More than a Mistress(12)

"I'm sorry. I only came to see if you were done with your breakfast."  Luisa's lips thinned. "I've cleaned up my kitchen but I'd like to tidy  up out here, if it's all the same to you."

"Don't worry about the patio, Luisa. I'll take care of it."

"Oh, no, senora. Ms. Thorpe. I could never allow you to-"

"Luisa," Alex said brightly, "how's that sister of yours in-was it Santa Barbara?"

"Why-why yes. She's fine, thank you."

"I'll bet you don't get to see her very often." Alex cleared her throat.  "Why don't you take the station wagon and drive up for the weekend?"

The housekeeper stared as if Alex had lost her mind.

"The whole weekend, do you mean?"

"Yes. You could leave right now. Wouldn't you like to do that?"

"Of course. But..."

"But?"

"But in all the years I worked for your father and then for your husband, I never-"

"You don't work for them now," Alex said sharply. She took a deep  breath. "Luisa. Take the station wagon and go wherever you like. I'm  giving you the weekend off."

A while later, she heard the rumble of the front gates as Luisa drove  through them. Alex rose and walked through the garden to the koi pond.  Carl had added it, after her father's death. She watched the fat, golden  fish swimming back and forth, as they always did, back and forth in  their elegant, beautiful, perfect prison...

What on earth was the matter with her this morning?

"Get a grip, Alex," she muttered.

Moving quickly, she collected her breakfast dishes and entered the cool  darkness of Thorpe House. The kitchen was pristine; even the coffeepot  had been emptied, washed and dried. Alex did the same with her few  dishes, then looked at the clock.

Could it really be only eight-thirty?

Well, that was fine. She could weed the garden. Carlos would probably  scowl on Monday, when he saw she'd invaded his territory but this was  her house, her kitchen, her life...

The door chimes rang. Alex froze, remembering her dream, and then she  laughed. Black Knights didn't ride up to the castle doors and politely  ring the bell. Besides, no one could get through the gates without a  key.

Luisa must have forgotten something.

She hurried through the entry hall, the stones cold against her bare  feet. She smoothed down the skirt of her long white nightgown, undid the  bolt and opened the door.

"Luisa," she said, smiling, "what did you … "

Oh! Alex slammed the door shut and fell back against it. It wasn't her  sour-faced housekeeper who stood on the steps, it was Travis Baron.

Bang!

"Alex?" The door jolted under the blow of his fist. "Alex, open this door!"

Alex stumbled away from the door, her eyes fixed on it. How had he found  her? He didn't know where she lived. She'd never told him...

Bang! Bang!

"Open it, Alex, or so help me God, I'll kick it in!"

A whimper broke from her throat. She thought of the dream, of the Black Knight, and she began to tremble.

"Go away," she said, but the words came out a terrified whisper, lost  under the sounds of Travis's fists beating against the door and the  answering thud-thud of her own heart.

The door shuddered. She'd never thrown the bolt. She was afraid to go  back and do it, now. What if the door flew open while she was just  behind it? He'd be able to catch her, catch her and-and-

She blanked the terrible thought from her mind. Run, she told herself, run quickly and hide...

But it was too late. The door burst open, and Travis stepped inside.

Alex stared at him, transfixed, not believing what she saw. He was  dressed all in black. A black T-shirt fit snugly across his broad  shoulders and chest. Faded black jeans clung to his narrow hips and long  legs. Black boots, dusty with use, peeked from under the jeans.

He looked wild, and dangerous, and magnificently male. He was not a dream. He was flesh and blood, and he had come for her.

He had come for her.

Terror danced along her spine. Terror... and something else.

His eyes met hers. "Alex," he said softly.

Be calm, she told herself. It was a dream, just a dream. Whatever else  Travis Baron might be, he was a civilized man. And she was a civilized  woman, who knew how to deal with uninvited guests.

Alex drew herself up. "You're not welcome here, Mr. Baron."

