"I just bet you did," she muttered, her eyes blazing violet fire. "No doubt you thought I'd be so grateful I'd jump immediately into your bed. Well, I'm not quite the tart you think me, Rex Brody. You can take your gifts and stuff them!"
Rex's forehead knotted in a frown, his lips tightening ominously. "You know, I'm really tempted to drown you," he said conversationally. "What thoroughly unpleasant ideas you get in that beautiful head of yours. I do not think of you as a tart, and those little gifts were not meant as bribes."
"And how did you expect me to react?" she asked sharply. "Presents on that scale are fairly self-explanatory. You might even say they're traditional."
"So you immediately assume I'm trying to buy your favors like some villain in an old-time melodrama," he growled. "I expected you to have the sense to know I'd never pull a dumb stunt like that. I admit that at times in my past relationships there has been a mutually agreed exchange of commodities, but give me credit for a little insight into your character, Tamara."
"Then why?" she asked, lifting her chin belligerently. "I hardly think Mr. Oliver is correct and you bought that exorbitantly expensive necklace to go with my eyes!"
There was a curiously sheepish look on Rex's face as he guiltily admitted, "Well, actually that comes pretty close. The necklace was something of an afterthought. I got to thinking how your eyes looked that night on the terrace after your tears had made them sparkle like jewels. I just thought amethysts would look sort of pretty with them."
Tamara's mouth dropped open in amazement. There could be no doubt of the sincerity of Rex's answer. There had been an almost childlike simplicity in his reply. "And the sports car and the new clothes?" she asked faintly.
He shrugged. "I wanted you to feel comfortable. You're an exceptionally lovely woman, but the circles you'll be moving in for the next month are fairly affluent." His lips twisted cynically. "There will be plenty of women who'll have their little hatchets sharpened to take the scalp of a gorgeous thing like you. I just thought I'd give you a little extra ammunition. As for the car, it was a form of insurance."
As she continued to gaze at him uncomprehendingly, he sighed and his dark eyes flickered restlessly. "Look, I know how confining it can be to be in the public eye all the time. Sometimes the restrictions it puts on your personal life are enough to drive you bananas. Your own car gives you at least the illusion of freedom. I was afraid if you didn't have some outlet, you'd be more likely to cut and run."
"I see," she said slowly, biting her lip in perplexity. Incredibly, she did understand Rex's rather strange reasoning. Looking back at what she'd recently learned of his lifestyle, it would seem perfectly logical to him that she would be as upset by the lack of freedom as he was himself. "But isn't this particular insurance a trifle extravagant?"
"Perhaps," he said simply, "but I like giving presents. When I was a kid, we were so dirt poor that neither giving nor receiving presents ever came into the picture. Lord knows I have plenty of money these days, so why shouldn't I give you something?"
Tamara felt a treacherous ache somewhere in the vicinity of her heart, and she found it hard to swallow. Rex's simple words evoked a picture of his deprived childhood and for a moment she experienced an almost maternal tenderness. "But you can't go around giving away sports cars," she said. "It's just not done."
"I was afraid you'd say that," he said gloomily. "I suppose you won't take the necklace, either?"
Tamara shook her head silently, her lips curving in a gentle smile. He looked like a disappointed little boy who didn't understand the insane reasoning of grownups.
"You've got to take the clothes," he argued aggressively, his dark eyes gleaming triumphantly through those almost girlishly long lashes. "How can you protect me from other women if you don't feel perfectly confident and self-assured?" She shook her head doubtfully and Rex pursued coaxingly, "Besides, I bought them all on sale. The stores won't take them back."
Tamara threw back her head and laughed out loud at this outrageous lie. He spoke of the Diors and St. Laurents as if they'd been picked up at a bargain basement jumble sale.
"Lord, but you've a lovely throat," he said suddenly in a husky voice. Reluctantly pulling his gaze away, his eyes lit mischievously. "I've got you, haven't I? You're going to accept the clothes?"
"On the condition that you'll allow me to return them when the tour is over," she agreed hesitantly, wondering at how boyishly pleased he looked at his triumph.
"Well see," he said evasively. "You're sure you won't take the necklace?"
"No, I will not take the necklace," she said firmly, then chuckled helplessly. "Do you realize how totally ridiculous this is? I'm actually tying in a bathtub fully dressed, arguing with you about a dumb necklace."
"It's a very pretty necklace," he defended. Releasing one of her wrists, he groped on the bottom of the tub and triumphantly brought up the glittering piece of jewelry. "If you won't keep it, you can at least let me see how it looks on you."
Without waiting for an answer he sat up in the tub, bringing her with him, and swiftly slipped the necklace over her head. It was surprisingly heavy as it lay in the hollow of her breasts and she looked down at it curiously. Her eyes widened with embarrassment and the color flew to her cheeks. Her breasts might just as well have been naked. Her wet peach silk blouse was clinging lovingly to every curve, and the necklace drew immediate attention to the taut sauciness of her nipples boldly outlined beneath the material.
Rex drew in his breath sharply, and her gaze flew to his face. What she saw there caused her own breath to catch in her throat. His eyes were fixed on the wet, clinging blouse and when he murmured hoarsely, "Damn, that's lovely," she knew he wasn't referring to the necklace.
From playful raillery, the moment had changed to one of unbearable intimacy. Tamara could almost touch the current of electricity that was flowing between them and generating a melting languor in her limbs. For the first time since she had marched through the bathroom door, she was fully conscious of Rex's nudity, of the hard, corded strength of his bronze, virile body that was so different from the satin softness of her own. That he was also experiencing that same violent awareness was evident in the smoky heat of his eyes and the pulse now pounding rapidly in the hollow of his throat.
"No," she whispered dazedly, pulling her gaze by force from that telltale throbbing, knowing her rejection was not aimed at him so much as her own treacherous body.
"Oh yes, sweetheart," Rex breathed raggedly. "Definitely yes!" He drew her slowly and carefully into his arms and she gave a little gasp as the warm hardness of his body seemed to sear through her wet clothing as if it were no barrier at all. She felt his body tremble in response as he pressed her head into the rough thatch of hair on his chest. "We'll have to take it easy, babe." He groaned. "I want you so badly I'm like a kid with his first woman."
She didn't answer, suspended in a sensual euphoria that consisted of the touch of warm, strong muscles and the rough abrasiveness of the springy hair beneath her cheek. His scent surrounded her and she vaguely identified the piney fragrance of soap and the hot musky odor of the aroused male. The combination was wildly erotic and she suddenly had an irresistible desire to indulge one other sense. Her tongue ventured hesitantly to explore the smooth, corded skin and discovered it was faintly salty. The combination of the taste and the tingling sensation on the tip of her tongue at the contact with his hard flesh was breathlessly exciting. She turned her head, rubbing her cheek against his chest like a playful, sensual kitten as her tongue darted out to stroke teasingly at one hard male nipple.
"Lord!" Rex groaned again, and she felt an almost savage satisfaction at the responsive shudder that shook his body. Then she couldn't think at all as his arms tightened with steely urgency around her, and his mouth swooped down to cover hers in a kiss that wooed and coaxed and tantalized until her lips parted with eager invitation to the invasion of his tongue. She could never remember later how long he explored her lips and tongue in an endless number of hot, breathless joinings. She only knew that with every kiss the aching emptiness of her loins intensified and her blood seemed to run molten fire in her veins, bringing every inch of her flesh to sensitized, vibrant life.