"Roberts, Nora - Stanislaski 08 - Dance of Dreams" - читать интересную книгу автора (Roberts Nora)

kiss. "Mmm, you smell wonderful."
Her laugh was smothered by his lips. The kiss grew long, deeper than the casual
greeting Ruth had intended. Yet she allowed the intimacy, encouraging it with
her own seeking tongue. She wanted to feel, to experience more than the warm
pleasure she was accustomed to. She wanted the excitement, the tingling touch of
fear she had felt only that afternoon in another man's arms. But when it was
over, her heartbeat was steady, her blood cool.
"Now that," Donald murmured and nuzzled her neck, "is the way to say hello."
Ruth stayed in his arms a moment, enjoying his solidarity, the unspoken offer of
protection. Then, pulling away, she smiled into his eyes. "It's also a way of
saying it's nice to see you, but what are you doing here?"
"Taking you out," he said and swung her further into the room. "Go put on your
prettiest dress," he ordered, giving her cheek a brief caress. "One of mine, of
course. We're going to a party."
Ruth pushed her still-damp hair away from her face. "A party?"
"HmmЧyes." Donald glanced at Nijinsky, who lay sprawled in sleep on Ruth's
small, glass-topped dinette table. "A party at Germaine Jones's," he continued
as he and the cat ignored each other. "You remember, the designer who's pushing
her short, patterned skirts and knee socks."
"Yes, I remember." Ruth had the quick impression of a short, pixielike redhead
with sharp green eyes and thick, mink lashes. "I wish you'd called first."
"I didЧor tried to," he put in. "It's a spur-of-the-moment thing, but I did
phone the rehearsal hall. I missed you there and you hadn't gotten home yet" He
shrugged away the oversight as he drew out his slim, gold cigarette case.
"Germaine's throwing the party together at the last minute, but a lot of
important people will show. She's hot this season." Donald slipped the case back
into the inside pocket of his smartly tailored slate-colored suit jacket, then
flicked on his lighter.
"I can't make it tonight."
Lifting a brow, Donald blew out a stream of smoke. "Why not?" He took in her wet
hair and thin robe. "You don't have plans, do you?"
Ruth was tempted to contradict him. He was beginning to take too much for
granted. "Is that such a remote possibility, Donald?" she asked, masking her
annoyance with a smile.
"Of course not." He grinned disarmingly. "But somehow I don't think you do. Now
be a good girl and slip into that red slinky number. Germaine's bound to have on
one of her famous ensembles. You'll make her look like a misplaced cheerleader."
She studied him a moment, with her dark eyes thoughtful. "You're not always
land, are you, Donald?"
"It's not a kind business, darling." He shrugged an elegant shoulder.
Ruth bit back a sigh. She knew he was fond of her and undeniably attracted, but
she wondered if he would be quite so fond or so attracted if he didn't consider
her to be an asset when she wore one of his designs. "I'm sorry, Donald, I'm
just not up to a party tonight."
"Oh, come on, Ruth." He tapped his cigarette in the ashtray, his first sign of
impatience. "All you have to do is look beautiful and speak to a few of the
right people."
Ruth banked down on a rising surge of irritation. She knew Donald had never
understood the demands and rigors of her profession.
"Donald," she began patiently. "I've been working since eight this morning. I'm