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Authors: Iris Johansen

BOOK: Capture the Rainbow
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Her hands were running caressingly through his thick, dark hair. It felt as clean and vibrant as the rest of him. “I try to be,” she said vaguely. Her face clouded as she remembered that she hadn’t been entirely honest tonight with either Dave or Skip. How could she have been when there was so much at stake? But she wouldn’t think of that now. It brought a return of the crushing heaviness that seemed to be always with her and that, miraculously, had lifted for the last few hours. “Sometimes it’s not so easy,” she said uncertainly. “But I like to think that I’m a fairly honest person.” Her face was as troubled as an open, innocent child. “Does it matter to you?”

He felt a sudden melting tenderness that was as poignant as it was unexpected. She looked so vulnerable and unhappy after her brief burst of joyous merriment that he felt a surge of fierce protectiveness, completely at odds with the desire wracking him. Immediately he experienced defensive anger. Dammit, what was the woman doing to him?

“Your honesty matters a hell of a lot,” he said at last and with soft menace. “You won’t find me very lenient if you ever decide that being honest with me is a little too ‘difficult’ for you, Kendra. I won’t tolerate you cheating on me. While we’re together, there won’t be any other men in your bed.” His lips curved in a mirthless smile as he gazed down at her bewildered face. His hand deliberately fell from her shoulders to the curve of her buttocks and brought her swiftly into the cradle of his hips so that she could feel the bold hardness of his arousal. His smile deepened at the gasp that she gave as her hands clenched spasmodically on his shoulders. “As you can see, I plan to keep you very occupied from now on.”

Then without waiting for her to reply, his mouth was once again on hers and this time there was no tentativeness and very little tenderness. His hot passion was so intense it was almost brutal. She made a soft moan of protest that was almost inaudible. He must have heard it, however, for abruptly the harshness ceased though the tenderness didn’t return. Instead, he practiced a skilled voluptuousness that wooed her into blind, submissive need. She writhed in his cupping hands like a wild thing. Her lips and tongue responded to him with a thirst that mirrored the hunger she felt in his tense, hard body.

He broke away and there was a look of grim satisfaction on his face as he took in the wild rose flush on her cheeks and the bruised softness of her lips. “You’re a very hot lady, Kendra Michaels,” he drawled, a flicker of triumph in his eyes. “Which is damn fortunate for me. If I’m going to be caught in this sweet little trap, I’ll be damned if you won’t be there with me.”

“Trap?”

“Never mind.” He was suddenly on his feet and lifting her from the bed. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” He picked up the chiffon wrap from where it had fallen on the bed and drew it carefully around her. Then he was grasping her by the wrist and pulling her toward the door.

“But where are we going?” she asked, startled. She was knocked totally off balance first by the most intense, sensual euphoria she’d ever experienced and now by this sudden about-face.

“If we stay here another five minutes, all those coats and capes are going to end up on the floor and we’re going to be between the sheets.” His lips tightened grimly. “And everyone downstairs will put two and two together and be trying to imagine just exactly what we’re doing to one another in that bed.” He shot her a dark glance. “Ordinarily, I wouldn’t give a damn, but for some reason I’m feeling as possessive as the devil about you. I won’t let those bastards run their thoughts over you any more than I will let their hands.” He paused at the door to take out his pristine white handkerchief and dab at her lips. “You’re a little mussed,” he said and smiled as his other hand tidied her hair. “Delightful, but too obvious all the same.”

He opened the door and propelled her down the corridor, his hand cupping her elbow with an impersonal courtesy.

“We’re going back to the party?” she asked, confused. They started down the stairs.

“No way,” he said, adroitly avoiding a couple standing on the bottom step. He gently guided her across the foyer to the front door. “We’re getting out of this zoo.”

She tried to push the shock and disappointment away. She didn’t want to go home. She had never known such magic. She wanted it to go on and on forever. “You’re taking me home?”

“In a manner of speaking,” he answered quietly, an enigmatic expression on his face. He opened the front door and allowed her to precede him. “Yes, we’re going home now, Kendra.”

