Rooke shook her head vehemently. "No, he wouldn't sell my work." She paused. "But maybe..."

"Maybe what?" Adrian wished she could make this easier for Rooke. Learning one of her sculptures was about to be auctioned off had to feel like a violation.

"Pops might have given one to my grandmother." Rooke focused on Adrian. "Where is the sale you were talking about?"

"It's at Fox Run Mansion," Adrian had. "Is Bea Meriwether your grandmother?"

Rooke shook her head. "No. Ida Hanc.o.c.k is."

Adrian gasped. She'd just a.s.sumed that Rooke didn't have any other living relatives. Ida Hanc.o.c.k was her grandmother's best friend.

They were in Florida together right at that moment. Adrian had known Ida all her life. How was it possible she'd never heard Ida talk about Rooke? Why had she never met Rooke at any of the summer parties her grandmother hosted? Ida was always there. And how, if her grandmother knew Ida, could she ever have repeated such ridiculous rumors about Rooke? When she realized Rooke was staring at her, she said lamely, "I didn't know Ida Hanc.o.c.k had any grandchildren."

"She wouldn't have mentioned me," Rooke said with a shrug. "As far as she's concerned, we aren't related."

Melinda laughed softly, running her fingers over the top of Rooke's hand. "Ah, the luscious intrigue of small towns. How foolish of anyone not to claim you."

Rooke handed the paper back to Melinda and eased her hand a 132 a out from under Melinda's fingers. She didn't want to talk about her grandmother. She didn't want to talk about her sculptures, either.

"What are you going to do with it? When you buy it?"

"I'm going to display it in my gallery. And I'd like to represent your other works as well." Melinda finished her wine and set the gla.s.s aside. When she breathed in the scent of desire emanating from the other two women, she almost laughed, wondering how they couldn't know. "When can I see the rest of your work?"

"Why?" Rooke asked.

Melinda did laugh then. "Most artists would be begging me to review their portfolio at this point."

Rooke frowned. "I don't have a portfolio. I guess I'm not really cut out for this kind of thing."

"Oh, my dear," Melinda murmured, lightly caressing the edge of Rooke's jaw. "You have no idea how perfect you are. Exactly what I was looking for."

Adrian edged forward, forcing Melinda's attention away from Rooke. "You'll be offering a contract, spelling out the terms of representation?"

"Of course, darling. You needn't worry. I have no intention of mistreating her." She smiled at Rooke. "In fact, I promise to treat you very, very well."

"I have to think about it. I don't know if I want to sell my sculptures."

"I understand." Melinda took a card from her purse and handed it to Rooke. "You can look up the gallery on the Internet. Study some of the pieces we have on display. I think you'll like what you see. If you don't want to put your pieces up for public sale, I have private collectors who I know would be interested. I can a.s.sure you, it would be quite lucrative for you."

Rooke glanced at the card, then tucked it into her shirt pocket. "I don't know if I want anyone to have them."

"Then why did you create them?"

"Because..." Rooke didn't know how to explain, but Adrian's gaze said she understood, so she tried. "Because that's what I do."

"Is it pleasurable?" Melinda asked.

Rooke flushed, remembering the stone heating under her hands, a 133 a the fluid arch of a neck, the fullness of b.r.e.a.s.t.s flowing through her mind, stirring her flesh. Excitement burgeoned, making her groin tighten and throb. She met Melinda's eyes and saw her arousal reflected in the flickering green-gold.

"More," Melinda murmured, her voice thick as honey. "I can promise you the pleasure will be greater than you dreamed if you let me share your gift."

The longer Rooke looked into Melinda's eyes, the more uncomfortable she became. She sensed danger everywhere, but she couldn't find a focal point for it. Darkness encroached on the edges of her vision, and she wanted to grab Adrian's hand and leave this place. She wanted to be back in Adrian's kitchen, in the soft glow of the lamplight, listening to Adrian talk about places she'd been and the things she wanted to write about. A fist squeezed tightly in the center of her chest and she almost groaned.

"I need to go now," Rooke said so abruptly Melinda gave a small cry of disappointment. She lurched to her feet, casting wildly about for Adrian, unable to find her.

Adrian rose quickly and rested her palm against Rooke's cheek.

"Hey. It's okay." She brushed her fingers through the thick lock of hair that fell across Rooke's forehead. Sweat misted along Rooke's hairline.

"We'll go."

"I'm sorry." Rooke closed her eyes and tilted her head into Adrian's palm as the tension eased and she could breathe freely again.

"We're done here," Adrian said to Melinda, who watched them with an avid expression. She gripped Rooke's shoulder. "Come on.

Let's go."

