Something Different/Pepper's Way (28 page)

Habit born of spending a great deal of time in an RV with a small water tank made her shower brief. She dried off quickly then donned the floor-length velour robe, zipping the front up to the base of her throat. It was sapphire in color and had heavy batwing sleeves. It was not, she thought judiciously, a seductive garment, and that seemed perfect at the moment. Looking from the inside out, Pepper never realized that the enveloping garment lent her a tiny, rather fragile appearance; an appearance that some men would find far more sexy than bare limbs and cleavage.

She took down her hair and brushed the silvery strands; then, after a moment’s hesitation, put it back up and studied the effect in the slightly fogged mirror over the vanity. Odd.

Thor had called the hairstyle sexy. Dispassionate scrutiny convinced Pepper that she looked like a dolled-up Pekingese.

Shaking her head in bemusement, she left the bathroom. Five minutes and an upended duffel bag located her slippers, and then she headed downstairs. She heard Thor whistling in his bedroom as she went down the hall. Well, at least he sounded cheerful, she noted with amusement.

Pepper went into the den and knelt in the deep-pile carpet before the blazing fire. Watching the flames leaping, she followed her own advice about avoiding soul-searching. Instead, she looked as objectively as possible, at the behavior of her and Thor since her “challenge.”

“We pretend it’s a game,” she realized slowly, speaking aloud in the quiet room. “We pretend… and we drag in metaphors and puns, and toss the challenge back and forth….” And then, she also realized, something real pulled at them. And they faced each other in an unguarded, off-center moment filled with an intensity both wanted to back away from. In those moments lurked the danger.

No wonder laughter inevitably followed those moments, she thought ruefully. That intensity scared the hell out of both of them, and laughter was a natural channel for fear.

Pepper was under no illusions as to the traditional belief that men walked boldly into danger. Most walked boldly, certainly, but few went unafraid. There wasn’t
that
much difference between the sexes. Unfortunately and unfairly, men were trained by environment, heredity, and too many generations of being “strong and silent” to present a fearless face to the world.

She shook her head at the follies of trapping people into roles, then bit back an ironic laugh as she remembered that both she and Thor were playing roles they’d shaped for themselves. Games. And she wondered which fact they would face
first: that they were playing a game—or that it wasn’t a game at all.

A sudden sound brought her head up sharply, and Pepper frowned as she listened intently. It had sounded like a muffled howl, she thought. What on earth … ?

With only that warning and an instinctive knowledge of what might have happened, Pepper barely had time to prepare herself for a hundred-pound Doberman, soaking wet and quivering with anxiety, bounding into her lap.

“Oh, Fifi,” she murmured unsteadily. “You didn’t.”

“She sure as hell did!” Thor announced irately from the doorway.

five

HOLDING FIFI WITH BOTH ARMS AND ABSENTLY
aware of the water soaking the front of her robe, Pepper stared at the doorway. Thor stood there, dripping, with only a towel knotted at his lean waist.

And the towel was slipping.

Being a graduate of a California university and having been a traveler for years, Pepper had viewed men in various stages of undress. She’d seen men on beaches wearing little more than moral support, and a curious visit to one rather infamous night spot in Europe had boasted a star attraction who’d scorned even that minimal covering. If she’d felt anything on such occasions, it had been a mild analytical interest. In her opinion most men—like most women—looked better with a judicious draping of material here and there.

But Thor’s towel seemed to her a sinful crime against nature.

Impressive with his clothes on, he was far more so without them. Powerfully muscled without being overly so, he was deeply tanned, and there wasn’t a spare ounce of fat on his large frame. The thick mat of hair on his broad chest was gold, arrowing down his flat stomach to disappear beneath the
towel. And the hands-on-hips glaring stance prompted an image of a virile god of thunder.

Pepper’s mouth was suddenly dry, and her ability to breathe easily seemed impaired. With a wrenching effort she tore her eyes away to look down at the trembling dog in her lap. She was very grateful that Thor was too angry to pick up the tremulous desire within her.

