Capture the Rainbow Read online

  A little smile tugged at her lips. “You know me too well, Dave.” She shook her head. “No, he’s reserving judgment at the moment, but I’m not giving up.”

  “I didn’t think you would.” Dave gave a mock shudder. “Better you than me. That stunt would make Evel Knievel turn pale. I can’t understand why you stunt people fight so ferociously for the privilege of breaking your necks.”

  “Money,” she said succinctly. “And the chance of beating a record set by some other stunt person.” She took a sip of champagne. “And some can’t resist the challenge of walking that tightrope between life and death.” She shrugged. “There’s any number of reasons why we do it if you think about it.”

  “None of which makes any sense to a sane individual,” Dave said dryly. His blue gaze was fixed musingly on her face. “You appear to be feeling better. There’s some color in your cheeks now. When I first saw you, you looked so strained and exhausted that I was worried.”

  She was feeling better, she discovered to her amazement. The painkillers must have done their stuff because her back wasn’t aching at all now. In fact, she’d never felt more vibrantly, glowingly alive in her entire life. She looked down at the champagne in her glass and smiled broadly. She felt like one of the bubbles that rose in the golden liquid—effervescent, yet very clear and sharp. It was such a lovely sensation. But was it too lovely? She couldn’t be a little tipsy, could she?

  Nonsense, she had only had one glass of champagne! It must be the relief of knowing she had a chance at the jump that explained this strange exhilaration. “I feel fine,” she said, smiling brilliantly at Dave. “Wonderful. Now why don’t you tell me what you and Sheila have been up to lately?”

  She continued to float on iridescent bubbles during the next hour and, if possible, the euphoria escalated to an even more shimmering plateau. When she’d first arrived at Joel Damon’s home in Laurel Canyon, she had thought the stark black-and-white decor was cold. Now she changed her mind. It was a perfectly beautiful room. Everything was perfectly beautiful.

  Dave’s face was beautiful too, with his bright blue eyes and warm understanding smile. But he wasn’t smiling at the moment, she realized hazily.

  “Are you okay, Ken?” Dave’s voice was full of concern.

  She looked at him wonderingly. What a foolish question. “Of course I am,” she said liltingly. “I was a little tired before, but now I’ve got my second wind.”

  His glance dropped speculatively to her glass. “I have an idea that’s not all you’ve got. How many cocktails did you have before I found you in this mob?”

  Did he think she was tipsy? The idea was so absurd that her throaty laugh rang out causing a few bystanders to look at her in surprise. “Only one,” she answered, standing on her tiptoes to plant an affectionate kiss on his cheek. “You know I never have more than two in an evening.”

  “I thought I did.” He frowned as he studied her flushed cheeks and velvet-brown eyes shining with an almost feverish excitement. He linked his arms loosely about her waist. “But something’s sure got you lit up like neon. Are you on something?”

  “On something?”

  “Coke, uppers, Quaaludes?” he enumerated tersely.

  “Don’t be silly,” she said indignantly. “I’ve seen enough careers blown to atoms by drugs to shy away from them like the plague.” Drugs. She had taken that painkiller earlier but it could have no connection with this lovely mood she was in. Well, perhaps a minor connection. It had taken the pain away and no doubt relief was partly responsible for the joyous ebullience that was surging through her. But she wasn’t going to worry about that now. She was too happy. It seemed a lifetime since she’d felt this irresponsible, this free from care.

  “I think I’d better take you home.” Clearly worried, Dave chewed at his lower lip. “Where’s your wrap?”

  “I think one of the maids put it in a bedroom upstairs,” she said vaguely. “But I can’t go home yet. I haven’t paid my respects to the wizard. He might get angry and turn me into a frog.” She shook her head, her forehead knitting in thought “No, that’s a prince.” She laughed again, her face alight with amusement. “And I’m not even a princess, so I guess I’m safe.”

  “What wizard?” Dave asked blankly, as he turned her firmly in the direction of the staircase that led to the upper level of the ranch-style house.

