No easy way out (3 page)

Virginia was forced to concede that she was enjoying herself and
having fun-fun made possible by a hidden identity and a silly pet
name. She was feeling more confident every minute, and with that
confidence her initial fears and shyness evaporated. The nonstop
energy transmitted by the crowd pumped exhilaration into her veins.
She cast her wallflower image aside and stepped into a celebration
of life.

Reality disintegrated under the music and the laughter and the
ever-changing costumed partners. Fantasy and illusion had become
concrete and tangible. The metamorphosis from dull, dreary Dr.
Farrell into swinging, uninhibited Ginger was complete.

Virginia laughingly bowed out of the next dance and withdrew to
the bar. The bartender, in surgeon's green, whipped up a tall,
exotic creation garnished with an array of fruit. She eagerly
polished off the innocuous-tasting punch, ordered another, and
missed the man's raised eyebrows when she requested a third drink
of the beverage he had christened "Kamikaze."

Leaning against the polished oak bar, Virginia searched the
shadowy table-lined ballroom and the pulsating crowd for Diane. She
discovered her friend at the buffet table. Diane had traded Robin
Hood for an Arabian sheikh and was playing her harem girl role to
the hilt by feeding her new partner some delicacies.

A red-caped devil plucked the glass from Virginia's hand,
wrapped his arms around her waist, and whirled her back among the
dancers, never missing a beat of the throbbing Latin tango. For the
next few hours Virginia floated from partner to partner. She
sampled the smorgasbord, indulged in a variety of exotic libations,
and would have made Fred Astaire beg to have her play his leading
lady.

She was light-headed, lighthearted, and reckless. Her slightly
inebriated consciousness prodded and urged her to be sensible and
get some fresh night air.

Once outside, took a deep breath, shook her head to clear it
from the music and smoke, and found herself swallowing an
unexpected yawn. Suddenly she was glad she had left the madness
behind and taken refuge on one of the many balconies that graced
the mansion. She looked up into the tranquil midnight-blue sky, lit
by a brilliant harvest moon that rivaled the daytime sun.

She leaned against the black wrought-iron railing and became
totally mesmerized by the view from Jerome Quimby's hillside
estate. At one time the wide sweep of land below had been a Spanish
settlement housing eleven families. Now it was an awesome,
sprawling megalopolis in a land of earthquakes, where one lived in
bondage to the automobile.

To the south was a man-made concrete trail of tied and knotted
freeways, spangled with the greenery of palms, leading to the
Pacific Ocean. To the north and west lay the fertile San Fernando
Valley; in the east, lights from the steel and glass skyscrapers of
Los Angeles winked in the night.

Virginia closed her eyes and stretched her bare arms with
languid abandon toward the City of Angels. Her lungs were refreshed
by the fragrance of exotic evening blooms, while the balmy breeze
caressed her warm skin. She had to admit the evening was not the
disaster she had expected.

She had listened to countless stories with never a thought to
correcting any of the numerous mistakes she had heard. She had
giggled enchantingly at the witty jokes, deftly handled the clumsy
passes and a few rough, drunken caresses. She had enjoyed playing
the uncautious coquette-she was once again an instigator.

Virginia patted the silk mask with sincere affection. It was the
catalyst. Behind this mask she felt safe and secure, daring and
bold. The tiny, delicate pink satin held back the sane, sensible
Virginia and released the heady, flamboyant Ginger. She seemed to
be the embodiment of two women-one intelligent, cool, and reserved;
the other giggling, flirtatious, and brazen. It was a strange
paradox yet not totally an uncomfortable one.

Once again Virginia's light blue eyes focused on the night sky,
searching the stars for the constellation of Perseus. There, at the
tip of Medusa's Head, was the well-known variable star Algol.
Tonight she and Algol shared an affinity among that great infinity
that was the universe. Right now Algol sparkled like a gleaming
jewel, but in a matter of hours it would grow dim and lose
two-thirds of its brilliance.

She too would suffer that same fate. In a few more hours the
Halloween party would be over, the costumes and masks put away, and
Virginia would once again be a lab coat, glasses, and bun-with an
enormous IQ. A rather desolate sigh escaped her pink-tinted lips.
Diane had been right: She was missing an integral part of life.

