No Red Roses: A Loveswept Classic Romance (Santa Flores) (15 page)

Tamara was sure he hadn’t noticed their presence until one reporter asked sharply, “Your last song came as quite a surprise, Rex. It’s the first time you’ve ever dedicated a song to anyone. Who is ‘my lady’?”

Rex smiled slowly. “I thought you’d ask that. Tamara!”

The crowd of reporters parted as Rex beckoned in Tamara’s direction. Oh no, he wouldn’t expose her to this, would he? It seemed he would. Oliver nudged her firmly in the small of her back, propelling her forward, and she reluctantly made her way to Rex’s seated figure. She
could feel the color flood her cheeks as he took her hand and kissed it lingeringly. “Gentlemen, this is ‘my lady,’ Tamara Ledford.”

There was an immediate volley of questions that Rex deftly parried until one reporter queried if Tamara was an actress or in the entertainment field.

Rex’s eyes lit with mischief as he continued to hold Tamara’s hand firmly in his own. “I can see how you might think so,” he drawled. “She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” There was a murmur of laughing assent and he continued solemnly, “Actually, her occupation is slightly more bizarre. Tamara is a genuine, card-carrying witch. How else do you think she beguiled me into writing that song for her?”

There was a burst of laughter from the reporters and Tamara’s embarrassment and annoyance increased tenfold. But Rex wasn’t through. “I’m quite serious,” he said, with a grin that belied his words. “It’s the eye of newt keeping her complexion that satin smooth, and she can brew up a love potion that can lay any man low.” He
looked up and winked outrageously into her angry face. “She’s a very dangerous lady.”

Before she could make the indignant response this remark deserved, Rex quickly changed the subject and released her hand. Oliver was beside her instantly, adroitly extricating her from the crowd and out of the room. She soon found herself outside the concert hall and bustled into a taxi.

S
EVEN

A
S THEY PULLED
away from the hall, Oliver turned to her with a frown. “Rex wanted to send you home in the limousine, but I talked him out of it. He’s going to need all the protection he can get when he leaves the hall. That crowd at the stage door will tear him apart.”

Tamara was still so annoyed at Rex’s blatant ridicule of her before the reporters that she didn’t answer. She was silently fuming during the entire drive to the apartment.

When Oliver had escorted her to the apartment door, he took a final look at her angry face and said dryly, “I have to make an appearance at
a party the promoters of the concert are giving, since Rex is coming right home. You won’t try to drown him again before I get back, will you?”

Her violet eyes flashed fire. “I might, Mr. Oliver. I just might!” She entered the apartment and slammed the door behind her.

She strode furiously into the bedroom, dropped the sumptuous cloak on the bed, stripped off the rest of her clothes, and stuffed her hair into a shower cap. She stepped into the shower stall and turned the water on full blast, letting the spray wash away a tiny amount of the irritation she was feeling toward Rex. What had possessed him to embarrass her in front of all those reporters, she wondered in exasperation. He’d known she preferred to keep her association with him as discreet as possible, and yet he’d deliberately made her the amused focus of the reporters from probably half a dozen newspapers.

By the time she’d finished her shower and slipped on her nightgown and tailored white satin robe, she’d worked herself into a fine state of indignation. She could hardly wait to confront Rex with her anger. After an hour’s impatient
pacing and aimless wandering about the living room, though, she decided to go to the kitchen and make herself that sandwich Rex had mentioned earlier.

She’d put on a pot of coffee, removed a plate of ham from the refrigerator, and was looking futilely for bread in the many walnut cabinets when Rex drawled from the doorway, “Ah, could any man ask for more? A gorgeous woman puttering happily about the kitchen and waiting for him to come home.”

She threw him an icy glance. “I’m not puttering happily,” she said, slamming another cabinet door. “I can’t find the damn bread!”

“In the red bread-saver on the counter,” he said, strolling forward and seating himself on a high stool at the scarlet serving bar. “Is that coffee I smell?” he asked wistfully. “You wouldn’t want to give a poor entertainer a cup?”

“No, I would not!” she said shortly, as she drew out two slices of bread from the red metal container and proceeded to build herself a generous sandwich. “I wouldn’t give you a glass of water if you were dying of thirst.” She noticed
with annoyance that he was still wearing the dark suede pants, and his white corsair’s shirt was unbuttoned almost to the waist now. Why must the man look so devastatingly attractive?