  “Is there more than one?” she asked, turning toward the corner of the room where Damon was still holding court. She knew exactly where he was, even though she’d been careful not to glance at him after that first searing exchange. She had been as aware of him as if they’d been linked by a golden cord. Perhaps they had, she thought hazily, but the cord was invisible. Sorcerers could weave spells like that, couldn’t they? She realized she had been a little afraid of him, but the emotion was gone now. She wasn’t afraid of anything at the moment. “Joel Damon, magician extraordinaire!” She lifted her glass in a mocking salute.

  He was gazing at her as she knew he would be. She’d felt his eyes on her all evening and it had engendered a tiny flame of excitement she had refused to acknowledge. He wanted her. Desire for her was there, blazing openly and hungrily in his expression, but there was something else as well. An anger and resentment so intense it pierced even her present buoyant self-confidence. “Perhaps you’re right; maybe I shouldn’t press my luck.” She smiled impishly up at Dave. “He might not realize I’m not a princess.”

  “At the moment he’s looking at you as if you’re a full course dinner after a month-long fast,” he said, his lips tight. “I think I’d better get you out of here before he decides to gobble you up.” He was propelling her rapidly across the room toward the stairs. “Home,” he said firmly.

  “If you say so,” she agreed cheerfully. “However, I don’t know why you think there’s anything wrong with me.”

  “Who is she?” Joel’s voice was clipped. His gaze followed Balding and the chiffon-clad woman as they slowly climbed the stairs. Balding’s arm was clasped around her waist with a casual intimacy that scraped like rough sandpaper on Joel’s nerves. Not that it was any more caressing than the fondling they had been indulging in all evening, he thought darkly. They couldn’t seem to keep their hands off each other and were obviously seeking privacy for greater intimacy. He pulled his gaze away from them with no little effort and turned to scowl at the slim dapper man next to him. He’d been resisting asking about the woman all evening and wasn’t the least bit pleased that the impulse had finally overcome his strength of will. “And what the hell is she to Balding? Didn’t you tell me he was married?”

  Ron Willet, his assistant director, raised a mocking brow as he watched the couple who were now entering a bedroom on the second level. “He’s very much married—and to an extremely nice lady from what I hear. But marriage wouldn’t stop many men when a sexy little siren like that one makes herself available to them.” His eyes narrowed as they moved to Joel’s face. He had been aware all evening that Joel’s attention had been caught by the chestnut-haired beauty and had been surprised that his boss hadn’t made a move on her. In the five years he’d worked with Joel, he’d never known him to hesitate when it came to taking what he wanted, particularly when it was a woman. And if he read the signs right, Ron knew that Joel wanted this one very much. He had noticed a smoldering intensity about Joel this evening that had aroused his curiosity. “She’s some eager little starlet, I imagine. It’s your party; don’t you know who your guests are?”

  Joel shook his head, his frown deepening. “My secretary appears to have issued invitations to half the film colony. I usually leave it up to her.” His lips twisted. “It doesn’t really matter. The faces may change, but the personalities stay essentially the same.”

  “I saw that luscious little blonde hanging on to you earlier in the evening.” Willet’s eyes twinkled. “She looked vaguely familiar. Have you used her before?”

  “In one of my pictures or in my bed?” Joel asked rhetorically. “Neither,
thank you, but she has aspirations for both positions. She’s the second woman tonight who’s made sure I knew that she’d be ‘passionately’ grateful if I decided to cast her in that minor role in Venture.” He took a hefty swallow of his brandy. “For God’s sake, the part is barely a walk-on and half the women in Hollywood are willing to throw themselves on the traditional couch and spread their legs for me. I wish to hell casting would get busy and give the role to someone, and get these women off my back.”

