Читать книгу Fear of Falling - Cindi Myers, Cindi Myers - Страница 6

SARTAIN FOUND Natalie huddled against the wall, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She flinched when he touched her, but didn’t try to run away. “What is it?” he asked, taking her hand and squeezing it gently. Her fingers were icy, and he could feel her trembling.

“I—I’m afraid of the dark,” she said. “I know it’s silly, but I can’t help it, I—”

“It’s all right.” He released her hand but kept his arm around her as he felt along the wall until he came to a niche that held a candle. He located the lighter next to it, and flicked it open.

She began to relax as soon as the candle was lit. “What happened?” she asked. “Why did the lights go out?”

“Probably the storm we’re having. Lightning could have struck a transformer, or a tree could have fallen on the lines.”

“Does that happen often?”

“Enough that we keep candles in every room.”

“Why candles? Why not a flashlight?”

“Flashlight batteries corrode if left too long unused.” He looked around at the shadows cast by the candle across the stone walls. “Besides, the candlelight adds a certain atmosphere, don’t you think?”

“Damn your atmosphere. Just get me out of here.”

“In a moment.” He turned to look into her eyes. They were black in the dim light, the pupils enlarged. She’d stopped shaking, her body warm against his. All his better judgment told him to move away and lead her to the door, but then, when had he ever let judgment rule his decisions? He was a man used to indulging his passion and right now he wanted to know if Natalie felt the heat simmering between them.

Slowly, half prepared for her to slap him away, he bent toward her, and covered her lips with his own.

She stiffened, and he held still, not pressing his advantage, waiting for her to decide how far this would go. Then her breath, like a whisper, escaped in the slightest sigh, and she relaxed against him, her eyes closed, her lips parted.

He pulled her closer still, the pressure of his lips on hers increasing. Her mouth was soft and sensuous; the velvet feel of it sent desire surging through him.

Her lips parted farther and he plunged his tongue between them, tasting a faint sweetness. She gripped his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin, and he shut his eyes, surrendering to the hot wanting that engulfed him. Every nerve was alive to the feel of her, the sweep of her tongue across his teeth, the points of her breasts pressed against his chest, the tiny moans of pleasure escaping from her throat.

Light flashed behind his closed eyes, and he opened them to see that power had been restored. Once more the electric torches flickered in their sconces.

Natalie pulled away. He resisted the urge to hold her and reluctantly released her. She pressed back against the wall, one hand to her lips, confusion warring with accusation in her eyes. “You shouldn’t have done that,” she said, her voice breathy.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” He had expected her to, up until the moment her mouth opened to him, and he felt her body melt into his. He had the sense that Natalie was a woman who was used to denying herself, and that her brief surrender to him both horrified and fascinated her.

She looked away. “I wasn’t myself. I was upset. I—”

“Shhh.” He brushed her hair back from her forehead. She trembled at his touch, but didn’t push him away. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me.”

“Of course I do.” She straightened and fixed him with a stern look. “I work for you. What just happened between us—”

“It was a kiss. You don’t have to be afraid to say it.”

Her cheeks were a deep pink, and he sensed her struggle to continue to meet his gaze. “It was highly unprofessional behavior,” she said.

He shrugged. “Sometimes it’s okay to do something simply because it feels right.” Kissing Natalie had felt more right than anything he’d done in a long while.

She shook her head. “I don’t believe that.”

“You don’t?” He grinned. “Then I’ll do my best to teach you.”

Her expression hardened and she marched past him, out the door. Her high heels sounded a sharp retort as she hurried up the stairs.

He followed at a slower pace, still on edge from that amazing kiss. Something was definitely going on between the two of them and though he’d never admit it out loud, this sudden and intense connection had left him every bit as unsettled as she was.

NATALIE STOPPED in the hallway outside the suite of offices and tried to regain her composure. Her lips still burned with the feel of Sartain’s mouth on hers and the memory of the fierce desire he’d raised in her left her shaking.

Was it the man himself or only the situation in which they’d found themselves that had affected her this way? She’d been shocked at her first sight of the dungeon—as he’d no doubt intended. Then she’d recognized the black humor of the moment—the juvenile fun of scaring oneself that made haunted houses and horror movies so popular.

She’d wondered about the connection between Sartain’s appreciation for the dungeon and his rumored sexual proclivities, and had been bold enough to ask him about it. His answer had stirred her more than she cared to admit. All his talk of the freedom to be gained by surrender spoke to her own longing to rebel against the restrictions she’d operated under all her life. Self-control and mastery over her own body had kept her safe when she was performing on the high trapeze, but how often had it held her back from the pure joy of her art?

