Truth or Dare (19 page)

"Cold?" he asked, wrapping his arms more tightly around her.

"No," she whispered.  "I think our daughters have gone a little overboard."

"You heard them," he answered.  "They're playing cupid."  He turned her around in his arms and nipped at her cheek.  "It would be a shame to let all their efforts go to waste."

His lips were warm, his tongue was hot, and Rachel was lost.  He leaned back into the water and took her with him, drifting toward the shallow end.  When his feet hit bottom, he lifted her in his arms.  Without breaking the heated kiss, he located the steps and climbed from the pool into the warm night air.

At a darkened upstairs window, a curtain moved aside.  "Did it work?" Deb whispered, struggling for a place at the window.

"Did it ever!"

"Wow!"

"Let's get outa here before somebody finds us."

"Yeah, right."

The curtain fell back in place.

At poolside, Jared allowed Rachel's legs to drift to the ground.  When she stood, she leaned into him and he groaned.  The kiss deepened, became fierce, desperate.

"God," he gasped, tearing his mouth away.  "I can't stand much more, Rachel.  It's all I can do to keep from taking you here and now, witnesses be damned."

The pictures his words conjured behind her closed lids made Rachel moan.  "What are you trying to do to me?"

One hand roamed over her back while the other cradled her head against his shoulder.  "I guess I'm trying to make you need me, want me, the way I need and want you.  And I don't mean just physically
—
you know that, don't you?  I want that too, but I want more, Rachel.  So much more."

"Oh, Jared.  I
—
"

"Ssh.  It's all right."  Her heart pounded against his chest.  Damn.  He was rushing her.  If he wasn't careful, he'd scare her away entirely.  "You don't have to say anything."

"But I do."  She raised her head, searching his face in the dim light from the window.  It was time, Rachel knew.  Time to stop letting Hank ruin her life any more than he already had.  There were still parts of her past she may never be able to leave behind, but those were things she couldn't control.  All she could control was her own reaction to what had happened.  It was time to let at least part of it go.

She traced a trembling finger across Jared's lips.  "I want you."

For an instant, just for an instant, Jared froze.  Then his eyes lit and his arms crushed the breath from her lungs as he hugged her.  He scattered hot, fervent kisses across her cheeks and nose.  "My God," he whispered with a shudder.  "You don't know how long I've waited to hear you say those words."

She admitted it.  He couldn't believe she finally admitted it.  She wanted him!  But he wanted more from her.  When was she going to admit she loved him?

If possible, the kiss they shared then was even more desperate, more passionate than the one before.  Rachel couldn't hold her feelings in any longer.  Tears seeped from beneath her lashes and ran down to their joined lips.

Jared drank them in, then sipped a salty trail up each cheek.

"I want you," she whispered shakily.

"Rachel, Rachel," he said, somewhere between a laugh and a groan.  "Don't say it again.  Not now, please."  In spite of his words, he held onto her, pulling her tight against him.

Rachel moaned.  "The girls."

"Yes, the girls."

"They're only a few feet away."

"I know."

"We're supposed to be chaperoning them."

"I know."

"I'm sorry."  She nuzzled her nose into the damp hair on his chest.  "I wasn't thinking."

Neither was he, really.  If he had been, he would never have kissed her.  Whenever he kissed her, he ran the risk of losing control.  What he wanted from Rachel at that moment was inappropriate, at best, with a houseful of young girls to chaperon.  Still, he couldn't seem to stop.  He kept trailing kisses down her neck and across her shoulder, taking a thin black strap with him on his way.

"Jared."  She gasped.  "Jared, we can't."

His shoulders stiffened beneath her hands.  Slowly, he pulled the strap back over her shoulder.  "You're right."

For long minutes, they held each other tightly, waiting for the passionate storm to ease.  It took a while for breathing to calm and heartbeats to slow.

When they went in the house they used a different door than the girls had.  Neither Jared nor Rachel was ready to face a room full of inquisitive eyes.  In the upstairs hall, he held her close and whispered suggestively, "Hey, lady, you need any help getting dressed?"

She answered with a throaty chuckle, the tension draining away, but not the awareness, or the excitement.  "Not if I really plan on getting dressed."

He heaved a dramatic sigh and let his arms slip away.  "True.  Too true."

They met in the hall again a few minutes later, dressed, but with hair still damp.  He draped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her close against his side.  "I wish you didn't have to go," he whispered, looking deeply into bright blue eyes.

"You understand why I have to, don't you?"

"Of course I do.  I even agree it's best.  But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

The closer they got to the den, the louder the music.  They stopped in the doorway and Deb and Caro danced their way over to say good night to Rachel.  A few other girls, the ones who even noticed, waved.

"What time should I pick you up tomorrow?" Rachel asked her daughter.

"No need," Jared said hastily.  "I'm driving several other girls home, and I have to take the van back to Susan's parents.  I can save Caro for last.  When I drop her off, maybe we could all have lunch.  My treat."

Rachel watched the secret look of satisfaction the two girls traded.  "If you'd wrap her feet in concrete and drop her off in the middle of Lake Hefner, I'll treat us to lunch."

"Mother!" Caro cried, feigning shock.  "What a terrible thing to do to your own daughter."

"I must have gotten it from you," Rachel said, tweaking Caro's nose.  "'Night, girls.  Have fun, but don't tear the house down."

"'Night, Mom.  See ya tomorrow."

"'Night, Mrs. Fredrick."