“Why didn’t you warn me?” he was demanding.

“Sorry.” She was also grateful for the amusement warring with awareness inside of her. “Uh… Fifi likes communal showers. I forgot.”

“I’ll bet.” Thor hitched absently at the towel.

Pepper looked hastily away again. “I swear. Look, you go finish your shower in peace while I dry her off. You’re—uh— dripping all over the carpet.” She cursed the last sentence silently as he looked down and seemed to become aware of how he was dressed. Or not dressed. And when he gazed at her again—she couldn’t seem to stop staring at him—she could see the sudden awareness in his eyes.

“Pepper…”

Damn, she thought. Oh, damn, how are we ever going to get to know each other with this … this combustion between us? Heaving Fifi off her lap with a strength born of desperation, she got up quickly and grasped the dog’s collar. “I’ll just go and—” She broke off abruptly and made tracks for the makeshift grooming parlor and the towels used for her canine clients.

Thor stared after her for a moment, then cursed softly and headed for the bathroom upstairs to finish his interrupted shower.

By the time Pepper got Fifi dry and calm again, a glance at her robe told her that she had suffered quite a bit in the dog’s wet retreat. The sapphire velour was clinging to the curves beneath
it, the material too wet for a hasty drying. She swore under her breath, ordered her pet to stay in the den, and went back upstairs to her bedroom.

It wasn’t so
much finding
another robe as choosing between those she had, and the choice took a few moments. Out-and-out seduction had never been a part of her plans, and the last thing she wanted tonight was to spark the highly combustible feelings between her and Thor. But since she liked the gliding feel of silk next to her flesh even in winter, her nighttime wardrobe was somewhat limited in the area of concealment.

She finally chose a violet silk nightgown a bit less transparent than the others available. It was floor-length with spaghetti straps and a moderate \/-neckline, the material slightly gathered beneath her breasts. Over it she donned a matching negligee with a tie closing and long sleeves with wide cuffs at the wrists.

Pepper returned to the study ahead of Thor, and was frowning down at Fifi when he entered the room.

“I’ll get the chessboard and set it up on the coffee table in front of the fire—” he began as he came in, but he broke off abruptly. His eyes glided over her new outfit as he automatically finished turning back the cuffs of his blue-and-black plaid flannel shirt.

“Instead of that,” she said casually, moving away from the fire’s golden light and making a mental note not to stand there again in a silk nightgown, dammit, “if you have a deck of playing cards somewhere around, why don’t we try a few hands of poker? It’s a little late to start a chess game.”

“Poker,” he murmured abstractedly. He shook his head, obviously to rid himself of another thought, since his next words were agreement. “Okay. There’s a new deck and some chips in the study. While we’re at it, we might as well finish off
that wine. Why don’t you get the wine and glasses while I get the cards?” Before she could respond, he was out of the room.

Pepper silently went to fetch the wine. She didn’t suspect Thor of trying to deprive her of inhibitions, since she’d told him at dinner that her head was as hard as her cast-iron stomach and that the only effect wine had on her was to sharpen her wits. And since she liked wine, she had no argument with his suggestion.

A few moments later both were seated on the floor on either side of the coffee table, Thor leaning back against a chair and Pepper against the couch. Their wineglasses were at their elbows, and Thor was opening a new deck of cards.

Pepper glanced down at Fifi, where the still-nervous dog lay beside her, and couldn’t help but laugh. “You’ve lost ground; the poor girl was frightened half to death by that bellow of yours.”

Thor followed her gaze and grinned ruefully. “Her sudden entrance into my shower didn’t do me much good, either. She just barged right in. I thought you said she was a lady!”

“Only where her sleeping habits are concerned.”

Shooting a quick look across the table, Thor half opened his mouth to comment, then apparently thought better of it.

