all.’

‘Morgan has, you mean. So what was it today?’

‘He had a shoot with
People
. They’re doing a lead story on him next week.’

‘Wonderful,’ Claire said pleasantly. ‘Let’s see, that’ll make two, no, three, covers he’ll be on all at once. I
bet that’s some kind of record.’

‘I’d think you’d be pleased. It’s great publicity for
the show.’

‘It’s good publicity for
the show. It’s great publicity for Cade Morgan.’

‘So?’

‘So, what’s wrong with sharing some of the spotlight with you? Why doesn’t Morgan take you along with him to some of these interviews?’

Shannon lifted her chin. ‘Come on, Claire, they’re interested in Cade, not me. He’s a star.’

‘Funny, but there was a time you used to turn that four-letter word into a real four-letter word when you said it.’

The kettle shrieked and Shannon shut off the burner. ‘I’m too tired to play games
. What are you getting at?’

‘Doesn’t it bother you that he’s getting all the pub
licity, sweetie? Especially since you’re the reason he’s America’s primo soap heart-throb.’

‘That’s not so. Cade turned out to be a good actor.’

‘Come on, Shannon. You made him look good, especially at the beginning when he was all nerves.’

‘He’s not like that anymore. He’s been getting terrific reviews...’

‘Tell me about it,’ Claire said sarcastically. 'Which reminds me—The ratings went through the roof again this week, did you hear?’

‘Yes, so Jerry said. That’s good news for all of us, isn’t it?’

‘Especially Morgan. He’s the one who’s getting the coverage. Seems to me he’d be willing to share a little of it with you.’

Shannon wrapped her hands around her mugful of tea, letting the warmth seep through her. ‘I’m getting publicity. TV Guide interviewed me, didn’t they?’

‘They’ll give you a paragraph, if you’re lucky.’ Claire pursed her lips thoughtfully. ‘Now, if Morgan introduced you to people, you know, if he showed them that the chemistry on-screen carries over off-screen...’

Dark patches of crimson rose to Shannon’s cheeks. ‘Forget it.’

‘Well, that’s why Crawford matched you two up in the first place, remember? God, they’d eat it up! They’d...’

‘Stop it, Claire.’

‘Come on, Shannon, you can’t fool me. I’ve seen the way you look at him. Maybe you can pull the wool over everybody else’s eyes, but this is good old Claire, remember? You don’t have to pretend with me.’

‘I know you mean well,’ Shannon said slowly, putting the mug down on the counter
, ‘but...’

‘
Look,, everybody knows you and Morgan have a thing going”

‘I’m not going to use my private life that way.’

‘Hey, I’m not asking you to invite anybody into your bedroom. I’m simply suggesting you make the most of an opportunity. I’m just suggesting what Morgan should have...’

‘Did you want to see me for anything else?’ Shannon asked coldly. ‘If not, I’ve things to do.’

The agent sighed. ‘Okay, take it easy. What I really want to settle is what comes next. This stint won’t last forever.’

‘It’s only December. You said this would go for months.’

‘Well, sure, I hope it will. But you’ve got to make plans for later—you know, trade on what little name recognition you’ve gotten. I told you I’ve had feelers from Rob Michael about that revival  he’s doing in LA in May. And then there’s  Shakespeare in the Park this summer. I can’t put these guys off forever, kid. You’ve got to make some decisions while they still know who you are.’

‘I know, I know. I told you, I will.’

‘Yeah, but when? You know what this business is like. Today you’re hot, tomorrow you’re not. That’s why you’re nuts to be so stubborn about this Cade Morgan thing. Let them know who you are.’

‘Goodbye, Claire,’ Shannon said firmly, shoving her agent’s still damp coat at her and leading her to the door. ‘I’d appreciate it if you’d call before you drop by in the future.’

‘Go on, get as huffy as you like. I’m still gonna tell you what’s on my mind. You’ve got an opportunity, use it. Morgan sure is. The word around town is that his agent’s been out there shaking hands and slapping backs and doing everything but hiring a skywriter.’

