Dreamkeepers (15 page)

“Yeah. I got a quarter under my pillow when I lost this tooth.” He opened his mouth wide. “Mom said the tooth fairy left it.”

“Well, what do you know. I wasn’t sure there was a tooth fairy.”

“Yeah, there is. I put the quarter in my bank. I wanted to buy bubble gum, but mom said no.”

Jonathan got up and put his hand on the boy’s head. “We’ve settled that then, haven’t we, scout?”

“Settled what? And my name is Amos.”

“I thought we’d decided Chad was dumb, your mom right, and that there really is a Santa Claus.”

The boy gave a toothless grin. “Yeah.”

Jonathan lifted Kelly’s coat from the hook, the boy following after him.

“You got any kids, mister?”

“No, but I’ve got a wife.”

“Oh.” The boy looked at Kelly and dismissed her. “I was gonna tell ya that if ya had kids to tell ’em not to ride on the handlebars.”

“Well, if I had any, I’d be sure to tell them. Bye, scout. Take care of yourself.”

“My name’s Amos,” the boy called as they went out the door.

“Some conversation,” Kelly commented as they walked the narrow hallway.

“He was a dandy. All boy.” His face was pensive for a moment, then he smiled down at her. “Everything okay with you? Did you get what you came for?” She nodded and he put an arm across her shoulders and squeezed. “I hope it’s a good strong one. It’s going to get a lot of use.”

Kelly blushed to the roots of her hair and tried to look cross and failed. “You’ve got a one track mind.”

“Two tracks. I’m hungry. How about pizza?”

“Sure.”

They paused for the traffic light to change, then strode across the wide street.

“What about tonight?”

“What about it?”

“Where do you want to eat? What do you think I meant?”

“I didn’t know what track you were on. I don’t care where we eat as long as it isn’t fancy.”

“How about the room? We can have something sent up. Maybe there’s a sexy movie on closed-circuit television.” She laughed up at him, he grinned down at her, and they ran into a man carrying a large bundle. Jonathan apologized and they continued down the street.

The movie was a comedy. In spite of herself, Kelly found herself enjoying it. They had eaten a delicious meal, shared a bottle of wine, and thumbed through the current newspapers. Now curled up against the big fluffy pillows, Kelly watched television while Jonathan lounged on the end of the bed. Instead of the filmy white nightdress, she wore a nightshirt that came down to her knees. Always in her memory were the other nights she had spent in this room. Here she had reached boundless heights of ecstasy and lived her happiest moments.

She was so absorbed in her own thoughts that the movie ended and she continued to stare at the long list of credits. She was only half-aware of Jonathan reaching for the remote control button and stretching out a hand to stroke one finger down her cheek with a featherlight touch. Her thoughts shifted as he moved up close to her, disturbingly, tantalizingly handsome in his pajama bottoms, his chest bare, his freshly washed hair fluffy from the hair dryer.

“I don’t think you realize how sweet an invitation you are, sitting there in your nightshirt . . . your eyes all dreamy . . . your mouth soft . . .”

She didn’t move and he drew her against him, bending his head and hesitating for an unbearable moment before touching her lips. All the emotional bruising of the time spent in Boston and the months since flowed and melted away under the balm of his lips. Her mouth clung in a moment of incredible sweetness.

Very softly she said, “Jack.”

He lifted his head and was perfectly still, letting his eyes, soft with love, drink in her face. Then, with a deep sigh, he took her in his arms and held her close, her head buried in his shoulder, while he gently stroked her hair. He didn’t say a word, but turned her face to his and kissed her mouth, fiercely, passionately. Kelly closed her eyes and moved sensuously closer to him.

His lips left hers and he looked directly into her eyes, a faint smile softening his mouth.

“This is the woman I married,” he murmured. “Soft, sweet, but spunky, willful . . .”

In a sort of fascination she watched his hands slide over her body and lift the nightshirt up and over her head. He moved her down until she lay across the bed. The soft light of the lamp shone on his hair as he bent his head. She felt the feathery touch of it against her skin, then the warm caress of his lips in the curve of her neck.

Sudden tears ached behind her eyes. She moved her hand to the back of his head and gently stroked his hair.