She wondered if some of tonight's brilliance couldn't be
harvested and turned into adrenaline that could be permanently
pumped into her psyche. It was wonderfully exciting to be treated
like a woman rather than a computer or an inanimate piece of
machinery. While she might make the feminists wince, Virginia
couldn't deny that being a sex object certainly boosted one's
sagging ego. It had been a long time since a man had paid attention
to
her
rather than her achievements.

But could she change? Tonight was a fantasy, an illusion-it
wasn't real. Minute by minute, day by day, that's what counted. Oh,
but to escape behind a mask. Virginia wished all women that reward,
even if it was for just one night!

Something soft landed against her bare shoulder; her hand came
up to capture a tiny pink rosebud that. slid against the swell of
her breast. Another blossom grazed her arm, then fell silently to
her feet. Puzzled, Virginia bent to retrieve it. Her eyes narrowed
and focused on a dark shape almost blending into the shadows of the
walled concrete steps leading down to the grounds.

"Good evening," drawled a deep masculine voice.

"Good evening," Virginia murmured after a moments hesitation.
She watched as he approached, his lean, muscular frame exuding the
animal energy and grace of a stalking panther. She hadn't seen him
inside. She would have remembered.

He was tall and formidable-looking in his black attire. His
broad shoulders and chest were emphasized by a wide-collared,
wide-cuffed silk shirt, unbuttoned nearly to the waist, and
close-fitting trousers hugged his slim hips. The hard-brimmed
Spanish riding hat and black scarf mask succeeded in concealing
most of his face, but Virginia could see a straight masculine nose,
a strong square jaw and firm, molded lips.

He smiled at her undisguised appraisal, the grooves deepening in
his cheeks. "Taking a brief rest from all your attentive partners,
my beautiful Rabbit?" he inquired in an amused tone that held more
than a hint of a Southern drawl.

She merely smiled. "And you?"

He gave a casual nod, reached up, removed his riding hat and ran
a large hand through thick dark hair, distinguishedly streaked with
silver. "I'm not one for Jerome's little bashes," he answered
dryly, leaning his sinewy body against the railing. "I'm just
playing the dutiful houseguest. I rigged up this costume and spent
the evening wandering in and out of the main event, enjoying the
buffet and the drinks."

Virginia relaxed. He was just a visitor, not an employee at
AVELCOMP, so she wasn't likely to run into him at the water cooler
on Monday. This information instantly renewed her self-confidence.
She felt safe and secure and, suddenly, bold and reckless. Virginia
decided to indulge in a little game of feminine seductiveness. She
shook back a wealth of hair that shimmered with molten strokes of
gold and flashed her companion a provocative smile. "And who are
you supposed to be?" Her lashes flirted at him behind the satin
mask.

His lips twisted in a little half-smile; his hand captured hers.
"A humble bandit of Old California, at your service."

At the touch of his warm lips the skin on the back of her hand
seemed alive with excitable nerve endings. "A very gallant bandit."
Her heart pounded roughly against her breast and made her voice
quite breathless. "But, alas, I'm afraid I don't possess any jewels
that would hold your interest." Her ringless free hand gave a
dismissing gesture as she sighed with demure affectation.

The moonlight slanted across his eyes, making them glow like
polished agates. His bold gaze held her prismatic irises a
prisoner. "Your beauty and charm outshine any gems, fair Rabbit."
Again he lifted her hand, this time palm up, his even white teeth
lightly nipping the sensitive flesh near her thumb.

The tug of war in Virginia's mind was taking on full-battle
proportions. A sensible voice urged her back inside to the safety
of the crowd. A reckless entity tempted her to stay and continue
this intimate tete-a-tete with the handsome Bandit. Reckless won.
Virginia leaned back, hands curved around the railing, one knee
provocatively bent, her head cocked sideways in a coy come-hither
pose. Her body talked a silent language to his.

"And what do you do at AVELCOMP, my lovely Rabbit?"

She lazily moved one sensuous, bare shoulder. "Oh, a little of
this, a little of that." Virginia's smooth, liquid soprano lilted
vaguely. "I'm very adaptable." Her iridescent eyes widened
innocently behind the flirtatious mask.