‘Goodbye, Claire,’ Shannon repeated. ‘I’ll call you.’

‘At least decide what you want me to tell Michael. I have to tell him something.’

The slam of the door cut off Claire’s complaints. Shannon let out her breath and leaned against the wall, waiting until she heard the sharp sound of her agent’s heels tapping down the hall.

Lord, the woman was persistent! And she meant well—but not all the good intentions in the world would make her trade on what she and Cade felt for each other. It was intense, it was wonderful—and it was private.

Perhaps it had something to do with the way they’d met or with the millions who watched their on-screen love scenes, but from the beginning, they had kept their love affair quiet.

And becoming lovers had changed the way they approached their scenes together. Alana Dunbar and Johnny Wolff met before the cameras now, not Shannon and Cade. The love scenes still ‘sizzled’— they were both good actors. Besides, the sparks they struck would always be there, no matter how professional they were.

But the real Shannon and Cade em
braced only when they were alone—and they were alone as often as possible.

Shannon kicked off her shoes and padded across the room. Her apartment felt like a refrigerator. She touched the living-room radiator and sighed. Still cold. The one in the bedroom was the same, although it gave a strangled gurgle when she banged it with her hand. The thing to do was get out of her damp clothing and into something warm, and then go back and finish her tea.

She hit the playback button on her answering machine,  then pulled her dress over her head. The machine whirred into life and Claire’s voice filled the bedroom.

‘Hi, there, sweetie. Do me a favor and call me when you get in, yes?’

Shannon tossed the dress aside and pressed the button again.

‘Uh, this is Jose. The superintendent? Uh, I need to get into your apartment tomorrow. To work on the heat and I can’t  ‘cause you got  your own lock on the door.  So maybe you could drop off your keys...’

I’ll be dead from the cold by tomorrow, she thought, hitting the button again. Quickly, she pulled on a pair of baggy grey sweatpants, a navy sweatshirt, and a Ragg sweater, listening while the machine clicked and whirred. Her feet felt like lumps of ice and she put on white wool socks and then added her Mickey Mouse slippers.

The glam
orous Shannon Padgett, relaxing at home, she thought, grinning at her reflection in the mirror.

She glanced at the clock as she went into the kitchen. Cade would probably be calling soon. He’d said he’d get in touch first chance he had. Picking up her teacup, she sipped at the liquid, made a face and tossed the tepid stuff into the sink. What was the point of making tea and drinking it cold? She sighed as she refilled the kettle and set it on the range. That Claire! She was impossible. Why couldn’t she simply be glad that
the soap opera was doing as well as it was?

Be fair, Shannon told herself as she took a box of tea-bags from the shelf. Claire had been a pest lately, but she was only trying to do her job. Even without the kind of media attention she wanted, Shannon’s career was on the move. There were doors opening to her now that had been closed before, and all her agent was trying to tell her was what she already knew.

Either you stepped through those doors quickly or they swung shut. Nothing in the theater was deader than yesterday’s hit.

The kettle shrilled and she shut off the burner. No, you couldn’t blame Claire for wanting to make the most of what was happening. It was just that nothing—not even the New York offer or the Los Angeles offer—was as important as Cade.

She stirred a spoonful of sugar into her tea, watching as the amber liquid swirled and eddied.

Still, she had to deal with those offers and she had to do it soon. You could only put off people so long.

How strange life was, she thought, sipping the hot tea. If the offers had come just a couple of weeks ago, she’d have been on the phone with Claire ten times a day, luxuriating in the pleasure of deciding which of them to accept.

Not that it wasn’t still exciting. It was just that she didn’t want to tie herself to three months in Los Angeles next summer or two months here in New York or anywhere else, not now. She wanted to be with Cade, and he wanted to be with her, and that was all that mattered.