“It isn’t the same, is it?” she whispered into the cheek pressed to her lips.

“No, darling,” he said between kisses. “It’s better. Much better.” This was not the cold-eyed Boston businessman speaking. This was Jack, her lover: tender and affectionate, his eyes warm with love.

From then on nothing mattered except satisfying their desperate need for each other. They swirled in a mindless vortex of pleasure created by caressing fingertips, biting teeth, and closely entwined limbs. It was long and rapturous, that worshipping of bodies, and when they finally came together, it was forceful, but ecstatic and only momentarily satisfying. Time and again he drew her to him, seemingly tireless, murmuring softly of the hunger that gnawed at him and the thirst for the mouth she offered so willingly.

They made love deep into the night, until sheer exhaustion sent Jonathan into a deep sleep and Kelly into that void between sleep and awareness. As she lay molded to his body, her head resting on his chest, she finally accepted that Jonathan was Jack and she loved him. She wept silently.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“G
OOD MORNING, SLEEPING BEAUTY.”
Jonathan’s voice spoke softly in her ear. She opened one eye. Light filled the room, gilding the red roses on the bedside table. She opened the other eye and surveyed the pale yellow walls, rich mahogany furniture . . . and a gorgeous male body bending over hers. She ran her fingertips lightly over his chest, as if to make sure he was real. He was. She smiled, then yawned and stretched.

“I’ve been waiting half an hour. I thought you’d never wake up!” He sounded more like a small boy than a lover, and she laughed.

“I was tired.” She smiled again and let her fingers move across his chest to a nipple. It had been a long, delicious night.

“Complaining?”

“Are you kidding me?”

He looked tenderly into her eyes, and there was something in his face she hadn’t seen for a long while—a kind of unfettered love she had thought she would never see again.

“I love you, Kelly . . . love you . . .” His words melted on her lips and when she tried to speak, her words kept fading, swept away by his kisses.

“Jonathan . . .”

“Don’t say anything.” His lips covered hers before she could speak. “Are you sleepy, darling?” His voice was a whisper when they finally broke the kiss. She was curled up in his arms, one leg braided between his.

“Mm-hmm . . . Jonathan?”

“Yes, love?”

“What are we going to do?”

“We’re going to take one day at a time, sweetheart.” His voice was soft and his warm breath tickled her ear.

“But, Jonathan . . .”

“Shhh . . .”

“Jonathan . . .” This time she forgot what she was going to say as his body slid slowly over hers and she was swept away, adrift on a cloud of sensation as his whole being seemed to enter hers.

Two more hours passed as they made love, dozed, and made love again. Then they were standing beneath the stinging spray of the shower, laughing about the luxurious use of hot water, soaping each other, teasing. She lifted her face for his kiss and the stream of water hit her full in the face.

“I’ll drown,” she gasped.

He grasped her soap slick body and pulled it tight against him. “What a way to go!”

“You’re obscene!” She giggled and leaned her forehead against his chest.

Kelly’s happy glow lasted all through the breakfast brought to their room by a white-coated busboy. She ate as if she were starved, finishing off tiny sausages, fluffy eggs, and a Danish roll dripping with melted butter. They smiled into each other’s eyes often and, when possible, Jonathan reached out to touch her thigh, her arm, or flutter fingertips across her cheek.

“Still want to go back to the resort today?” he asked. They were drinking coffee, the breakfast dishes having been removed.

“I can’t wear these clothes for four days.”

“You won’t have to. Your clothes are here. I had them shipped out from Boston.” He watched her anxiously.

“Why did you do that?” There was a shadow of concern in her eyes.

“I wanted you to have them. I lived in an apartment here in Anchorage for a month before coming out to the resort. I can’t turn loose everything all at once, no matter how much I want to. The apartment serves as a headquarters along with the office I established here. I brought all your things there. I wanted you to have them . . . no matter what.”

The tender regard in his eyes made her hand tremble as she reached out to him. He took her hand silently. What could she say?

“What are you thinking?” His voice was strained.

“Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

“Okay, I’ll put on my glad-rags and we’ll do up the town.” She smiled wickedly at him and caressed him with her eyes. He looked as happy as a small boy and she wanted to throw her arms around him.