  “I should have your problems,” Willet said dryly. Then he suddenly chuckled. “Though perhaps they’re beginning to filter down to us lesser mortals. Balding is obviously reaping the benefit right now with that lovely upstairs. She probably thought he’d be an easier nut to crack than you.” He shook his head admiringly. “What a fantastic body. Do you think I could persuade her to believe I have more influence with you than Balding does?”

  Joel felt a totally unreasonable rage surge through him. “You think she’s wheeling and dealing?” he asked tersely. Why did the idea annoy him so much? It was exactly what he’d decided she’d been doing all evening.

  Willet shrugged. “Seems logical. Most of the women in town who are as gorgeous as she is are fledgling actresses, and I wouldn’t say Balding is the type to sweep a woman off her feet. She certainly was more than a little affectionate with him. Add it up for yourself.”

  “I already have,” Joel growled. His brooding gaze returned to the closed bedroom door. “You’re right. The picture couldn’t be much clearer.” He had known as well as Willet what the woman was up to, but for some reason he hadn’t wanted to admit it. And that was as unreasonable as all his other reactions to the sexy little hooker had been! He’d heard of instant explosive attraction, but he had never really believed it existed until tonight. Now he could hardly deny what was an obvious, physical fact. Very physical, he thought wryly.

  He liked to be in complete control of all facets of his life and this sudden compulsive magnetism filled him with a nameless uneasiness. My God, he’d been as jealous as hell when he’d seen Balding put his hands on her, yet he hadn’t so much as exchanged one word with her. He didn’t even know her name, dammit. This was utterly insane. When he had seen her start up those stairs with Balding, he had felt a possessive rage that was totally alien to him…and utterly new.

  Willet had been watching the expressions chase across Joel’s face. “I gather you’d like a chance at Balding’s little starlet yourself,” he commented. “Why don’t you deal yourself into the game? You hold more aces than Balding could ever hope to draw. I’m sure the lady wouldn’t be adverse to changing partners if you cared to show her it would be worth her while.”

  “Your faith in my fatal charm is hardly flattering,” Joel said caustically. “But in this case your assumption is probably correct. I’ve had too much experience with the genus starlet and I’m well aware of their priorities.”

  He had no doubt he had the necessary muscle if he cared to exert it. Besides, a chemistry as dynamic as what he had experienced couldn’t be one-sided…despite the cool little game she had been playing throughout the evening to pique his interest. And that last little mocking toast she’d thrown him before she’d gone upstairs with Balding had been redolent with challenge. But he wasn’t at all sure it was a challenge he wanted to meet considering the volatility of the emotion she seemed to be able to provoke in him. He had an idea it would be much safer for him to stay away from the source of that turbulence.

  “You’re not interested?” Willet asked. “You’re going to leave her to Balding then?”

  “No!” The violence of his reply surprised even himself. He drew a deep breath and made a conscious effort to regain his usual composure. His fierce response to the idea of Balding making love to her had caught him off guard. But at least it had answered the question he had been asking himself.

  A reckless little smile curved his lips as he finished his brandy in one swallow. Why the hell had he hesitated anyway? He had always had a taste for the bizarre and unusual and this response certainly qualified in that area. There was no way he was going to let another man take what he oddly felt was his own. He thrust his empty glass at Willet. “Get rid of this, will you, Ron?” he asked. “I think perhaps I’ll follow your advice and sit in on the game. It might prove interesting.” He turned and strode across the crowded room to the staircase.

  Dave opened several doors, finally discovering the guest bedroom that was obviously being used as a cloak room. There was a closet open, jammed with furs and velvet cloaks of every description, and the king-size bed was overflowing with other wraps. “Oh, there’s nothing wrong with you; you couldn’t be more right,” he said caustically. “You always worry about wizards turning you into frogs.” He shut the door behind them. “What does your wrap look like?”

  “It’s chiffon and it matches my gown,” she said absently. “I wasn’t worrying about him turning me into a frog. I told you they only bewitch royalty.”

