Bride in Barbados (4 page)

She wound up the act with a slow, soulful tune pulsing
with heartache and lost love. As she finished and bowed to loud
applause, she made the mistake of glancing once more at the stranger.
His dark eyes held her gaze immobile for an instant and she saw a
slight smile curve his firmly sculptured mouth, as if he were aware of
a message passing between them.

Urged by the continuing applause to do an encore, she
switched to a lighthearted song, putting all she had into it and not
looking again at the disturbing man near the stage.

It was a relief to return to her sweltering dressing room.
She hoped he wouldn't still be there for her second performance, as he
had been the night before. But he was. Irritated by his persistent
presence, she ignored him completely and by the time she was well into
the act, she had almost forgotten him.

Or she bought she had forgotten him until, upon returning
to the dressing room to remove the heavy stage makeup and change into
street clothes, she found that she was even more tired than usual after
a performance. She attributed this to the effort of will she had
expended to dismiss the man's unwavering stare.

She removed her makeup quickly, reapplying a light dusting
of powder and pale lip gloss. After hanging the black dress in the
narrow makeshift closet, she slipped into the sliver of a sleeveless
red silk dress she had worn to work, knotting the tie belt loosely for
comfort.

If only her car, which had had an odd little knock in its
motor the past couple of days, didn't break down on her way home, she
thought wearily. She was stuffing makeup into her black bag when Dirk
Cantino walked into the dressing room, leaving the door ajar.

"I remembered you told me you don't eat until after
performing, so I'm having the chef send two lobster dinners up to my
room. You look as if you could use some nourishment."

His seeming concern did not fool her. She would have
walked out immediately, but his tuxedoed form was blocking the door. "I
told you earlier, Dirk. I can't make it tonight."

His sangfroid slipped a little. "What is it this time?
Expecting a call from your mother? Feel a cold coming on? Or have you
thought of another excuse? You're beginning to try my patience,
sweetheart. Need I remind you that a word from me and you'll be out on
the street?"

"I'm sorry, Dirk, but I have a… previous
engagement." She attempted to move past him, but he detained her by
clasping her arm roughly.

Instantly she became still, sensing that struggling would
only make him more aggressive. In his rigid face she saw the effort
required for him to stifle his anger. "You're lying, Susan." She still
did not move or speak and, finally, a semblance of his usually charming
smile erased the frown lines on his forehead. "Okay, honey, I get the
message. You want to play hard-to-get. So we'll just have a few drinks
and dinner and talk about that job in Vegas. We can at least be
friends, can't we?"

"Are you ready, Susan?"

Both Susan and Dirk turned in surprise to see a tall
shadowy masculine form looming just behind them in the narrow hall. It
was the dark stranger who had watched her with such intensity during
her performances the last two evenings.

Dirk scowled at the man and inquired in an aggrieved tone,
"Who the hell are you?"

The man offered his hand, but his tone of voice was
drawlingly amused. "Travis Sennett."

Dirk muttered his name and shook hands with rude
reluctance. "Miss Warren and I have an appointment for dinner," said
Travis Sennett, "so if you will excuse us, Cantino… ?" For
the first time, his glance moved to Susan, who didn't know whether to
be grateful or insulted by the man's audacity.

Dirk seemed to be considering objecting, but Travis
Sennett's calmly challenging look and superior size evidently made him
think better of it. He excused himself curtly and walked stiffly away.

Susan found herself looking up into dark eyes that, as she
had already discovered, seemed to be able to probe through her skin and
lay her thoughts bare. She felt her face grow warm. "Thank you, Mr.
Sennett."

He shrugged. "I heard enough to realize that you needed
rescuing."

"I wasn't in any danger," Susan informed him, "but your
arrival interrupted what, I'm afraid, might have become
quite… unpleasant. I have no idea what you're doing here,
though. We haven't met before, have we?"

His crooked smile told her he knew that
she
knew they hadn't. "I heard you tell your unwanted Romeo that you had a
previous engagement. Do you?"