"Good-bye for now," Melinda whispered. "Thank you for bringing her to me."

"I didn't do it for you." Adrian heard Melinda laughing softly as they left.

Didn't you?

a 134 a

ChapTER fifTEEn.

I think you'd better drive until we get out of town," Rooke said, handing Adrian her keys.

"Sure," Adrian said uncertainly. "Why?"

Rooke didn't reply, just pulled open the pa.s.senger door and climbed in. Adrian slid behind the wheel and started the engine. When she checked in the side-view mirror before pulling out onto the nearly empty Main Street, she noticed a sheriff's patrol car parked on the opposite side, half a block down. She drove carefully along the snow-covered street and turned off Main onto River Road. After they'd gone a mile and there was no one behind them, she pulled over and looked at Rooke, who sat facing forward, her hands in the pockets of her jacket, her face still as granite.

"Are you all right?"

"Fine." After a beat, Rooke said, "I can drive now."

"We're not that far from my house. Come over and have some lunch."

"I do still need to check the tarp to make sure it hasn't come loose."

"That works out, then." Adrian flicked the keys hanging from the ignition. Rooke was upset, but Adrian couldn't tell if it was due to learning that her sculptures were no longer her secret or if Melinda's obvious attentions bothered her. Or, something Adrian didn't want to contemplate, maybe Rooke was brooding because Melinda's attentions were welcome and Rooke wanted more, something Melinda seemed confident of delivering. And maybe, she growled inwardly, I can sit here and wonder for the rest of the afternoon and never know the answer.

a 135 a She'd always gone after what she wanted and what she wanted to know.

Indecision was foreign to her and she rebelled against it now. "Why am I driving?"

"Because I don't have a license."

"Ah. And I guess the local authorities know that," Adrian said, recalling the sheriff's car.

"Everyone knows."

The way she said it made Adrian's heart hurt. No wonder Rooke had kept her work a secret in a town where she had no secrets. "You've been driving out to my place."

"The sheriff has better things to do in the middle of a blizzard than haul me in because I'm driving without a license."

"Haul you in?"

Rooke's eyes were dark deep pools of anger and frustration. "I graduated from just getting ticketed a few years ago. The last time they stopped me, I spent half the night in jail."

"They can't do that!"

"They did. For some reason it took them a while to call my grandfather."

Adrian reached across the s.p.a.ce between them and took Rooke's hand. "That's not right. For G.o.d's sake, you grew up here. You don't need to read the street signs to know where you are or to recognize a stop sign. Aren't there any lawyers in this town?"

"It's not just because I can't read," Rooke said in a low, strained voice.

"What then?"

"I don't have a license because I can't pa.s.s the written test, but even if I could, I would have a problem getting a license. I have..."

Rooke blew out a breath. "I have seizures."

Adrian twined her fingers through Rooke's, squeezing gently.

"From the accident?"

Rooke nodded.

"How bad is it?" Adrian couldn't bear the thought of Rooke being hurt, and the idea of her having a seizure at any time, but particularly while driving, terrified her.

"Not bad. I haven't had one in a long time." Rooke bowed her head and cradled Adrian's hands between both of hers, brushing her thumb back and forth over Adrian's knuckles.

a 136 a "You take medication?" Adrian asked faintly, riveted by the sweep of Rooke's thumb back and forth over her skin.

"Yes."

Adrian barely heard her as the rhythmic caress sent teasing currents of pleasure into her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and lower. The longer it went on, the more her c.l.i.toris swelled and pulsed. Tendrils of excitement twined through her pelvis and along her spine. She'd never been so sensitive before, even in the midst of making love. The arousal was so intense she wanted it to go on forever, and needed it to stop immediately before she moaned aloud and humiliated herself. When her thighs tensed and her pelvis clenched, she was on the verge of screaming from the pressure to climax. Carefully, not wanting Rooke to know just how close to the edge she was, she eased her hand free of Rooke's hot grasp and clutched the steering wheel. Beside her, Rooke was breathing hard, looking almost dazed.

"I'd better drive us home," Adrian said, her throat tight.

Rooke didn't answer, and out of the corner of her eye, Adrian saw her hand ball into a fist on her thigh. It wasn't until she put the truck in gear and started cautiously down the rutted, snow-covered road that she realized while Rooke had been touching her, all she'd felt was Rooke.

Here and now and overwhelmingly potent. She hadn't sought to shield against her, wasn't certain she could have if she tried. She seemed to have no ability to keep Rooke at a distance. She never allowed herself to be so vulnerable. How had she let this happen?

v "You want this, don't you?" Melinda murmured, leading the fresh-faced porter into a dim alcove on the third floor of the hotel.

