Heat Wave Page 9

  “Mmmm. Sounds interesting!”

  He chuckled and pressed her against his hard length so that the warmth of his body penetrated her thin layers of clothing. Excitement streaked through her, caused by his vitality, his presence. After a minute she asked, “Are they still behind us?”

  “Can you forget about them?”

  “Hardly.”

  “Yeah, they’re there.”

  “Cole, may I make a suggestion?”

  “Sure.”

  “Don’t race away, but lose them before you go home. They don’t know who you are, but If they find out where you live …”

  He groaned. “I think it would be easier to have terrorists or the Feds after me. At least I could give them a chase.”

  She laughed, relaxing, and lay her head against his shoulder. In spite of the harassment, the evening had been fun. Just being with Cole was exciting, regardless of what they did. She moved a fraction to gaze up at his jaw, running her finger over his rough skin, across the tiny bristles.

  Without taking his eyes from the road, he turned to catch her finger lightly with his teeth. His tongue touched her fingertip, sending a shower of sparks through her. She pulled her hand away. “Your attention might drift.”

  “It did. I’d like to pull over and take you in my arms. But I know I can’t with the goon squad on our heels.” He took a deep breath. “Luv, I have to leave town tomorrow. I’ll be back next week. I had other plans for tonight.”

  His last words did something to her heart. “Sorry, I think.” She wondered where he was going, what he would do. The thought of Cole’s absence left a cold, leaden feeling. From that first kiss he had been special. With each passing second in his company, he was becoming more important to her. He filled many of her needs. She wondered about his needs. His broad shoulders looked as if he could carry responsibility without help. Yet there was that defensive note in his voice when he talked about his parents. There were all the fences he had erected around his home. She wondered if he had barriers around his heart. Was his gruff announcement that he wouldn’t marry, a fence he

  put up to keep her at a distance? Was his implacability limited to marriage or did it include any degree of commitment?

  While she mulled over these thoughts, Cole slowed the car and stopped in front of her house. When the motor died, they could hear the high chirping of crickets through the open window. Cole peeled off his coat and draped it over the seat between them. “It’s been fun,” Marilee said. ‘Thank you.”

  Slipping his arm around her waist, he smiled. “There’s no car behind us.”

  She held him away. ‘There doesn’t have to be. I imagine my bushes are crawling with bodies, all ears for our every word.”

  “Well, damn!” He surveyed the darkened yard, the flowering shrubbery.

  “Cole, It was fun, but I can’t kiss you at the door in front of them. Well say good night right here and now.” She sighed with true regret. “I’m sorry, but I have to maintain my authority, my reputation. I can’t be the object of their jokes.”

  “Marilee, this is a nightmare.”

  She leaned forward to kiss him lightly. Instantly, his arm tightened with the inflexibility of an iron band, crushing her against his hard chest. Through the open window they heard a giggle.

  Marilee moved away, whispering, “Sorry. I better go.”

  Cole escorted her to the door. They stood in the darkness on the porch while he unlocked the door. Before he opened it, she grasped his strong fingers and squeezed them.

  “Good night and thanks for a fun evening.”

  “Talk about maintaining a reputation. This is a first for me!” he murmured. When she laughed, his teeth nipped lightly at her neck.

  “Just you wait!” he whispered, sending a shiver rippling in her.

  “Bye.”

  A chorus of voices suddenly shattered the quiet. “Kiss her good night!”

  Someone whistled. Marilee had an instant of stunned surprise as she peered into the darkness. She saw the pale oval of a face in parted lilac fronds. Bushes waggled and the face disappeared. Aggravated, she said, “See?”

  Cole placed his hand beside her head, barring her from the door. His other arm slipped around her waist. In a normal speaking voice that carried across the yard he drawled, “I think that’s the best idea they’ve had all night.”

  Her heart thudded against her ribs. She reached behind her back to try to push the door open. “Oh, Cole, no …”

  “Kiss her, mister!”

