Double Standards

After hanging up Lauren crossed the study and partially opened the door, pausing at the sound of a cheery female voice raised in greeting at the end of the hall. "Bebe, darling, you look marvelous; it's been ages since I've seen you. Did you know Nick Sinclair is supposed to be here this weekend?"

"He's here," Bebe answered. "I've already spoken to him."

"Thank heavens he came!" The other woman laughed. "Carlton dragged me here from a divine beach in Bermuda because he wants to talk to Nick about some business deal."

"Carlton will have to wait his turn," Bebe replied indifferently. "Nick is the reason Alex and I are here too. Alex wants to talk to him about building a chain of international hotels. He's been trying to call Nick from Rome for two weeks, but Nick hadn't returned the calls, so we flew here yesterday."

"I didn't see Ericka out there," the other woman said.

"You didn't see her because Nick didn't bring her—but just wait until you see what he brought instead." The derisive laughter in Bebe's cultured voice made Lauren stiffen, even before she added, "You won't believe it! She's about eighteen years old and straight off a farm in Missouri. Before Nick could leave her alone for an hour, he had to ask her if she would be all right by herself…" The voices faded as the two women moved away.

Bebe's verbal attack stunned and irritated Lauren, but she calmly pulled open the door and stepped out into the hall.

Seated at Tracy's dressing table an hour later, Lauren brushed her heavy hair until the burnished honey and gold strands framed her face and tumbled in glorious waves over her shoulders. Then she hastily applied a rosy blusher to her high cheekbones, smoothed the matching gloss over her lips and tossed the cosmetics into her purse.

By now Nick was surely down at the pool waiting for her. The thought brought a glow of sheer happiness to her turquoise eyes as she leaned closer to the mirror and carefully put on the treasured 14-karat gold earrings that had belonged to her mother.

When she finished, she stepped back to study the effect of the long, sophisticated cream jersey dress that had arrived from Nick while she was taking a bath. The soft fabric emphasized her high full breasts, and the long tight sleeves hugged her arms all the way to the wrists, where they ended in points at the backs of her hands. The gold link belt nipped in the slightly blousy waistline, so that every feminine curve Lauren possessed was beguilingly displayed, from the top of the straight neckline to the hem of the slightly full skirt where the dainty gold sandals Tracy had lent her peeped out.

"Perfect!" Tracy grinned. "Turn around so I can see the back."

Lauren obediently complied.

"How can anything that looks so demure from the front be so smashing from the back?" her hostess asked, looking at the way Lauren's trim back with its golden summer tan was exposed almost to the waistline. "Well, shall we go down?"

As the two of them walked along the balcony, Lauren could hear the sounds of the poolside revelry below floating in through the open windows. Dozens of laughing female voices blended with the deeper murmurings of males, then mingled chaotically with upbeat orchestra music.

Five seconds after they walked outdoors onto the patio, Tracy was surrounded and whisked away by a group of her friends, leaving Lauren standing alone. She craned her neck, scanning the crowd for a glimpse of Nick. She took two steps forward and immediately saw him standing amid a large group of people at the far end of the pool.

Keeping her eyes on his tall form, Lauren carefully wended her way around the obstacles of guests, waiters, torches, umbrella tables and pool. When she was closer, she could see that Nick was standing with people who were speaking animatedly to him. With his head tipped toward them, he appeared to be listening with rapt attention, yet periodically his gaze would flicker up and slide over the crowd, as if he was looking for someone.

He was looking for her, Lauren realized with an inner glow. As if he sensed her nearness, he lifted his head sharply, and his eyes met hers across the knots of humanity. With an abruptness that bordered on discourtesy, he nodded to the people who were talking to him and without a word simply strolled out of their midst.

When the last group on the patio parted to let him through, Lauren had her first full-length view of him, and her breath caught. His raven black tuxedo fit his tall, splendid frame as if it had been made specifically for him by the finest tailor. The dazzling whiteness of his frilled shirt contrasted beautifully with his bronzed face and formal black bow tie, and he wore the elegant attire with the easy assurance of a man who was thoroughly accustomed to it. Lauren felt absurdly proud of him, and she made no attempt to hide it when he finally stood in front of her. "Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?" she asked softly.

