"No, I will not take the necklace," she said firmly.
"Oh, all right," he grumbled. "You're certainly a stubborn wench."
His toying hand suddenly gave the towel a tug that brought it slipping to her waist, baring her breasts. Tamara gave a cry of surprise. She felt his upper body rise and then looked down to watch him nip at her pink nipple.
"I guess you've noticed that I'm a breast man." Rex chuckled mischievously, and quickly suckled at one breast, while toying with the other nipple until it was a hard button beneath his fingers. She moaned, a little breathless.
His voice was hoarse and shaking as his lips left her breast and he muttered, "I'm suddenly feeling much stronger, sweetheart."
Tamara looked down into his face, which was tautened into a beautiful sensuality. He rested on his elbow. She drew a shuddering breath and, grabbing her towel, stood up. "You'll feel even better after I apply this second treatment," she said briskly. "Now roll over!"
He obediently rolled over onto his stomach, but when she pulled the towel up over her breasts again, he protested.
"Don't! I like to look at you."
She was still for a long moment, then dropped the towel and fastened it about her waist. She decided she liked him to look at her, too. She began the gentle massage of his lower back as he continued to study her.
"Not tonight?"
"Not tonight," she answered quietly, dipping her hands into the ointment again and going to work on his shoulders.
"Tamara?"
She looked up inquiringly.
"You're sure, aren't you?" he asked softly. "In three days you'll let me love you?"
She tore her eyes away from the deep intensity of his. "I'm sure."
"In three days well be in Las Vegas," he said thoughtfully, his eyes on her face. "I'm playing the Pagan Room at the Santa Flores, and I don't have a show the evening we arrive there."
Her hands paused an instant in their massage. Despite her acknowledgement of her desire to belong to Rex, his persistence caused her a moment of panic. Then her hands resumed their gentle kneading motion.
"In Las Vegas," she assented slowly. "At the Santa Flores."
Eight
Tamara lazily rolled over on her back, adjusted her sunglasses carefully, and gazed at the exotic landscaping around the Olympic-sized pool. She sighed in contentment. The Santa Flores was a truly beautiful hotel casino, with an islanchmotif and sumptuous air of quiet luxury that was unique in a town like Las Vegas. The penthouse apartment that had been lent to Rex by the hotel's owner was also exceptionally lovely. She was going to like it here, she thought dreamily. But then she would like it anywhere with Rex.
The last three days had passed with lightning rapidity and, despite the mad pace set by Rex and Oliver, she'd thoroughly enjoyed them. She'd found the companionship bred by being on the road was unique and intimate and had even extended to her relationship with Scotty Oliver. If not exactly on cordial terms, they at least had developed a mutual respect which might eventually lead to friendship.
As for Rex, it seemed with the winning of her promise he'd decided he could relax, and the tempo of their relationship eased to a warm, friendly camaraderie. Not that there hadn't been moments that had sparked into near-flame. Their physical chemistry was too strong not to generate its own fireworks. She was conscious that Rex was carefully damping down the blatant sexuality that was a natural facet of his make-up, but she could still detect a virile magnetism that was very disturbing.
There had been many moments when she'd wanted to give in and tell him three days was a lifetime too long to wait. Particularly since her herbal ointment had worked so beautifully that he was almost back to normal by the end of the Houston concert. It wasn't shyness that made her hesitate but caution. They needed the time to probe each other's minds and personalities before entering into a physical commitment she had an idea would eclipse every other facet of their relationship, at least temporarily.
Now she was glad she'd waited. She was sure her love for Rex was based on more than that magical desire he could provoke with only a long, slumbering look from those intense black eyes. The Rex Brody she had come to know in the past few days was a complex combination of tough, aggressive street kid, brilliant creative artist, and witty, cynical man of the world. Add a dash of mischievous little boy and that occasional, irresistible tenderness, and there emerged a man any woman would be proud to love. And love him she certainly did, she thought ruefully. He seemed to encompass everything she wanted in the world now, and she desired that final physical commitment as much as he. Not only for the wild pleasure she was sure he would bring to her, but for the possible bonds that pleasure might forge between them. She had less than a month to make him feel some of the love she felt for him, and she grew terrified at the thought of failure. She shook her head firmly. She wouldn't fail. She would pursue this most important goal with the same perseverance and intelligence she'd demonstrated over the years and she would succeed. Heaven help her, she had to.
Tamara checked her watch and noticed with satisfaction that it was almost five. Rex had asked her to meet him back in the penthouse suite at five, and then left her to go off on some mysterious business of his own. She'd decided to spend the hours until she saw him again at the pool, but it had been a long four hours. She'd grown used to being with him constantly in the past few days and she felt strangely incomplete without him.
She stood up, slipped on a royal purple beach robe over her lavender bikini, and set off eagerly for the penthouse. Using the key Rex had given her, she entered the apartment and tripped through the foyer to the living room.
"Rex," she called, "Are you-"
She stopped in the doorway, feeling as if she'd been kicked in the stomach. The woman in Rex's arms was tiny but voluptuous, with dark hair flowing almost to her waist. Dressed only in a halter top and short shorts, she was embracing Rex with an enthusiastic fervor. But no more enthusiastic than the way Rex was holding her, Tamara noticed miserably.
"Excuse me," she muttered, as the two looked up in surprise at her entrance. She ran blindly to the guest bedroom she'd been allotted, wanting only to get out of sight so she could release this agony. She slammed the door closed only to have it explode open behind her.
"Oh no you don't!" Rex growled. "I'm not having you run in here and sulk, damn it! You're coming back into the living room to meet Jenny."
"I'm quite sure you'd rather be alone with her," Tamara said huskily, not looking at him. "I'm sorry I interrupted you."
Rex ran his fingers through his dark hair distractedly. "Listen, I'm sure as hell not going to risk any misunderstandings today so I'm going to explain very carefully. That lovely person out there is your hostess, Jenny Jason. She and her husband, Steve, are not only my best friends, but I'm godfather to their son, Sean. Now will you come back and act like a civilized human being?"
Sheer relief made Tamara light-headed. "She's just a friend?" she whispered, her violet eyes starry with unshed tears.
"Scout's honor," he said, his own eyes twinkling. "Do you think I'd be crazy enough to risk tonight for a moment's gratification? I've barely been able to hold out for the past three days. It seemed more like three years."
"For me, too," she said, and the glowing radiance in her eyes caused him to catch his breath.
"Don't do that to me, babe," he said huskily. "We've still got a few hours to get through before I can follow up on what those pansy eyes are saying." He drew a deep breath and took her gently by the arm. "Come on and meet Jenny."
Jenny Jason was even lovelier than Tamara had first thought. She had the most magnificent, silver gray eyes Tamara had ever seen, and certainly the – warmest smile. She accepted Tamara's shy apology with a friendly grin and wry grimace. "Actually, I was quite flattered," she said breezily, flopping down into a burgundy velvet armchair. "It's not often an old married woman like me is mistaken for a Femme fatale. It was quite a boost for my ego."