That Carolina Summer (North Carolina) (17 page)

The request made him pause. “My help?” Josh repeated, and his flare of interest gave her a fragment of hope.

“Yes,” she said, affirming her request, and nervously brought her hand down to her side. “You see, Annette just left to go out with Craig, one of the waiters here at the hotel,” she began.

His interest immediately waned. “She's welcome to go out with anyone she pleases. It has nothing to do with me,” he stated.

“Yes, it does,” Marsha insisted anxiously. “She's only going out with him to spite you and Dad."

“That's her business.” Again the door started to close on her.

“No, you don't understand!” she burst out in a rush. “She's going to a motel with him!"

Josh visibly stiffened. The sharpness of his gaze seemed to pierce her. “What did you say?” he demanded.

“She's going to a motel with him.” She repeated the sentence in a less assertive tone. “I tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn't listen to me. She's got this wild idea in her head ... that it's better to ... do it ... with someone she doesn't care about.” Marsha blushed furiously as she stammered over the words.

“She decided that, did she?” He seemed to snap out the words as the ridge of his jaw appeared to become lined with steel. “And was it part of her plan to send you over here to tell me about it?"

“No!” She breathed out the denial in a burst of alarm, realizing Josh had seen through all of Annette's plottings and maneuverings.

What if she couldn't convince him that this time the situation was genuine and not manufactured by her sister? It couldn't become a case of the boy crying wolf too many times!

“I swear Annette doesn't know I'm here,” she vowed, and automatically raised her hand as if taking a pledge. “Honestly, she doesn't."

“You sound very convincing.” But skepticism continued to narrow his gaze. “But you are Annette's sister, aren't you?” It was practically an accusation.

“I admit that sometimes ... Annette ... arranges for things to happen.” She struggled with the confession of her sister's guilt—and her own. “And ... sometimes she talks me into helping her out."

“Like with the sweater,” Josh guessed.

“Yes,” Marsha admitted. Agitation surfaced as she tried to convince him that this time it was different. “I'm trying to help her now, but not because she wants me to. It's because she's my sister and I don't want her to make a terrible mistake.” All the apprehension that was twisting her into knots threaded itself into her voice. “She doesn't even like Craig—and she's planning to go to bed with him!"

The corners of his mouth tightened in a kind of angry impatience. “You believe that she means to go through with this?” he demanded.

Marsha sighed brokenly and shook her head in vague confusion. “I don't see how she can. But with Annette—I sometimes think I wouldn't put anything past her.” She looked at him, her rounded blue eyes filled with anxiety. “After last night, when she broke up with you and had that awful quarrel with Dad, she's been ... different. I don't know how to explain it,” she finished lamely. “You're the only one who can stop her. Will you help?"

Josh didn't answer directly. “Do you know which motel they were going to?” His insistence on more information was its own indication.

“No.” Marsha shook her head as a quiver of relief went through her. “All she mentioned was Craig had a friend who was a night clerk somewhere on motel row."

“That's a start,” he muttered grimly, and turned away from the door, leaving it open.

Marsha hovered on the threshold, unsure if she was supposed to enter or if Josh was coming back. She watched him stride across the living room and stop to pick up the phone. Half turning, he looked to see where she was and motioned her into the suite.

Stepping inside, she closed the door. During the ensuing one-sided conversation, Marsha was able to gather that Josh was talking to one of Craig's co-workers and buddies to find out which motel on the strip employed their friend. Obviously he obtained the information. The minute he hung up he was moving toward the door.

“Are you coming?” He shot the question at Marsha and she nodded, too intimidated by the angered set of his features to speak. With a barely suppressed violence, Josh yanked the door open. “So help me,” he muttered under his breath, “if this is another one of her tricks, I'll wring her damned neck!"

ANNETTE HUGGED THE WALL while Craig unlocked the door to the motel room and pushed it open. Her skin felt chilled and she blamed the cold feeling on the motel's air conditioner and the sleeveless sundress she was wearing, Craig curved an arm around her waist to guide her into the room.

“Hey, this isn't bad.” He made the pleased declaration as he looked around. “It's even got a king-size bed."

She had already noticed the way the huge bed dominated the room. It seemed appropriate that it was covered with a scarlet spread. The other requisite furnishings in the room were diminished by its prominence.

The paper sack under Craig's arm rattled noisily as he released her to set it down on a long dresser. He hadn't mentioned what was in the sack, but she had already guessed it contained a bottle of liquor.

Switching on the color television set, he glanced at her. “We'll be able to watch it in bed."

His remark drew her attention to the fact that the screen faced the bed. Craig began changing stations to see what was on. It seemed ridiculous to her to pretend they had come here to watch television.

But she went along with him. “Yes, we can."

Satisfied with whatever was playing on one channel, he moved away from the television and took the bottle out of the sack. “Is whiskey okay?"

“Sure.” Annette wandered farther into the room and looked around, but the bed was all she really saw.

“I'll get some ice.” Craig picked up the Styrofoam bucket the motel provided to the rooms and paused. “There's a pop machine outside. What kind of mix do you want with your whiskey?"

“Whatever you're having will be fine.” She didn't care.

Before leaving the room, he stopped to kiss her. “Don't disappear while I'm gone,” he winked.

When the door closed behind him, Annette unconsciously rubbed her hand across her mouth to wipe away the moist trace left by his lips. She walked to the bed and set her purse on the nightstand. Half turning, she sat down and pressed her hands on the mattress as if testing its firmness. There was a numbness, a blankness that kept her from feeling or thinking anything.

A scant few minutes later the key turned in the lock, signaling Craig's return. She studied him as he walked in, abstractly noting again his exceedingly good looks, totally unaffected by them.