Then a loud whisper, as Jared led Rachel toward the front door.  "Did you see?  Did you see the way he had his arm around her?"

"Ssh!  You want them to hear?"

A round of girlish giggles followed.

Jared kissed Rachel good night at the door, a kiss so full of tenderness and longing, she nearly wept again.

She drove home in a daze, a silly grin parting her lips.

*  *  *  *

If the next week at work hadn't been so busy, Rachel was sure she'd never have lived through it.

The 10:30 p.m. movie, which Jared was calling
The Early Late Show
, started airing Monday night.  The rating period, that event that comes four times a year to television, when audience numbers are estimated
—
supposedly scientifically
—
for each program, started Wednesday.

Thursday, Jared paced the floor, waiting for the unofficial overnight ratings to be phoned in.  He had a good feeling about the movie, but he was still anxious.  If it went well, other stations in the corporation might follow his lead.  If it went poorly, it would be a long time before he'd be able to try that type of program change again.

Rachel jumped every time the phone rang, as anxious as Jared to know how the movie was being accepted by Oklahoma City viewers.

Finally he stood before her desk and said, "I can't take any more of this.  I'll be in engineering.  The only call I want to know about is The Call."

Rache
l put her hand on his and offered him a smile.  "It'll work, Jared.  I know it will."

He stared at her a moment, then closed the door to the hall.  He walked around her desk, lifted her by her arms, and planted a quick, fierce kiss on her surprised lips.  "I love you, Rachel Fredrick."

He let go of her, and she fell back onto her chair.  In seconds, he had the hall door open again and was headed out.

Rachel sat there, stunned, staring at him.  He didn't mean it, she told herself.  Not really.  He was just glad for her support.  She forced herself to breathe normally, told her heart to quit pounding.  Jared Morgan was not in love with her.  It was just a convenient expression he'd used.

And that was the simple truth.

She wished desperately he hadn't even said it.

A half hour later, the call they'd been waiting for finally came.  Rachel watched nervously while Jared listened and jotted down numbers.  When he hung up, he stared hard at the note pad in front of him.

"Jared?"

He raised his head, and a slow, wide grin lit his face.  "It's better than I'd dare hope for."

Rachel returned his grin.

The sales and promotion departments held impromptu celebrations when they heard the overnights.  A few minutes later Jared located Rachel back in the film department, where she was congratulating Bobby
, the former page, on his promotion to film
and wishing him luck.

"Rachel, I need to see you a minute, please," Jared said.

"Of course."  She followed his brisk footsteps down the hall and into her office, then into his, where he shut the door.

"Jared, what is it?"

"I've just had some more good news," he said, eyeing her in such a way that she wondered if
she'd
think it was good news.  "There's another Bluejay slumber party planned for Saturday night.  At the pitcher's house."

It didn't take a genius to realize what he was saying.  They could be alone.  Just the two of them.  All night.  For a moment Rachel felt panic rising up to cut off her breath.  It was one thing to fall prey to his passionate kisses and indulge in pleasure on the spur of the moment.  It was quite another to actually plan an assignation.

She'd never done anything like that before, except maybe with Hank, when they'd first been married.  But she and Jared weren't married.  And he was asking her to make plans so they could be together, alone, intimately.

She looked into those bright green eyes, eyes filled with tenderness.  Right then she stopped fooling herself.  This was Jared.  The man she loved.  He may have been joking when he'd said he loved her, but she knew with certainty she loved him.

She smiled then.  "Your place, or mine, mister?"

Jared let out his breath and hugged her tight.  "I don't care.  Whatever you want."

I want you,
she cried silently.  Then she forced herself to more practical matters.  If she went to his house, the kids wouldn't know where to reach her if there was an emergency.  If he came to her house and spent the night, his car would be in her driveway the next morning, bold as all get
–
out for the neighbors to see.

So be it.  Her children's safety came first.  "Mine then.  I'll fix us a late dinner after the game."

"What about Mike?"

"He's staying with Freddy again.  It's already planned."

"Bless that boy," he said fervently.

*  *  *  *

By the time Rachel got home from the game Saturday
—
another Bluejay victory
—
she was a nervous wreck.  Jared would be there in an hour and a half.

What was she going to wear?  How should she act?  She was definitely apprehensive about the evening, but she wanted this night with him, wanted it desperately.

But she felt so damned dishonest, not telling him about her past.  She'd have to tell him, she knew.  If she ever hoped to build a solid relationship with him
—
and she did hope
—
she had to be honest with him.  Somehow, some way, she had to find the courage to tell him the truth.

A cold chill of foreboding washed down her spine.  He would find out.  One way or another, he would learn the truth.  She just had to make su
re he heard it from her first.

As if that would make any difference.

But not tonight.  Tonight was hers.

When he arrived, right on time, she was warmed by the look of appreciation in his eyes.  She wore a royal blue silk caftan that belted at her waist in front, and bloused loose in the back.  Dainty, gold sandals and bare toes peeked out from beneath the hem when she walked.

"You look . . . sensational," he breathed.

She thanked him, suddenly shy at the hot, avid look in his eyes and all that it implied.  His look of knowing promise reminded her just exactly what would happen here tonight.  They were going to make love.  She knew it; he knew it.

They were going to make small talk over a glass of the wine Jared had brought with him.  Then they would have a nice, civilized dinner, and more small talk.  Afterward, she would lead him to her bed, where they would
—
.