Somewhere I'll Find You (Capital Theatre #1)(42)

Thoroughly perplexed, Arlyss shook her head. “But who?”

Julia stared at her meaningfully. “What gentleman do we know who can paint like this?”

“No one around here, except for…” Arlyss sputtered with an incredulous laugh. “Don't tell me this is from Mr. Fiske? Oh, dear…he's not at all the kind of man I usually take an interest in.”

“That's true. He's honest, hardworking, and respectful—completely unlike the debauched men you've been complaining about for so long.”

“At least they're able to provide for me.”

“What do they provide?” Julia asked softly. “A few gifts? A night or two of passion? And then they disappear.”

“I just haven't found the right one yet.”

“Perhaps you have now.”

“But, Jessica, a scene painter…”

Julia stared into her friend's sea-green eyes. “Be kind to him, Arlyss—I believe he truly cares for you.”

The petite actress frowned uncomfortably. “I'll thank him nicely for the portrait.”

“Yes, talk to him,” Julia urged. “You may discover that you like him. Judging by his work, he's a man of depth—and he is rather good-looking.”

“I suppose,” Arlyss said thoughtfully. She gave the portrait a lingering glance and handed it to Julia. “I mustn't keep Mr. Scott waiting. Would you be a dear and put this in my dressing room?”

“Certainly.” Julia crossed her fingers as Arlyss walked away. An ironic smile spread across her face. She had thought herself to be worldly, even cynical, but there was a part of her that was still irrepressibly romantic. She hoped Arlyss would find love with someone who would appreciate her, no matter what her faults, no matter what her mistakes in the past. Wryly Julia acknowledged that it would make her feel better to know that even if her own situation was miserable, at least someone else could be happy in love.

Pauline looked up from the mountain of packages on the carpeted floor of her mauve and gold bedroom. She was a fetching sight, surrounded by frothy piles of ribbon and tissue, her dark hair falling in sensuous disarray over her bare shoulders. Her lips parted with an inviting smile as Damon entered the room.

“You're just in time to see my new purchases,” she informed him. “I had a delightful shopping expedition this morning.” She stood and held a garment up to her br**sts, a sheath resembling a thin, spidery web of gold. “Look, darling…it's meant to be worn over another gown, as an adornment, but when we're in private I'll wear it just like this.”

Gracefully she pulled it over her head and let the glittering woven fabric slip over her body, at the same time allowing the gown underneath to fall away. The web of gold enhanced the rounded beauty of her body, doing nothing to conceal the dark triangle between her thighs or the rose-brown points of her erect ni**les. Excitement shone in her velvety eyes, and she licked her lips as she approached him slowly.

“Make love to me,” she murmured. “It seems forever since you've touched me.”

Damon stared at Pauline without expression, finding it difficult to believe that he could be unmoved by a woman he had once found so arousing. “I didn't come here for that,” he said, keeping,his arms at his sides even as she purred and rubbed against him. “I want to talk.”

“Yes…afterward.” She caught his hand and tried to bring it to her breast.

Scowling, Damon pulled away. “I want to know the name of your doctor. The one who confirmed your pregnancy.”

The sexual interest faded from Pauline's face, replaced by a defensive, perturbed expression. “Why?”

Damon gave her an unyielding stare. “What's his name?”

Pauline went to the bed, draping herself across the thick brocade coverlet. With catlike languor, she traced a pattern on the fabric with a single fingertip. “Dr. Chambers. He's a very old, trusted physician who has attended my family for years.”

“I want to meet him.”

“It's sweet of you to take an interest, darling, but there's no need—”

“Will you make the arrangements, or shall I?”

A blush swept over Pauline's skin, whether from guilt or anger he couldn't tell. “You sound so accusing. Don't you believe I'm telling the truth about the baby?”

“I believe this ‘accidental’ pregnancy has been damned convenient for you,” he said curtly. “And I think it's time we stopped playing games.”

“I've never played games with you—”

“Haven't you?” he interrupted with a jeering smile.

Abandoning her kittenish posture, Pauline sat upright. “I refuse to discuss anything with you when you're so cross!”

He stared at her coldly. “I want you to arrange for me to see Dr. Chambers.”

“You can't order him about like a servant—or me either, for that matter.”

“I believe I've paid for the privilege.”

Making an enraged sound, Pauline threw a gold-embroidered cushion at him. It landed on the floor near his feet. “You needn't act so superior. It wasn't my fault that you made me pregnant, or that you're saddled with a wife you can't seem to locate. Have you made any progress on that score?”