"I'm not going to hide away from that . . . that tarantula," she said flatly. "I have a show to do tonight." "You have an understudy." "That's my role."
"You're not well enough to perform tonight." "Watch me. Desdemona was delicate anyway. It might even enhance my characterization."
"I can't let you do it. Jason would kill me if I let you expose yourself."
"Then you'll have to take your chances. It's about time someone besides Jason did." She tossed aside the cover and swung her legs to the floor. "I'm not letting Jason build me an Eagles-mount to hide away in, and I'm not going to let him continue to live like that either," "And what are you going to do?" "The first thing I'm going to do is to get out of here and go to the theater. I can rest there until it's time to go on. You can either help me or let me go alone."
"You're weak as a kitten."
"I'm stronger than you think."
"Yes." He studied her thoughtfully. "I believe you are."
"You'll help me?"
"Do I have a choice?" Eric asked ruefully. "I can't have you collapsing on the way to the theater."
"I won't collapse.' Her lips set determinedly. "It would give that viper a victory—and she's not going to win one more battle."
Nine
Jason was waiting in her dressing room when she finished her performance that night and jumped to his feet the moment she walked into the room. "Are you all right?"
"Other than feeling like a wrung-out dishrag, I'm fine." She strode over to the vanity and sat down. "And I don't think my performance suffered."
"I don't give a damn about your performance." His hands clamped down on her shoulders. "I couldn't believe it when Eric told me you were on stage tonight. You've made yourself into a blasted target."
"Eric said she was clever. I didn't think there was a chance she'd take pot shots at me while I was onstage. Did you find her?"
"No, but I'm still looking for—"
"Good." She began creaming the stage makeup off her face. "But I think we need to act more aggressively. If she won't let herself be found, then well simply have to tempt her out into the open." She looked at his reflection in the mirror. "And we're not going to do that by hiding me out on Long Island."
"Really?" Jason's hands tightened on her shoulders. "I can hardly wait for you to unveil your master plan."
"No master plan. I just intend to lead the normal life I usually lead and let her come to me."
"Bait," he said hoarsely. "I'll be damned if I let you do it. You don't know her. She'll—"
"I know she's a monster and that she's made your life hell." She met his gaze in the mirror. "And 1 know I'm not going to let her do it any longer. I want her behind bars, where she belongs, and I want you free."
"I've been fighting this battle since I was twenty years old. They won't jail her without hard evidence."
"We have the bottle of wine."
"Which means we have a chance. We need more evidence."
She shrugged. "Then well get more evidence."
"Leave this to me. She'll kill you." His face was pale. "She almost did it last night."
"Because I wasn't on my guard."
"It doesn't matter. You don't know what she is. She's like a—" He stopped, searching for a word. "I can't lose you,"
"You don't have me." She stood up and moved toward the closet. "And you won't have me until we get rid of that python choking the life out of you."
"I'm not going to let you do this, Daisy."
"Yes, you are." She smiled lovingly at him over her shoulder as she reached for the hanger on which her tunic shirt and slacks were hanging.
"Because you can't do anything else. It's my life and I'm going to live it as I see fit."
His hands clenched slowly into fists at his sides before he turned on his heel and strode toward the door. "Not if I find her first."
"What can you do if you find her?"
'What I should have done when I learned what she had done to the baby."
"And become a murderer yourself?"
His face twisted with torment. "I won't let you die."
He slammed the door behind him.
Sam was waiting in the hall when Daisy came out of the dressing room ten minutes later. He shook his auburn head reprovingly at her. "You gulp poison one night and the next you're onstage shouting a siren call for her to come and get you again. Not smart, Daisy. You've got lots of heart, but I can't say much about your brain power."
"I suppose you've got orders to encamp outside my apartment?"
He shook his head. "In your apartment."
"I only have one bed."
"That's all right. I brought my sleeping bag. Jason says I stick close as glue to you from now on."
