Part 7 (1/2)

”Do you know how foolish I feel? You're an international celebrity and I didn't recognize you. Obviously, I've had my head up my a.s.s for three years, but you didn't have to keep this from me.” Helen found the kitchen and grabbed her jacket. She turned to Cory. ”I prefer honesty to half-truths.”

”Helen, performing for the Queen was a great gig. It doesn't mean-”

”Last night I marveled at how real you were.” She looked into the eyes that began to pull her under again. Along with her anger, she felt arousal, which left her with two options: either get the h.e.l.l out of the building or begin to remove those sweats that looked adorable on Cory. Helen hoisted her pocketbook over her shoulder. ”I'll find my way out, thank you.”

Pus.h.i.+ng past Cory, she wouldn't look at her. Embarra.s.sed, she wanted first to run hard and then deal with the anger.

”Wait,” Cory said as Helen blindly made her way toward the entrance. ”Let me explain.”

”You have nothing I want to hear.” She closed the door firmly behind her, loud enough that it echoed in the hallway. ”'A musician,'” she said sarcastically and entered the elevator. ”'Known to dabble,'” she mocked. ”All of a sudden I have f.u.c.king n.o.bility on my hands.” She pounded her hand against the back wall of the elevator. ”d.a.m.n it. I never say that word.”

The Carnegie Hall poster, those green eyes. Helen thought she'd probably pa.s.sed the music hall a dozen times while those eyes watched. She remembered the poster now, the way Cory seemed to beckon her. She'd never given those eyes a second thought. That would have been a slap in the face to her devotion to Chelsea.

Helen hurriedly walked the distance to Lincoln Center. She sat at the edge of the fountain and pigeons gathered around her. They cooed and seduced her for a possible meal.

”Don't tell me,” she said to the feathered creatures. ”You're really doves incognito.” She reached toward a bird that had ambled close to her feet. ”Don't be afraid,” she said, and the bird took flight. Helen leaned her elbows on her knees. She buried her face in her hands and tried to justify how she felt.

What are you afraid of?

”She lied to me.”

She didn't. She is a musician.

”She held back. I don't like her ways.”

You like pain?

Helen looked at the granite walkway beneath her feet. ”I'm fine.”

You're a spider web. The dead cling to you.

She looked at the steps across from her. ”How can I trust her?”

She meant no harm. She's been used.

”I won't be her savior.”

You could be her lover.

Helen bit her lip. ”There's plenty of women for her to lure into her life.”

Don't be afraid.

”Of what?”

To admit how lonely you really are.

Helen wanted to cry. Not for half-truths but for the three years she'd lost. Dead time. Safe time. Now this woman had barged in and slammed her life into a tailspin. She spiraled downward, faster and faster. She closed her eyes. Tears spilled from them.

”I am lonely.” She wiped the tears with her palm and breathed a sigh of relief.

Intimacy was a ghost for her. s.e.x had become four minutes of self-gratification on the nights when she had felt emotionally close to Chelsea. And now, this woman, this Cory Chamberlain, had her feeling that another human's touch had no equal.

No equal. She wondered about Cory's b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She could feel their smooth curves warm her cheeks and palms, could feel them pressed against her own b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She laughed at the irony, remembering her inability to structure a proper sentence in Cory's presence and realizing that now she wanted nothing less than to feel all of Cory against all of herself.

”Okay, Townsend, settle yourself.” She took a deep breath and looked around the outside of the performing arts center. ”Now what do I do? Go home and clean something? Oh, I'm getting awfully good at that. The whole place looks like the Ajax white knight moved in.”

Helen cringed and groaned. ”d.a.m.n it. Knighthood is reserved for Englishmen. I know that. I don't even know if the Queen still does it. Of course she does. Maggie Smith, Anthony Hopkins, Paul McCartney.” All wore the modern t.i.tle of Dame or Sir. ”Cory must think I'm an idiot.” Helen pushed herself up from the fountain. ”Well, little birdies, I've my intelligence to prove.”

She made a single phone call before leaving. ”Hi, it's Helen Townsend. Can you have the Princess ready in a few hours?” She looked at her watch. ”Four sounds perfect.”

The return walk to the Dakota afforded her time to pull her emotions together. By the time she reached Cory's door, she felt more comfort with the direction she was about to take. She knocked softly on the apartment door.

”It's open.”

Helen opened the door. ”You don't say that in New York and survive,” she said in warning, and closed the door behind her.

Crouched in front of the aquarium, Cory swung around, lost her balance, and fell to her knees. She blushed, then smiled bashfully. ”I've misplaced my social graces as well. I had a feeling it was you.”

”Proper position for a knight to greet her lady.” She dropped her pocketbook and jacket to the floor. She approached slowly and knelt in front of Cory. Her eyes never strayed from Helen.

”It was a Royal Command Performance.” She took Helen's hand, brushed her lips across the fingers, kissed the tip of her thumb. ”Knighthood is reserved...” Her voice mingled with the soft sounds of a bubbling aquarium.

”I know,” Helen said. ”I came back to...to tell you...” She moved forward and nuzzled Cory's ear. ”You're a tease.” She bit into Cory's neck. ”An attractive, soft, warm, and wonderful tease.” She licked the abused flesh.

”No.” As Cory pulled Helen's mouth close to her own, her eyes searched Helen's. ”This is real.”

Their mouths came together. Cory's tongue slid deeply into her and Helen hungrily captured each stroke. Her hands swiftly traveled over Helen's b.r.e.a.s.t.s, down her sides, and beneath her sweater. Her fingertips painted lightly over Helen's belly while warm lips rained kisses onto Helen's face.

”Come to my bed,” Cory said.

”No.” Helen released Cory's hair from the elastic and gathered it into her hands. She nuzzled the cool thickness, breathed the lilies. ”I want you here. Right here in front of the fish, but not now. Not yet.” She moved away and took a deep breath. ”We're going for a ride.”

Chapter Eight.

”Where are we heading?” Cory asked while they sped along I-684.

”Westchester County Airport.”

”Oh. Is someone waiting for you? If I'd known you had other plans, I would have invited you for another day.”