He sighed resignedly. “I thought you were angry when you left the dressing room. What have I done now?”

She whirled to face him. “What have you done?” she sputtered incredulously. “You’ve only publicized our supposed relationship before the entire world, besides spouting that absurd witch balderdash and making me look utterly ridiculous!”

His lips tightened and his ebony eyes darkened stormily. “I did what I thought was best. There was no way to keep your presence in my life a secret, and I’ve found the best way of handling reporters is to give them a little so they won’t probe too deeply. I consider that bit about your being a witch something of an inspiration. They’ll be so busy writing titillating stories about my resident witch that they just may forget to check into your background.”

She strode up to his stool and planted her
hands on her hips. “And what if they don’t forget?” she asked belligerently. “What if one of them gets to Aunt Elizabeth?”

Rex’s face clouded with answering anger. “Damn it, I did everything I could! I can’t perform miracles!” He grabbed her by the arms and gave her a little shake. “Give me a break, will you?”

“That’s not good enough,” she bit out. “I won’t have Aunt Elizabeth upset by all this!” She struggled furiously to break his iron grip on her arms. Then as her struggles proved fruitless, she gave a little cry of frustration and pushed against his chest with all her strength.

Rex’s grip on her arms loosened as the high stool he was sitting on toppled backward, and he hit the floor with a bone-jarring crash!

Tamara gave a whimpering cry of horror. Rex’s limp form lay motionless on the floor, his face pale and his lids closed. She dropped to her knees beside him. He was so still. Suppose he’d hit his head when he fell? Suppose she’d killed him? A quiver of shocked panic ran through her and she
felt as if the bottom had dropped out of her world, leaving only dark emptiness.

She cradled his head on her lap. “No, you can’t be hurt,” she moaned frantically, tears pouring down her cheeks. “You’re not hurt!”

A dizzying relief enveloped her as his absurdly long lashes fluttered and then his lids opened to reveal a wry flicker in the midnight dark eyes. “If you say so, sweetheart, but you could fool me,” he said huskily. “Remind me not to make you really angry, will you? I don’t know if I’ll survive the next time.”

“I’m so terribly sorry,” she sobbed, hugging his head against her breasts and rocking him like a beloved child. “I didn’t mean it. Are you badly hurt? Shall I call a doctor?”

He weakly shook his head. “I don’t think it’s anything serious,” he said soothingly, rubbing his cheek in sensuous enjoyment against the soft satin covering her breasts. “It hurt like hell when I hit the floor and I think it knocked the breath out of me, but I’m in no pain right now I assure you.” With obvious reluctance, he added, “I guess I’d better try to sit up and make sure.”

With painstaking slowness, he levered himself to a sitting position, though not without a few muttered curses. When he was upright, there was a white line of pain about his lips. “Nothing’s broken,” he said, as he sank back onto her lap. “It’s probably just severe bruising.” He looked up into her anxious face and smiled. “I’m going to be sore as hell for a few days.”

She lovingly held him and his expression became suddenly thoughtful as he took in her brimming violet eyes and quivering lips. “What can I do for you?” she asked. “Shall I try to help you get up?”

“I’m very comfortable as I am,” he said, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “I wouldn’t think of moving at the moment.”

“My Lord, what’s happened here?” Scotty Oliver roared from the kitchen doorway. His incredulous appraisal took in the overturned chair, Tamara’s tear-streaked face, and Rex’s supine body. He came swiftly forward and knelt beside Rex, his face almost as pale and worried as Tamara’s.

Rex said casually, “We had a little accident. I
fell out of a chair. I’m okay, just a little sore. Don’t fuss, Scotty.”

“Fell out of a chair!” Oliver repeated skeptically. He cast one look at Tamara’s flushed, guilty face and said grimly, “Well, I only asked you not to drown him.” He looked back down at Rex. “We’d better get you to the emergency room.”

“No way. It’s nothing. Only some bruises.”

“He can hardly sit up,” Tamara said tremulously, smoothing Rex’s shining dark hair tenderly.

“That’s great, absolutely great.” Oliver shook his head with disgust. “How the hell are you supposed to give a three-hour concert in Houston tomorrow night? You’ll be in agony the entire time.”