Daisy nodded. "I'm not going to argue. I have every intention of living to a ripe old age and enjoying every minute of it." She glanced at him from the corner of her eye as she started down the hall. "Do you know about Cynthia Hayes?"
"Sure, Jason told me about her when he hired me. He seemed to think she might be a threat to me if I took the job." He grinned. "But he knew I could take care of myself with that bitch."
"I'm going to get rid of her."
"It's about time."
"Will you help me?"
He nodded soberly. "Jason's my friend. You find a way to squash her and I'll provide the army boots."
She smiled. "That's good to know."
"So when do we start?"
"Not tonight. I'm still too weak and shaky." She opened the stage door. "Tomorrow after the performance will do as well."
Sam pressed the code into the panel and the electric gates slid open. "You'd better make this good. We may not get another chance. Jason's likely to have my ass in a sling for bringing you here." He drove through the gates and up the long, curving driveway of Eaglesmount.
Daisy looked up at a mellow, ivy-covered redbrick mansion that reminded her of an old English country house. She was surprised by the timeless beauty and serenity of the place. She supposed she had been thinking of Eaglesmount as a house as gloomy and melancholy as the House of Usher.
"You're sure he's at home?"
Sam nodded. "He called me at the theater while you were onstage to check to make sure everything was okay with you."
"Where will he be in the house?"
"Probably the music room. He spends most of his time there. The second door on the left when you enter the foyer." Sam drew up before the front entrance. "The code to open the front door is four-twelve-one."
"Thanks, Sam." Daisy drew her white satin cloak more closely around her as she opened the passenger door and scrambled out of the limousine. "Don't worry, everything will be fine."
"I'll go to my quarters. Call me if you need me."
He meant if Jason threw her out on her ear. But she couldn't let that happen. "I won't need you." She waved and closed the passenger door before climbing the steps and pressing the code into the panel beside the carved mahogany door.
The front door swung open and she stepped into the foyer. She was confronted, again, with beauty and timeless elegance. A graceful curving staircase swept up from a superbly designed hall in which polished black and white tiles gleamed beneath an exquisite crystal chandelier. She shouldn't have been surprised, she thought with a sympathetic pang. Cynthia Hayes had driven Jason into making this house into his haven and, because it was his nature to create beauty, he had turned Eaglesmount into an extraordinary home.
Second door on the left. She took a deep breath and moved across the gleaming black and white squares toward the music room.
Jason was sitting at the Steinway baby grand across the room, making notations on the sheet of paper in front of him. His dark hair took on added luster beneath the light of the chandelier. Dressed in gray cords and a black shirt, he seemed an anomaly in this gracious old-world house. He looked tough, sexy . . . and lonely. His loneliness sent a surge of love and sympathy through Daisy that melted her nervousness.
"What are you working on?"
He stiffened and then swiveled on the bench to face her. "What are you doing here?"
"Sam brought me." She closed the door behind her and came toward him, her white satin cloak rustling as she walked. "Is that for a new play?"
"Yes."
She smiled. "Is there a part in it for me?"
"I don't know." He frowned. "You shouldn't be here."
"You certainly made it difficult for anyone to get to you. What security!" She stopped in the middle of the room. "But here I am and I have no intention of letting you toss me out."
He stood up and strode toward her. "I haven't found Cynthia yet. I have a detective agency trying to locate her, but you'll have to stay away from me until I—"
"The hell I will." She whirled in a circle, and the white satin cloak rippled and shimmered under the lights of the chandelier. "Isn't this a gorgeous cloak? It matches the gown I was wearing when that snake slipped me the mickey."
He looked taken aback at the change of subject. "Beautiful."
"I thought you'd like it. The gown had to go to the cleaners after I got it back from the hospital, but the cloak is beautiful enough to be worn alone."