  “Cole, don’t you give in to them! I’ll never hear the end—”

  He stopped her protest, crushing her in his arms while his lips took hers in no uncertain manner.

  His mouth opened hers, possessing her in a kiss that curled her toes, that caused the roar in her ears to blank out the whistles and cheers. How long was he going to kiss her, she wondered. It was her last rational thought. Her mind was lost to sensation; resistance left her body. She melted against his hardness, wrapping her arms around his neck. Dimly she heard cheers, shouts, but the sounds blended, fading into nothing.

  On and on went his deliberate exploring, his plundering kiss. The air became rarefied, her breathing difficult.

  Finally he relented. Applause and raucous shouts filled the air while she stood dazed in Cole’s arms.

  With his arm around her waist, he turned and bowed deeply. “Now, you guys, how about some privacy!” he called.

  “Oh, my Lord.” Marilee whispered while there was more applause and a few ribald suggestions. “So help me, Cole! Do you know what you’ve done to my life now?”

  Opening the door for her, he grinned. “Wasn’t it worth it?”

  In spite of her aggravation and the knowledge that tomorrow she would pay for his kiss, she smiled. She stepped inside, turning to block him. “Now, go while they’re still around to see you leave!”

  Chuckling, he said, “Night, hon.”

  She locked the door and switched on the lights. Laughter shook her as she thought about Cole and their chaperones. She thought again about how much fun it was to be in his company. Yet if she had any sense, if she wanted to avoid a real heartbreak—because she was sure Cole had all the potential to give her one—she wouldn’t see him again except professionally. “Good thoughts, Marilee,” she whispered to the empty house as she heard the Thunderbird roar away. “That’s the same thing you said last time.”

  During the rest of the week, she took the teasing at school good-naturedly. Friday finally came and she turned in her grades and books, cleaned her classroom, and closed it for summer. With Cole out of town and unable to bother her, she got a good deal of work done on her book—except when she was daydreaming about Cole.

  On the Tuesday after Memorial Day, she stepped out of Ted’s truck and picked up a ladder to start work on the Chandler farmhouse.

  “I’ll tell him we’re here,” Grant offered, pushing scrapers into his pockets.

  Ted lifted down another ladder. “I’ll start at the front.” His paint-spattered coveralls hung loosely on his freckled bony frame as he shouldered the ladder and sauntered around the side of the house.

  Within minutes Grant reappeared. “Chandler’s not here,” he said to Marilee. “There’s a woman working in the kitchen. I told her we’re the painters.” He picked up the ladder and Marilee followed him to the back of the house. While Grant began working at ground level, Marilee climbed up the ladder and started scraping old paint, loosening it before they applied the primer. It was a miserably hot day, and her thoughts were divided between speculation about the possibility of heat stroke and memories of the last time she was at this house. Those memories unfortunately only made her hotter.

  During mid-morning a man dressed in jeans, a plaid shirt, and boots strolled around the corner of the house, pushing his wide-brimmed hat to the back of his head. “Miss O’Neil?” he called up to her.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m Charley Wil
liams. Mr. Chandler’s out of town today. He asked me to tell you his nephew Henry won’t be here until tomorrow.”

  “Fine. Thanks.”

  Charley turned away and Marilee continued automatically scraping the house, wondering if Cole had forgotten her. She had been trying not to notice the orange-cushioned chaise on the patio and the inviting blue swimming pool because of memories they stirred of Cole. She missed him. Far more than she wanted to admit.

  By the time she reached home at the end of the day, she was hot and exhausted and heading for the shower when the phone rang. Yanking up the receiver, she heard Jack Wilson’s cheery hello.

  “Did you get your balloon, Jack?” she asked.

  “Sure did. Thanks, Marilee. It couldn’t have worked out better.”

  He sounded too happy over a smashed balloon and a suspicion struck her. “Did Cole return your balloon?”

  “No. He told me to buy a new one and send him the bill. And not to spare the expense.”

