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Authors: Jeanne Stephens
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wanted to or not. How had she allowed herself to be put on the defensive with him? What had come over her in the car when his touch and his kiss had, for that short intense period of time, been the only realities in her world? Why had she felt as if she'd been kicked in the stomach when he dumped her in the lobby and ran into Margarite Lopez's arms?
She strove for objectivity. Being alone in a foreign country, where she did not speak the language, was enough to make a woman susceptible to the first attractive man who came along—especially if she admired his work and wanted to keep the assignment as his photographer.
When the assignment was completed, everything would look different. Derek Storm would be just another conceited writer, she would have added a considerable feather to her professional cap, and new and exciting assignments would be awaiting her attention. Whatever Derek Storm thought he could accomplish during the next three weeks,
she
would use them to further her career. Only an idiot would throw away a chance like this, and that was why she was still here.
When there was time off, she would spend it with the attentive Jack Ledbetter. Jack. Terri flopped over on her back and stretched lazily. Now there was a man who would know how to treat a woman—gently and deferentially and lovingly. Oh, yes, she had recognized that admiring gleam in his blue eyes when he looked at her. Yet she was certain Jack would never force his attentions on a woman, unlike someone else she could name.
She closed her eyes and had begun to relax when the telephone rang. Terri reached for the receiver and brought it to her ear.
"I'm sorry our afternoon outing had to be canceled." Jack sounded tired, too.
"Never mind. Your boss dragged me all the way to Teotihuacán, so I wasn't left twiddling my thumbs."
"Then you're not mad?" He sounded relieved.
"Of course not, silly. I know when the oracle speaks you have to obey." Her tone was sympathetic.
"Then how about going out tonight? I met someone today who told me about a terrific guitarist who's playing at one of the hotels."
Terri closed her eyes, wishing only to crawl under the covers of her bed and go to sleep. "Will Mike be going with us?"
"He has other plans." There was a suggestive note in the words. Was he hinting that he'd told Mike to make other plans?
Terri brushed the question aside. It might be fun to do the town with Jack. "Give me an hour to get ready."
"Fine." He sounded cheerful, no longer tired. "I'll pick you up at eight thirty."
"All right. See you then."
As Terri ran her bathwater, she experienced a moment of uncertainty. What had Derek meant when he called Jack a ladies' man? She wasn't up to fighting off another octopus tonight.
Oh, she was making too much of the remark. Derek probably couldn't stand the idea that any woman might prefer Jack to him. It was sour grapes, that's all. If things got sticky, she could manage to keep Jack at arm's length. He was too considerate to get ugly about something like that.
She added bubble bath, undressed, and stretched out in the warm water. Sighing contentedly, she tried to picture the blond, handsome Jack as a chivalrous knight, kissing her hand, holding her on the dance floor as if he thought she were fragile china, depositing her back at her room with a chaste kiss.
But another face kept intruding rudely into her daydream. A dark, stern face with thick brows that could lower and come together in fierce disapproval— deep, liquid-brown eyes that could caress or send out fiery darts. Terri moved sensuously in the warm bath, feeling Derek's hands moving over her again, and her lips burned with remembered kisses. She closed her eyes and smiled softly at the lovely glow that had come into her body at the memory. A wickedly enticing image flashed into her mind—an image of Derek sharing the bubble bath with her. She almost wished he were there, their bodies touching, his hands doing what they could do so well.
No,
She strove for objectivity. Being alone in a foreign country, where she did not speak the language, was enough to make a woman susceptible to the first attractive man who came along—especially if she admired his work and wanted to keep the assignment as his photographer.
When the assignment was completed, everything would look different. Derek Storm would be just another conceited writer, she would have added a considerable feather to her professional cap, and new and exciting assignments would be awaiting her attention. Whatever Derek Storm thought he could accomplish during the next three weeks,
she
would use them to further her career. Only an idiot would throw away a chance like this, and that was why she was still here.
When there was time off, she would spend it with the attentive Jack Ledbetter. Jack. Terri flopped over on her back and stretched lazily. Now there was a man who would know how to treat a woman—gently and deferentially and lovingly. Oh, yes, she had recognized that admiring gleam in his blue eyes when he looked at her. Yet she was certain Jack would never force his attentions on a woman, unlike someone else she could name.
She closed her eyes and had begun to relax when the telephone rang. Terri reached for the receiver and brought it to her ear.
"I'm sorry our afternoon outing had to be canceled." Jack sounded tired, too.
"Never mind. Your boss dragged me all the way to Teotihuacán, so I wasn't left twiddling my thumbs."
"Then you're not mad?" He sounded relieved.
"Of course not, silly. I know when the oracle speaks you have to obey." Her tone was sympathetic.
"Then how about going out tonight? I met someone today who told me about a terrific guitarist who's playing at one of the hotels."
Terri closed her eyes, wishing only to crawl under the covers of her bed and go to sleep. "Will Mike be going with us?"
"He has other plans." There was a suggestive note in the words. Was he hinting that he'd told Mike to make other plans?
Terri brushed the question aside. It might be fun to do the town with Jack. "Give me an hour to get ready."
"Fine." He sounded cheerful, no longer tired. "I'll pick you up at eight thirty."
"All right. See you then."
As Terri ran her bathwater, she experienced a moment of uncertainty. What had Derek meant when he called Jack a ladies' man? She wasn't up to fighting off another octopus tonight.
Oh, she was making too much of the remark. Derek probably couldn't stand the idea that any woman might prefer Jack to him. It was sour grapes, that's all. If things got sticky, she could manage to keep Jack at arm's length. He was too considerate to get ugly about something like that.
She added bubble bath, undressed, and stretched out in the warm water. Sighing contentedly, she tried to picture the blond, handsome Jack as a chivalrous knight, kissing her hand, holding her on the dance floor as if he thought she were fragile china, depositing her back at her room with a chaste kiss.
But another face kept intruding rudely into her daydream. A dark, stern face with thick brows that could lower and come together in fierce disapproval— deep, liquid-brown eyes that could caress or send out fiery darts. Terri moved sensuously in the warm bath, feeling Derek's hands moving over her again, and her lips burned with remembered kisses. She closed her eyes and smiled softly at the lovely glow that had come into her body at the memory. A wickedly enticing image flashed into her mind—an image of Derek sharing the bubble bath with her. She almost wished he were there, their bodies touching, his hands doing what they could do so well.
No,
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