Paperback Romance Page 14

  Every stroke of Nick’s tongue increased the wetness between Carolyn’s legs as she imagined that tongue, those same strokes touching her there. “Nick, oh please,” she moaned. When Nick raised her head Carolyn stared at the slightly parted lips. She felt the rise and fall of Nick’s chest against her and Nick gasped for breath.

  Carolyn sank into the bedclothes as Nick’s hair, soft from rainwater, brushed the insides of her thighs. Her body was limp except for her hips, straining toward Nick. Then her legs came alive, twining around Nick’s body, drawing her down. Her arms found the strength to move and she ran her fingers through Nick’s hair, then her hands held Nick tighter to her body as Nick’s tongue discovered every secret place and hidden nerve.

  ***

  “Was it…okay that I stared at you,” Carolyn asked, her cheek resting on Nick’s chest. “While you were…when you first touched me.”

  She felt a ripple pass through Nick’s body and looked up shyly as Nick answered. “That was probably the most erotic thing I’ve ever shared with anyone,” Nick said in a soft tone of wonder. “I could see what I was doing reflected in your face.”

  Carolyn’s head reeled as she pulled herself across Nick’s body. “Then look at me,” she said, her voice taut with desire. “Look at me while I touch you again, so I can see…”

  Carolyn lost herself in the pale silver world of Nick’s eyes.

  ***

  Nick said, “I’m ravenous.”

  “Let’s order something from room service. You can hide in here. You won’t even have to get dressed,” Carolyn said. She handed Nick the room service menu and studied it over Nick’s shoulder.

  “I wonder what they’d think,” Nick said in a suggestive tone, “if all we ordered was a bowl of whipped cream.”

  “That’s not a particularly nutritious dinner,” Carolyn said.

  “I wasn’t thinking of eating it…for dinner.”

  Carolyn gaped and blushed, then shrieked when Nick tackled and pinned her. They wrestled and tickled and made love again. Carolyn felt lazy and satisfied when she called in their order. Nick’s sotto voce suggestions about whipped cream and breadsticks made Carolyn blush again, but she did not order either of them.

  Chapter Nine

  Resoluto

  Alison sighed and shut her magazine. She’d been waiting for Carolyn to come back to the hotel for almost two hours. The concierge had assured her the Rome dinner hour was over by now which meant that Carolyn was probably going to some infernal symphony. Alison hoped she wasn’t with the conductor. Some chance. Alison had been telling herself for the last half an hour that she was a fool.

  What had possessed her to cross continents? A couple of letters with uncertainty in them? Why, now that she had made it to her destination, exhausted and hungry, was she sitting in a hotel lobby, waiting for the sight of Carolyn? Love stinks, she thought. Love is the pits. Love is killing me. Love is the worst thing that has ever happened to me. Why am I putting myself through this?

  Disgusted, she tucked the boring magazine in her satchel and headed for the elevator. She’d order room service, take a long, hot shower, and leave a message for Carolyn to call her in the morning.

  Her stomach growled appreciatively as the elevator filled with the aroma of whatever delightful concoction was under the various domes on the room service cart next to her. Alison saw the waiter glance at her, so she smiled and rubbed her stomach to mimic hunger. When she raised her eyebrows and indicated the domes, he rattled off a list that meant nothing to her. She peered at the bill, hoping to recognize a few words so she would know what to order, but nothing made sense—except the name and room number! Vincense, room eight-one-seven. What a dope she was—Carolyn had been in her room all along. The hotel must have rung the wrong room when she had first tried.

  Alison got off the elevator with the waiter and walked slowly down the long hallway while the waiter went in the opposite direction. She imagined she heard Carolyn’s soft voice as the waiter was admitted into the room and reappeared a few moments later. She kept walking, hoping she didn’t run out of hallway before the elevator came. She did. So she fumbled in her satchel as if looking for keys, then, mercifully, the elevator came and took the waiter away.

  She virtually skipped back to Carolyn’s door, then rapped as the waiter had. Grinning, she bent her head away from the peephole, and when Carolyn’s voice queried her purpose, Alison faked a very bad Italian accent and said there was a problem with the order.

  “It’s fine,” Carolyn answered.

