Temptation's Kiss (20 page)

“I
was
to blame. Who did I think I was, to kiss another man's bride? At least the way I kissed you. It wasn't the most noble thing I've ever done.”

“But I let you kiss me. I
wanted
you to.”

He smoothed her hair. “That's the only reason I let myself do it. I thought that you couldn't help what happened between us any more than I could.”

“I haven't been able to admit it to myself until now. I lashed out at you, harbored anger, made you out the villain because I wouldn't admit my own guilt.”

“You were a faithful wife to James,” he said quietly. “If I had thought there was the slightest chance you might not be, I'd have come after you. I'd have said to hell with conscience and moral conviction and friendship.”

She shuddered and snuggled closer to him. “I wasn't always faithful in my heart. If you had made an overture, I'm… I'm not sure what I would have done.”

“You'd have sent me packing, just like you did the night before your wedding. That's why I loved you, Megan. If you had kissed me without feeling guilty, I'd have probably forgotten you within weeks. You'd have been no different from so many other women I'd met.

“But you
were
different,” he went on. “So wonderfully different, with your righteous indignation following the most sexually explicit kiss I'd ever experienced. The contrast bewildered and elated me. I knew you were the woman I wanted, the woman I'd always love, whether I could have you or not.”

She raised herself up to kiss him softly on the lips. He caught a strand of her hair and looped it through his fingers, toying with it even as she lay her head down again on his chest.

“I blamed you for James's death,” she confessed in a small voice.

“I know. That was the hardest thing to take, because I had no recourse. Anything I did you would have interpreted as arrogant selfishness. I bided my time as long as I could.”

“If anyone's to blame for James's death, it's me.”

“Only James is to blame.”

“I should have seen to it that he took better care of himself.”

“He was an adult.
He
should have seen to it.”

“If I'd loved him the way I should have, I'd have badgered him to slow down, to stop smoking for good, not to drink so much. I should have insisted.”

“If he had loved you the way he should have, you wouldn't have needed to.” Her head came up to look at him. “Didn't you ever think of that, Megan?” He framed her face with his hand. “He had a responsibility to you. He knew he was living too hard and too fast, because you, I, everyone told him he was. But he was too cocksure to believe it. He knew his blood pressure was dangerously high. I didn't send him out on martini lunches; he went. I didn't like his late evenings with clients because I knew that meant you were alone.”

A lone tear trickled down her cheek. He captured it with his thumb and spread the dewiness across her lips. “You're no more to blame for James's death than I am. His own compulsive drive to succeed at the expense and exclusion of everything else, even his own health, is what brought on that coronary.”

She sniffed back the remaining tears and smiled. “Thank you for that.”

He smiled softly. “Don't mention it.” His thumb skimmed along her bottom row of teeth.

“I transferred all my guilt to you,” she admitted. “I saw only what I wanted to see, heard only what I wanted to hear. I saw only your vices and was blind to your virtues.” She lay on her back, urging him to his side with a compelling hand on his shoulder. “I'm not sure you have any vices.”

“Oh, I have plenty.” His eyes began a lecherous trek down her body. “One being…”

“Yes?” she hummed when his hands joined in the carnal activities his eyes had initiated.

“One being a naked lady with cinnamon-colored hair, perfect breasts, satiny skin, pink nipples that…”

Megan knew that the night was far from over.

Ten

S
he woke to the sound of her shower running and tuneless whistling. A smile played about her lips, becoming full-blown. Suddenly she laughed out loud and hugged the pillow that retained the scent of Josh's cologne. She buried her nose in its soft depth and inhaled deeply.

Had she ever known contentment like this? Never. Had her body ever been so satisfied? Never. Had her mind ever been so expanded, her senses so alert? Never. Had she ever so looked forward to a new day? Never.

Having had very little sleep, she didn't know why she wasn't exhausted. Instead, tiny capsules of energy were exploding inside her, filling her body to overflowing with enthusiasm for living.

She swung her naked legs to the floor and bounded out of bed, intent on joining Josh in the shower. Indeed, he had his nerve, using her shower without first asking permission! She laughed again before assuming a perturbed expression and stalking toward the bathroom, where the whistling was increasing in volume.