Then the lights had flickered and the familiar terror had overtaken her. Vertigo made her head swim, as if she was falling, and a scream tore from her throat before she could bite it back. Part of her mind knew she was in no danger but that part held no sway over the fear that had been a fixture in her life since her accident.

She’d welcomed Sartain’s arms around her, so solid and comforting. His strength and calmness wrapped around her like a blanket. Then on the heels of her retreating panic came fierce desire, the need to revel in everything that made her feel so alive.

For a moment, in Sartain’s arms, she had glimpsed the ecstasy of abandon, every bit as exhilarating as her first leap into space from the trapeze tower.

And then the lights had flickered on, reminding her of the danger of falling, and she’d drawn back, shocked at her behavior, and at Sartain’s.

She tried to remain angry with him, to convince herself he’d taken advantage of her when she was in a vulnerable position. But the memory of the pull between them, of the powerful attraction that was almost outside of their control, dulled her rage. Sartain was a man with a known appetite for women, and she was a woman who hadn’t been with a man in a very long time. That alone was probably a powerful enough combination to create sparks.

“Natalie, I’ve been looking for you.”

Doug’s appearance at the end of the hallway startled her. She straightened her shoulders and pasted a smile on her face. “Hello, Doug. Sartain was just showing me the castle.”

Doug glanced past her, his expression gloomy. “He showed you the dungeon?”

She laughed, though the sound was forced and brittle even to her own ears. “He enjoys playing the eccentric, doesn’t he?”

Doug moved closer, frown lines etched deep on his forehead. “Are you all right? He didn’t try anything, did he?”

She shook her head, avoiding meeting Doug’s gaze. “Of course not.” Sartain hadn’t had to try very hard. She’d welcomed the kiss, welcomed the chance to explore the feelings he kindled in her. Never mind that doing so was wrong. She’d spent so many years always doing what was right, and what had that gotten her? Not love or happiness or any of the things she really wanted in life.

Doug gave her a fatherly pat on the shoulder. “If he does, you tell me. I’ll make sure he behaves. I’ve already warned him you’re not one of his models. You deserve his respect.”

And why is that? she thought silently, but refrained from saying as much. For as long as she could remember, Doug had tended to be overprotective of her, to the consternation of Gigi. “You’re my agent,” Natalie’s mother would say. “Why would you concern yourself with my little girl?”

Why indeed? Natalie had often wondered. In the end, she’d decided that Doug, who had never married, and who had no children of his own, saw her as someone on whom he could spend any stray paternal feelings.

However, she was certainly old enough now not to need his misplaced protection. “I can handle Sartain,” she said firmly. “I’m sure he won’t give me any problems.”

Whatever feelings she had for her boss, they were no doubt fueled by the novelty of her situation, a reaction to the unaccustomed freedom of living on her own for the first time ever. She’d soon get her feelings under control and behave in a more professional manner.

As for Sartain, she was sure he would soon find some model or other woman upon which to focus his attention. Someone who viewed his darker passions with more than curiosity.

AFTER LEAVING the dungeon, Sartain went to the orangery on the second floor. He hadn’t even known what this was until he’d spotted it on the plans for the castle. The architect had explained to him that the most ostentatious castles had these indoor solariums where tropical plants and even orange trees flourished year-round. At hideous expense, of course. It was one more way for the lord of the manor to show off his wealth.

Privately, Sartain had thought it a foolish conceit, but since he was working on establishing himself as a true eccentric, he’d ordered the architect to include every detail of a proper castle, including the orangery.

Doug found him bouncing a tennis ball off the brick floor and catching it. The mindless rhythm of the activity often stimulated his creativity. “I came to talk to you about the donation for the Young Artists’ Endowment Fund benefit,” Doug said without preamble.

Sartain caught the ball and held it, then greeted his agent. Doug Tanner had been with him since he was a penniless art student. He was a pain in the ass sometimes, but he’d been a first-rate agent, and those were rare enough in this business for Sartain to put up with Doug’s occasionally overbearing manner.

“I told them I’d donate something. No problem.”

“They don’t want one of your own works. They want something from your collection.”

He scowled. “What do you mean they don’t want something from my own works?”

“It’s the marketing angle for this year’s auction. Giving the public a glimpse into the artists’ own personal collections or something like that.” Doug folded him arms across his chest. “Besides, your stuff is a little too…edgy for them. After all, this is a Young Artists’ Endowment.”

“And my paintings are every adolescent male’s fantasies.” He began bouncing the ball again. “Fine. What should we send them?”

“You decide. Whatever it is, it will be worth a lot of money to them. You’ve built up quite a collection.”

“Thanks to you.” Doug was a renowned collector in his own right and he’d often advised Sartain on purchases.

Doug stepped around an arrangement of palm trees and stood beside Sartain. “I passed Natalie in the hall just now. She looked upset.”

