Nights in White Satin: A Loveswept Classic Romance (14 page)

“I didn’t know you knew the Colonel,” she said to her friend. “Did you meet him when he was over in the States?”

Annalissa shook her head. “No. He’s a friend of the Youngs.” The older couple, Jill thought, remembering the introductions of the previous day. Annalissa went on. “He and John have been talking about doing some kind of import business. Bringing Rolls-Royces to the States, I think.”

“Oh.” Jill shrugged as if uninterested, although she guessed the Colonel was in the midst of a con. That would make her job a little harder.

“Don’t tell me you’re interested in him, rather than that hunk you brought with you?”

Jill choked. She made Rick sound like a wedge of day-old bread. “No, just being nosy.”

Annalissa grinned. “Then you
are
interested in Rick Kitteridge. I really wasn’t sure, so I put you in adjoining rooms—”

“Adjoining rooms!” Jill squawked, shocked at the idea. She glanced wildly around, realizing that the door she thought was a walk-in closet was actually an access to the next bedroom.

“Would you rather be together?” Annalissa asked.

“No!” Jill pushed away her astonishment and got hold of herself. “I’m just traveling with Rick’s grandmother, as a kind of favor to her. That’s all. How about if I just move to that other room …”

“Just say no, Jill. Surely that will be easy, since you’re not interested. Besides, I’ll need the room for unexpected guests. There’s bound to be one or two who can’t make it home.” Annalissa grinned like a cat as she strolled to the door leading to the hallway. “Come down for drinks when you’re ready. We’ll all be waiting.”

She glided out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Jill rolled her eyes. Everybody was a comedian.

She turned and stared at the “closet” door. Tendrils of fear feathered through her when she considered how thin the wood seemed. Too thin to hold back what was beyond, she was sure. This was a complication she hadn’t even considered. Annalissa’s comment about just saying no came back to her.

Yes seemed all too easy.

* * *

“… and did you hear about the gentleman cat burglar who’s at the races this year, Elliot? He’s robbed two houses already. Wouldn’t it be fun if he comes here?”

“He could retire on the loot here, old lad.”

Rick glanced around at the farewell regatta party. The conversations were amazing, including the one taking place near him. The jovial, even raucous mood indicated this had been a successful race year with no regrets. A number of people he knew were there, and several visiting Americans. Everyone was trussed to the nines, including himself.

He tugged at the restricting collar of his starched shirt and wondered why Americans thought it a kick to dress up like Lord Peter Wimsey. It was easy to spot Jill in the elegant crowd, though. No other woman had quite her charm and vitality. Her strapless midnight blue cocktail dress shimmered with beads and sequins, the bodice cut impossibly low while the material curved up and around, precariously cupping her flesh before ending in a point above each breast. Her heavy brown hair looked almost chestnut in the light, and she’d pulled it back in a chignon, revealing the delicate line of her jaw. What the high heels did for her trim ankles and calves was enough to make him a leg man.

Hell, he thought in amusement, he was an all-over man when it came to Jill.

But it was the ring of white fire around her throat that drew the eye. Diamonds set in an old-fashioned pattern glimmered brightly before ending in a large pendant nestled just at the cleft of her breasts. Fabulously expensive diamonds, he
had no doubt. The faceted pendant had to be at least ten carats. The stones seemed to draw warmth from her flesh, just as they should.

He wondered at her wisdom in bringing the necklace, then dismissed it at the thought that tonight she would be in the bedroom next to his. So close. The vision of Jill in his bed, wrapped in the white satin sheets Annalissa had innocently and temptingly provided, whirled through his brain. He wanted her so badly—wanted to strip away the clinging dress and the sexy heels, wanted to strip away the black silken stockings to reveal the inviting flesh underneath. He wanted a night in white satin with her.

He realized Jill and her diamonds were drawing more than his eye. Not a gentleman cat burglar, but something more dangerous, he thought, as he noticed several men taking an interest in her. He finished mixing their drinks at the portable bar and walked back to her. There was no hurry in his step, just a proprietary determination that was self-confident in its claim. He could almost see the interest in her fade. Certainly, he could sense the men in the knot of people she was with “retreating” some distance, even though they never moved.