‘There’s a little bistro in Marseilles that you’d love,’ he’d said as they had dined in a restaurant overlooking the East River. ‘It’s a madhouse during the summer, but it’s peaceful and quiet in the spring.’ And the other afternoon, reading lines together, he’d suddenly looked up and smiled at her. ‘Jack and Phil are going to open a place in Seattle next fall, did I tell you?’ And she’d said no, he hadn’t, and he’d smiled again. ‘Seattle’s a terrific city,’ he’d said. ‘You’d like it.’ And then, just last night, as they returned to her apartment after dinner, a couple of stoned kids had brushed by, muttering something vaguely obscene, and Cade had tensed. ‘We’ve got to get you out of this neighborhood,’ he’d said. ‘It’s too damned dangerous.’

The sudden cry of the telephone startled her. She was half-way out of her chair before she remembered that the answering machine was still on. Perhaps that was just as well; Claire might have decided to try another approach.

It wasn’t until she was rinsing out her teacup that it suddenly occurred to her that it might be Cade calling. Stupid, she thought, wiping her hands on her sweatpants and hurrying out of the kitchen. Stupid...

Damn! Of course, it was Cade. The machine whirred and clicked and then his husky voice reached out to her through the silent rooms.

‘Hello, love. I called the studio but they said you’d gone for the day. I'm going to be stuck here for a while. Do you want to meet me at Nico’s at eight or shall I come by  your apartment for you? Call me at 555-4180 and let me know...’

‘Yes,’ she gasped, snatching up the telephone.

Cade laughed softly. ‘A machine that responds, hmm? That’s wonderful. But it has to learn to make choices.’

‘Yes, I’ll meet you at
Nico’s and yes, I’ll wait here for you,’ she said breathlessly, sinking down on a chair. ‘Whichever you prefer.’

‘You’re a nice, obliging sort, Padgett. Has anybody ever told you that before?’

‘Not lately,’ she said, thinking of Claire and the argument they’d just had. ‘How was your day?’

Cade sighed. ‘Long and dull. And yours?’

‘Short and dull,’ she laughed. ‘The weather put Jerry into a panic—I think he’s driving to Connecticut for the weekend—so he called things to a close a couple of hours ahead of time, which was just as well, because it took me forever to get home. I didn’t really do much after you left the studio this morning, anyway. Jerry spent a lot of time doing camera angles on Rima. She was purring like a cat with a dish of cream.’

‘Good old Rima. Well, at least you had an easy day.’

Shannon settled back against the pillows and smiled. ‘Am I supposed to gather from your tone that posing for
People
was difficult?’

‘It was hell, Padgett. I’ll expect you to treat this old man very kindly tonight.’

‘Oh, I will, Mr. Morgan, sir. Milk toast, and tea.’

‘That’s not quite what I had in mind. I was thinking more of something soothing to the body and spirit.  Dinner, then  back to your apartment for some much needed rest.’

‘That’s what I’m doing right now,’ Shannon said primly. ‘Resting after a hard day’s work.’

Cade’s voice dropped to a husky whisper. ‘What are you wearing, Padgett? That blue teddy with the lace straps?’

Shannon looked down at her sweater-topped sweatsuit and her Mickey Mouse feet and grinned.

‘Nope. Try again.’

‘A black satin negligée?’

‘Uh-uh. Something even sexier.’

‘Don’t tell me—you’ve got your mouse feet on.’

‘Ah yes, Mr. Morgan. The feet that drive men wild.’

I can’t take much more of this,’ he growled. ‘I’ll be right over.’

‘Better bring your thermals,’ she said. ‘This place is as cold as Alana Dunbar’s heart. The heating system’s dead.’

Cade’s chuckle was soft and wicked. ‘I can be there in twenty minutes with a sure cure for frostbite.’

‘I thought you had to work late.’

‘There’s no sacrifice too great. Your health is my first concern.’

‘How noble,’ she laughed. ‘Well, how did it feel to be photographed by
People
? Even Rima was impressed.’