But she was also the most vulnerable, especially now.
While he hesitated Claire gave a long sigh and moved very slightly, so that her skin slid against his hand, making his fingers drift involuntarily lower.
Involuntarily? Who was he trying to kid?
She settled down again, making a little contented sound in her throat, smiling a small secret smile.
For Gabe! he thought suddenly. She was dreaming that this was Gabe. If she awoke and found him there her sense of betrayal would be terrible.
Breathing hard, Randall rose to his feet and backed away. He found he was actually shaking from the force of the sensations that possessed him. He must put things right before there was a disaster.
But there was something he must do first. Moving carefully, not to awaken her, he pulled up the towel until it covered her again. Then he took the sheet and blankets that she’d pushed down, and inched them back into place, so that she would be kept warm.
When he was finished he backed out of the room and stood in the corridor, taking deep breaths.
It was only then that he remembered he’d left the liniment on her bedside table. He cursed but there was no help for it. Hell would freeze over before he risked going back in there.
He returned to his own cold, solitary bed and lay down to spend the rest of the night struggling with the pain of bruises and frustrated desire.
Randall was late coming down the next day. He’d finally fallen into a late doze and slept on. Susan explained that Claire had ordered that he shouldn’t be disturbed. The others had already gone out to work.
There was some sausage and bacon left. He would have been happy with it, but Susan insisted on cooking him a huge meal from scratch, and he didn’t have the heart to hurt her feelings.
Afterward he called Gabe. He’d been too easily put off by bright pleasantries the day before. They needed a serious talk.
But all he got was a young woman informing him that, “Mr. McBride is in conference with the advertising editor and does not wish to be disturbed.”
“But that doesn’t mean me. Tell him it’s Randall. I can give him a few wrinkles about advertising.”
There was a click and some muttering, then the secretary announced, “Mr. McBride thanks you for your call, but is unavailable.”
Randall breathed hard. What the hell did she mean, “Mr. McBride”? This was ol’ Gabe they were talking about. Wasn’t it?
“Then kindly give ‘Mr. McBride’ a message,” he said. “Tell him to stop playing the fool and come to the phone.”
More clicks and muttering. Then, “Mr. McBride says he will call you back.”
“Tell him to do that,” Randall said, incensed.
He was left staring at the receiver, wondering what sort of idiot game Gabe thought he was playing. He needed Randall’s help and advice, and he was damned well going to get it-just as soon as he answered the phone.
Looking around the house, he discovered a computer, and switched it on. As he’d expected, Gabe had treated himself to all the latest software.
“Are you any good with that thing?”
He turned to find Claire looking at him. Her face was neutral and there was nothing to be learned from it.
“Reasonably,” he said.
“Elaine does the accounts,” she said, “but I promised to keep them up- to-date while she’s gone.” She left the implication hanging in the air.
“I’m a dab hand with a spreadsheet.”
Luckily it was a program he knew. Claire showed him some invoices waiting to be entered, and soon he had the hang of Elaine’s system.
The hands began to drift in, full of amusement at his defection.
“Guess one day’s hard work was enough for you?” Dave said gleefully.
Randall shrugged, refusing to be provoked. “I was late getting to sleep,” he said.
Claire had avoided looking at him directly, but at this he sensed her whole body come alive. She was standing next to him and he was convinced, as surely as if he’d touched her, that the memory of last night was there in her flesh as well as her mind.
She knew what had happened as well as if he’d said the words, knew he’d lain awake most of the night, tormented by her. The awareness was like an erotic vibration coming from her, catching him up in its rhythm. It would have told him everything, even if he hadn’t been able to see the delicate pink come and go in her cheeks.
“I guess you’d just about had enough,” Dave chortled.
“Leave it, Dave,” Claire said quietly.
“Aw, c’mon-”
“I said leave it!”
The fierceness in her voice was like a burst from a flame-thrower. All the hands fell silent, astounded by an intensity they’d never seen in her before. They began to drift off, until Claire was alone with Randall.
“I’ll see Susan about some food,” she muttered and hurried into the kitchen.
But she hadn’t wanted to be alone with Randall after that moment of revelation. She hadn’t wanted to see him this morning either, not after the hectic dreams that had tormented her last night. Dreams in which his hands were always on her body, touching her intimately as no man had ever touched her before. And she’d offered herself shamelessly to his caresses.
He’d been lucky to have lain awake, for the wakeful could control their thoughts. They didn’t return to consciousness burning with shame at the way desire had overcome them while they were helpless.
She’d told Susan to let him sleep because she couldn’t face him. That was the truth. He would be bound to look at her and know that she’d taken his brotherly help and wrought it into something else.
When she’d found him at the computer she’d felt relief. They could act normally, as though the moment had never happened. But she hadn’t allowed for the mutual consciousness that had possessed them, destroying her carefully built defenses.
And then there was Gabe, whom she loved, but whose image had never tormented her like this. He didn’t want her passion, so why did she feel as though she’d betrayed him?
In the days that followed Claire was careful never to be alone with