  “No, ah, reelee Signorina, I must, ah, check the order.” Alison realized she sounded like Maurice Chevalier, but Carolyn opened the door.

  “Surprise!” Alison swept inside and gave Carolyn a bear hug. Poor thing’s in shock, she thought, when Carolyn went rigid and stayed rigid. Alison let go of her and stepped back, then realized Carolyn was wearing a hotel bathrobe.

  “Did I get you out of the shower?” Alison thought she must have because Carolyn looked so odd—her face was draining of color.

  Time didn’t seem to move for a few moments while Carolyn stared at Alison, who stared back. Alison inhaled deeply, recognizing the smell of the food on the room service cart, and then something else—familiar, intimate. She looked around the room, and at the closed door that must lead to the bedroom. The light was on and a shadow crossed it, visible under the door.

  Alison looked back at Carolyn who began to flush. Her color deepened while Alison stared at her accusingly. “I have interrupted something, haven’t I?” Carolyn nodded. “I thought you were going to avoid another holiday fling. At least that’s what you said in your letters.”

  “Ally, I have to tell you something—”

  “No, you don’t. Really. I don’t want to know.” Alison stepped backward, fumbling for the door. “None of my business.”

  “But it’s not what you think,” Carolyn said, her voice high with distress. “I mean, it is, but it’s not.”

  “Leave me a message when you’ll be free. I’m only here a couple of days,” Alison said. This was her worst nightmare—it wasn’t even a nightmare she’d ever had. To find Carolyn like this…to see her after making love had been a dear fantasy, but not after someone else had been loving her! She had to get out.

  The bedroom door opened and a man stood there in pants and shirt. Of course, Alison thought bitterly, the conductor.

  “Carolyn, is something wrong?” The voice was not very deep, but it resonated.

  “No. Nick, uh,” Carolyn’s voice died away, then steadied. “Nick, I want you to meet my…dearest friend and my agent, Alison McNamara.”

  Nick didn’t leave the doorway, but said across the semi-darkness, “A pleasure.”

  “Likewise,” Alison said, knowing her voice dripped sarcasm she couldn’t cover. She felt betrayed and wounded, as if Carolyn had thrust a long dagger right into her heart. She struck back in pain. “Is he better than your ex-husband?”

  “Alison,” Carolyn whispered. “I said I have something to tell you. It’s not what you think.”

  Alison laughed at the irony. “Then I’d like to know what it is.”

  The conductor moved into the room. “Since you’re Carolyn’s dearest…friend, though I can’t say you act like it, I guess you should know the truth.”

  Alison stared as the light shone brightly on the conductor’s face, illuminating angular features made harsher by expression than by their own design. Short hair—very Laurie Anderson. The light captured what should not have been filling a man’s shirt, the points of soft breasts. Alison gasped and caught her stomach in raw pain. This was worse, so much worse.

  “Alison,” Carolyn said, “Nick is a woman. I’m…I’m a lesbian.”

  “No,” Alison whispered. Men she could forgive, maybe. Men she could compete with, knowing that they would never be emotionally sustaining to Carolyn. But another woman…a powerful, daring butch woman…no. She groped for the door, and put her hand on the knob.

  �
�Alison, please don’t go,” Carolyn pleaded. “Not like this. I’ve been hoping you could accept me.”

  “A friend wouldn’t leave like this,” the conductor said. “Carolyn obviously cares for you, so why are you hurting her?”

  “I didn’t travel thousands of miles to see this,” Alison said.

  “See what?” The conductor’s contempt cut into Alison.

  Alison whirled around. She would not go home whipped by this…this bulldyke! “To see my best friend making a fool of herself over a predatory bitch!”

  Carolyn gasped. “Alison, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

  The conductor laughed and walked toward Alison, stopping near enough for Alison to see and smell the traces of lovemaking that hadn’t yet been washed away. Her world shattered.

  “I’ve been called a lot of things, but never predatory.”

  “You’re a woman so afraid of her womanhood you’re hiding it, lying and making Carolyn lie, too. You dress like a man because you can’t be a woman. You’re not strong enough to be a woman!”

  “I assure you, I’m a woman. Carolyn can attest to it.”

