Turn Back the Dawn (11 page)

CHAPTER SIX

Kate's worries drifted away as she drifted off into sleep. And with sleep came a peace she desperately needed. In
her
dreams she made love with Ben, and he told her he
loved
her as he had never loved before. But then the dream turned into a nightmare: Kate opened her mouth to tell Ben she loved him, but when she tried, no words came. Only silence.

She awakened, shaken by the dream, by having been unable to express herself. Yet, as she looked at Ben—
slowly
awakening, eyes opening and lighting up as they
looked
into hers—she knew that, as in the dream, she
could
say nothing; words would be too dangerous, too
much
a courting of rejection or silence. And she was
certain,
also, that she saw love in Ben's eyes, felt it in every
loving
touch, every whispered word of lovemaking. And
for now
that would have to be enough.

He
sighed against her cheek and smiled. "Sorry," he
whispered.

"For
what?"

H
e
raised a sleepy brow and smiled. "Isn't falling asleep after
lovemaking considered a big faux pas these days in
women's
magazines?"

She laughed. "Women's magazines? Do I look like a magazine? Quit trying to be perfect. Anyway, they're talking about something different when they write about that —the guy who rolls off you like a log, grunts, turns over, and starts snoring half a second later. You hardly fit into that category."

He smiled. "I'm glad of that. Did you sleep?"

She nodded against his shoulder.

"Nice dreams?" he asked. "Mm," she lied, wishing he hadn't asked. "Can you stay the night?" he murmured, a hand silkily roving over her hips, along a thigh. Kate's body responded quickly to his touch, knowing the pitch of fevered arousal it could bring her to.

She was instantly awash with desire, possessed by a throbbing inner need that was his and his alone to satisfy.

"Hm?" he asked, his warm hand asking its own question as it moved to the satin of her inner thighs.

"I don't know," she whispered breathlessly, teasingly, as she reached out for him.

His hand caught her wrist and he looked into her eyes with a penetrating gaze of challenge. "Hm? What are you up to, then?"

With his other hand he grasped the softness between her thighs, making her whisper his name. "You'll stay, then," he rasped. "Yes. Oh, yes."

He released her hand and she reached out for him, her fingers trailing in hungry exploration from his rippling chest down to his slim hips. They worked downward, needing to stroke those parts of him she loved to look at—his long, muscular thighs, the lean edges of his hips.

And
then she reached for him, wanting to bring him the
same
melting pleasure he was bringing her.

"My God, woman," he whispered, trembling under her
loving
touch, "what you do to me."

"I
want you," she said, her words muffled, fired by the
strength
of his response to her touch.

"Come
to me again," he urged. "I need you."

And as he moved on top of her and merged her burning
want
with his in a powerful thrust of love, she cried out
his
name with passion.

He felt like blazing pleasure inside her, stroking rapture
that
transported her with him to spiraling heights. They
climbed
together, grasping, urging, whispering, coaxing,
fusing,
a trembling mixture of exquisite delight and urgen
cy,
bliss and arousal. And they flamed in a shimmering
coursing
ecstasy that lost them both, for a time, to every
thing
but feeling, and then afterward, gently rolling, slow
ing,
winding down, to the deepest of love and wonder at
each
other.

"Kate," he whispered, nuzzling his lips against her ear.
"You're
so beautiful. So wonderful. I
—
I love you."

Her
heart soared. "I love you, too, Ben," she said,
holding
him tight. "I love you, too."

Kate
stayed the night, sleeping half the time and mak
ing love
the other half, and her fears flew out of her heart as
she
grew to trust Ben more and more deeply, to give of her
self
more freely each time they embraced.

She
rose in the pale-gray light of dawn, getting dressed
n Hen slept.
She loved the way the light coming across the Eas
t River
had awakened her; it was so different from her
own dark
apartment. And the view from Ben's window
—
indeed,
from the bed
—
was among the most tranquil she

had ever seen. The city, the river, and Long Island City beyond were asleep, still and dark against the long rays of the rising sun.

"You're not leaving," came his voice from behind her.

She turned and smiled. "I have to. I have an early meeting today."

He sighed. "But I'll see you at two for our meeting at the agency."

She nodded. "And I have to talk to you about something that happened."

He sat up against the bed frame. "What? Tell me now, if it's important."

She hesitated. The night—and the early morning—had been so wonderful; she didn't want to cloud its rosiness by bringing up business—especially something unpleasant like Dick Dayton.

"What is it?" he pressed.

She sighed and went over to the bed and sat at its edge. "Oh, Ben, it's nothing that major. But I hate discussing something like business with you after—after last night."

He smiled. "We're going to have to sometime," he said, taking her hand. "And it doesn't undo anything, you know."

She smiled. "I guess you're right." And she told him about her conversation with Dayton and his very strong suggestion that they use his niece for the campaign.

Ben shook his head when she was finished. "That man is a fool."' he said quietly.

"He's a fool," Kate said, "but more than that, Ben, he can't be trusted. As far as I'm concerned, that conversation sealed Alexandra's fate. I can't possibly hire her."

Ben drew his head back. "What?"

"I'm sorry, Ben. But if Dayton is interfering this much
now,
imagine what he'll do later. He'll probably dictate
the
clothes
she's going to'wear, for God's sake."

Ben was expressionless, his voice flat as he said, "So
you're
going to let a great model go because of an uncle
you
don't think you can handle."

Kate's lips tightened. "Maybe I can handle him, Ben. And maybe I can't. The point is that I think it's courting disaster to walk into a situation like that knowing what the possibilities are. There are other models. Other actresses."