He dismissed the subject of the cloak impatiently. "Since you won't go to Eric's, I've hired two men to guard you around the clock at your apartment and Sam—"
"Is very sweet. He likes and admires you very much, you know." She tilted her head back and gazed up at the ceiling. "This is a lovely room. Those frescoes on the ceiling are wonderful."
"Are you listening to me, Daisy?"
"Yes, I'm listening." She plopped down in a flurry of white satin on the huge blue velvet.
cushioned chesterfield facing the piano. "I'm sure all your arrangements for my safety are very efficient." She smiled lovingly at him. "And it's too bad you wasted all your effort concocting them. I'm not going anywhere, Jason."
"I beg your pardon."
"I'm staying here with you. My suitcases are in the trunk of the limousine. Sam decided to wait to bring them in until you gave him permission."
"Which he isn't going to get."
"Why not? You're not thinking clearly. Your security here is tighter than Eric's house or my apartment could possibly be. Sam can run me back and forth to the theater, and we—"
"It's too dangerous, dammit. Why do you think I wasn't at the theater tonight?"
"Because you're afraid to be close to me," she said gently. "You won't allow me near you because something always happens to people you care about. Don't you see that it's gotten to be a phobia with you?"
"Cynthia's not a phobia, she's a lethal threat."
"One that I'm willing to confront."
"Do you think I don't know that?" he asked hoarsely. "From the moment we met, I realized how generous you are. I knew you'd take any risk for someone you care about."
"So you tried to keep me at a distance." She shook her head. "It's not generosity. I'm being selfish. That homicidal shrew is trying to ruin my life, and I have no intention of letting her get away with it." She paused and then added, "And she's made the man I love go through hell for most of his adult life." She saw him tense and smile faintly. "I'm sorry if you don't want me to say it, but I do love you, Jason."
"Lord knows why. I said you were generous."
"And you love me." She gazed at him pityingly, for he stared at her with a tormented expression twisting his features. "Why won't you tell me, Jason? That chandelier up there isn't going to fall on me just because you say you love me. It's Cynthia, not fate, that's caused all your problems."
"I know that."
"But it's gone on so long you don't believe it." She stood up and reached out and took his hand. "Well, it's time you did. Sit down."
"What?"
She pushed him down onto the easy chair she had just vacated and took a step back. "I've got to convince you how good an idea it is for me to stay here."
"And how do you intend to do that?"
"I have only one weapon in my arsenal that's strong enough to shift the balance." Her hand went to the three jeweled fastenings at the bodice of her cloak. "But it's a weapon we both enjoy using." She slipped the cloak off and let it fall in a silken pool on the carpet. She ignored the sharp intake of his breath as she sat down on his lap, straddling him, her knees on the cushions on either side of his thighs. "I believe you've neglected my education. I've never made love in a music room."
"You're naked."
"No." She reached back and took off her high-heeled slippers and tossed them on the floor. "Now I'm naked." Her eyes twinkled at him. "I told you the cloak was good enough to be worn alone."
"Don't do this to me, Daisy," he said hoarsely. "I can't take it."
"I can." She leaned forward and began unbuttoning his shirt. "All of it. Over and over." She pressed her naked breasts against the hair thatching his chest and felt a shudder rack his body. "As you well know." His heart was beating erratically against her ear, he was hardening against her. She laid her cheek against his shoulder. "Tell me you love me," she whispered.
"Daisy ..." Her name came out in a strangled rasp.
"All right. Not now." She pressed her lips to the hollow of his throat. "Later." "Get—off me!"
"Why?" She rubbed against him. The hot tingling between her thighs was becoming an aching emptiness, "You like me here. I can tell." "Sex."
"Sex is part of love." Her eyes were suddenly shining with tears as she looked up at him. "Don't you see how difficult this is for me? But Charlie told me to go after the brass ring and that's what I have to do. You've always been the brass ring for me. You always will be." She moistened her lips with her tongue. "It's been a long time, Jason. I need you so."
"Do you?" He gazed at her silently for an instant, and his hand reached out and gently touched the bright wing of hair curving against her temple "Daisy ..."