TWO

“I
LLUSION DE L’
A
RC
en Ciel.”
The headlights picked out the beautifully scripted engraving on the stone gatepost and Kendra repeated the words softly. “
The Illusion of the Rainbow.
What a strange name for a house.”

Joel raised an eyebrow quizzically as he pressed the button on the dashboard that electronically opened the iron gates. He had been silent since they left the house in Laurel Canyon. She hadn’t minded his quiet moodiness once she realized he had no intention of driving her to her apartment in Fullerton, but to some unknown destination of his own. She hadn’t been curious about that destination either. Content, she let her head loll on the plush silver gray headrest, while her eyes feasted on the sight outside the passenger window: the star-strewn, glittering blanket of the sky. Occasionally her gaze had roved to the dark, intent face of the man at the wheel.

“Illusion de l’Arc en Ciel,”
Joel said. “So you know French.”

“Only a little,” she said as she watched him drive through the gates that slid silently closed behind them. “High school stuff. Why
The Illusion of the Rainbow?

He laughed with genuine amusement. “Do you know that’s the first question you’ve asked me since we left the house? You’re placing a remarkable amount of trust in a complete stranger. How do you know I’m not whisking you away to some isolated retreat for some S and M games?”

How ridiculous he was. Sorcerers didn’t have to resort to whips and bondage when they could have anything they wanted by exerting their potent magic. “I just do,” she said serenely. “Why
The Illusion of the Rainbow?
” she persisted.

He shrugged. “Why not? There’s nothing real about a rainbow. It’s a mirage, a dream: here for an instant and vanishing the next. All of life is like that if you think about it. Nothing is really stable enough to hold on to for more than a moment.” His lips curved in a curiously bittersweet smile. “So when I create something, anything that may become special to me, I build in a safety device to remind me of the evanescence of the rainbow. It saves me from foolish emotional involvement.”

What an incredible degree of weariness and vulnerability was contained in those few terse words. They pierced the clear golden bubble that surrounded her and the poignancy of feeling caused her throat to tighten achingly.

“And is this house special to you?” she asked gently. “I never heard about any other house of yours except the one in Laurel Canyon.”

“You might say it’s special,” he said with a wariness that sent a surge of maternal tenderness through her. “I needed a place to come to when I couldn’t stand all the phoniness anymore. I had the estate transported almost stone for stone from its site in France—Normandy to be precise—and then had it renovated to my specifications.” He shot a mocking glance at her. “It has a dungeon, but no torture chamber, I assure you.” His expression changed to total seriousness. “And no one knows about this house for the very good reason that I paid a small fortune in hush money to keep it that way. Even my secretary doesn’t know about
Illusion de l’Arc en Ciel.
I’d have reporters and sycophants crawling all over the place if there were a leak.” His voice deepened with intensity. “And this place is
mine,
dammit.”

The Mercedes abruptly swung around a curve in the road and Kendra caught her breath in surprise at the sight that met her eyes.

He’d called it an estate but it resembled more an old Norman Keep complete with drawbridge. Its ancient stone walls shone dull silver in the moonlight, and it was set among a thick grove of trees like a small elegant castle from another age should be. No, not elegant, she thought. The Keep was too primitive to be termed elegant. It was no fairy-tale palace but a fortress of tranquillity. A warrior’s last bastion of defense.

“It’s very…impressive,” she managed to say at last. It was more than that, she thought as they crossed the lowered drawbridge and passed into a little cobblestone courtyard. It was as revealing as a spotlight on the man behind that mocking sorcerer’s mask, and suddenly she wanted to know more, understand more about him than his physical magic that had so captivated her. “How long have you owned it?”

He got out of the car and came around to open the passenger door. “I first saw the Keep when I was a boy of seven. My mother and I were staying at a château a few kilometers away and I would run away and spend the entire day on the grounds whenever I got the chance.” He helped her out of the car. Slipping an arm around her waist, he propelled her toward an enormous oak door in a shadowy recess. “I suppose a real fortress had a certain fascination for a wild young hellion straight from the hothouse atmosphere of the proper château his mother dominated. I felt somehow that the Keep belonged to me. I took one look at it and I knew it was mine.” He opened the door with a key that was ridiculously tiny given the apparent size of the lock. One of Joel’s renovations, she thought hazily as he pushed open the door and fumbled at the wall. His voice echoed hollowly in the darkness. “It’s become something of an obsession with me. When I was a boy in school, I’d hoard my allowance until I had enough to buy the furnishings and little art objects that occasionally came on the market from the Keep.”

