Part 7 (1/2)

A flame burned in those regions of ice. His lip curled back. I could've sworn he was fanged, his face taking on the predatory snarl of a panther, dark and lethal. My body prepared the way for him, weakness about the knees, wetness, nipples insinuating themselves through the black satin of my dress, heart pumping furiously.

”Yes-s-s,” I answered, panting.

”Don't disappoint me.”

He released me. The room kind of s.h.i.+fted sideways, leaving me dizzy and nauseous. ”Oh G.o.d,” I groaned, sinking to the table, holding my head between my hands.

”What is it?”

”Too much wine. Please take me home,” I pleaded.

”Yes, of course.” He helped me to my feet. My high spiked heels wobbled a little, so he took my elbow and steadied me, wrapping his other arm around my bare shoulders. The place was nearly empty, still I was embarra.s.sed, struggling to regain composure and walk out on my own power. Ethan retrieved my wrap and placed it around me, leading me outside. Once the cold air hit, I was better. Ethan hailed a cab and we piled inside.

”Feeling better?”

The abrupt change in character bewildered me. The panther exited and the gracious southern gentleman re-entered, but I sensed the predator waiting in the wings to spring. I turned, hoping to draw the gorgeous animal out again. ”My old self again- tad warm in there.”

He didn't make a move. He just sat there quietly, a mysterious little smile on that beautiful visage. Fully aware of the effect he had on me, yet patiently biding his time. What a tease.

My place was deserted when we got there, so I invited him in. He told me he couldn't stay long. It was late. I'd used that excuse myself before, but this time I was the one hoping for more than a good night kiss, and although I look a lot like her, I'd made it clear I wasn't Snow White.

I switched the lamp on, hanging my wrap carelessly on the back of the chair. Knowing I looked pretty tasty in the black satin, I sashayed over to him. From his lofty height, he smiled benevolently, a G.o.d on a mere mortal, and I approached to make a burnt offering of myself. Pure white Carrera marble, the cool planes of that face. But his chilly appearance was deceiving. As I pressed my body along his length, an inferno rose deep within, contained with exquisite control. Mmmm, he was hard and hot all over all over. I wrapped my arms around and tried to draw the fire into myself, but he touched me as if he were afraid I'd shatter to bits, taking reverential care as he placed his long warm fingers on my shoulders, only one elegant, teasing digit straying to stroke my decolletage.

”I must go back home for a while. I will return in April for you. Get rid of that leech.”

I cried out as his finger teased my nipple. ”Yes-s-s, of course. I can't stand him anymore.”

”A bird of prey requires a master falconer.”

I'll stop at nothing until you're mine.

That ardent promise, which in retrospect, sounded an awful lot like a threat, drained me of resistance. I was pulled in his...o...b..t, a helpless satellite, Callisto to his Jupiter. He picked me up in those arms like a child, small, helpless, utterly trusting, and laid me down on the sofa, kneeling by my side, tongue tracing a moist, warm path from collarbone to ear as he lowered my dress over my shoulders and b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

”Kiss me!”

”A kiss to build a dream on,” he murmured, burying his face in my neck.

A jab of pain, like a pinp.r.i.c.k stabbed into my neck and then oblivion... ”

Joe asked, impatiently, ”So, that's when he did it?”

She shook her head. ”Wouldja let me tell this the way I want?”

FIVE.

”Next morning, I found myself on the sofa still clothed, tingling all over. If we didn't make love, then I must have had the most incredible erotic dream.

Richard called, apologetic, begging me to join him for lunch at his place. He obviously planned on me as the entree and I didn't want to go, but Ethan had ordered me to break it off as soon as possible.

Richard fell to his knees and begged, burying his head in my bosom, his fingers maggots crawling over my flesh. I extracted myself from his arms and left- but he wasn't quite finished with me.

Ethan called from time to time and sent huge bouquets every day to my dressing room, the cards addressed to his ”Bird of Prey.” ”Bird of Prey.” Then, right before Ethan was due back, Richard got his revenge. Then, right before Ethan was due back, Richard got his revenge.

I awakened one morning, a few days before our last performance, very sick. I got up from bed, stomach flipping over, and ran to the bathroom to retch into the toilet. A cold sweat broke out as I sank to the floor, head between my knees. My period was almost two weeks late and I was always like clockwork. Now I had had to call Richard. He agreed to meet me after the show that night. I didn't tell why I wanted to see him. I really hoped I was wrong, but I was very scared. to call Richard. He agreed to meet me after the show that night. I didn't tell why I wanted to see him. I really hoped I was wrong, but I was very scared.

At the theatre, I threw up again in the bathroom. Another actress ran to call the stage manager, a thin, intense, dark-haired man with a cigarette perpetually glued to his lips. The curtain was held for fifteen minutes. When we finally went up, I had difficulty concentrating. It was everything I could do to keep from running off stage to vomit again. I struggled to finish the show. As I sat removing my make-up afterward, there was a knock at my dressing room door.