Then he was fumbling with his clothes, freeing himself. He positioned her, holding her gaze as he slid her slowly onto his arousal.
She cried out as she took him, her teeth sinking into her lower lip.
His arms grabbed her close, taking her breath, holding her sealed to him. The sensation was indescribably full, bold, hot, throbbing. He ground her against him, his chest laboring as he tried to draw breath. "I'm the one in need," he said through gritted teeth. "I've wanted this every time I saw you, every time I looked at you. . . ." His hands curved around her waist, lifting her and bringing her down again with driving force. "Tell me to stop. I'll hurt you. I feel like a wild animal that's—"
"I don't care." Her muscles contracted, squeezing him tighter, and he cried out.
He closed his eyes, panting, shuddering, and then he exploded. Plunging, driving, moving her body to suit himself in a frenzy of passion.
She didn't know how long that frenzy went on, as she was swept along in its wake. She had thought it was too intense to last for long, but somehow it did. Neither of them could get enough of the other. A sensual, erotic haze enveloped her, tinting every breath, coloring every movement in scarlet heat until the climax came to its zenith and released them.
Jason's eyes were still glazed and smoky as his lids lifted to look down at her. "Lord," he whispered.
She nodded, unable to speak for the ripples of aftershock cascading through her body.
He lifted her off him and she slid to her knees on the floor in front of his chair. She was vaguely aware of him putting his clothes in order, but she couldn't move from where she knelt on the floor.
He stood up and snatched the cloak from the floor and put it over her shoulders.
"Thank you," she said automatically.
He looked surprised, and then a small smile tugged at his lips. "I think I should be the one to express thanks." The smile faded. "But it doesn't change anything. You can't stay here."
Daisy wrapped the cloak closer around her. "I thought you'd probably still have arguments, but it certainly broke the ice."
For an instant the grimness vanished from his expression and
his lips twitched. "I can't deny it did that."
She moved toward the door, the cloak flowing behind her as she moved. "Where's the kitchen? I'm starved. I hope you don't have any servants in the house to get in my way."
He shook his head. "I have a cleaning service that comes in twice a week."
"Good." She opened the door and glanced back at him. "Come on. Ill make you an omelet." "In that cloak?"
"Oh, no. 111 take it off before I begin cooking. You must have an apron somewhere. ..." She glanced over her shoulder. "Coming?"
"You know I am," he said grimly as he started after her. "You deliberately furnish me with that mental picture of you in nothing but an apron, puttering around my kitchen. You're trying to seduce me again, dammit."
"Yep!" She strode ahead of him into the foyer. "I never knew I was capable of seduction, but necessity is a powerful spur. Before this is over I may even become good at it." She shot him a veiled look full of mischief. "Besides, I've never made love in a kitchen either."
"You won't send me away?" she whispered as she cuddled closer to him in the big bed. "It won't do any good. I'll just come back and I'm safer under your protection than chasing after you."
"You pose a strong argument." His lips twisted. "And your persuasiveness is downright irresistible."
"It has to end, Jason. I love you too much to let you be hurt anymore."
He was silent a moment. "Lord, I'm scared for you."
"Don't be. I won't let myself become one of that vixen's victims."
"Easy to say." His voice was uneven. "I'd die for you, Daisy, but I don't think I could stand anything happening to you. It nearly killed me, watching you in that hospital bed when you—"
"Shh, forget about it."
"I can't forget about it." He paused. "This was what I've been afraid of since that first night I saw you. You were everything that was warm and beautiful and shining, and I knew I should turn my back and walk away from you." He buried his face in her hair. "And I couldn't do it. I was so damned hollow and alone. I had to take a little of that shining for myself. Just a little ..."
"But you gave back too. You gave to me and to Charlie." She kissed his cheek. "Now go to sleep and we'll talk some more in the morning." She paused. "Unless you'd like to make a declaration?"