The enormous hall was suddenly illuminated by electric candles in the huge central chandelier. “About seven years ago, the Keep itself came on the market and I bought it and had it shipped over here and reassembled.”

“You waited a long time,” she murmured, her gaze going around the room with wondering eyes.

She could understand why Joel’s voice had echoed. The ceiling of the hall must have been fifty feet high and timbered in rich oak, as was the wide staircase that led to the balcony surrounding the second floor. The walls and floor were composed of the original smooth block stone and had a stark, brutal beauty that was softened by the richness of the cream and burgundy area rugs on the floor. A magnificent medieval tapestry graced the wall over a mammoth walk-in fireplace. The fireplace was large enough to roast an ox and probably had been used for just that in the distant past. She was jarred out of her appraisal by Joel’s hand on her elbow urging her toward the staircase.

“There have been very few things in my life I’ve found worth waiting for, but when I do find one, you’ll discover I have a great deal of patience.” He was propelling her up the stairs. “However, you’ll notice I’m very short on that quality at the moment, so it’s fortunate that it’s not necessary in this case.” His lips curved mockingly. “It simplifies things enormously that we understand each other so well, doesn’t it, Kendra?”

Understand each other? He may have felt that he understood her, but in spite of her occasional flashes of clarity about his personality she was still very much puzzled by him. Somehow that fillip of uncertainty only added to the excitement and exhilaration she was experiencing as she allowed him to lead her up the stairs and then through another door on the upper level. It led to a steep circular stone staircase lit by electric torches affixed to the curved walls. The tower, she thought vaguely, enjoying the sound of their footsteps on the smooth stone. It was all like a lovely dream—coming to this ancient stronghold and moving with Joel through these echoing corridors toward a mysterious secret chamber at the top of the world. Would there be steaming cauldrons and balls of crystal in the warlock’s lair? At the moment she felt anything was possible—even probable—and the prospect filled her with even greater anticipation.

That anticipation was more than fulfilled when he unlocked the chamber at the top of the stairs and stepped aside so that she could precede him into the room. She had expected magic and magic she received—if not exactly the kind associated with crystal balls and potent elixirs.

So flooded with light was the stark aesthetic chamber that she first thought the room was artificially illuminated. Then she realized it was moonlight that was cascading through the glass-paneled walls and etching chessboard patterns of light and shadow in the conically shaped room. Kendra moved slowly into the room and gazed around her incredulously. It was like being in the center of a greenhouse or a crystal-faceted genie bottle. The leaded glass walls started only a few feet from the slate floor and towered to a point some thirty feet above her. The only furnishings in the room were a king-size bed that was covered with a simple white wool spread and a chest at the foot of the bed with polished brass bracketing.

“This room is magnificent,” she exclaimed softly. “I’ve never even imagined a place like this could exist.” She turned toward Joel who was watching her from a spot near the door. “I can see why you said it was special to you.” Her eyes met his across the room and she knew a strange melting sensation as she rushed on hurriedly, “Thank-you for sharing it with me.” Then, as he still didn’t answer but continued to gaze at her with an unnerving intentness, she faltered. “But I’m afraid I don’t understand why you did. Share this lovely place, I mean. You’ve really never brought anyone here before?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea what possessed me to bring you here.” He closed the door and leaned against it indolently. “I’ve been known to give in to errant impulses on occasion. Perhaps it was that.” He shrugged. “Or maybe it was because I had the exact same sensation when I first caught sight of you as I did when I first saw the Keep. A rainbow lady for my place of rainbows. Perhaps I just wanted to see the two of you together.” His hand went to a mother-of-pearl switch on the wall. “Stand still, sweetheart, and indulge my whim. I’ll turn on the exterior lights.”