“Shall we go to the apartment? You can cook my breakfast tomorrow morning. Blueberry pancakes.”

“Can I take the roses?”

“The hotel will send them over with the rest of our things. First I’ve got to go to the office and take care of a few urgent matters. At least Mark thinks they’re urgent.” He handed her a key from his pocket. “Take a cab and I’ll meet you there in a couple of hours.” He scribbled an address on a card. “Tell the doorman who you are and he’ll take care of you.”

After pausing beside the desk to leave instructions about the bill and their luggage, they left the hotel together. Jonathan put Kelly in a waiting taxi, handed the driver some money, and gave the address of the apartment building. He stood on the sidewalk and watched the cab drive away.

Kelly was in love again and gloriously happy. She smiled to herself, her blue eyes dancing, her face reflecting the warm glow of feeling loved. How had she allowed Jack and Jonathan to become two separate people in her mind? A little tremor trilled down her spine. Thank God he had forced her to make this trip. It would be hard to wait until she could be with him again.

A blast of horns brought her from her reverie. The taxi dodged into a lane of traffic, crossed a busy intersection, made its way down a tree-lined street of apartment buildings, and pulled into a circular drive. The building was ultra-modern and ultra-expensive, Kelly thought without cynicism. She had become a reverse snob, she admitted reluctantly. It wasn’t Jonathan’s fault he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, any more than it was hers that she wasn’t.

Kelly crossed to the large, glass door that opened automatically as she approached. The inside of the building fairly screamed the word “exclusive” and the man who came to meet her looked like the maître’d at some posh French restaurant.

“May I be of help?” His tone clearly implied that she had wandered into the wrong building. Kelly bristled.

“I’m Mrs. Jonathan Templeton. Will you direct me to our apartment? My husband will be along in a couple of hours.”

“I’m afraid I’ll need identification, madam.” He stood in front of her as if guarding the Mint.

“My key.” She showed it to him and dug into her purse. “My driver’s license.” Pure deviltry made her add, “Will you need to frisk me?”

His face turned a dull red and she was instantly sorry for her flip words.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Templeton. Rules . . .”

“No.
I’m
sorry. I understand the need for such rules.” She smiled so sweetly that the stern face almost relaxed.

He led the way down the thickly carpeted hallway, paused beside a table holding a beautiful potted plant and pushed a button. Paneled doors opened silently and Kelly stepped into the elevator.

“Insert your key in number five on the panel, ma’am. The elevator will take you to the fifth floor.”

“And?”

“Yours is the only apartment on that floor.”

“Oh . . . Thank you, very much.”

The door closed. Kelly inserted her key and the cage moved. In mere seconds it slid to a gentle stop and the door opened. She faced another door with the name plate “Jonathan Templeton.” She stood for a moment, her eyes riveted. Would she ever get used to what money could do?

The key turned silently in the lock and the door swung open to reveal a room right out of a decorating magazine. Nothing was out of place. The delicate green silk on the sofa was smoothed to perfection and the soft matching pillows were tilted at just the right angle. Louis XV chairs, tables on delicately carved legs, silk-shaded lamps all stood on a Persian carpet of muted greens, faded rose, and soft blue. The music coming from the intercom went so perfectly with the room that she scarcely noticed it.

Kelly closed the door and went to stand in the center of the room. It seemed a sacrilege to walk on the carpet. Jonathan must employ a live-in housekeeper. Everything was perfect. The plants, which were set in just the right places, would need constant care. She moved through a formal dining room toward swinging doors, then veered around the table toward an arched opening from which came the soft murmur of voices.

Her feet refused to carry her past the doorway. It was as if they were suddenly glued to the floor. Momentarily she could feel nothing and she stood as if the breath had been knocked out of her. Katherine and Nancy were seated at a small table, a coffee service between them.

“Oh!” Katherine looked up, startled. “Oh!” she said again and Nancy swung around to stare too. Katherine gained her composure first. “What do you want? What do you mean coming in here like that? You frightened me!” At first her voice was breathless, then accusing.

A wave of sickness rose into Kelly’s throat. She fought it down, knowing Jonathan had sent her here, alone, to face his hostile sister.