"No," she admitted. "It seemed the easiest way out of the
situation. Actually, I'm dead tired and plan to go straight home."

"I also gathered from what I heard that you haven't had
dinner. I would like it very much if you'd have it with me. There's an
all-night restaurant not far from here. It's not quite as elegant as
the Top Hat, but the food's very good. You have to eat somewhere, and I
promise to see you home promptly after the meal."

"I have my car outside." It was the only objection she
could think of. To her surprise, the thought of having dinner with this
handsome stranger was not unappealing. She did have to eat somewhere,
and a meal of scrambled eggs and toast in her tiny apartment didn't
seem as appetizing as it had a few minutes earlier.

"No problem," he told her. "I'm from out of town and don't
have a car here. We can take yours to the restaurant, after which I'll
get a taxi back to the hotel."

"You're staying in
this
hotel?"

He nodded. "Fortunately. Otherwise I might never have
heard you sing and come back here to meet you. And we wouldn't be going
to dinner together." He smiled disarmingly, strong white teeth flashing
in the deep tan of his face. "You are going to say yes, aren't you?"

Susan contemplated the rugged planes of his face with a
feeling of wariness. For a moment she just stood there, wondering if
she was crazy to be considering going out with Travis Sennett. She
suspected that she found him too attractive for her own good. And it
wasn't just his admittedly striking physical attributes either; she
sensed a strength in him that she had rarely seen in the men who had
been, for whatever reason, drawn to her—men like Frank and
Dirk.

She knew that she possessed a strength of her own,
developed in the five years since she had left college and chosen the
difficult, demanding route to becoming a professional singer. Perhaps
men like Frank and Dirk had been unconsciously attracted by that
strength. But somehow she knew that Travis Sennett wasn't a man who
needed to rely on anyone. Rather, he had a confident self-assurance
that others would find reassuring, and maybe that was what she found so
appealing in him. What would it be like, she wondered fleetingly, to
have someone to lean on occasionally?

In the same instant, she told herself that such questions
were academic. Travis Sennett would undoubtedly be returning to his
home, wherever that was, in a few days. She wouldn't be likely to see
him again, so what harm could come of having dinner with him?

"All right," she agreed finally. "I'd like to have dinner
with you, Mr. Sennett."

Strong fingers cupped her elbow as they walked toward the
back parking lot entrance. "The name's Travis, Susan."

She flicked a brief glance in his direction as they
walked. He was well over six feet; his black hair formed itself
attractively to his well-shaped head without aid of dressing or spray.
The hair had the mere suggestion of a wave to it as it fell to his
collar, thick and gleaming with blue-black highlights under the
electric lights in the hall. His cream linen jacket and tan trousers
were expensively tailored to a perfect fit. The jacket was open,
showing a cream silk shirt tucked into a neat waistband, hinting at the
hard, lithe body underneath.

He held the door open for her and she led the way to her
four-year-old Chevrolet. She got behind the wheel unhesitatingly,
knowing that she didn't need to bolster his ego by asking him to drive.
Indeed, she suspected that Travis Sennett's confidence in his
masculinity could withstand whatever blows it received and remain
unscathed.

He slid into the passenger seat. When she started the
engine, it coughed briefly before taking hold. He threw a glance over
her as she backed from the parking space. "Shouldn't you have that
knock in the motor attended to?"

She left the parking lot and turned in the direction he
indicated before replying. "I'm planning to find a mechanic tomorrow."
She frowned slightly. "If I'm lucky, it will be something easily
fixed—and inexpensive."

He gave her a dry smile. "Sounds rather serious to me. It
shouldn't take more than a couple of days to repair, but it could be
more costly than you might expect." Apparently, from her job and the
age of her car, he had summed up her shaky financial situation rather
well.

"Thank you for taking pity on a wayfarer," he remarked,
and when she looked his way, gave her a brief crooked smile that held
warmth and male allure. "I didn't relish the idea of going to a
restaurant alone, and it's too late to order dinner from room service.
By the way, you look lovely in that dress."