"Dammit, Kate, listen to me. Don't make this mistake.
I
promise you—when you've been in the business as long
as
I have, you'll know: you can't expect to find another Alexandra Dayton. Not easily. Don't mess this one up,
Kate.
Just believe me. This is the type of situation you'll
have
to learn to deal with, that's all."

She
looked at him, at the amber eyes she couldn't read,
the
hard set of his mouth. What she had feared was al
ready
beginning to happen: the warmth, the love that had
touched
them both suddenly seemed a memory. "I don't
want
to talk about it anymore," she said, turning away.

"Why
not?" he demanded. "Kate, I want to see you do
I he
best damned job anyone's ever done on a campaign at
Ivorsen
and Shaw. And that means you've got to let me
help
you. And you've got to take some risks you might be
afraid
to take."

"Why
do you assume I'm afraid, Ben? Why don't you
see
it
as reasonable caution?" She sighed. "Anyway, I
just
—
I'm not sure how to say this." His eyes gave her no
encouragement,
but she went on. "I
—
it makes me uncom
fortable
to hear you talk in such a controlling way about
me. In
any other area, maybe I wouldn't mind. But with my work—with
our
work—it makes me feel as if you're trying to mold me into something—to make me into something I'm not."

"I'm trying to make you as good as you can be."

"Then let me make my own mistakes," she said. "And learn that way."

He shook his head with a certainty that surprised her. "I can't do that," he said. "You have to trust me, Kate. That's all I can say."

They batted the issue of Alexandra Dayton around for the next half hour—with Kate resisting, Ben pushing calmly but logically. And Kate finally agreed: it did make more sense to hire Alexandra Dayton and prepare to deal with difficulties with her uncle than to lose her altogether. And Kate did feel—whatever Ben thought—that she was strong enough to handle Dick Dayton.

Later in the day, when Kate saw Ben at his office for the second round of auditions, she didn't feel any of the controlling dominance she had minded earlier. The audition went well, too—exceptionally well, according to Ben and Andrew Coates—and afterward, in a meeting, they all agreed that Alexandra Dayton would be the new I and S woman, and a young man who had just auditioned, Pierce Allen, would be the new I and S man. Pierce was a perfect. complement to Alexandra, with thick, dark hair, pale blue eyes, fine, small features, and a tall, lean frame. He was twenty-five to her twenty-one, and though he was, in a sense, more classically good-looking than she, he was her perfect partner; together, they were sure to catch everyone's attention. And the two had a wonderful rapport together, both in the audition and afterward on videotape. Kate was thrilled.

Over the next few days Ben's team of copywriters worked around the clock honing and polishing the copy
for
the upcoming print ads and the scripts for the upcom
ing
TV and radio ads. Kate met daily with Ben, Alexan
dra,
and Pierce at the Blake-Canfield offices, and she spent
every
afternoon with Alexandra and Pierce as well, plan
ning
their wardrobes, accessories, and sets with Blake- Canfield's stylist.

During this time Kate tried to keep her mind on her
work
and off her relationship with Ben. He was just as
affectionate
as before, and certainly demonstrative, even in
the
office: giving her quick kisses when they were alone,
looking
at her with eyes clearly full of desire and need.
Yet,
at the end of each morning session, as Kate was
getting
ready to return to Ivorsen and Shaw, Ben never
made
any specific overture. He would say only that he
would
see her the next day and set the time for the ap
pointment.

At
first Kate took his words at face value; he was, after
all,
definitely still romantic, still assuming they would be
together
soon. But then she began to wonder; perhaps he
was
trying to ease out of the relationship, letting it slip
away
as if it had never existed.

And
she was suddenly frightened, with a swiftness that
came
from having lived through this so many times before. H
e had
said he loved her; she had said she loved him. He
had told
her of his desire for a serious relationship. And
o
f
the way
he eased out of relationships with no potential.
And
perhaps, she thought, he was easing out of this one.

Finally,
on the day the shooting of the first print ads was sc
heduled
to begin, Kate knew she would have to speak
with Ben
about her concerns. She simply couldn't go on any longer, not knowing, not saying anything. Breaking up with Kurt had been her first step on a path of what she had hoped would be a new course of maturity: not standing for nonsense, not falling for lines, not lying down for any kind of emotional game-playing. And if she was going to stick to her resolves, it was definitely time to act. But she found, when Ben arrived at I and S that evening for the shooting, that there was no time to talk. Naturally, the place was in chaos, with the furniture department, where the shooting was to take place, resembling a movie set more than a store.

When Ben had first arrived, he had spoken briefly to Kate about the shooting, but he was now off talking with his stylist and art director. And Kate, in any case, had other problems to worry about for the moment: Alexandra Dayton had been shaky and nervous all afternoon; Dick Dayton, who had been remarkably quiet since Alexandra had been hired, was now eating antacids by the handful and almost constantly haranguing Kate; and Kurt, on the scene in his capacity as I and S acting art director, was bothering Kate by his presence alone.

As the time for the shooting drew near, Kate went over to help the stylist get Alexandra and Pierce ready for the first ad. Set in a large room, empty except for a giant brass bed and a one-of-a-kind antique brass lamp, the ad was designed to show stark but utter luxury. Alexandra would be dressed in a peach-satin teddy and Pierce in black silk pajama-bottoms. Each would be half-covered by an an tique patchwork quilt that would be draped on the bed in various strategic positions.

Panic broke loose when Kate discovered that the peach teddy hardly showed in the test Polaroids, making Alex