Turn Back the Dawn Page 8

  She awakened, shaken by the dream, by having been unable to express herself. Yet, as she looked at Ben— slowly awakening, eyes opening and lighting up as they looked into hers—she knew that, as in the dream, she could say nothing; words would be too dangerous, too much a courting of rejection or silence. And she was certain, also, that she saw love in Ben's eyes, felt it in every loving touch, every whispered word of lovemaking. And for now that would have to be enough.

  He sighed against her cheek and smiled. "Sorry," he whispered.

  "For what?"

  He raised a sleepy brow and smiled. "Isn't falling asleep after lovemaking considered a big faux pas these days in women's magazines?"

  She laughed. "Women's magazines? Do I look like a magazine? Quit trying to be perfect. Anyway, they're talking about something different when they write about that —the guy who rolls off you like a log, grunts, turns over, and starts snoring half a second later. You hardly fit into that category."

  He smiled. "I'm glad of that. Did you sleep?"

  She nodded against his shoulder.

  "Nice dreams?" he asked. "Mm," she lied, wishing he hadn't asked. "Can you stay the night?" he murmured, a hand silkily roving over her hips, along a thigh. Kate's body responded quickly to his touch, knowing the pitch of fevered arousal it could bring her to.

  She was instantly awash with desire, possessed by a throbbing inner need that was his and his alone to satisfy.

  "Hm?" he asked, his warm hand asking its own question as it moved to the satin of her inner thighs.

  "I don't know," she whispered breathlessly, teasingly, as she reached out for him.

  His hand caught her wrist and he looked into her eyes with a penetrating gaze of challenge. "Hm? What are you up to, then?"

  With his other hand he grasped the softness between her thighs, making her whisper his name. "You'll stay, then," he rasped. "Yes. Oh, yes."

  He released her hand and she reached out for him, her fingers trailing in hungry exploration from his rippling chest down to his slim hips. They worked downward, needing to stroke those parts of him she loved to look at—his long, muscular thighs, the lean edges of his hips.

  And then she reached for him, wanting to bring him the same melting pleasure he was bringing her.

  "My God, woman," he whispered, trembling under her loving touch, "what you do to me."

  "I want you," she said, her words muffled, fired by the strength of his response to her touch.

  "Come to me again," he urged. "I need you."

  And as he moved on top of her and merged her burning want with his in a powerful thrust of love, she cried out his name with passion.

  He felt like blazing pleasure inside her, stroking rapture that transported her with him to spiraling heights. They climbed together, grasping, urging, whispering, coaxing, fusing, a trembling mixture of exquisite delight and urgency, bliss and arousal. And they flamed in a shimmering coursing ecstasy that lost them both, for a time, to everything but feeling, and then afterward, gently rolling, slowing, winding down, to the deepest of love and wonder at each other.

  "Kate," he whispered, nuzzling his lips against her ear. "You're so beautiful. So wonderful. I—I love you."

  Her heart soared. "I love you, too, Ben," she said, holding him tight. "I love you, too."

  Kate stayed the night, sleeping half the time and making love the other half, and her fears flew out of her heart as she grew to trust Ben more and more deeply, to give of herself more freely each time they embraced.

  She rose in the pale-gray light of dawn, getting dressed n Hen slept. She loved the way the light coming across the East River had awakened her; it was so different from her own dark apartment. And the view from Ben's window— indeed, from the bed—was among the most tranquil she

  had ever seen. The city, the river, and Long Island City beyond were asleep, still and dark against the long rays of the rising sun.

  "You're not leaving," came his voice from behind her.

  She turned and smiled. "I have to. I have an early meeting today."

  He sighed. "But I'll see you at two for our meeting at the agency."

  She nodded. "And I have to talk to you about something that happened."

  He sat up against the bed frame. "What? Tell me now, if it's important."

  She hesitated. The night—and the early morning—had been so wonderful; she didn't want to cloud its rosiness by bringing up business—especially something unpleasant like Dick Dayton.

  "What is it?" he pressed.

  She sighed and went over to the bed and sat at its edge. "Oh, Ben, it's nothing that major. But I hate discussing something like business with you after—after last night."

  He smiled. "We're going to have to sometime," he said, taking her hand. "And it doesn't undo anything, you know."

  She smiled. "I guess you're right." And she told him about her conversation with Dayton and his very strong suggestion that they use his niece for the campaign.

  Ben shook his head when she was finished. "That man is a fool."' he said quietly.

  "He's a fool," Kate said, "but more than that, Ben, he can't be trusted. As far as I'm concerned, that conversation sealed Alexandra's fate. I can't possibly hire her."

  Ben drew his head back. "What?"

  "I'm sorry, Ben. But if Dayton is interfering this much now, imagine what he'll do later. He'll probably dictate the clothes she's going to'wear, for God's sake."

  Ben was expressionless, his voice flat as he said, "So you're going to let a great model go because of an uncle you don't think you can handle."

  Kate's lips tightened. "Maybe I can handle him, Ben. And maybe I can't. The point is that I think it's courting disaster to walk into a situation like that knowing what the possibilities are. There are other models. Other actresses."