“Here,” he said in a low voice while handing over her drink. It was her fifth Perrier of the night. Jill was a very thirsty lady.

She smiled her thanks, then took a sip.

“… and the lion came rushin’ at me. Biggest brute I ever saw. Jolly well intended to have me for his dinner, I say.…”

Colonel Fitchworth-Leeds was still holding court with his long-winded stories. He certainly
had a pile full of them, Rick thought. The man had been going strong since dinner. Rick noticed his audience was mostly Americans. He supposed the Colonel was harmless enough, although he didn’t care for him. Too stereotypically British for his taste.

To his surprise, Jill asked, in an awed voice, “Did the lion get you?”

The Colonel guffawed. “Shot him at close range right between the eyes. Brute dropped at my feet.”

Rick’s jaw tightened at the callous words. He could feel a shudder run through Jill.

“I would have been so scared,” she said.

The Colonel gave her a toothy grin. “You have to stand your ground with these cats. They need to know who’s the boss.”

Jill nodded, then shivered visibly. “I suppose. But they’re so pretty—”

“They’re lazy creatures. Anyone on the veldt will tell you they’d kill the livestock every time if we let ’em,” Fitchworth-Leeds said, interrupting her.

Jill nodded again.

Rick blinked in surprise. He could not imagine this woman who worked to conserve wild animals would literally stand still for a hunter’s stories. This couldn’t be the same Jill who had raced downstairs in her nightgown in a desperate attempt to glimpse his gentle family of foxes. That Jill would have told the Colonel off—if she didn’t shoot him right on the spot. Now that he thought about it, though, she’d been part of the Colonel’s faithful audience all night.

The Colonel launched into another story, this one about his import car business. Rick leaned over Jill, inhaled with pleasure the light scent of
her perfume, and whispered, “Would you like to go for a walk?”

She turned her head slightly. Her lips, so near, curved into a smile. “I’d love to … but after the Colonel’s done.”

Rick almost growled in his frustration. “But he’ll go on forever. We’ll all be dead and buried by the time he’s done.”

“Shhh.” But she giggled. “I know, but I want to hear about the cars. I could use a good investment.”

“Invest in blue-chip, my girl. It’s safer.”

Still, he straightened and listened. The Colonel was obviously unaware of their little conversation. At least, he hadn’t stopped talking once. If Jill were considering investing, then he ought to listen, if only to know where he needed to head her off.

He couldn’t say the Colonel had actually recommended anything that didn’t sound legitimate. The problem was he didn’t know if the Colonel
was
legitimate. At least the Colonel hadn’t recommended himself, a mark in his favor. Instead, he’d made a point to say that he already had a partner in John Young.

However, there was something about the man that bothered Rick, although he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He decided to encourage Jill to investigate fully any business of this type before investing her money.

It seemed like hours before he finally was able to steer her outside. A glance at his watch told him it was more than an hour in reality. The house had French doors leading onto a patio,
with an open terrace to the back garden. The place was a riot of flowers.

Jill sat on the edge of a low wall and touched a planter filled with petunias, marigolds, ivy, and lobelia. “In the States we never think to plant a conglomeration of things like this. Either it’s one thing or it’s nothing.”

“We prefer not to waste the space,” he said, coming to stand next to her. He was glad to leave the noisy, smoky room behind. It was nearly ten and the sun had just set, one of the advantages of the long northern days.

Jill edged away from him. He frowned.

“I suppose we’re too rigid in our thinking,” she said. “At least I know I am.”

He leaned closer. “We’ll have to do something about that.”

She stood up and walked over to the other side of the terrace. “I’ll take a class in Renaissance thinking.”

It was a no if he ever heard one. Rick set his jaw. This wasn’t going quite as well as he’d hoped.

“I’d be careful of the Colonel,” he said.

She glanced up sharply. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, check out his investment schemes thoroughly before you invest.”

She shrugged, clearly dismissing his words.

Anger boiled up in him, hot and fierce. “Dammit, Jill. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” she exclaimed, wide-eyed. “What could be wrong?”