  The conductor knows, Alison thought. She shut her eyes to block out the conductor’s triumphant gleam as the brutal truth sank into Alison. She knows I’m in love with Carolyn. But Carolyn can’t know. Please let me save at least that much of my dignity.

  “A shadow-woman, then,” Alison said weakly.

  “Alison, don’t,” Carolyn said, her voice thick with tears.

  She pities me. “I don’t need your mercy,” Alison said. “I guess I’ll cut my stay short.”

  She evaded the hand that would have caught her arm, closed her ears to Carolyn’s plea, and scrambled out the door. She ran the length of the corridor to the service stairs and stumbled down the two flights to her room.

  She hadn’t really unpacked—what had she been thinking, that she and Carolyn would share a room? Stupid, I’m so stupid. She ignored the phone when it started to ring. Keeping my life on hold, waiting for her—it’s over. Cases stuffed, she fled the room, threw her credit card down at the front desk, then flung herself into a cab.

  The darkness was filled with the conductor’s triumphant face. She tried to make the image go away, but it persisted. She could ruin Nicolas Frost if she wanted to, she told herself. She could out Nicolas Frost with a vengeance! What a story—hey world press, he’s a she and she’s a dyke!

  She rocked back into the depths of the cab. She couldn’t do it. It would hurt Carolyn, and even though Alison wanted, at this moment, to hurt Carolyn the way she herself was hurting, she knew she couldn’t do that to another lesbian. But if Nicolas Frost hurt Carolyn, or ever said anything homophobic, then nothing would stop her.

  The next flight to Frankfurt left in an hour. Alison went to the women’s restroom to wait, sobbing silently in huddled misery. She wore her sunglasses on the plane, and knew they would not fool anyone.

  ***

  Nick held Carolyn against her, knowing Carolyn was hardly aware of her. She was ashamed of herself, but hoped that in the long run the nasty scene would teach Carolyn a vital lesson—the world did not like them. Nick wasn’t ashamed of being a lesbian, but she wanted too much from the world to risk her standing. Carolyn would learn that if her best friend couldn’t accept her, then very few people would. She had sensed, deep down, that Alison was in love with Carolyn, but she still didn’t regret what she’d done. If Alison didn’t have the courage to tell Carolyn, then Nick wasn’t going to do it for her.

  “Carolyn, you’re going to make yourself sick,” Nick said. “Come to bed and try to calm down.”

  “I can’t,” she said between ragged breaths. “Alison has always been there for me. After my parents died, after that awful marriage, Alison was there. She’s like my sister…she sells my books, she made this trip possible…” Carolyn began to cry again.

  Later, when Carolyn slept fitfully, tucked under Nick’s arm, Nick dreamed of a perfect world where she and Carolyn shared breakfast every day, where Carolyn was always in the conductor’s box, and Carolyn was there to be loved and to love her every night. She dreamed of a perfect world where the premiere conductor and world-famous author stood side-by-side for photographs that were captioned, “Nicola Frost and Carolyn Vincense, long-time companions.” Maybe someday she would be as open as Martina Navratilova. She had hoped the masquerade would be over soon, but this recording deal would lead to others. The dream would have to wait for a few more years, but someday she would be too established to oust. She would make waiting worth Carolyn’s while. She yawned and drowsed, smiling in the darkness. She could make dreams come true with one wave of her baton.

  ***

  The next few days in Rome were heaven for Nick. The performances seemed less quarrelsome, the weather stayed sultry and Carolyn did not want to get out of bed. They were both starving all the time but food was low on the priority list. On the day before Carolyn was due to leave for California, Nick arrived back at her suite to find her having tea with Oscar. She had obviously been shopping because Nick would have remembered the tight Italian jeans that encased the slender legs. She would have noticed the shirt, too—crinkled white cotton with a rose splashed over one breast and a long stem that twined its way to the hem of the shirt which missed meeting the top of the jeans by a couple of centimeters. The sight of Carolyn’s lightly tanned midriff made Nick wobbly. Ordinarily she would have minded being wobbly, but she didn’t care in the least as she dropped a kiss on the mouth that curved in welcome. Carolyn caught her and kissed her back, taking her time.

  “Ahem,” Oscar said.

  Nick broke off the kiss long enough to say, “Not my fault.”

