The Millionaire's Marriage Demand(10)

If he'd wanted to be an actor, he wouldn't have gone to medical school.

Not for the first time, he wished his sister Jenessa was here as well.  Although he hadn't seen a lot of her since he'd turned sixteen, he'd  made a point of staying in touch with her. Beautiful, wayward and  artistic, Jenessa was gradually making a name for herself among the  galleries and collectors that mattered; Travis had always admired her  fierce determination to go her own way. Right now, he could have done  with her moral support.

Resolutely Travis left his room and ran down the curved staircase. All  afternoon the guests had been arriving in their yachts, cabin cruisers  and private seaplanes. Now the party eddied among the tents set up on  the lawn, each lit by tiny white lights that glimmered like fireflies.  There were enough potted plants to stock every flower shop in New York,  and enough jewels on the women to buy the White House. He made his way  to the main tent, stopping to talk to people on the way, ironically  amused to note those of his father's friends who turned their backs  before he could speak to them.                       
       
           



       

Bankers and stockbrokers tended to have long memories: they wouldn't  have forgotten or forgiven that long-ago newspaper article. He sighted  Brent at the bar with a blond in a dress that highlighted at least two  of her obvious assets, and looked around for Julie. His gaze sharpened  as he saw her among a crowd of younger guests at the far end of the  lawn, as far from Brent as she could get. She hadn't seen him. He moved  closer, his heart thudding over the sound of the band.

Her dress was of raw Thai silk, slit to the knee, its simple lines and  thin straps elegant rather than overtly provocative, its subtle blending  of blues and greens emphasizing her eyes. A delicate gauze scarf  floated from the neckline, her shoulders gleaming through its soft  folds. Brazilian crystal shimmered around her throat and at her lobes.

He had to have her. He had to.

But not here. Not now. Later.

The words had come unbidden. But every nerve in Travis's body told him  they were true. He'd never in his life desired a woman so imperatively,  with such fierce impatience.

He turned away, going back to the main tent, where he joined Charles and  Corinne for a celebratory glass of champagne, danced with Corinne and a  couple of her friends, and ate supper with the old family doctor and  his wife, long allies of his. It was dark by the time he went in search  of Julie.

She was dancing to some raucous rock and roll in the tent closest to the  water. Slim and lissome, her hips moving with a sensuality that caught  at his throat, she looked as though she was having a wonderful time. Her  partner was a tall, bearded young man. Not for long, Travis thought,  waiting until the song ended before heading for the dance floor. He came  up behind her and looped an arm around her waist. "Hello, Julie."

A tremor ran through her body; she froze in the circle of his arm. Then  she turned as awkwardly as a puppet. "Travis," she mumbled. With an  obvious effort she added, "Do you know these people?"

The tall young man's name was Michael, and his plump pretty wife was called Kathy. "The next dance is mine," Travis said.

The music had started again. Under cover of the bass Julie hissed, "Are you asking me or telling me?"

She hadn't meant her ill temper to show. But all evening she'd been  waiting for him to find her, catching occasional glimpses of him,  furious that he should so cavalierly ignore her. Travis said abruptly,  "You're right, we don't need to dance. Do you want something to eat?"

"I've already eaten."

"Let's go for a walk down by the water."

"You ignore me all evening and now I'm supposed to jump ten feet high the minute you say so? I don't think so."

"Julie," he said, "I've danced with Corinne, I made a speech that was a  miracle of diplomacy when they toasted my father, I've been snubbed by  two-thirds of his friends, and I need ten minutes away from it all."  He'd also been publicly hugged by Charles, briefly, but nonetheless an  embrace. One Brent had witnessed, he thought with a quiver of unease.

Julie looked up at him more closely. There were lines of strain  bracketing his mouth and his eyes looked dark and depthless. Suddenly  she was tired of deception. "Last night I was on my balcony when you and  your family came out on the patio. I overheard everything that was  said, from the death of your mother to the disappearance of the family  ring."