"I bet you are." The Bandit leisurely studied her full but
lithe, highly visible feminine terrain.

"And what do you do?" Virginia's voice came out an enticing
purr.

"A little of this, a little of that. I'm very adaptable too." He
had moved closer, his hard-muscled leg casually pressed against her
sleek, black-stockinged thigh.

The night air was filled with erotic stirrings. A sultry breeze
carried the perfumed offering of evening flowers and deftly blended
it with the haunting sound of trumpet notes filtering through the
French doors out to the balcony.

The Bandit turned, his voice low and infinitely inviting. "We
can't let this music go to waste." His hands slid slowly up the
silken length of Virginia's arms to pull her closer.

Her skin tingled with delicious sensations. She leaned forward
until her full breasts touched his chest, deliberately teasing the
curling mat of dark hairs visible between the parted shirt.
Virginia found she was aching to feel the wonders of his firm,
athletic body, and her eager fingers curved into his sinewy biceps.
The high-heeled pumps added the scant inches needed to put her eyes
and mouth on a level with his.

The Bandit's movements were unrushed and sensual. He savored
every moment of this encounter. His determined hands slipped down
the sides of her satin costume and sculptured her lush curves
against his hard frame. She responded quite naturally to the
exquisitely pleasurable stimulation he was creating. Their bodies
melded together in perfect synchronization with the music.

An undeniable spark of electricity flowed. Time and circumstance
prevailed. Barriers were lowered, reserves set aside, as were the
rules. They were two puppets in Fate's scheme. Puppets whose
strings were controlled by surging emotions and heightened
desires.

His caressing hands blazed an erotic trail down her spine to the
rounded contours of her buttocks. There his fingers tangled and
played with the fluffy white bunny tail. Her hands explored the
steel strength beneath his shoulders; her fingertips gently
massaged his neck, then moved upward to his face. Pastel-pink
fingernails traced the angle of his jaw and the curve of his lean
cheek, teasing the lobe of his ear before they submerged themselves
in the virile coils of dark hair that curled onto his shirt
collar.

Virginia had succumbed to a world hidden deep within the secret
recesses of her female psyche. A world controlled by sensual
pleasure. A world sharp and alert with a brilliant burning. Her
mind felt strangely possessed. The gleaming eyes that blazed behind
the black scarf mask had hypnotized her. The inherent male scent of
his flesh, combined with the subtle hint of spice cologne,
tantalized her libido and played havoc with her body chemistry. She
luxuriated in the masculine physique that enveloped her like a
second skin.

She wished it were possible to capture this sliver of time-to
seal these memories in a bottle like fine wine, to uncork it and
savor it again and again. She was losing herself to age-old desires
and a secret, hungry yearning. She wasn't going to fight it-she was
going to enjoy it. A submissive sigh escaped her. Virginia snuggled
contentedly into the warm hollow of his neck, her body burning its
womanly imprint into his hard, slim, masculine form.

What had started out as fun and games beneath the harvest moon
suddenly flared into desire. Desire that was sparked and fanned by
the golden-haired temptress the Bandit held in his arms. The smooth
expanse of her bare skin was like velvet beneath his palms. Her
supple anatomy responded to his every direction. Her eyes mirrored
hidden pleasures; her perfect lips tempted; the subtle nuances of
her perfume seared his brain. The total impact of her femininity
rendered him intoxicated and irresponsible.

His knuckles stroked the delicate hollow beneath her cheekbone,
then flowed down the sensitive tendons of her throat. She moved her
head, sending silken waves spilling over his arm, and allowed his
questing fingers free access to the erogenous terrain exposed by
the brief costume.

The Bandit's long fingers captured Virginia's face. His lambent
gray eyes studied her glowing ethereal features in the luminous
night. "You are exquisite." His voice was a hoarse whisper. His
tongue traced the outline of her half-parted lips, then his warmly,
possessive mouth filled a sudden gap of silence.

His probing tongue was insistent, penetrating into the lush
interior of her mouth. She met it, hesitantly at first, then with
matched fevered passion. Their tongues worked together like skilled
swords, thrusts and parries, ripostes and lunges-a well
orchestrated intimate duel.