“One drink coming right up,” he said cheerfully.

Suddenly she didn't know why they were going through all these motions. Television and drinks; that wasn't why they were there. And she preferred to get the whole thing over with.

“Why don't you fix it later, Craig?” Annette stood up and reached behind her neck to unfasten the halter straps of her sundress. In the back of her mind there was the thought that she'd probably welcome the drink later.

She had no awareness of his startled glance as he set the ice bucket and can of pop beside the whiskey bottle. And she didn't notice the way his avid gaze licked over her when the straps fell loose. She was too busy unzipping the back of her dress.

Almost trancelike, Craig moved toward her, unbuttoning his shirt as he walked and tugging it off. Stepping out of her pink dress, she laid it on a chair back. Under the dress she had worn a strapless bra and a lacy half-slip. Her fingers were on the elastic band of her slip when the touch of Craig's hand on her shoulder made her pause.

She turned her head to look at him, her gray eyes blank of any expression, completely lacking the passion that burned in his. There was no resistance when he took her in his arms and began smothering her lips with kisses. His hands were all over her, touching and feeling.

A jarring feeling of revulsion welled inside her as Annette submitted to his lusting embrace. She had thought she could pretend he was Josh, but she suddenly realized she couldn't. He wasn't Josh. Annette turned away from his mouth, her hands pushing at him. She needed to think.

Craig misinterpreted her action, not seeing it as opposition to his lovemaking but as a desire to expand on it. He unfastened his pants and started to unzip them, his gaze riveted on the agitated rise and fall of her breasts within the supporting cups of the strapless brassiere.

“You're beautiful, Annette,” he declared hoarsely.

It was the wrong thing to say. Those were the very words Josh had used. No matter what she had thought previously, Annette knew she couldn't go through with this. She had been a fool to think she could.

“No.” She took a step backward, repulsed by the whole idea.

Craig stopped what he was doing and reached out to catch her hand. “Hey, where are you going?” he laughed, and pulled her back. Immediately Annette started to struggle and Craig fought to hold her, suddenly confused. “What's the matter with you?"

“Let me go!” she demanded angrily.

“What are you talking about?” He roughly attempted to overpower her resistance. “This was your idea, remember?"

Chapter Ten

SOMEONE RATTLED THE MOTEL-ROOM DOOR, freezing both of them. As Annette turned her head to look at it, the door burst open with explosive force. The color drained from her face as Josh charged in. His hard features were livid with anger when he saw her in Craig's arms. But she wasn't imprisoned in them for long, because Craig was shocked into letting her go. Josh advanced on them with long purposeful strides.

“How did you know I was here?” Her voice was a thin thread.

An instant later she had her answer when Marsha ventured hesitantly into the room. Her cheeks flamed with the realization her sister had informed Josh of her intentions tonight. Humiliation welled in her throat as Annette realized what Josh must be thinking about her now.

“What's he doing here?” Craig demanded an answer from Annette.

But she wasn't given a chance to explain that she hadn't expected Josh to come. Her wrist was seized to pull her out of Craig's reach. Inadvertently Annette looked into the anger of Josh's eyes.

“I'm taking you back to the hotel.” His incensed manner indicated that he wouldn't tolerate any arguments.

“Now wait just a damned minute!” Craig bristled in protest at the way Josh was assuming the right to control whether Annette stayed or left. “She came here with me and she'll leave with me."

“Like hell she will.” Josh let go of her wrist and turned on him with a snarl.

“I know what you're probably thinking,” Craig retorted. “But she came here of her own free will. I didn't twist her arm."

“She may have come here of her own free will, but she's leaving by my will,” he stressed with little patience. “And zip your pants up before they fall down!"

Craig turned red and quickly fastened them as Marsha hurried to Annette's side. “Are you all right?” she murmured.

“How could you tell him?” she choked on this awful betrayal by her sister.

A pair of soulful blue eyes looked back at her. “I'm sorry, but I didn't know what else to do,” Marsha whispered.

“Marsha, get her purse,” Josh ordered, and grabbed the sundress off the chair to shove it into Annette's hands. “Put this on."

He stood between her and Craig, a living wall intent on keeping them apart—as if it were necessary, Annette kept her head lowered to avoid eye contact with her angry rescuer as she slipped the dress on and tied the straps behind her neck. She didn't get any further than reaching for the zipper before his hands turned her around and pushed her fingers out of the way.

“If your father doesn't take the belt to you for this dumb stunt, I will,” Josh threatened as he roughly pulled the zipper to the top.

She spun around in shock, her gaze rushing to his. “You aren't going to tell him?” Annette breathed in panic.

“Don't bet on it, sweetheart,” he replied grimly.

“But you can't!” she protested.

It was bad enough that she had been so stupid to believe she could go through with it. That shame had been doubled with Josh's appearance on the scene. But if her father were told, too, she would die of mortification. How could Josh even threaten such a thing? His challenging stance revealed he could.

“I can and I will,” he stated in no uncertain terms.

“I thought you came charging in to rescue me from a fate worse than death,” Annette choked on the accusing words, humiliated into anger. “Instead you've only come to deliver me into my father's hands for punishment. You are despicable, Joshua Lord!"

“You aren't winning any prizes, either, but you're damn well going to get what you deserve,” he warned.

“You and whose army are going to take me there?” she said, challenging his ability to carry out the threat. She turned to her sister, gathering what pride hadn't been stripped from her. “Come on, Marsha. We're catching a cab and going back to the hotel."

The instant her attention was diverted, Josh moved in. He grabbed an arm before she could draw it out of his reach, and twisted it behind her back. The sudden application of force angered her still more. It wasn't fair when he was so much stronger.