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 FIVE
Victoria snuck a peek over her shoulder at Douglas, wondering how her new boss was reacting to the spectacle she and Robin were making of themselves. But, to her surprise, Douglas didn't look upset. What he did look however, was worried. And not about his disintegrating Gala, either. But about Victoria and what she'd gotten herself into.
"Miss Morgan," Robin tapped the bar with his flat palm. "Your public awaits."
She steeled her nerves, and, pushing the possibility of losing out of her mind -- not that she had any idea what she'd just agreed to lose -- turned to give Robin her full attention.
God, but why did he have to look like that? How was Victoria supposed to focus on winning, when all she saw when she glanced at him were those tantalizing eyes? That sardonic mouth? Those long, languid fingers, like a musician's or a conductor's? How was she supposed to concentrate on sensational cocktails, when her body was presently whirring with sensations of wildly different nature?
She said, "Zombie."
It wasn't the most obscure drink she knew, but it did have a lot of ingredients. With luck, Robin would miss one of them, and they could quickly end this unforeseen endurance contest.
"Zombie." Robin rattled off, "Jamaican rum, light rum, syrup, Demeraran, apricot, lime and pineapple juice." He bowed in riposte to the smattering of applause that greeted his declaration, and, in the same breath, challenged Victoria, "Golden Cadillac."
"Light cream, Galliano liqueur, white creme de cacao." She barely waited for the bartender to nod that she'd gotten it right before throwing out, "Navy Grog."
"Dark rum, light rum, Falernum, lime juice, pineapple juice, and orange juice. Really, Miss Morgan, you're going for quantity over quality here. Never a good idea." He smiled. "Moscow Mule."
"Vodka, lime juice -- lime juice," she faltered, remembering there was some odd ingredient, but having trouble recalling which.
Robin drummed the bar with his fingers, smiling when Victoria startled at the noise. "The clock is ticking...."
She shook her head, trying to focus. "I'm thinking."
"You may have to concede defeat," he suggested. "And we both realize what that means, don't we?"
Actually, Victoria had no concept what it meant. She wondered how many idiots in history had entered into a gambit without first knowing what they stood to lose.
"Ginger beer!" She snapped her fingers triumphantly, pointing 'gotcha' in Robin direction, and relishing the scowl that it raised to mar his otherwise exemplary face. It was her turn now, and she intended to give as good as she got. "How about... Salty Dog?"
Robin's eyebrow was really getting a workout tonight. "Navy Grog, Salty Dog. Were you raised in a saloon, Miss Morgan?"
Victoria and Gabriel exchanged knowing looks. "Close."
Robin hesitated. "Salty Dog. That's gin, right? Gin and -- and something.... "
Victoria smiled sweetly. "The clock is ticking."
"It's gin and salt and -- and -- "
"Look at that, you may have to concede defeat."
"I never concede defeat." It was a throwaway line, the bulk of his concentration was focused on recalling the third ingredient.
"And we both realize what that means, don't we?"
"I said, I never concede defeat," Robin thundered, and everyone around them shuddered at how seriously he suddenly seemed to be taking their competition. Everyone that is, except Victoria. For the first time all day, she knew she had the upper hand over Robin Cooper. And she intended to play this card for all it was worth.
"You know," Victoria ventured. "Far be it for me to tell the Lord of the Underworld his business. But, I've been hearing this outlandish sound, lately. Now, what, oh, what could it be? Oh, wait, I know! It's Hell." She smiled sweetly. "Freezing over."
A beat. And then the crowd around them erupted with laughter. Even Douglas cracked a smile, shaking his head to side to side in appreciation of Victoria's quip. Robin remained deadly silent.
He was, by far, the moodiest man Victoria had ever met. Only acquainted for one day, and she'd already lost count of the classes he'd exhibited. She wondered if anywhere in that vast assembly, he possessed a mood even vaguely reminiscent of good-sportsmanship.
She never got the chance to find out.
Instead, Victoria found herself face-to-face with yet another color from Robin's medley of tempers.
He took a step towards her, hovering directly above Victoria, his features unreadable and thus, more than a little intimidating. Both Gabriel and Douglas approached her, neither sure of what Robin intended to do, and ready to protect Victoria from any assault.
But, rather than striking her -- which, considering his unpredictability, Victoria halfway expected -- or letting loose with yet another in his stream of scathing bon-mots, Robin chose to surprise everyone around them yet again.
He said, "Dance with me."
Victoria blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
"I think I deserve at least one dance. After all, it isn't every day that I acquiesce to act the role of a gracious loser."
He appeared to be engaged in a conversation. Unfortunately, Victoria couldn't discern whether or not it was with her.
"You mean, I won?"
"Let's just observe that, in a development uncharacteristic of those who go up against me, you didn't lose."
"Which means," Victoria pressed, "That I won."
"Dance with me."
He slipped one arm around Victoria's waist, leading her to the opposite end of the hall, and onto the buffed, parquet dance floor headlined by a twelve-piece orchestra.
"I did win, didn't I?" Victoria couldn't resist the urge to press her advantage. She suspected it was because she understood that the opportunity would not arise a second time.
"You won. But, that's all right." Robin took Victoria's hand, his thumb stroking only her palm, yet making the electric flesh-on-flesh contact feel like it was caressing her entire body. "I still intend to collect my prize." His eyes locked with hers. "One way or another."
The music started before she had a chance to compose her next breath, or stop her head from spinning. Robin proved an excellent dancer, not merely agile and musical, but powerful, dominant to the point where she had no option but to follow, her body's movements thoroughly out of her control, and yet as fluid and seamless as if she'd initiated them herself.
"So," she struggled to regain at least a semblance of control over her situation, and figured conversation was her best bet. She certainly wasn't about to conquer Robin physically. He'd dominated her, in that respect, from the moment he stepped out of the shower. She supposed she would be fighting him a tad harder over the issue, if it weren't for that pesky hormonal thing.
"Now that it's over, don't you think I deserve to be told what I was gambling with back there?"