Dryly Pepper said, “No need to be discreet; that’s one unasked question I’ll answer.”

“What did I hesitate to ask?”

“If Fifi’s owner shared the—uh—same trait?” Pepper asked with a grin.

“Sharp, aren’t you?”

“I try. To answer: yes.”

“A lady… but only where sleeping habits are concerned?”

“If you accept the traditional definition of ladylike behavior.”

“Now you’ve got me curious.”

“Good.”

“No elaboration?”

“Oh, I don’t think so. I think I’ll just cut bait. You should be nicely hooked by now.”

Thor started to laugh. “Dammit, Pepper!”

“Honesty’s a wonderful thing, isn’t it? What stakes shall we play for?”

“Sky’s the limit. Shall I bet my house?”

“Better not.”

“Are you challenging me again?”

“In spades … if you’ll forgive another bad pun.”

“I won’t forgive that one. Cut for the deal?”

“Right.”

“Ten of clubs.”

“Queen of hearts. I deal.” Pepper began to shuffle the deck. “I hope you can afford to drop a bundle,” she told him demurely. Briskly, skillfully, slender fingers flying, she dealt the hand.

Thor leaned his elbows on the low table and stared across at her. “I think I should have held out for chess.”

Pepper picked up her cards. “Bet.”

He sighed and pushed a couple of chips to the center of the table. “Sky’s the limit, I said. Why do I get the feeling I’ll regret it?”

Nearly two hours and quite a few hands later, Thor laid down a straight and stared at Pepper. “Well, go ahead—I know you’ll beat it.”

She laid down a full house, aces over queens, and grinned as she raked in the pile of chips to add to her considerable winnings.

“Damn, you’re good.”

Pepper smiled and slid two fingers beneath the tight cuff of her negligee, removing an ace of hearts from its hiding place. With a professional snap, the card landed in front of Thor.

“I also cheat,” she told him placidly. “Not ladylike at all.”

“Damn,” he repeated blankly, staring down at the card and then at her. “When did you swipe it?”

“While I was dealing.”

“I watched your hands,” he protested.

“Mmm. I learned from the best.”

“Don’t tell me. Monte Carlo?”

“Actually no. They knew him in Monte Carlo; he couldn’t play there.”

Thor groaned. “You’re a cardsharp!”

“Has a nice, dishonest ring to it, doesn’t it?”

“Your checkered past.”

“You’re fishing now.”

“With every line I can find. Look, d’you mind furnishing just one small piece of the puzzle gratis? I’m stumbling around in the dark here.”

Pepper felt a tiny mental shock as his imagery matched her own. Stumbling in the dark? Aware now of what happened in these off-center, unguarded moments, she could literally see the clear-cut limits of their roles becoming hazy. She picked up her glass, sipping the cool wine and wondering despairingly why she had to constantly wave puzzle pieces at him in challenge.

“Off the top of my head, or d’you want to ask a question?” she heard herself ask abruptly.

“Question.”

“Time out for a question from the peanut gallery,” she mocked lightly.

“Cute.”

“Well. Fair trade then. If I answer your question, you have to answer mine.”

“All right,” he said slowly.

“So ask.”

“An honest answer?”

“If I can.”

“Pepper—”

“All right! An honest answer.”

Thor reached a hand across to cover the restless fingers worrying her wineglass. His thumb swept lightly across a long, thin scar across the back of her hand. “How did that happen?”

Surprised, Pepper looked down at the scar for a moment and then back at him. “Oh. That.”

“Uh-huh.”

She frowned at him. “I could say I fell down on something when I was three.”

“You could. It might even be true. Is it?”

Pepper sighed. She didn’t want to appear mysterious, but unless she supplied several of the puzzle pieces, that was probably the way her answer would sound. Still… he’d asked. And she’d promised to answer.

“I was cut.”

“How?”

“That’s two questions,” she said evasively.

“No, it isn’t. I asked
how
that happened; you just told me
what
happened.”