  “Jack, he was supposed to return your wrecked balloon.”

  “Well, he can keep it or you can. I’m perfectly happy with my new one.”

  “Don’t send him the bill.” At that moment she could have cheerfully wrung Cole Chandler’s neck for giving Jack encouragement to purchase a new balloon. She braced herself and asked, “What did it cost?”

  Her knees almost buckled at the figure. “That’s enough for a DC-9!”

  “It’s a bit high,” Jack admitted without shame. “You must’ve really made a hit with him. What’d you do to get him to pay that much?”

  Rage burned inside Marilee as she bit her lip in furious silence. Along with her anger was a sickening lurch as she calculated swiftly what it would take to earn the amount of the new balloon. It was difficult to grind out her next words.

  “Send me the bill.”

  “Oh, forget it. Marilee. Chandler can afford it and he wants to. It’s too late anyway. He already has the bill.”

  “Jack, I can’t turn in an insurance claim if he pays it.”

  “Don’t yell at me. The whole thing’s your fault.” His voice deepened. “I’ve got a beauty of a balloon. A real beauty.”

  “Don’t you think you should’ve purchased something in line with what you owned before? That’s almost twice as much as your old one! It’s an astronomical figure.” Why had she ever been friendly with such a jerk?

  “You know he can afford any kind of balloon he wants. Is he in love with you?”

  “No.”

  “He’s sure willing to hand over a lot of money for you.”

  “Dammit!”

  “Want to go out tonight? I’ll treat.”

  She held the receiver away from her and glared at it. When she pulled it back to speak, each word was clipped and precise. “Jack, I’ll pay him for the balloon. You’re costing me and I can’t afford it. I didn’t wreck an expensive one and you know it!”

  “Chandler offered to pay. I’ve sent him the bill. That’s all there is to it. I’ll see you around.”

  The phone clicked. She lowered the receiver, muttering darkly about Jack’s principles.

  She pulled out her checkbook and wrote out a check for Cole. As large as it was, it didn’t cover a third of the cost of the new balloon. And it would take her within fifty dollars of her savings, but she was determined that Cole wouldn’t pay.

  For a moment she toyed with the idea of canceling her cruise. It had lost the magic it had held for so long. It meant separation from Cole. She brushed away the worry, knowing she couldn’t cancel. She had already paid for half of it and she would lose a hefty portion of her money. She had planned and saved for two years to go on this cruise with Karen and Gina. It would ruin their plans if she backed out now. She stared at the check. Why would Cole spend so much on her? Something warm unfolded inside her, a feeling that was so good when she thought of her moments with Cole. And with her memories came a longing that only he could meet.

  She called her insurance company, but the agent was out so she left her number and pushed away worry about the expensive balloon.

  The next day, while she was standing high on the ladder with the hot Kansas sun beating down on her, the black Thunderbird whipped into the garage and she heard a car door slam. Nothing changed outwardly, but inside everything quickened, her awareness of her surroundings heightened. She leaned against the house and continued to slide her scraper calmly along the boards, chipping off the white paint. When the patio gate banged open she slowly swiveled her head and looked down.

  Seven

  Cole stood below, one fist on his hip, a suitcase in his other hand, dark glasses hiding his eyes. His white shirt was open at the throat, his tie loosened, and his shirt sleeves turned back. His pale blue suit coat was draped over his shoulder. The lurch of her heart told Marilee how effectively she had her feelings under control, despite her casual demeanor.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “I had to go to Tulsa. How’s the scraping?”

  “It’s fine. Coming right along.”

  “Want a drink of ice water?”

  “No, thanks. I have a thermos.”

  He smiled and went inside. She climbed down, moved her ladder a few inches to the left, climbed back up, and continued scraping. Why did everything seem different now that he was back? She was conscious of her appearance—her faded cutoffs, ratty sandals, blue shirt and floppy straw hat—of the hot sun, the gentle breeze. All of her senses were sharpened now that Cole was back. Forcing her attention back to the scraping, she moved the ladder again and continued to work as the sun climbed higher and the summer heat intensified.