  "Dammit, Kate, listen to me. Don't make this mistake. I promise you—when you've been in the business as long as I have, you'll know: you can't expect to find another Alexandra Dayton. Not easily. Don't mess this one up, Kate. Just believe me. This is the type of situation you'll have to learn to deal with, that's all."

  She looked at him, at the amber eyes she couldn't read, the hard set of his mouth. What she had feared was already beginning to happen: the warmth, the love that had touched them both suddenly seemed a memory. "I don't want to talk about it anymore," she said, turning away.

  "Why not?" he demanded. "Kate, I want to see you do I he best damned job anyone's ever done on a campaign at Ivorsen and Shaw. And that means you've got to let me help you. And you've got to take some risks you might be afraid to take."

  "Why do you assume I'm afraid, Ben? Why don't you see it as reasonable caution?" She sighed. "Anyway, I just—I'm not sure how to say this." His eyes gave her no encouragement, but she went on. "I—it makes me uncomfortable to hear you talk in such a controlling way about me. In any other area, maybe I wouldn't mind. But with my work—with our work—it makes me feel as if you're trying to mold me into something—to make me into something I'm not."

  "I'm trying to make you as good as you can be."

  "Then let me make my own mistakes," she said. "And learn that way."

  He shook his head with a certainty that surprised her. "I can't do that," he said. "You have to trust me, Kate. That's all I can say."

  They batted the issue of Alexandra Dayton around for the next half hour—with Kate resisting, Ben pushing calmly but logically. And Kate finally agreed: it did make more sense to hire Alexandra Dayton and prepare to deal with difficulties with her uncle than to lose her altogether. And Kate did feel—whatever Ben thought—that she was strong enough to handle Dick Dayton.

  Later in the day, when Kate saw Ben at his office for the second round of auditions, she didn't feel any of the controlling dominance she had minded earlier. The audition went well, too—exceptionally well, according to Ben and Andrew Coates—and afterward, in a meeting, they all agreed that Alexandra Dayton would be the new I and S woman, and a young man who had just auditio
ned, Pierce Allen, would be the new I and S man. Pierce was a perfect. complement to Alexandra, with thick, dark hair, pale blue eyes, fine, small features, and a tall, lean frame. He was twenty-five to her twenty-one, and though he was, in a sense, more classically good-looking than she, he was her perfect partner; together, they were sure to catch everyone's attention. And the two had a wonderful rapport together, both in the audition and afterward on videotape. Kate was thrilled.

  Over the next few days Ben's team of copywriters worked around the clock honing and polishing the copy for the upcoming print ads and the scripts for the upcoming TV and radio ads. Kate met daily with Ben, Alexandra, and Pierce at the Blake-Canfield offices, and she spent every afternoon with Alexandra and Pierce as well, planning their wardrobes, accessories, and sets with Blake- Canfield's stylist.

  During this time Kate tried to keep her mind on her work and off her relationship with Ben. He was just as affectionate as before, and certainly demonstrative, even in the office: giving her quick kisses when they were alone, looking at her with eyes clearly full of desire and need. Yet, at the end of each morning session, as Kate was getting ready to return to Ivorsen and Shaw, Ben never made any specific overture. He would say only that he would see her the next day and set the time for the appointment.

  At first Kate took his words at face value; he was, after all, definitely still romantic, still assuming they would be together soon. But then she began to wonder; perhaps he was trying to ease out of the relationship, letting it slip away as if it had never existed.

  And she was suddenly frightened, with a swiftness that came from having lived through this so many times before. He had said he loved her; she had said she loved him. He had told her of his desire for a serious relationship. And of the way he eased out of relationships with no potential. And perhaps, she thought, he was easing out of this one.

  Finally, on the day the shooting of the first print ads was scheduled to begin, Kate knew she would have to speak with Ben about her concerns. She simply couldn't go on any longer, not knowing, not saying anything. Breaking up with Kurt had been her first step on a path of what she had hoped would be a new course of maturity: not standing for nonsense, not falling for lines, not lying down for any kind of emotional game-playing. And if she was going to stick to her resolves, it was definitely time to act. But she found, when Ben arrived at I and S that evening for the shooting, that there was no time to talk. Naturally, the place was in chaos, with the furniture department, where the shooting was to take place, resembling a movie set more than a store.

  When Ben had first arrived, he had spoken briefly to Kate about the shooting, but he was now off talking with his stylist and art director. And Kate, in any case, had other problems to worry about for the moment: Alexandra Dayton had been shaky and nervous all afternoon; Dick Dayton, who had been remarkably quiet since Alexandra had been hired, was now eating antacids by the handful and almost constantly haranguing Kate; and Kurt, on the scene in his capacity as I and S acting art director, was bothering Kate by his presence alone.

  As the time for the shooting drew near, Kate went over to help the stylist get Alexandra and Pierce ready for the first ad. Set in a large room, empty except for a giant brass bed and a one-of-a-kind antique brass lamp, the ad was designed to show stark but utter luxury. Alexandra would be dressed in a peach-satin teddy and Pierce in black silk pajama-bottoms. Each would be half-covered by an an tique patchwork quilt that would be draped on the bed in various strategic positions.