Travis looked down at her, his jawline hard with tension. He'd always  guarded his privacy: a strategy that had served him well over the years.  He didn't like Julie knowing all the Strathem secrets; other than  Bryce, no one knew about his past. "Do you make a habit of listening to  other people's conversations?" he rasped.

She tilted her chin. "Sure …  it's how I get my kicks."

Travis disliked subservient women; he didn't have a worry in the world  about Julie. "My father, for some unknown reason, wants me to leave  Portland within the week."

"Are you going to?"

"No," Travis said. "I'm not much good at doing what I'm told. I'll stay until the end of the summer."

Julie looked at him in silence. Portland was a small city. Too small for  both of them; she herself had signed a three-month contract. She said,  "I can't go for a walk with you right now. I promised Kathy and Michael  I'd go with them when she feeds the baby …  I went to school with her and  Michael, and she's dying to show off her daughter. Oh, she's waving at  me now."                       
       
           



       

"I'll come with you," Travis said.

"I don't think-"

"Hey, Julie," Kathy said. "The sitter just called on the cell phone,  Andrea's awake. Travis, do you want to see our new addition? Three  months old tomorrow."

"Sure," he said easily, and tucked Julie's hand in his arm. "Let's go."

Julie's feet were killing her in her new silver sandals, and she felt  thoroughly out of sorts. She also felt as lustful as a stray cat under a  full moon. She walked across the grass toward the castle, trying to  keep as far from Travis as she could, every fiber in her body aware of  his long, easy stride. If only he wasn't so tall, so male, so damnably  handsome. When she added to that a velvet-soft evening filled with the  scent of roses and the tumble of waves on the beach, she was done for.

The baby was in a crib in a bedroom on the ground floor, where a lamp  threw golden light over the furniture. Kathy picked her daughter up,  while Michael went with the sitter to the nearby kitchen to heat a  bottle. "Here, Julie, hold Andrea for a minute," Kathy said. "I've got  to dig out a clean diaper."

The baby was thrust into Julie's arms. Instinctively she cupped the  little head with its dark fuzz of hair to her shoulder, supporting the  baby's spine with her other hand. The warmth of the small body, and  Andrea's fretful whimpering filled her with a deep tenderness.

Travis had stationed himself by the door, his eyes glued to the woman  holding the baby, his heart beating like a triphammer. If he'd had a  camera, he'd have taken a photo of her: Woman with Child. But why did he  need a camera? Wasn't her image engraved on his mind?

How little he really knew about her! About her dreams and desires, the  betrayals of her past and her needs. He'd always thought of himself as  reasonably astute. But she was an enigma.

As though the intensity of Travis's gaze was a pull she couldn't  gainsay, Julie glanced up. His eyes seemed to see right into her soul.  She held Andrea a little more tightly, trying desperately to look  anywhere but at him. And failed.

"Put her down on the bed, Julie," Kathy said. "What's up? Are you okay?"

"Oh …  yes, I'm fine," Julie stumbled, and laid the baby on the flannel  blanket. Her arms felt empty, her body cold. Warm me, Travis, she  thought, warm me.

Knowing she had no choice, she crossed the room toward him. As he put an  arm around her shoulders, she leaned into his body, into its solidity  and heat, closing her eyes. She couldn't cry. Not here. Not now.

Why would she want to cry? Travis was a stranger, chance-met, soon to be gone from her life.

Travis said softly, "Hold still, the baby dribbled on your shoulder."  Gently he started scrubbing at her gauze scarf where it rested on her  bare skin, using a tissue he'd taken from his pocket.

Why couldn't she have him? What was to stop her?

The thought had dropped into her mind without any warning. Calling on  every ounce of her resolve, Julie straightened, pulling away from him.  "Thanks," she said briefly. "Kathy, we'll leave you to it. I'm so glad  we met this evening, let's get together in the next couple of weeks."