“You’re acting strange. You’ve been … I don’t know, not the same since we met up with your American friends.” He ran his hand through his
hair, not able to find the words to describe the change in her. Maybe all those drinks had been her way of trying to get rid of him. “And I can’t believe you’d tolerate a character like the Colonel, let alone be interested in his business dealings.”

Jill looked frantically around the empty terrace, then back at him. “Good grief, Rick. You come up with more wild conclusions. Don’t ever do a guest spot on
Jeopardy
. You’d never win.”

“At least I’m consistent,” he snapped, stung by her words.

“You’re being silly.” She turned and swept back into the house, leaving him alone.

“I’m being silly,” he muttered, spinning around on his heel and shoving his hands in his trouser pockets. “My backside,
I’m
being silly.”

Something was definitely wrong here. The problem was, he didn’t know exactly what.

Rick would probably kill her, Jill thought as she rejoined the party. She’d be lucky if that was all he did. But she had had to get rid of him. Earlier she had realized that the Colonel showed an interest in her only when Rick was absent. Although she couldn’t quite get her thinking focused in Rick’s presence, Fitchworth-Leeds had seemed to be buying her “like mother, like daughter” act. His gaze had dropped to her necklace several times, and she could practically see the wheels turning in his nasty brain. Until he would glance at her “protector.” Then the wheels went flat.

She hadn’t known what to do until Rick had snapped at her outside. It had been scary to hear
how nearly transparent she was to him. Still, she had seized the opportunity to turn it into a fight. He was sure to leave her alone now.

She was becoming very adept at lying to him, and she hated it. But she had no choice. Justice
was
up to just her. The Colonel wasn’t her only problem where Rick was concerned. That too-thin adjoining door was looming bigger and bigger in her mind. She wasn’t sure whether she was disappointed or grateful that the door would stay safely closed.

She touched the necklace at her throat and decided that if she were going to sacrifice Rick for justice, she’d better get started.

But first she had to find a bathroom. Five Perriers were a definite disadvantage when trying to get rid of someone.

Rick paced the bedroom, cursing under his breath.

It was after two in the morning, and the party was finally over. Nothing was turning out the way he’d planned. The entire regatta week had been a distinct success until tonight. Tonight had been a disaster. And all because he’d opened his mouth for a stupid question.

He’d acted almost jealous—jealous of an old, long-winded Colonel. No wonder Jill had called him silly. He had been. She’d stuck with the Colonel for the rest of the party, until it was obvious to everyone present that she was ignoring him.

He knew she was in the next room; he could hear her moving around, getting ready for bed.
He looked at his own, those damned white satin sheets turned down invitingly.

Cursing, he stripped off his tie and unbuttoned the vice of a shirt. The odd thought hit him that Grahame would have been proud he hadn’t done it before. His jacket had already been slapped onto the chair.

He glanced at the door separating him from Jill. He knew he couldn’t let them go the night without settling their argument. Every part of him was warning him there would be no coming back from that point.

He went to the adjoining door and tried the knob. It wouldn’t turn. He rapped softly on the wood.

There was a moment of silence on the other side, then Jill said, “Yes?”

“I want to talk to you.”

“I’m listening.”

“Not through the door. I really need to talk to you. Open up, Jill, and let me in.”

“Rick—”

“Please, Jill. I promise not to growl.”

He waited impatiently through another moment of silence, then the lock clicked and the door opened enough to reveal her. She was clad to the chin in a flowered cotton robe. He was all too aware his shirt was completely undone, exposing his chest. Primitive urges began to roil through him. He suppressed them, knowing this was not the time.

“I know a couple of pigs who fell for that line,” she said. “They nearly wound up in the dinner pot.”

“You think I’m the Big Bad Wolf?” he asked, grinning. He kind of liked the notion.

“Not really, except that you’ve been growling all evening.”

“I know. I wanted to apologize about that. I was … concerned for you.”

“Okay.” She stared at his chest, not even bothering to look him in the eye. “Is that it?”

Her coolness blasted him like an arctic wind, fanning his frustration into a white-hot anger and dissolving his common sense.