  Panic broke loose when Kate discovered that the peach teddy hardly showed in the test Polaroids, making Alex

  andra look very close to nude. But the peach teddy was exchanged for a black one—"much sexier anyway," Ben said, eliciting a dark look from Kate—and the shooting finally began.

  Kate loved the concept of the ad. It was going to be a full page, run in all the major newspapers, and as Kate watched the shooting, she could just feel it would be a success. The photographer, a young, graceful man dressed all in black, had Alexandra and Pierce try all variations of expression and movement. Alexandra managed to swing through a whole spectrum of moods—at one moment kitten-cuddly, at the next sleek and seductive, all answers to Pierce's different poses and expressions. Finally, the shooting for the first ad ended.

  Shooting on the second one, set in the store's luxurious lingerie department, went a bit more smoothly. The ad was one of Kate's favorites, with Pierce looking at Alexandra—dressed in the black teddy from the first ad—holding a handful of lingerie and posing very suggestively.

  Alexandra was once again uninhibited about the shot. She was a different animal in front of the lens of a camera, as confident there as she was shy on her own. Dick Day- ion, on the other hand, nearly had to be restrained when he saw what his niece was wearing. Kate, silently telling herself she had known this would happen—and giving lien a look that said, "I told you so"—went over to Dayton and quietly but firmly calmed him down. With the very clear suggestion ringing in his ears that he was actually interfering with his niece's potential future success, he retreated into the back of the crowd, and finally the lingerie shots were completed.

  I he rest—in the sporting-goods, men's-wear, and re-

  sort-wear departments—went quickly. After more than three hours of shooting, the crew and cast were getting a bit punchy—laughing at the slightest mistake, collapsing into helpless giggling fits every few minutes; but just as Kate was beginning to worry, Ben leaned over to her and whispered, "Beautiful. We couldn't have asked for better." And Kate realized he was right: the happiness and sheer delight that shone from both Alexandra's and Pierce's eyes would do more for the ads than anything else the agency could possibly have come up with.

  And then, finally, the shooting was over. Makeup, props, clothes, were packed up, cameras and backdrops rolled away, lights removed.

  Alexandra, looking dazed and happy, came over to Kate and thanked her, and was joined moments later by her uncle. "I think we can all agree that everyone did a wonderful job," he said, putting his arms around Alexandra and Kate. "Just wonderful."

  Kate forced a smile, but was saved from further pretense when Alexandra suddenly excused herself and went running off toward the elevator. The sight distracted both Kate and Dayton, who watched silently as Alexandra stopped Kurt with a gentle hand on his elbow. Kate saw a smile on Kurt's face—a slow, familiar-looking smile she recognized as the one he used when recognizing that he had been "chosen" again.

  Kate turned back to Dick Dayton, still at her side, and was surprised—and taken aback—to see the look of fury in his eyes as he watched his niece talking with Kurt.

  Then he turned to Kate. "What do you know about that Kurt Reeves?" he demanded.

  "He's a very good art director," she said truthfully.

  "What else?" he barked.

  "What is it that you want to know?" she asked calmly.

  He looked at her for a moment, and then sighed. "Never mind," he muttered. "I'll find out for myself." And he stalked off in the direction of Alexandra and Kurt.

  A moment later Ben was at Kate's side. She smiled up at him. "You just missed an interesting little exchange," she said. "It seems Dick Dayton has a new object of suspicion and mistrust."

  Ben looked over at Dayton. "Kurt?"

  Kate nodded. "Who seems to have found a new object as well."

  Ben raised a brow. "She does seem rather interested, doesn't she?"

  "Well, he knows how to use his not inconsiderable charm when he has to." She paused. "Do you think he's good-looking, Ben?"

  Ben smiled. "A loaded question if I ever heard one." He looked over at Kurt, and Kate followed his gaze. "Yes, I'd have to say he was—except there's something very . . very manipulative in his manner. I don't think Stan, our AD, is too happy about working with him."

  "Well, who knows? Maybe he'll be on his best behavior now that he's set his sights on our new Miss I and S. I recognize all the signs."

  Ben gave her an odd, unre
adable look. "Jealous?"

  "No, of course not!" She looked into his eyes, trying to fathom his thoughts, wondering if now was the right time to talk. They were alone except for a few crew members packing up. Dayton, Alexandra, and Kurt had gone off, und the area was quiet, calm once again.

  "But I do have to talk to you," she said quietly.

  He frowned. "What's the matter? You look upset."

  "Well, I don't know," she said tentatively, wondering whether she hadn't in fact been overanalyzing. But she had to tell him how she felt. "It's just that I'm not quite sure what's going on with us. We've both been so busy that—I'm just not sure where we're heading."

  "I have been busy," he said. "I've been on the verge of neglecting my other clients, Kate. But to tell you the truth, I haven't wanted to push anything. It's—if something is right, it will happen on its own."

  So he was uncertain, then. Hesitant and uncertain. "I see," she said quietly.

  "Do you?" he asked.

  "I think so," she said hollowly, forcing out the words. "And I suppose you're right, really, when you think about it. Well," she said, "it's late, and I'm tired, so I guess I'll be getting home."