A slow boyish smile spread across his features. "What would you think if I told you no?"

Lauren laughed. "I'd think you were trying to appear modest."

"Then what am I supposed to do now?" he teased.

"I suppose you should try to look a little flustered and embarrassed by the flattery."

"I don't fluster or embarrass very easily."

"In that case, you could try to fluster me by telling me how I look," she hinted broadly. Turning slowly so that she wouldn't draw the attention of the other guests, she deliberately gave him the full shock effect of her dress. Flaring torchlight danced off the burnished honey of her hair as she completed her turn and waited while Nick's gaze moved over her glowing face, luminous blue eyes and softly full lips, then swept downward over the lush outlines of her figure.

"Well?" she teased in turn. "What do you think?"

The gray eyes that finally lifted to hers were flaming, but instead of answering, he flicked his burning gaze down her length again. He hesitated, and then said abruptly, "I think that the dress fits you perfectly."

Lauren burst out laughing. "Don't ever let anyone tell you that you have a way with flattery, because you don't."

"Is that right?" he mocked, his eyes challenging. "In that case, I'll tell you exactly what I think: I think that you're exquisitely lovely, and that you have the fascinating ability to look like an extremely sexy, sophisticated young woman and an utterly angelic girl at one and the same time. And I wish to hell that we weren't trapped here with a hundred other people for the next few hours, because whenever I look at you I become… uncomfortably eager… to find out how you're going to feel in my arms tonight."

Lauren's fair complexion bloomed with color. She wasn't that angelic, and she understood what he meant by the phrase "uncomfortably eager." Her gaze slid away from his mocking gray eyes, and she looked at the guests, at the yachts lit up like brilliant white Christmas trees—at anything except Nick's tall, hard body. Why had he been so blunt? Maybe he suspected that she'd never slept with anyone before, and he was deliberately trying to panic her into admitting it. Would it even matter to him that she was a virgin?

Judging by his frank attitude toward sex; there probably wasn't anything he hadn't done or didn't know. Where women were concerned, she doubted if there was a single fiber of innocence left in Nick's entire aggressively virile body. Even so, Lauren had the feeling that he wouldn't want to seduce and bed a virgin. Of course, this particular virgin wanted very much to be "seduced" by him, but not quite so soon, and not with so little effort on his part, either. She should make him wait until he genuinely cared for her. She should, but she wasn't certain she was going to do it.

Firmly, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger, Nick turned her face up to his, forcing her to look into his teasing gray eyes. "If I'm so beautiful, why won't you look at me?"

"That was a silly thing for me to tell you," Lauren apologized with quiet dignity, "and…"

"It was definitely a gross exaggeration—" he smiled, taking his hand away from her chin "—but I liked it. And, in case you're interested," he added, his voice turning husky, "no one has ever told me that before." He glanced up as someone called his name, then pretended he hadn't heard. Putting his hand beneath her elbow he steer

ed her toward the striped tent on the lawn, where waiters were serving hot and cold hors d'oeuvres. "Let's get something for you to eat and drink."

In the ensuing five minutes, six other people called his name. The next time it happened he said irritably, "As much as I'd like to spend the evening alone with you, we're going to have to socialize. I can't keep pretending I'm blind and deaf much longer."

"I understand," Lauren said sympathetically. "They're very rich and very spoiled, and because you work for them they think they own you."

His dark brows drew together in surprise. "What makes you think I work for them?"

"I accidentally overheard Bebe Leonardos tell someone that her husband came here from Rome because he wants to talk to you about building international hotels. And the other woman said that her husband, whose name is Carlton, is here to talk to you about some kind of business too."

Nick threw an annoyed look over the entire crowd, as if each person there constituted a personal threat to his peace. "I came up here because I've been working myself into the ground for two months, and I wanted to relax for a weekend," he said angrily.

"If you really don't want to talk to anyone about business, there's no reason why you have to do it."

"When people have come thousands of miles to talk to you, they can be damned persistent," he responded, glancing at the other guests again. "And unless I miss my guess, there are at least four other men who have come here to do exactly that."