“I don’t know what about.”

Doug glanced at him. “I thought maybe you’d said something to her. I was hoping you wouldn’t run her off the first day.”

“She’s not going to leave. She’s too tough for that.”

“How do you know?”

“She actually had me apologizing for an outburst this morning.” He held the ball and glared at Doug. “I never apologize.”

“Then I’m impressed. She might civilize you yet.”

“I’m more interested in making her a little less civilized. Less uptight, anyway.” He tossed the ball across the room. It landed at the base of a lime tree and sent a rain of leaves to the floor. “How did you happen to pick her for the job? There must be hundreds of business-school graduates you could have hired.”

“Her mother is an old family friend. I did it to help her, and also because I knew after years of dealing with Gigi, she’d know how to cope with you.”

“You make it sound like I’m a dog who needs to be trained.”

Doug smirked. “Your words, not mine.” His expression sobered. “You’re going to behave yourself with her, aren’t you, John? She’s not one of your models or actresses.”

“What, is she a virgin?” He laughed at Doug’s stern expression. “Natalie is an interesting person. If we’re going to be working together, I intend to get to know her better. How much better is entirely up to her.”

“She’s led a sheltered life,” Doug said. “She grew up with the performing company. She’s traveled all over the world, but she hasn’t really seen or done anything outside of the show.”

“All the more reason for me to share my reality with her. It could be a very eye-opening experience.” For both of them.

NATALIE PUSHED OPEN the door to the offices and found Laura waiting on the other side. “I’m glad you’re back,” Laura said. “I’ve been waiting to apologize for my behavior toward you earlier.” She stared at the floor, and shifted from foot to foot. “I guess I’m not very good at hiding my feelings. I was disappointed that I didn’t get your job, but now, after the way you handled Sartain this morning, I see why Doug hired you.”

The secretary’s new-found humbleness caught Natalie off guard, but she managed to nod. “Apology accepted.” She cleared her throat, composing her next words carefully. “It could be, too, that neither Doug nor Sartain wanted to give up a good assistant. I have almost no secretarial skills. The things they hired me for—writing catalog copy and press releases, negotiating with printers and shippers, and doing damage control with the press—will free you to focus more on managing Sartain’s schedule, taking care of supply orders and things like that. Can you show me what you’re working on this morning?”

“Sure.” Laura raised her head, smiling now. “The Young Artists’ Endowment Fund has asked for a donation for their charity auction.” She led the way to her desk and pulled up a file on the computer. “We’re sending a painting, so I have to find out which painting, then arrange for shipping and follow up to make sure we receive the proper paperwork for tax purposes.”

“Does Sartain often donate to charities?”

“Sometimes. He has a few causes he supports.” She glanced at Natalie. “He’s really a very generous man. What you saw before—that outburst—that’s just because his art is so important to him.”

Did she detect a note of adoration in Laura’s voice? Maybe her earlier ice princess routine was merely a cover for a serious crush on their employer. But was Sartain really generous? Not as self-centered as she’d thought?

“How was your tour of the castle?” Laura asked.

“It was all right.” Natalie was careful to keep her expression neutral. “It’s an impressive place.”

“Did he show you the dungeon?”

She started. Had someone seen them going in there, and perhaps wondered why they’d lingered so long? But Laura’s expression showed only mild curiosity.

“I take it it’s a regular stop on the tour.” Natalie made a face. “We were there when the lights went out.”

“There was a huge crash of thunder and they went out. Fortunately, the computers are on battery backup, so we didn’t lose anything.”

“Are there frequent power outages here?”

Laura shrugged. “Sometimes. When it storms. The electric co-op usually gets things up and running again quickly.”

“That’s good to know.” Natalie suppressed a shudder. She’d have to be sure to have a flashlight and candles within easy reach in her room. And maybe she’d refill the tranquilizers the doctor had prescribed. She didn’t like to take them, but sometimes that was the only way to keep the panic at bay.

“It’s almost lunchtime,” Laura said. “Would you like to eat together?”

Natalie checked her watch and was surprised to see it was a quarter to twelve. “I didn’t even think about lunch. I don’t guess you go out to eat much here, do you?”

Laura shook her head. “We don’t have to. The castle has a cook. And we have a covered patio with a gorgeous view.” She led the way to the combination break room/kitchen. “The cook keeps salad and sandwich fixings in here. And if you want anything special, you can call in an order to the kitchen and someone will deliver it here at lunchtime.”

“The perks of being wealthy,” Natalie said.

“The perks of working for someone who’s wealthy.” Laura opened the refrigerator and studied the contents. “How does salad sound? There’s chicken caesar today.”