She was brought up short by the strident ringing of the telephone. “Damn,” she cursed before lifting the receiver to her ear and saying an impatient good morning.

“Uh, good morning, Ms. Lambert. This is Barnes.”

Megan's brow wrinkled with puzzlement. Whatever could he want, calling long-distance at this time on a Sunday morning? “Hello, Barnes.”

“I guess you wonder why…. You see, I was really calling Mr. Bennett, but there was no answer in his room. I knew I could count on your giving him a message.”

Her heart slowed after having lurched in panic. Had Barnes known Josh was in her shower at this very minute? She wasn't ashamed of it; she just didn't want it to be made public yet. “What kind of message?” she asked.

“Well, it's kind of complicated,” he began.

‘Try it out on me.” She shifted her weight impatiently from one foot to the other. Damn it, she didn't want to talk business; she wanted to jump in the shower with Josh, to caress with lathered hands the body she now knew so well.

“Well, one of Josh's men, his name is Clancey—his last name, not his first. Anyway this Clancey is in charge of the new Air South campaign. You know they're ready to launch a new fleet of airplanes to—”

“I know all about Air South's expansion and the ad campaign that will go with it. I also know that Josh's ‘agency is handling their advertising. Now, what's the message for Josh?”

“This guy Clancey was at a party last night and got slightly sloshed. Actually, he got very sloshed. Anyway, seems Josh came down hard on him just before he left for Seascape. It's not the first time. I've heard Clancey bad-mouthing his, quote, ‘high and mighty’ boss before. No one pays any attention. I mean, everybody complains about their … uh … their…”

“I get the point, Barnes,” Megan said dryly. “Please get to yours.”

“Well, last night was different. He was really vindictive, you know? He threatened to take the ad campaign and sell it to Powell Associates, which is—”

“Josh's chief competitor,” Megan finished in a hushed voice as she sank onto the bed. Her mind, catapulted out of her impatience with Barnes, was now churning with the possible repercussions such an embezzlement would have on Josh's agency. It happened, though rarely, when an ad man from one agency worked on a campaign and then auctioned it to the highest bidder. Such espionage could bring ruin to an ad agency.

“Are you sure about this, Barnes? You're not exaggerating, are you?”

“No. Clancey was drunk, but he knew exactly what he was saying. His wife was there. She kept begging him to shut up before he ruined everything. No, he meant it.”

“Why would you call and tell Josh about this?”

She could imagine the chagrined look on Barnes's face as he sighed. “I guess I feel I owe him. He didn't have to warn you about the Dixieland account. He could have let me hang myself, and it would have been no skin off his nose. As it was, well, he was responsible for my getting chewed out, but I needed chewing out.”

Had it not been for her concern about Josh's business, she would have smiled. As it was, she said tersely, “Don't talk about this to anyone.”

“I won't.”

“I'll be back in the office tomorrow. We'll talk then.” She'd almost hung up when she heard him again.

“Ms. Lambert?”

“Yes?”

“I had a date with that woman who was giving me a hard time.”

“And?”

“She won't be doing that anymore.”

“You set her straight?”

“No, I saw the light. I can do better.”

Megan did smile then. “I always thought you could.”

“Thanks for… well, you know, for everything.”

“No. Thank
you,
” she said, referring to his tip on the traitor, Clancey.

She was just replacing the receiver when two hard arms came from behind her to wrap around her waist and an avid mouth adhered itself to her neck. “That better have been a female caller, and do you know just how saucy your little rear end is?”

“Oh, Josh,” she said, whirling around to face him. It suddenly occurred to her that she had the ammunition that she'd have given anything for even a few days ago. She had the power to totally defeat Josh if she wanted to. Withholding this information about Clancey's betrayal would cause a serious setback to his career. He'd face public ridicule for letting such a precious account slip through his fingers. He'd lose tens of thousands of dollars in revenue.

