“You’re welcome,” was her cool reply.
It had been that way since they left San Francisco. For the week in Ocho Rios, Jamaica, and now on Grand Bahama Island, he had been polite, considerate and detached. They treated each other like strangers who had been brought together to do a professional job, except perhaps with more restraint. Each night, he came to her suite of rooms and went over what he called his shot list for the next day. She checked it against her list of clothes and accessories for each model, making sure that they coincided with what he needed. When th
ey were finished, he would thank her, wish her a goodnight and then leave her alone. They didn’t share meals, coffee breaks or unnecessary conversation.
The vacancy in her heart grew until she feared that soon she would be completely empty. The more constrained the relationship became, the more she knew that she loved him. Had she ever doubted it before, it was an undeniable fact now. What she felt for Erik wasn’t only a longing for sexual fulfillment. She loved the man.
Yet her love for Erik didn’t diminish her love for Seth. What she felt for Seth was real and pure and strong. She loved Seth like a dear brother. He was precious to her; she treasured the love she knew he had for her and Theron.
But she loved Erik more. If Seth had her heart, Erik had her soul. He wasn’t aware of it, though.
Each day, he seemed to move further away from her, yet conversely, her love grew. She loved watching him work. He was competent, demanding as much from his subordinates as he gave himself. He worked endlessly, redoing scenes until he was satisfied that the result was the best that could be done. He had an artist’s drive for perfection.
His body had been burned to a rich copper by the tropical sun in just the few days he had been exposed to it. As his skin tanned darker, his hair bleached lighter. He rarely wore more than a ragged pair of shorts and a T-shirt that had been cut off to cover only his shoulders and the top part of his chest. By midmorning, it had usually been taken off. It was only at dinner that Kathleen saw him dressed in slacks and a sport shirt.
West End Resort on Grand Bahama Island had been chosen for its complete facilities and its fabulous swimming pool. In the evenings, the crew would congregate around the pool to swim, play cards, converse and drink. It was a congenial group. What few men there were had taken full advantage of the most cooperative of the models and had switched bed partners several times. Kathleen thought she knew who Erik’s partner was.
There were no more interruptions that day, and they finished the taping at Harry’s Bar just as storm clouds appeared on the western horizon. It had briefly showered on them nearly each afternoon, but these clouds seemed more ominous. Erik hustled to gather his precious equipment, barely breathing until he had safely packed everything.
The caravan was just pulling into the parking lot of the resort when the storm broke. Everyone grabbed what they could out of the cars and dashed for their rooms. Since Kathleen needed space to work and store the clothing, Erik had arranged for her to have a suite of rooms in a group of single-story buildings away from the main hotel. Luckily, she was able to pull the rented station wagon under a covering over the sidewalk. She unloaded the back of it, only getting the clothes slightly damp from the torrential rains before she was inside. Somehow, though, she managed to get soaked.
Gladly, she made a final last trip to the car and carried the last bundle inside. She’d move the illegally parked car later. She shut the room door, but almost immediately there was a knock on it. Her heart somersaulted when she pulled it open and saw Erik standing on the threshold with dripping clothes and wet, clinging hair.
“Hi,” he said. “Did you get in okay?”
“Yes,” she replied as she moved aside. “Come in.”
He squished his way into her room and she shut the door. “Let me turn the air conditioning off, or you’re going to freeze.” She reached behind him to the wall thermostat.
He felt the brush of her arm against his back. He flinched in reaction. God! When was he going to get over wanting her? Hadn’t this purgatory lasted long enough? Or would it go on for eternity? He watched her as she walked to the table and switched on the lamp to relieve the gloom brought on by the rainfall.
When she faced him again, the sheer sight of her was like an assault. She was wearing a pair of green shorts and a green and white striped T-shirt, sleeveless and V-necked. Didn’t she know that the shirt was damp from the rain and was conforming to her figure like a second skin? Why in the hell had she chosen today to go without a bra? Did she know her legs were better than any of the models’? Her skin was satin and tanned to the color of ripe apricots. She had kicked off her sandals and stood barefoot. Her toenails were painted a delicate coral.
His eyes came back to her face, studiously avoiding her pouting breasts. Her eyelashes must have been rained on, for they were wet and spikey, and outlined the green luminescence of her eyes. Her lips were partially open, and he thought he could hear small, rapid breaths passing in and out of them. It was the most kissable mouth he had ever encountered, and he almost ached with the desire to close the distance between them and weld his starved lips to it.
Why her? Why, out of all the women he had had in his life, was it she who wouldn’t leave his mind? After all that had happened between them, why couldn’t he hate her? She had carried his child and bore him in secret. It was only by a quirk of fate that he’d learned of his son’s existence.
Erik had been deliberately vicious in his verbal attack on her that evening in his house. He had wanted her to suffer, too. His words had intentionally insulted her, her womanhood. She had dealt him a low blow with her lashing comeback. Painful as the truth was to face, Kathleen had been right. It was wrong for them to betray Seth. It was wrong for them to betray Seth. It was wrong, and yet… Could either of them help the attraction that pulled them together like a magnet?
She had been created to love physically, hard and often. What must her life be like with Seth, whom Erik knew she adored? Was that why her eyes were often sad? He knew her natural disposition was to laugh, to tease. Yet she wasn’t the same happy young woman he had met in Arkansas. She was mature, resigned. Had motherhood done that to her? Or was she harboring deep regrets?
However they had each changed, one thing had not. He still wanted her as much as he ever had. His longing for her had changed, though. And that new dimension to it alarmed him. His want had become need. Her approval of him had become tantamount to his peace of mind. Her compliments for his work were far more valuable than the money paid for it. He desired her body, but he wanted her caring, too. Sometimes—often—he longed for the touch of her gentling, comforting hands that soothed Theron. Erik refused to believe he would never know that touch.
She was his. The thought of another man having her enraged him. She was his and so was his son. No one—
“Erik?” she asked tentatively.
He realized then that his face must have shown some of what he was feeling, but he quickly masked it. He wasn’t ever going to show her again how much he cared. He had been made a fool of too many times.
“I came to tell you that I’ve checked with the weather bureau and it looks like we’re in for at least twenty-four hours of this typhoon. I’ve given everyone the day off tomorrow. I was told by a few what they thought of having a rainy day off, but…” he shrugged eloquently and grinned, “I’m the boss.”
“Are things going well? Do you like what you’ve done?”
His eyes sparkled with excitement as they always did when he talked about his work. “Yeah. I started to—” He broke off suddenly. He was about to tell her that he had wanted to call her to his room to watch the tapes he had shot. At the last minute, he had resisted the temptation. He didn’t want to be in the same room with her in the dark and not be able to claim her as his, which brought another question to his mind.
“Have you called home?”
“I called the night before last and everything was fine. I’m going to call again tonight. Theron—” She stopped suddenly.