  She had scraped to the edge of a window when it suddenly opened and Cole appeared. His wet hair was plastered to his head and his coppery shoulders were bare. Only inches away, he grinned at her. “Hi again, beautiful.”

  Glancing at his bare shoulders, she remembered too much about him—his long tanned body, muscular legs, hard thighs. She scrutinized the board she was scraping. “Careful,” she said, “I may flick specks of old paint in your eyes.”

  “I’ll take that chance. Want to swim?”

  “Sony, I’m working.”

  “I asked your partners. They want to.”

  Startled, she paused. “They do?”

  He nodded. “And by the way, thanks, but I tore up your check.”

  She stared at him. “You can’t.”

  “I already have.”

  “If you do, there’s only one reason. Do you know what that makes me,” she whispered, teasingly, “if you pay for sex with me?”

  “You know better than that! I paid for the balloon because the guy was giving you a hard time, I can afford it, and I wanted to.”

  She turned back to her scraping.

  “Jack asked me what I did to get you to pay.”

  “Jack’s a real peach.”

  “I know. I don’t see film anymore.” She stopped scraping and looked at him seriously. “You can’t buy his new balloon, Cole. Let me turn in an insurance claim. I’m licensed and insured. It’ll be covered.”

  “I told him to buy whatever he wanted,” Cole said stubbornly, “so I brought some of the expense on myself.” He smiled coaxingly. “It’s too hot to argue about it right now. Stop scraping and come swim.”

  “I don’t have a suit.”

  The corners of his mouth tugged higher. “I suspected you might use that excuse. I brought you one.”

  “You’re joking!”

  He rose and she saw the ends of a white towel and the top of his brown legs. She shifted her weight as she watched him cross the room to a suitcase on the bed. He opened it and rummaged through it, dropping clothes on the floor. The sight of his almost naked body weakened Marilee’s knees and she tightened her hold on the ladder.

  He snatched up something triumphantly and returned to the window. He leaned out and presented some scraps of brightly colored material.

  “See. He
re it is.”

  “How did …”

  He grinned. “Come on. Knock off for a while. It’ll be lunch time soon. Swim and eat, then you can go back to work.”

  “It may not fit.”

  “But it might. Give it a try. Here, I can lift you in through the window.”

  He stretched out his tanned arms and his hands closed on her waist.

  “I’ll fall,” she said, tightening her grip on the ladder again as electric shocks ran through her at his touch. “I’ll come in through the kitchen.”

  “This is easier.” She started to climb down, but he tugged her toward him. “Throw your leg over the sill. I won’t drop you.”

  Holding her hat on her head, she did as he instructed and climbed safely through the window.

  As soon as she was inside, his arms closed around her and pulled her close.

  She chuckled. “This feels familiar. You, me, and a towel.”

  “Do you know how much I’ve missed you?”

  “You couldn’t have,” she said, resisting the urge to melt against him. How good his words sounded! How much she hoped he meant what he said. “Where’s the swimsuit?”

  He smiled at her obvious change of subject and released her. “Right here. I’ll help.” He started unbuttoning her blouse.

  “Oh, no!” she gasped, but it was an effort to move out of his reach. Something started churning inside, a motor that sent her pulse thumping.

  His hands dropped. “I forgot all your hang-ups!” he teased as he handed her the suit. “You know where you can change and just take a towel out of the bathroom.”

  She started across the room, but paused at the door. “I meant it about the balloon. You’re not to pay.”

  “That’s between Jack Wilson and me and has nothing to do with you anymore. Forget it.”

  “I can’t. It makes me feel like a … a floozy.”

  “Oh, yeah?” He started toward her, his blue eyes dancing. “If that’s the case, you’ll do whatever I want for a price, how about …”

  “Stuff it! You know what I mean.”