Right there on the tip of her tongue was the secret that, left untold, would assure her of a revenge greater than any she could have dreamed. By smiling beguilingly up at him and wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing her body to his, and passing off the telephone call as a wrong number, she could lead him like a lamb to slaughter—innocent, unaware, incognizant of the disaster that was waiting for him.

But Megan didn't even entertain the thought. She knew only an urgent need to help the man she loved.

“Something terrible has happened, Josh.”

His mouth swooped down on hers for a hard kiss.“You got pregnant last night? Don't worry. I'll marry you. I hope it's twins.”

She tore her mouth free from his persistent lips. “Please. I mean it.”

“Who was that?” he asked, snapping his head up, instantly alert to her distress. He gripped her arms.

“Barnes.”

The irregular brow shot upward. “Barnes!” he said scoffingly, with no small amount of relief. “Don't tell me. His girl friend's left him again.”

“Josh, listen.” Her hands wrapped as far as they could around his biceps and shook him slightly. “You have a man named Clancey working for you.”

“Yes,” he answered with a puzzled frown.

“He's going to take all his work for the Air South Airline to Powell Associates.”

He stared at her for a moment, his face expressionless. “What?” he asked at last, his voice a disbelieving whisper.

“He and Barnes were at the same party last night. Clancey got drunk and started spouting off unflattering comments about you. Barnes said he was disgruntled over some argument you'd had with him and was threatening to take his ideas to your competition.”

She didn't know what to anticipate, but it wasn't the booming laughter that shook the ceiling. Josh collapsed on the bed, pulling her down with him. She was so dismayed by his absurd reaction to the disastrous news that she was almost unaware that he hadn't bothered to dress after his shower. His body hair was still slightly damp.

“I didn't think Barnes was that ingenious,” he said, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

“Ingenious? Josh, don't you see—”

“Don't
you
see. This is Barnes's way of getting me back. He probably even had a spy here who tattled on us. He had the bad grace to call at this time of the morning, hoping to interrupt something.” His arms closed around her back and drew her hard against him. “We won't let him, will we?”

But she pushed the heels of her hands against his chest, her arms stiff. “Barnes isn't like that. He wasn't lying.”

“I'm not saying he was being malicious,” Josh said in a conciliatory tone she found highly irritating. “I'm just saying he's playing a little joke on us, paying us both back for the hand-slapping we gave him.”

She pushed off the bed, stomped over to a chair where she'd left her caftan, and pulled it over her head. “This is no joke,” she said tightly.

“All right. So he heard someone griping about me and took his mutterings and ran with them, built a mountain out of a molehill.”

“I think you should consider Clancey's threats as more than mutterings.”

Josh propped up on his elbows, nonchalant in his nakedness. “Megan, why are you getting angry?”

Again his tone annoyed her. “Because you're implying that my employee is either a spiteful sneak with a warped sense of humor or an imbecile. If you think I'd hire such a person, then I have a fair indication of the credibility you give me as a businesswoman.”

“That's not true.”

“The hell it isn't,” she flared. “Have you or have you not argued with Clancey?”

“It wasn't an argument. I told him his copy for the print ads stank to high heaven and gave him two weeks to revise it.”

“And you question his holding a grudge? I know how you can put people down. Apparently Clancey's had enough.”

Angry in his own right now, Josh rolled off the bed, picked up his underwear from the floor where he'd shed it the night before, and tugged it up his legs. Megan's mouth grew dry as she watched him adjust himself to fit comfortably in it.

“Clancey knew that copy was pure crap and needed changing. Usually he's a good man, with creative ideas. But too often he starts thinking of himself as a prima donna, and he can't tell good from bad because his ego gets in the way. I've taken him to task before and he always comes around. He's loyal. He'd never go over to the competition.”

She ground her teeth. “You're so arrogant, so damn sure of yourself. I'm amazed at your self-esteem. Is everyone in the world supposed to share it, to think you're somebody special?”

He cast a sly glance toward the bed. “You do.”

The blood rushing to her head made her dizzy, and she gripped the edge of the dresser. “Get out,” she rasped.

He cursed with more imagination than she'd ever heard in her life, and ran agitated fingers through his hair. “I'm sorry I said that, Megan. You made me so angry—”