COUNTERPOINT
An original romantic serialFrom Alina Adams the author of "When a Man Loves a Woman" (DELL 4/00), "Annie's Wild Ride" (AVON 8/98), "Inside Figure Skating" (METROBOOKS 11/00 & 9/99), "Thieves at Heart" (AVON 12/95) and "The Fictitious Marquis" (AVON 6/95)
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CHAPTER 12
"Robin, what are you doing?" Victoria twisted in her seat to peer out the Cooper jet window. Below them, San Francisco receded, until all she could make out was the Pacific curling into the Bay.
Robin sat in the beige, leather seat across from her, safety-belt still unfastened, despite directives from the pilot. He wore a green, cashmere sweater and olive slacks which brought out the emerald in his eyes. He linked his fingers, resting his hands on his stomach as he leaned back and, observing Victoria from beneath half-closed lids, asked, "Isn't it obvious? My goodness, I must be losing my touch. My dear Miss Morgan, I am trying to seduce you."
"Why?"
"Why?" That certainly opened his eyes, and quickly. "Well, now, there is an excellent question. I've never been asked that before. I suppose," he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and staring at Victoria so intently, she had no recourse but to meet his gaze. "It's because you're a lovely woman. And that's what I do with all the lovely women I meet." If Robin felt ashamed of his philandering habits, he certainly hid it beautifully.
"And do all lovely women always go along with your agenda?"
"As a matter of fact, yes, they do." He smiled, deepening the cleft in his chin, his grin rising higher on the right side of his face than it did on his left. "I'm quite charming, you know."
She felt awfully glad they were sitting. Robin's smile could melt icebergs, so what chance did her suddenly teetering legs have?
Yet, instead of admitting the effect he had over her, Victoria arranged her face in a semblance of sternness, and ordered, "Well, quit it."
"Why?" Mischief glittered within his hazel eyes. "Because I have no chance for success? Or too good of a one?"
He had a way of planting pictures in Victoria's head without saying anything specific. And not just regular pictures, either. These were the 3-D, every-tactile-sense-included variety. If he could do so much with mere words, Victoria wondered what he might achieve if she allowed Robin to access all of his fabled talents.
Not that she intended to ever find out.
Victoria said, "As long as you're still married, consider your chances for success as somewhere between none, and sub-none."
"Is that all that's bothering you? Nicole? Well, then, this is going to be easier than I thought. Nicole and I are divorcing."
In spite of herself, hope throbbed in Victoria's breast. Yet, she had to keep in mind the sort of man that she was dealing with. "Does Nicole know that?"
Robin laughed. "Very good, Victoria. I see I'm really going to have to stay on my toes around you."
"Well? Does she?"
"She does. I told her right after the Elizabeth Fund Gala."
Victoria's hope mutated into an icicle. "After the Elizab -- Robin, I -- you didn't do it because of me, did you?"
"Oh, no, of course not." Robin considered the matter further. "Well, actually, in a way, yes."
"No," Victoria shook her head, lowering her voice. "I didn't want -- the last thing I wanted was to be responsible for breaking up another woman's marriage."
"It was nothing like that. I assure you." Robin waved away Victoria's worries with one hand. "All you did the other night was remind me of what an absurdity I'd been living the last five years. I never loved Nicole. I barely liked her. And I certainly would never have married her, if I'd been sober at the time."
"But, your daughter...."
"Eve is my daughter, yes. I have mountains of blood tests to prove it. And I intend to provide for her. But, that doesn't mean I have to be chained to her mother. Nicole and I have been married for five years, and, in that time, I don't think we've lived under the same roof for more than three months at a stretch. You are not a home-wrecker, Victoria. There is no home to wreck, here."
She smiled weakly. "Still, Robin, I -- "
"What, love?"
"I don't want to be another scratch on your bedside table. I know you probably think this is old-fashioned or provincial of me, but, it doesn't matter how attracted I am to a man or how charming he is -- and you are charming, Robin, I'll grant you that. Still, I can't just jump into bed with a person I don't feel... close to."
His brows furrowed in genuine confusion. "I thought you liked me, Victoria."
"I do like you." She struggled to elucidate, feeling like an anthropologist attempting to illuminate a foreign culture. "But, I've also heard things about you. You've got quite a reputation when it comes to women."
"Oh, God," Robin said. "You've been talking to my father."
"Well, actually, Gabriel has been."
"Even better."
"Was your father lying, Robin?"
He sighed. "The great Douglas Cooper is too morally upright to ever lie. Even to protect his only son."
"Well, then, you have to respect where I'm coming from. I'm not a big fan of one-night stands with married men. And right now, as far as I'm concerned, that's all you're offering me."
"It'll be a hell of a night, I can promise you that."
She smiled. She couldn't help it. He was the most guileless, sincere rake she'd ever met. "I have no doubt about that."
"But, you're still declining my offer?"
"I am."
He clicked his tongue against his front teeth. "Fascinating."
"I do have a counteroffer of my own, though."
"Really?" He rubbed his hands one against the other. "What?" "I'll be your friend, Robin."
It was his turn to laugh.
Victoria asked, "What's so funny?"
It took him a moment to collect himself. "Frankly, love, I've never had a female friend before. I don't usually do too well with the male ones, either."
"Oh, come on. I saw you at the Elizabeth Fund Gala. You were surrounded by people."
Robin's eyes darkened, laughter dying like disseminated smoke. "People," he said. "Not friends."
Victoria shivered, frightened by how quickly his shift in mood could alter hers. When the light went out of Robin's eyes, the sun ducked behind the clouds, plunging the cabin into twilight. It was a trick worthy of Hades, God of the murky underworld.
Robin considered her proposition. "Friends, you say? Well, why not? New experience and all that. It's probably good for the soul. Tell me, though, what is it that friends do, exactly?"
"To start with? They don't jet off to dinner in Canada."
"Is that a fact? Hm? Interesting. I guess I shall have to think of some other activity to amuse us." Robin pretended to do just that. He raised one finger in inspiration. "Do friends ever go riding together?"
"Yes." She qualified, "Though rarely through their father's executive suites."
"Gotcha. It's settled, then. We'll go riding tomorrow."
"Robin," she reminded. "Some of us work for a living."
"We'll go during your lunch hour. Surely, even Douglas grants you that entitlement. I'll pick you up. Pack some riding clothes. You can change in the car."
"I don't think so."
"Oh, alright, I'll wait. You can change in the office."
"You're a prince."
"My dear, you don't know the half of it."