He lifted his head and leaned across Alanna to replace the telephone receiver on its cradle. When he moved back, his arms were on either side of her head, propping him above her. He lazily studied her flushed cheeks and the feverish violet of her eyes.
"Now where were we?" he murmured.
Much later, Alanna lay in the crook of his arm, her head resting against the solidness of his chest, rising and falling at last in even breathing. The dreamy afterglow of satisfaction softly curved her mouth. If she didn't move for a thousand years, it would still be too soon.
But the emptiness of her stomach was reminding her that she hadn't eaten since noon yesterday and she doubted that Rolt had either. Reluctantly she moved away from the warmth of his body, and slipped out of bed. Aware of the sunlight shining brightly on her naked curves and Rolt's eyes watching her, she walked self-consciously to the masculine robe lying over the back of a chair and put it on, tying a knot in the sash at the waist.
"Where are you going?" Rolt asked in a lazy, caressing voice.
"To fix breakfast." Alanna turned, brushing the hair away from one side of her face with a nervous hand.
He was propped on his side, an elbow beneath him, the bedcovers down around his waist. His bare chest and shoulders gleamed bronze in the sunlight, contrasted by the white of the sheets and pillows. The dark light in his disturbing gaze made her blood run swiftly.
"Come here."
Alanna walked to within a few inches of the bed and stood. His hand caught at the ends of the sash and drew her forward until her knee was bent on the mattress. Her senses threatened to whirl her into abandonment again.
"You didn't have dinner last night. You must be hungry," she murmured in semi-protest.
"My appetite doesn't seem to be for food." He released one of the ends of the sash and pulled at the other to loosen the knot, watching the front of the robe open. "I think I'll burn all your clothes and make you wear only this," he said idly, then glanced at her reddened face, "except that I'd probably never leave the house."
His gaze held hers for heart-stopping seconds. The hungry rumbling of her stomach snapped the invisible thread that bound them. Rolt smiled suddenly.
"You'd better fix that breakfast. I don't want you fainting on me."
Alanna was at the bottom of the stairs before her legs finally stopped trembling. When Rolt came down, he had showered and shaved, and was dressed in a business suit. The smile he gave her when she set their plates on the table contracted her heart. The difference was so great when his mouth curved without the jeer of mockery. The silence during the meal was golden and wonderful.
Rolt finished his third cup of coffee and glanced at her. "It's time I left."
Alanna nodded, rising from her chair. "I'll drive you to where you left your car."
They walked to the front door. There, Rolt halted and faced her. Alanna stopped, glancing uncertainly at him, meeting his probing look.
"Will you move your things into my room?" His hand slipped inside her robe, cupping her breast. "Or shall I move my clothes into yours?" he asked quietly.
"I'll move mine," Alanna promised with faint breathlessness.
His exploring hand slid around her to the small of her back, drawing her against him to receive his hungry kiss. The clean scent of him was a heady fragrance. His mouth-carried the taste of rich coffee. It remained on her lips when he lifted his head.
"We'd better leave now or I'll never go," he declared huskily.
The door was jerked open and Alanna walked through it, hiding a pleased smile. It was a wondrous discovery to learn that she could shatter his composure, that his control wasn't as iron-clad as she had believed. He was as vulnerable to the ardor of her kiss as she was to his. The rain-washed world outside looked beautiful and bright. Her heart sang joyously.
Chapter Nine
THE silver gleamed against the white linen tablecloth. The crystal goblets sparkled with rainbow brilliance. The high polish of the china plates glistened richly. Alanna moved the floral arrangement an inch, wondering if Rolt would notice that they were the same flowers that had been in her wedding bouquet. She stepped back and surveyed the table. Candles stood tall and straight in their silver holders; a bottle of champagne was chilling in its bucket of ice.
In the kitchen, the soup was warming on a burner. The salad was waiting in the refrigerator with the dessert. The steaks were marinating, ready to be put under the broiler. Everything was in readiness for Rolt's arrival.
Including herself. Alanna had been floating on a cloud all day. And tonight she wore a lavender cloud, a filmy dress of chiffon with a plunging neckline. It made her feet ethereal and feminine and excitingly alluring. Gliding at least an inch or two above the floor, she moved to the sliding glass door near the sundeck and frowned impatiently at the western sun.
"Oh, please go down early tonight," Alanna requested urgently. "We can't have a romantic candlelight dinner with you shining in."
A car stopped in front of the house. She pivoted toward the wide hall connecting the dining room to the living room, and waited breathlessly in anticipation. The front door opened.
"Alanna?" Rolt's voice demanded an answer.
"I—I'm in here." A bubble of happiness nearly cut off her voice. She didn't rush to meet him. She wanted him to come into the dining room and see her preparations for their evening.