  “Really?” Oscar sighed heavily and made a sound of unmistakable British distaste when Nick went back to kissing Carolyn. “The least you could do is retire to the bedroom.”

  “Good idea,” Carolyn said into Nick’s mouth.

  “Disgusting,” Nick heard Oscar say as they closed the door behind them.

  Nick immediately slid her hands under the shirt. Her fingers trembled over the golden skin of Carolyn’s stomach. She was considerably weakened when Carolyn pulled the shirt over her head. Still, she had the strength to unhook Carolyn’s bra and kiss the red marks the straps had left. Her hands captured the heavy softness the bra had cradled. “Torture trap,” she murmured.

  “Taking it off this way is so much nicer than doing it by myself,” Carolyn said. Her back arched and Nick hugged Carolyn to her, her hands massaging the smooth skin of Carolyn’s back. Her hands appreciated the snug fit of the jeans over Carolyn’s derriere. Then Carolyn pushed her back on the bed.

  “Don’t I get to undress?”

  “When I say so,” Carolyn said, her lips curving in a sensuous smile.

  “Are you going to have your way with me?” Nick’s hands returned to Carolyn’s breasts as Carolyn leaned over her.

  “Si. Right-o. Oui. Ja. You betcha.”

  “Good answer.” Nick shuddered as Carolyn’s hand pressed against her crotch. She unzipped her pants with a moan. She could feel how wet she was now, and she knew how eagerly Carolyn’s fingers would take her.

  Carolyn’s fingers were quick and sure. Nick gasped, meeting Carolyn’s rhythm. “So…fast. Vivace.” Carolyn’s hand stopped, then moved so slowly Nick groaned.

  “No, largo,” Carolyn murmured.

  “Who’s the conductor here?” Her mouth was dry. Her hips arched frantically.

  Carolyn pushed Nick’s shirt up and stripped away the gauze, her mouth tasting Nick’s breasts the moment they were bare.

  Nick groaned deep in her throat. She could think of nothing but offering her body to Carolyn and succumbing to the way Carolyn gave her pleasure.

  For some reason Nick’s brain kept reminding her that it was the middle of the afternoon, that Oscar was probably still in the next room, but her body didn’t care.

  Carolyn’s body apparently didn’t care either. The softness Nick’
s mouth found was beyond words—beyond music even. And the sweetness that Nick’s tongue explored was the essence of Carolyn’s passion, heady and addictive.

  Nick said later, “I suppose we should get some supper.”

  “Umm.” Carolyn sighed and curled herself around Nick’s body. Nick felt new wetness against her hip. She had thought herself utterly satisfied, but her body responded to Carolyn’s wetness with its own. When Carolyn finally let her out of the bed she raided the fruit basket sent by the hotel for strawberries and a banana.

  “Toss me an apple,” Carolyn said. She sat up, pulling a sheet up over her breasts. Nick smiled to herself. Carolyn’s usual modesty was at odds with her incredible passion. On the other hand, Nick was already fantasizing about removing the sheet and tasting Carolyn’s breasts again.

  “I don’t want to go home, Nick, not yet.” Carolyn studied her apple after she bit into it.

  Nick’s heart did a jig. She had deliberately not brought up Carolyn’s scheduled departure, waiting for some sign from Carolyn about what she wanted. “What do you want to do?”

  Carolyn stared up at Nick, then her gaze fell, riveting on the triangle of hair between Nick’s legs. Nick swayed. “I want to keep on making love to you. And I know I’m not ready to face home.”

  “Come home with me then. London has more museums than you can count. And musty churches by the score. You’ll love it.”

  “Okay.” Carolyn set down her half-eaten apple. Nick swayed again when Carolyn said huskily, “Come back over here.”

  Nick told her legs not to open again but they did it all by themselves. Really, it was getting embarrassing. But she could live with it.

  ***

  Alison was aware that Devon was watching her, but she did not meet his gaze, or anyone else’s for that matter. He could stare. She knew she’d made a fool of herself. She did not want his pity. She paid someone else to water Carolyn’s lawn, but otherwise her life went on. Nothing had changed except a future that hadn’t been hers anyway. And she had a lot of work to do, filling in a big hole in her business now that a major client was no longer there.