”Mia, your friend is here,” called the ASM. ”In the green room.”

Ethan! I was overjoyed, until I remembered the new twist in the plot. I had to see him, even if it might be for the last time. Tears welled up, as I ran to the green room. I was overjoyed, until I remembered the new twist in the plot. I had to see him, even if it might be for the last time. Tears welled up, as I ran to the green room.

A vision glittered before me, dressed in impeccable evening clothes. As he held his arms out the floor gave way. He stepped forward to catch me, carrying me to the small beat-up leather sofa against the wall. Laying me down tenderly on it, Ethan felt my pulse and laid his hand against my abdomen. Voices buzzed and someone went to fetch a gla.s.s of water. Ethan waved them all away. ”Leave us,” he growled. Naked despair swam in Ethan's eyes when I looked up at him. ”How long have you been in this condition?”

”A few weeks maybe.”

”Anything I can do to a.s.sist you?”

I cried into his crisp white s.h.i.+rt. ”You promised nothing would keep you from me.”

”Best I let you go now. I'm sorry but I must.” He caressed my hair.

I pulled away and rubbed at my eyes, sniffling. ”I understand. It isn't your responsibility. It's Richard's kid.”

Ethan frowned. ”Have you told him?”

”Not yet.”

He reached into his coat, pulling out a black leather card case. He took out a card. ”You can reach me here should you need a.s.sistance. I deeply regret things didn't work out as we planned. Please- call if you need me.” Kissing my forehead, he rose, leaving me desperate.

Richard met me outside in his car with an amused expression on his face, enjoying my dilemma too much. He wrapped himself around me, exhaling a solution mixed with cigarette smoke into my face. ”Get rid of it.”

My Catholic conscience recoiled in horror. ”It's murder!”

He went on smoking as I stared out the window at the pa.s.sing traffic on the narrow street. ”Fine, go to some home and give it up. You can kiss your career and your southerner goodbye, or you tell him it was a false alarm. I go on living on Katherine's money. Everyone's happy. What you wouldn't do to feed your ambition- a role on Broadway and a rich pretty boy on the side. I'll even pay for it, as long as you promise to keep your big Italian mouth shut.”

I couldn't carry to term the child of a man I hated. No tender maternal instincts for this tiny monster feeding on my blood. I had to be free to join my Ethan. Demons howled at the windows calling me to dance with them. I let them in and opened my arms wide.

I lay there in misery, raw and bleeding afterward. I hated Richard for doing this to me, and how I hated myself. This was punishment for my sins. I was in h.e.l.l. Selena was right again. They took Richard's money and pushed me out the door. Richard walked me to the car and helped me inside. I couldn't lift my legs, slabs of dead meat. He lifted my feet into the car. I must've pa.s.sed out, because next thing I knew we were pulling up outside my building.

The cramps were worse. I couldn't rid myself of the feeling something had gone horribly wrong. He came around to my door and opened it. His eyes were cold gray disks. One of us had successfully distanced himself from the act. He got me to my feet. I stood on the sidewalk, blinking, disoriented. It was late afternoon. That mood of that long-ago Greenwich Village street was relatively serene. Waning spring sun bathed stone buildings in rosy gold light. Branches of still bare trees trembled gently in the breeze. The cerulean sky was dotted with fluffy white pompons of c.u.mulous clouds. At the corner store, buckets of multi-colored blooms burned brilliant as a Van Gogh. I've fixed that moment firmly into my memory. I wish I'd stayed there for just a moment longer.

The climb to my third floor walk-up nearly did me in. Cursing, Richard finally lifted and carried me the rest of the way. Depositing me on my twin bed, he tucked a pillow under my feet and covered me with a blanket. ”Try to sleep.”

I awoke alone in the dark. My head ached horribly with a sound like blood rus.h.i.+ng through it. Warm stickiness ran between my thighs, running and running, soaking the bed linens. Something was was wrong. I tried to sit up. My head swam. Nausea overcame me, the cramping unbearable. Where was Richard, the sonofab.i.t.c.h? I shouldn't have been bleeding this much. It was suddenly, sickeningly evident my womb was gus.h.i.+ng from the spot where the thing we'd made had been ripped. I was bleeding to death. wrong. I tried to sit up. My head swam. Nausea overcame me, the cramping unbearable. Where was Richard, the sonofab.i.t.c.h? I shouldn't have been bleeding this much. It was suddenly, sickeningly evident my womb was gus.h.i.+ng from the spot where the thing we'd made had been ripped. I was bleeding to death.

I struggled to roll over and grab the receiver of phone on the night table next to the bed. With shaking, chilled fingers I dialed Richard's number. It rang for an eternity.