Absorbing the intoxicating desire radiating from Rooke and Adrian had inflamed her, and the urge to feed the raging hunger had come over her so intensely, so violently, she had to satisfy it now. She couldn't wait for Becky to come on duty tonight, and she couldn't satisfy the need herself. No amount of masturbation would dull this craving. She craved another's pa.s.sion. The young woman pushing a room service cart had stared at her appreciatively as she'd exited the elevator, and when Melinda slowed and smiled back, the young woman had been eager to talk. It hadn't taken long to convince her to take a detour before a 137 a returning downstairs to the kitchen. An encounter with such an innocent would likely do little more than blunt her appet.i.te, but she would have to be content with that for now.

"Tell me," Melinda said, pulling open the b.u.t.tons on her jacket with trembling fingers. "Tell me this is what you want."

"Oh yes," the young woman gasped, dipping her hands inside the black lace cups. "I want it."

Melinda leaned back against the dark wood paneling and closed her eyes while her nameless lover groped and sucked her b.r.e.a.s.t.s in a frenzy. In her mind, the mouth at her breast was Rooke's and the hot, pulsing s.e.x she fondled Adrian's. The three undulated together, limbs entwined, mouths ravenous as they kissed and caressed and tormented one another. The cavernous need inside her stretched to infinity, an endless black void demanding to be filled. Her hips writhed beneath the relentless pressure and she tangled her fingers in Rooke's thick hair, forcing her breast harder into Rooke's mouth. She stroked Adrian faster, swirling her fingers over velvety skin while arousal ripped at her sanity.

"I'm getting really close," a desperate voice cried. "Oh, unnh, my c.l.i.t, it's-"

Melinda forced her lover to her knees, lost in the swirling depths of Rooke's dark eyes. "Drink me."

A hot mouth instantly devoured her and her s.e.x pumped wildly.

The young woman whimpered, climaxing as she sucked Melinda voraciously. Melinda exalted as pleasure at last suffused her. Before her o.r.g.a.s.m finished, her c.l.i.toris stiffened again, and she rode the tongue that incited her toward another climax.

"More," she demanded, her world a conflagration. More. Again.

Again. More.

She came and came again, and again, until the red haze and the raging ache receded. She pulled away, and her lover slumped back against the wall, drained-body and soul. After straightening her clothes, Melinda bent and fastened the young woman's black trousers.

"Rest for a few minutes and then go back to work." She smiled into the dazed blue eyes and caressed the flushed face. "You were an unexpected delight."

Then she walked away. Once back in her room, she called the estate auctioneer to emphasize her definite desire to acquire the statue.

a 138 a When she intimated to him what she intended to bid, she was a.s.sured she would have no compet.i.tion. She would have it, of course, but now she wanted something else even more. She wanted the fathomless pa.s.sion of the sculptor.

v By the time Adrian pulled into the driveway of her grandmother's house, she'd gotten herself under control. Her physical reaction to Rooke was more than embarra.s.sing, it was inexplicable. She'd had almost-anonymous s.e.x on a few occasions when she'd known little more than a woman's name and occupation before sharing a few desperate hours in a frantic attempt to obliterate images of death and inhumanity. Those encounters proved she was capable of a purely physical response to an attractive woman, but Rooke was much more than just a stranger in a strange land. She was a tender, sensitive, remarkable woman and Adrian had no intention of falling into bed with her, even if Rooke was interested. She didn't want her hormones or pheromones or whatever was driving her libido these days to make her do something she'd regret.

Rooke had said there was a woman in her life, and whatever their relationship was, Adrian didn't intend to get in the middle of it. Besides, she had a life that was already too complicated, and Rooke's quiet, secluded existence was about to undergo major changes if Melinda had anything to do with it. No, now was not the time for anything more than friendship. She needed to take about ten steps back and a long cold shower, and maybe her good sense would return.

"Do you need me to hold the ladder while you go up on the roof?"

Adrian asked as she parked.

"I should be okay." Rooke opened her door, but didn't get out.

"You know, I can just check the tarp and leave. If you're busy."

Adrian knew she should take advantage of the opportunity and agree. A little distance would help her regain her perspective. But what would Rooke think if Adrian let her disappear, which was what she sensed Rooke wanted to do? Would she see Adrian as just like all the other people who weren't really interested in knowing any more about her than what they a.s.sumed? Would Rooke believe she was like Ida Hanc.o.c.k, the grandmother who wouldn't even acknowledge her? Just a 139 a thinking about the rejection and disdain Rooke must have endured her whole life enraged her. She wouldn't be another person who turned away from Rooke's truth.