Susan's smile was ironic. "Thank you, but I'm not going to
back out of dinner, so you needn't bother to flatter me."

"I don't say things I don't mean, Susan," he replied
calmly. "Nor do I flatter people in an effort to ingratiate myself. I
might have lived an easier life if I did." He lounged back against the
seat, totally at ease with himself, with her and apparently with her
driving. He was certainly a contrast to Frank, who had always been
uneasy with women drivers and, in fact, had usually insisted on driving
whenever they went anywhere together, even in her car.

Recalling the cramped, uninspiredly drab apartment where
she had lived since coming to Miami, she was suddenly glad that she had
agreed to have dinner with Travis Sennett. Nevertheless, she had a
small nagging suspicion that she might regret it in the morning. But
she told herself that was absurd and, for the present, her spirits
lifted. She also told herself that it didn't matter that she was deeply
conscious of Travis Sennett's lean, muscled body beside her. It was, in
fact, somewhat irksome to discover that she was just as aware of him
now as she had been earlier that night when he had watched her
performance so intently.

All of this she dismissed rather easily as she decided
that she didn't regret her decision, in spite of pulses that were
leaping rather too quickly. They were ships passing in the night, so
why not relax and enjoy her dinner?

The restaurant he had chosen was dimly lit, its atmosphere
one of subdued good taste and, in spite of what he had said, clearly
expensive. Walking to their table, she was aware of interested glances
from men and got an impression of wealth taken-for-granted from the
understated elegance of the women's clothing.

She was used to performing in such surroundings, but much
less accustomed to being one of the customers. The place was definitely
well above her income bracket. Taking the chair the waiter held for
her, she lifted her chin high, determined that Travis Sennett should
not see the uncertainty in her emerald eyes.

Taking the chair across from her, Travis ran an appraising
eye over her. "You put them all in the shade, Susan," he said quietly,
startling her. Then he accepted a menu from the waiter and studied it
with seeming interest, leaving Susan to recover from her surprise that
he had so easily discerned her true feelings. When they had ordered, he
said, "So—sultry Susan Warren." He surprised her again by
remembering the way she was described on the advertising posters that
were scattered about the hotel. "Do you enjoy what you do?"

She fingered her cutlery, her eyes meeting his faintly
mocking expression. "It's a living," she told him lightly.

He gazed at her from beneath thick black lashes. "Only a
living? I'm sure you don't have to sing for your supper, Susan. An
attractive, intelligent young woman like you could find a job in any
number of other areas."

"As a matter of fact, my college major was business. I
wanted to be able to work in an office if worse came to worst. Singing
is a highly precarious business. I've managed to work fairly steadily
at it but, goodness knows, I'm not setting the world on fire."

"You're a talented singer, but you sound as if you're
rather disillusioned by it all."

She leaned forward slightly and gave in to the urge to
unburden herself that Travis Sennett's calmness and strength seemed to
elicit in her. "I'm no longer as naive and starry-eyed about the
profession as I was five years ago when I left college. I know that I'm
passably good as a singer, but good singers are a dime a dozen. If I've
learned anything these past five years, it's that it takes a lot more
than being able to sing to get to the top."

Travis smiled wryly. "A willingness to be…
friendly to the likes of Dirk Cantino?"

The creamy tan of her skin grew flushed, but she returned
his smile. "Dirk couldn't help my career, even if I encouraged him. But
it's no secret that one of the ways for a female performer to get that
all-important big chance is by cultivating a man who can give it to
her. But there's more to it than that." She spoke seriously. "You have
to be relentless. Singing has to be at the top of your list of
priorities. And you have to be in the right place at the right time. If
I were absolutely driven to succeed, for example, I'd probably be in
Nashville or Hollywood now, using all my free time to make the rounds
of agents' and producers' offices." Abruptly realizing the absurdity of
telling all of this to a stranger, she sat back and concluded on an
off-hand note. "Let's just say that the glittering world of show
business is looking rather tarnished to me at the moment."