Campaign for Love (20 page)

 

 

He was on his feet now, cleaning his place, but seemed reluctant to
leave. She was as reluctant to have him leave. They looked at each
other longingly, and then he clinked down his place and cup, and
took a
step forward.

 

 

With a lightning-swift motion, he reached up and snatched the pins
from
her hair, throwing them on her desk. Then he combed his fingers
through
it, tumbling it around her shoulders.

 

 

Then, taking her face between his hands he kissed her firmly on the
mouth, a long, lingering kiss that sizzled right down to her toes.

 

 

But before she could mold herself to his lean, muscular frame, he
released her, turned abruptly and sought the refuge of his own
office.
For once he closed the adjoining door.

 

 

Suzanna went into the ladies room to redo her hair, and stared at
herself, bemused. She was sure she had the rumpled, beautiful look
of a
woman who had just been with her lover.

 

 

She was pleased to see she was finally beginning to get to him. She
was
glad she had squeezed in a visit to her doctor after all, and gone
on
the pill and bought condoms, just in case. The Bahamas might turn
out
to be everything she had hoped for and more.

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

 

 

Suzanna did not see Quentin for the rest of the morning, so she
tried
to concentrate on clearing her desk for the time she would be away.
She
went to lunch with Sharon, and there they were joined by Brad
Sherman.
They spent the lunch hour talking shop, but a lot of it was
speculation
on the location trip and the weather there.

 

 

She did not get any bad vibe from Brad for a change, and to her
surprise, there wasn't the least hint of innuendo about her going
with
her boss, as there might once have been.

 

 

She thought it was due to her dowdy appearance, but Grad said as
they
were clearing the table, "Have a great time in the Bahamas. You sure
do
deserve it, with all your talent."

 

 

"Thanks, Brad."

 

 

She went back to her office with her mood soaring. She had made it
in
Elder and Rubin by dint of hard work, with no favoritism. She has
just
about everything she wanted now. Everything except passion…

 

 

The rest of the day flew by, and before Suzanna realized it was
time,
Quentin was in the doorway asking, "Are you ready, Suzanna? The
limousine service is picking us up to take us to Kennedy in about
fifteen minutes."

 

 

"I just have to comb out my hair. My luggage is in the closet."

 

 

"Have you got much stuff?"

 

 

She shook her head. "I've learned to travel light. My suitcase is a
carry on, and then I have the make-up case Femme Fatale gave me."

 

 

"Okay. I'll get them, and then go down and wait in case they're
early.
It's so busy out there, there's no place to park, or even stand."

 

 

She thought he would be gone long gone by the time she was done, but
as
Suzanna came out of the lavatory, Quentin was holding her coat.

 

 

"I thought you were waiting outside for the limo?"

 

 

"I didn't want to go without you."

 

 

She smiled and slipped her arms into her coat sleeves as he held it
out
to her, then drew it over her shoulders. He pulled the hood up over
her
chestnut hair to protect it against the rain.

 

 

He pulled up the handle of her wheeled bag, and she took her make-up
kit and purse. He grabbed his own suitcase on the way through his
office, and they left looking like two lovers leaving on a romantic
getaway.

 

 

It was already quite dark when they reached the front door to the
building, and though it was only the day after Thanksgiving, there
was
a decided December chill in the air.

 

 

Quentin put his arm around her, and they shivered together on the
sidewalk for a few moments. Suzy was happy to see the limousine pull
up
right in front of them. In seconds, their luggage was stored and
they
were on their way. In just a few hours, winter would be far behind.

 

 

They went over the plans and schedules until they arrived at the
airport, met Candy and Bruce and the other Femme Fatale staff coming
on
the shoot, and boarded the plane without too much delay.

 

 

Once settled in first class, Quentin said, "Enough of the Femme
Fatal.
Business for now. Let's just enjoy ourselves."

 

 

For some reason, being enclosed with a group of assorted strangers
gave
them a carefree feeling of anonymity. They sat with their heads
close
together talking softly about themselves, and before she knew it,
they
were holding hands. If Bruce or anyone one else from Femme Fatale
noticed, they certainly didn't say a thing to spoil it.

 

 

As soon as they were airborne, the air hostesses took drink orders,
then served dinner. For the first time, Suzanna saw a dark stubble
starting to show on Quentin's flawless skin. It made him look more
human, more boyish and devil may care.

 

 

She realized he must have brought a razor with him the day before
when
he was getting ready for the Thanksgiving dinner. So he did have a
streak of vanity where she was concerned.

 

 

She reached out a tentative finger, but instead of stiff bristles,
it
was almost soft and downy. The sensual contact sent shivers down
both
their spines, and he kissed her fingers warmly.

 

 

"I sort of like you with bristles. And your jet black hair. They're
really lovely."

 

 

"You wouldn't say that if you got a burn from them if I kissed you
right now."

 

 

"Try me."

 

 

To her surprise he complied. A few minutes later he broke off the
kiss
with a shaky laugh. Then he stroked her cheeks and chin. "Hmm, not
too
bad. You must be made of tougher stuff than most women."

 

 

"It doesn't hurt at all. In fact, it was even better than one of
your
smooth, practiced kisses."

 

 

"I'm finally starting to relax," Quentin remarked. "Martinis have a
tendency to do that."

 

 

"I've noticed." Suzanna smiled. "It was probably a good idea for
both
of us to have a drink or two, and a kiss. We've had a hectic couple
of
days."

 

 

"We sure have. I just hope this trip won't turn out to be all work
and
no play for you."