“That sounds great,” Natalie said. She followed Laura out to a sheltered patio. The rain had stopped, and the clouds had parted to reveal a breathtaking view of a sun-washed valley framed by snow-capped peaks. “It looks like a postcard,” Natalie said.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Laura pulled two chairs up to a wrought-iron table and gestured for Natalie to sit. “I’ve seen deer and elk in the valley. And in the fall the aspens are spectacular.”

“Do you live here at the castle, too?” Natalie asked as Laura split the salad between two plates.

Laura shook her head. “Not in the castle like you. I’m in what I guess was meant to be a gardener’s cottage, at the back of the property. It’s tiny, but private.”

“How long have you worked for Sartain?” Natalie asked.

“Five months. I heard through another artist that Sartain was looking for office help and I applied for the job before it was even advertised.”

“Does he often have temper tantrums like the one I witnessed this morning?”

Laura giggled. “Temper tantrums? That’s a good way to describe them, I guess.”

“Talented, wealthy men and two-year-olds often have about the same level of self-control, I’ve noticed.” An acclaimed Chinese acrobat had spent one season with the Cirque du Paris. Having been pampered and catered to in his homeland, he continually chafed under the company’s strict rules. No one had been sorry to see him depart at the end of that year’s tour.

“I’d say he loses his temper over something about once a week,” Laura said. “Usually I shrug it off. I know he doesn’t mean anything by it. It’s only because he’s so passionate about his work.”

There was that adoring note again. Natalie picked at her salad. “That doesn’t give him the right to take his frustrations out on you,” she said.

“I guess not.” Laura’s eyes met Natalie’s. “Thank you for standing up for me this morning. He’s never apologized to anyone before.”

“Part of my job is to see that he acts like an adult about these things.” She frowned. “I’m supposed to bring some discipline into his life.”

“Then I’m really glad I didn’t get your job. The artists I’ve met don’t believe in discipline.”

“Do you know many artists?”

Laura shrugged. “A few. None as famous as Sartain. It’s a real privilege to get to work with him, don’t you think?”

“I suppose.”

“Of course, our little office probably seems pretty tame to you. Doug told me you worked with the Cirque du Paris. I saw a show once. It was incredible. What did you do there?”

“I was a high-trapeze performer. Not a star, but last season I worked with another woman and two men on one of the highlight pieces.” Her picture had been featured on one of the posters. Gigi had been torn between maternal pride and professional jealousy. In her younger years, Gigi’s face and figure had appeared regularly in advertisements for the show, but that had been seasons ago.

She pulled herself from her reverie, aware that Laura had been talking to her. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked what you thought of Sartain.”

“He’s a very talented artist. I see why his work sells so well.”

“I meant what did you think of him as a man. Some women think he’s very sexy.”

“He’s very good-looking. I also think he knows it and uses that to his advantage.” More than looks, Sartain had an animal sensuality that was undeniably attractive.

“He and I used to be lovers, you know. When I first came here.”

“Oh?” Natalie shifted in her chair, an uncomfortable tightness in her chest. “Used to be?”

“We split up when he wanted me to do some things I wasn’t comfortable with.” Laura leaned forward, her voice low. “He’s into some very kinky stuff.”

“So I gathered from his paintings.” Heat washed over Natalie as she remembered their discussion in the dungeon. What did it say about her that she was more fascinated than appalled by his kinkier interests?

“He can be very charming,” Laura said. “When he came on to me, I was so flattered. That was before I realized he treats all women that way. None of us really mean anything to him.” Her voice was heavy with regret.

“I’m surprised you continued working for him if he treated you badly,” Natalie said.

“Oh, but he didn’t treat me badly. Not really. He was just being…Sartain.” Laura spread her hands in a gesture of helplessness. “And it’s still something, getting to see him every day, you know?”

No, she didn’t know. Why would a woman like Laura—beautiful and obviously accomplished—cling to a man who had rejected her? “I’m sure there are other men who would treat you much better,” she said.

“Oh, I’m sure. And don’t think I’m still mooning over him like some silly schoolgirl.” Laura waved away the notion and attacked her salad once more. “I just think it’s important to have a role in supporting a great artist. It’s very gratifying, knowing I’m helping the world to know and appreciate his work.”

Was this woman for real? Natalie studied her coworker, but Laura’s expression seemed sincere enough. Maybe she was some kind of art groupie, like the young women who followed rock groups. “I’d say Sartain is very lucky to have someone so loyal on his staff,” she said.

“The work really is interesting,” Laura said. “You’ll see. Just don’t make the mistake I did and get involved with him personally.”

“Oh, of course not.” Natalie busied herself folding her napkin and sweeping up crumbs from the table. “I’m certainly not interested in Sartain as anything more than an employer,” she said. Liar.

But having an interest and acting on it were two different things. She knew too well the danger of abandoning oneself to desire.