Place of rainbows. Suddenly the bedroom became just that as the intricately placed lights came into radiant play and she realized what caused that chessboard effect. The panels weren’t all clear glass as she had originally supposed, but interspersed with delicately tinted shades of shell-pink, spring-green, azure, topaz, and rich violet. Rainbow colors were pouring into the room like the brilliant rays of an alien sun. It turned the pearl-gray slate of the stone floors, as well as the simple white wool spread on the king-size bed, into a sea of color, and she realized why the room was furnished with such severe restraint. Any embellishment would have been totally unnecessary in the center of a rainbow.

“Ahhh….” Joel expelled his breath in a soft burst of satisfaction. His gaze fixed on her as she looked up at him in startled wonder. She was bathed in a ray of pure golden light that turned her skin to tawny amber and her chestnut hair to bright flame. “Yes, that’s why I brought you here. That’s what I wanted to see. You’re a very lovely illusion, Kendra Michaels.” He was moving very slowly toward her. “It’s really a pity that you’re not real.” He was so close she could feel the heat of his body as he halted before her; he was also caught in the prism of golden light. His lips twisted cynically and he looked like a gilded statue of Lucifer.

“But I’ve grown accustomed to illusions, so why should it matter? Particularly when this particular one is so willing to accommodate my every whim?” His head bent and his lips lightly brushed her naked shoulder causing her to inhale sharply at the little tingle of shock that shook her.

She couldn’t breathe for a moment, trying to steady the pounding of her heart as she felt the warmth of his tongue moving across her throat, then the gentle nip of his teeth at her earlobe. She could smell the lovely aroma of him again as she had in the bedroom at Laurel Canyon. Her senses were assaulted by a deluge of sensations. Could anything be more beautiful than standing here in the center of this exquisite rainbow mist and letting Joel touch her in this thrilling way? She’d never realized that lovemaking could be so magical. She had always thought she must be a little cold, that her rough and tumble upbringing had instilled in her the tomboyishness that precluded the explosive sexuality she was feeling now.

But she had never had a sorcerer like Joel Damon to perform this magic, she thought dizzily, as his hands fell on her bare shoulders and then curved around her nape to tilt her head back and give his lips the freedom to explore the arched column of her throat. That probably made all the difference.

“Beautifully willing, beautifully responsive. What more could a man want?” His lips moved to the sensitive flesh beneath her chin. “And you are that willing, aren’t you, rainbow lady?”

“Yes, I’m willing,” she finally said aloud. His satisfied chuckle jarred her. There was a note of triumph in the sound that disturbed the joyous serenity filling her. Her behavior with Joel tonight was completely out of sync with the way she usually behaved, but it hadn’t seemed to matter. Nothing had seemed to matter except grasping this lovely moment before it slipped away and she was plunged back into the tension and worry of everyday life. Yet hadn’t Joel Damon made several enigmatic and bitter comments this evening? And now she could feel that tension and smoldering resentment even as he touched and caressed her. There was something wrong, something that should be said. Something that she should understand.

“Joel, I think we—”

“Don’t think.” His hands were threading through her hair and his voice was suddenly harsh. “Rainbow ladies shouldn’t think. They should only feel.” His lips were on hers and his tongue invaded her mouth, receiving its moist sweetness. His hands tugged gently at her hair as his lips left hers. “And touch. Touch me, Kendra. I want to have your hands on me.”

She felt that now familiar breathlessness, accompanied by the sensation of melting. “I want that, too,” she said faintly. Her palms came up to rest lightly against his chest; her fingers brushed the lapels of his jacket aside. She could feel the abrupt jerk of his heart beneath her hand and the heat of his skin through the fine material of his dress shirt. Then she was eagerly unbuttoning his shirt and slipping her hands inside to run them curiously over the hard muscular wall of his chest. She closed her eyes, savoring the delicious smoothness of his sleek warm flesh covering that exciting hardness of tendon and muscle. She could feel her palms tingle as the blood rushed to the sensitive surface. She took her time exploring the patch of dark wiry hair on his chest and the tiny pale nipples that hardened with amazing speed. Her fingertips brushed lightly over their rigid nubs. She heard him chuckle and her eyes flew open.

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