“I’ve done shows with a 104-degree fever. I can muddle through this one,” Rex said stubbornly. “No hospitals!”

Oliver ran his hand through his hair distractedly. “Okay. I’ll get hold of a doctor and get him to prescribe some painkillers. I guess Houston
will think a doped-up Brody is better than no Brody at all.”

“No!” Tamara broke in fiercely. “You’re not pumping him full of drugs and pills! I’ll take care of him.”

“And how do you expect to accomplish that?” Oliver asked caustically. “You said yourself he could barely sit up.”

“I have some herbs that will help,” she answered. At Oliver’s derisive snort, she added heatedly, “They were using herbs for healing and for killing pain thousands of years before modern medicine developed penicillin and Valium, and in many cases they’re still a good deal healthier. I told you, I’ll take care of him!”

Her arms tightened possessively around Rex, and he looked up at her with his lips twitching in amusement. “You heard her, Scotty. She’ll take care of me.”

Oliver gave her a black scowl. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Rex.”

“I have absolutely no intention of doing anything at all. I’m just going to lie here and let Tamara take care of me.” He sighed contentedly.
“And I expect to enjoy every moment of it. Bring on your herbs and ointments, my lady. I’m completely at your disposal.”

A frown creased Tamara’s brow. “I have the ingredients to blend the liniment, but it needs heat to be really effective. Do you have a heating pad or an electric blanket?”

“Better than that,” Rex replied promptly. “My bathroom has a built-in sauna. Will that do?”

She nodded, relieved. “As you say, it will be much better. Do you think you can make it to the sauna if we help you?”

He nodded. “You run along and mix up your magic ointment. Scotty can help me undress and get me into the sauna before he goes to bed.”

Tamara smiled eagerly, and placing his head with tender care on the floor, leaped to her feet and hurried from the kitchen.

Her herb bag was lying beside her unpacked suitcases in a corner of the room, and she snatched it up and rifled through it quickly for the ingredients she needed. She frowned as she noticed she was low on benzoin, but perhaps if she added extra bay leaf it wouldn’t matter. She
hurried back to the kitchen and blended the herbs carefully, adding a bit of cooking oil she found in a cabinet, and then heated the mixture slowly over a low flame.

After pouring the warm ointment into a bowl, she grabbed several clean dish towels from a drawer and hurried quickly through Rex’s bedroom into the bathroom. She’d been so furious and upset when she entered the room earlier that she hadn’t noticed anything but the sunken tub. Now she realized the huge room contained not only a shower stall but also a small birch compartment that must be the sauna.

She quickly stripped off her robe and nightgown and wrapped a huge, white bath towel sarong-like about her body. Carefully balancing the bowl and towels, she opened the heavy birch door and entered, pausing just inside the door while her eyes adjusted to the dimness. The sauna was lit by a single red bulb that cast a rosy glow and she could see only dimly the benches bordering the birch walls. In the center of the room was a large metal container filled with white-hot coals and a small regulator faucet that
sent waves of dry heat through the small compartment.

“Over here!” Rex called, and she followed his voice to the far side of the room. As she drew within a few feet of him, she stopped abruptly. He was lying full length on his stomach on one of the wide benches, and he was totally nude!

She supposed she should have expected it. It would obviously be more practical if she were to treat him, and she’d realized this afternoon that Rex had no inhibitions regarding nudity. It was just that it hadn’t occurred to her. She allowed her gaze to trail lovingly over long, muscular legs dusted lightly with dark hair, to the tight buttocks and slim, taut waist and then up to the broad, powerful shoulders. How beautiful he was, she thought dreamily.

“Tamara?” Rex turned his head to look at her, and she came immediately to her senses. She moved forward briskly and seated herself beside him.

“I’ll try not to hurt you,” she said quietly, setting the towels on the floor and dipping her hand in the oily liniment.

For long, silent minutes she soothingly massaged the ointment into the muscles of his shoulders and upper back. Then she started on his lower spine and the hard, corded muscles of his buttocks. She derived an almost sensual pleasure out of the play of muscles between her fingers, and the occasional low grunt of contentment that Rex emitted when she managed to ease a particular pain.

She finally reached down for a towel to wipe her hands and said, “We’ll let that ointment bake in for ten minutes and then I’ll do it one more time.”