Travis laughed. He'd imagined a dozen scenarios on the way here but not  one of them had featured Alexandra Thorpe in a virginal-looking  nightgown, standing in the center of a room that looked as if it came  straight out of the fifteenth century, facing him down as if he were  nothing more than an unwelcome guest when she had to know what had  brought him here.                       
       
           



       

Oh, yes, she knew. He could see it in the darkness of her eyes. In the  leap of her pulse, just visible in the hollow of her throat. And in the  tension that hummed between them, like electricity through a  high-voltage line.

Travis smiled lazily and kicked the door shut. "Is that any way to  welcome the man you're supposed to spend the weekend with, Princess?"

Run, the voice inside her said again, run!

But she couldn't. She knew better than to turn her back on a hungry  beast, and that was what the man lounging against the door with such  seeming carelessness reminded her of, not a Black Knight but a black  jaguar, a hungry black jaguar on the prowl that would spring at her,  devour her in a heartbeat, if she showed her fear.

"Don't be ridiculous, Mr. Baron. I never had any intention of spending the weekend with you. Surely, you know that."

"What did you intend to do with me, then, Princess?"

"Nothing," she said quickly. "It was-that was for charity."

He laughed. "Charity, huh?" A smile, as cold and feral as any she'd ever  seen, twisted across his mouth. "That's a charming sentiment, Princess.  But I'm not in a charitable frame of mind this morning."

"Just-just stop right there, Mr. Baron." Alex swallowed hard as he  started slowly toward her. "I swear, if you come any closer, I'll-"

"All that time," he said roughly, "everything that we did, and you still won't call me by my name."

Alex's throat constricted. She took a step back, then another and  another. There was a heavy oak chair somewhere behind her; she put out a  hand, felt for it and moved around it.

"Mr. Baron-"

Travis kicked the chair aside. Alex danced backward. "Mr. Baron. I don't know why you came here, sir, but-"

"Don't you?"

God, he was still coming! Still coming...

"Luisa! Luisa? Call the police."

His smile was, she thought, almost gentle. "Luisa?"

"My housekeeper. Yes. Luisa! Dial 9-1-1. Tell them there's an intruder. Tell them-"

"The lady driving the Volvo station wagon? The one who's probably  halfway to the valley by now? You ought to tell her to be more careful  about locking that gate, Princess."

"My-my chauffeur, then." Alex's voice quavered. "You don't want me to  call him. He's-he's big. Very big. He's-he's a former wrestler. And  he'll-"

"Call him, by all means. I used to wrassle steers. It's what us cowboys  do for fun." Travis flashed a tight grin. "Call your chauffeur, if  you've really got one." His eyes turned from green to black as he closed  the distance between them. "It won't stop what's going to happen,  Alex."

She took another step back. Her shoulders hit the tapestried wall.

"Travis," she said breathlessly, while a honeyed sweetness spread through her.

"Say it again."

Alex swallowed dryly. "Travis. Please..."

"You said that last night, too."

"Said what?" He was inches away from her now, so close that she could  feel the heat of his body, smell the mingled scents of sea and soap and,  under it all, another smell, one that was wild and primitive and made  her pulse quicken. "The only thing I remember saying last night was that  I never wanted to see you ag--"

"You said, 'please."' Desire thickened his voice. "Please, you said, when we were in that doorway, when we were making love."

"It wasn't love! It was-"

"Sex." He reached out and touched his hand to her cheek. His fingertips  were rough and callused but his touch was gentle. She imagined herself  turning her head, catching his fingers and sucking them into her mouth.  The thought left her breathless. "That's fine, Princess. I don't believe  in fairy tales that end with forever after."

"And I don't believe in--in rape fantasies."

His quick, dangerous smile turned her bones to jelly. "Neither do I."  His thumb rolled over her bottom lip. "I'm talking about a man, and a  woman, and what both of them damn well know they want."

"No. Please, Travis, I beg you. If you've any decency at all-"

"Hell, no," he said roughly, "I don't. You pretty much saw to that, last night."