 

 

"I don't see how that can happen. We certainly won't do very much
shooting at night, so even if I work all day, my evenings should be
pretty much my own. Which reminds me, where are we going to be
staying?"

 

 

"We have to go into Freeport, stay at the hotel overnight, and then
we're to take a motor launch to a small private island, owned by
Felix,
I believe. That's where we'll do all the shooting."

 

 

"It sounds so exciting."

 

 

"He's opened his home as well as his guest house to us and provided
a
cook and housekeeper. Of course, on the island he has his own boat
available if anyone wants to spend free time on the mainland."

 

 

"How lovely. It sounds like paradise."

 

 

"It will be good to get away from the northern chill, anyway."

 

 

She grinned up at him. "In more ways than one."

 

 

As they talked, both of them gradually lowered their guard, and
though
the sexual tension was chatted away like old friends without
restraint
or embarrassment. Dinner over, the trays were cleared away, and then
the cabin crew dimmed the lights for the film.

 

 

Quentin whispered, "Do you want to watch it?

 

 

"No. Do you?"

 

 

"Not at all."

 

 

He kissed her then, and she giggled at the idea of them making out
in
the movies like a couple of teens. She said as much to him when at
length he broke off the kiss.

 

 

"I must admit, I'm guilty as charged, but if you're having fun, we
might as well let you make up for what you missed as a teen."

 

 

"It is fun, but frustrating too, if you know what I mean."

 

 

"Right, well, in that case, a little rest is in order. Femme Fatale
you
most certainly are, but you need your sleep too."

 

 

They lowered their backrests and turned off their overhead lights.
He
picked up her hand, kissed it with satisfactory fervor, and linking
arms with hers, continued to hold her hand in both of his on his
lap.

 

 

Suzanna turned toward him and put her free hand on top of his. They
smiled a slow, sleepy smile at one another and were soon dozing.

 

 

They were awakened by the pilot's announcement that they would be
landing in Freeport, Grand Bahamas, in ten minutes.

 

 

As they sat up and blinked owlishly at one another, Quentin gave her
a
wicked grin and said, "I certainly enjoyed sleeping with you, my
dear."

 

 

"Thank you. I had given up all hope of ever hearing you say that."

 

 

"Does that mean you've forgiven me for all my false starts?"

 

 

"Doesn't it show?" she asked. "I have a short fuse, but the
explosion
is never very loud or prolonged."

 

 

"Then may I say that you look especially fetching when you wake up."

 

 

"Thank you. You look virile, and sort of piratical with your beard,
but
then, I've never before had a man wake up next to me."

 

 

"I feel honored. I'd feel even more honored if it were for real," he
murmured in her ear.

 

 

"That's the best part of waking up each morning. You never know when
you may get lucky."

 

 

He chuckled throatily. "That's a leading remark if I ever heard one.
You surprise me!"

 

 

She gave him a pert look. "I'm full of surprises, as you'll find out
when you get to know me better."

 

 

"You keep saying that, and I've been doing my damnedest to get to
know
you better, but it hasn't worked so far. You're still a mystery to
me.
How you can be so, well, perfect, everything a man could want, all
rolled into one."

 

 

"Unless I'm very much mistaken, this weekend will solve the mystery,
then," she answered.

 

 

"I hope so. Just as long as we both feel we're not rushing into
anything."

 

 

"No, we agreed to let things go at a natural but also rational pace.
I'm being honest, but then I have no experience, so I'm trusting you
here."

 

 

"And I you. You will let me know if anything is too much—"

 

 

She rolled her eyes. "Too little, more like."

 

 

He stroked the back of her hand. "I just don't want it to be a case
of
'careful what you wish for.'"

 

 

"Nor I for you. I've seen plenty of guys decide to settle down, only
to
literally take the first woman who came along. It's like they've
made
the logical choice, and that's as far as it goes. Never mind the
fact
that the girl is a complete head case."

 

 

He sighed. "Too true. Some of my friends went that way."

 

 

She gave him a long, assessing look. "Then there are others who have
made up their mind they won't settle down until they're forty, so
even
when the most amazing girl comes into his life, he's already decided
they basically have no future, and it's over before it's ever
begun."

 

 

He nodded. "I've seen it too. It's even worse when they date for
months, or even years, and yet he still treats her like she not 'the
one', whatever that means. So I promise you, I'm not that logical
and
close-minded.

 

 

"But worse still would be taking advantage of a woman's feeling
without
reciprocating. I'm not totally logic-driven. I think you can tell,
virgin though you are. But that's exactly why we both have to be
sure."

 

 

"Thanks for being such a gentleman about it. In every sense."

 

 

"I haven't had too many steady girlfriends over the years, but I
have
to admit, I have actually manage to stay friends with them. No
tempestuous breakups, nothing cataclysmic. I want the same for us.
And
truth to tell, I'm scared of blowing it."

 

 

She looked up at him, started. "You? Why? I'm the naïve one
here
liable to make some huge bungling error, not you."

 

 

He stroked back a stray tendril from her cheek. "I don't want to
lose
our friendship, or the best assistant a man could ever hope for,
just
because, well, I can't use my head."

 

 

"Thank you."

 

 

"And yet I sure as hell don't want to lose the chance of personal
happiness just because we happen to have met at work."

 

 

"I understand," she said, blowing out a shaky sigh of relief. "It's
been like that for me too. Trust you to hit the nail on the head as
usual."

 

 

"So long as you also understand that I have both of our best
interests
at heart, not just my own."

 

 

She laughed. "You've more than proven that."

 

 

"So we're just going to go down here, do the Femme Fatale work, and
have whatever fun we can in the tropics without feeling the pressure
to
er, perform."