  “It’s not here.” He turned from the closet, moved swiftly over to the bed, and began to toss wraps carelessly aside as he searched for the scrap of cinnamon chiffon. “It’s probably on the bottom: Sheila’s always is.”

  “I’ll find it.” She joined him at the bed and knelt on the area he had cleared with his ruthless pillaging. She quickly located the sheer bit of chiffon and waved it triumphantly. “Got it.” She draped the stole dramatically over her chestnut head and around her lower face like an Oriental veil. “Come with me to the Casbah,” she intoned huskily, her brown eyes dancing.

  “Dammit, quit kidding around,” Dave said in exasperation. His hands closed on her shoulders as he prepared to haul her off the bed.

  “I can see how you might be annoyed.”

  The voice was deep and faintly cynical. Kendra didn’t have to glance at the figure leaning indolently against the door jamb to know it was Joel Damon. She wasn’t even surprised.

  “When a lady invites you to accompany her to a bedroom, it’s very frustrating when she starts playing games instead of getting down to the business at hand.” Damon strolled into the room and closed the door with utmost care behind him. His smile deepened and seemed oddly feral to Kendra. “And I trust it was business, pretty lady?”

  Dave released her and straightened slowly. “I think you have the wrong idea, Joel,” he said quietly. “I was just about to take her home. We were looking for her wrap.”

  “Of course you were,” Damon said smoothly as he strolled over to the bed and stood looking down at Kendra. She was conscious of a curious tension beneath that mocking control and saw a flicker of that bewildering anger in the depths of his eyes. His hand reached out to push the chiffon veiling from her head and it fell to her shoulders. “I’m sure you were having an exceptionally good time doing it, too. I really should apologize for barging in, but I was compelled to interrupt you. There are some reporters downstairs and we wouldn’t want to give them cause to write about the orgies at my innocent little get-together, now would we?”

  Orgy? Dave and her in an orgy? It was too much! Kendra threw back her head and laughed.

  Damon cocked his head; his eyes narrowed on her face. “You have the sexiest laugh I’ve ever heard,” he observed bemusedly. “I heard you laugh several times tonight, but I was too far away to hear you speak. Talk to me, pretty lady.”

  Her eyes locked with his in an intense, mesmerizing stare. Then she smiled impishly. “My name is Kendra Michaels. And I’m not a princess.”

  “How unfortunate,” Damon drawled. “But I’m sure you have many other attributes. That hoarse throaty little voice is definitely one of them. It reminds me of the sound a kitten makes when it runs its claws over velvet.”

  “I think she’s had a bit too much to drink, Joel.” Dave’s voice was wary. “I’d better take her home.”

  That was the second time Dave had accused her of that. “I’m perfectly sober,” she said indignantly. “I told you I’ve only had two glasses of champagne.”


  “You heard the lady.” Damon’s lips twisted cynically. “She knows exactly what she’s doing. I rather thought she did.”

  “Of course I do,” Kendra said firmly. Ahh, but if she had thought him a sorcerer across the room downstairs, it was a mild witchery compared to his spell at close range. His olive eyes were even more brilliant and mesmerized her with a force as potent as the most magic elixir. She licked her lower lip nervously and his gaze followed the motion with a heated absorption that made her breath leave her body. “But maybe Dave’s right and I’d better go home.”

  “Yes, we’d better leave.” Damon’s voice was a little thick. He turned abruptly to Dave and said crisply, “I’ll take care of her. Go on downstairs and play host for me. God knows I’m bored enough with the role.”

  “You’ll take her home?” Dave frowned uncertainly.

  “Do you think I’m going to ravish her on the spot?” Damon asked evasively. “I told you I didn’t want any orgies at my party. It’s very bad form. We’ll leave in a few minutes. I just want to get to know Miss Michaels a little better.”

  “Kendra?” Dave asked.

  Poor Dave, she thought. He was obviously concerned about her and it was equally evident he didn’t want to offend Joel Damon, who could make or break his career with the utmost ease.

  “I’ll be fine. Dave,” she said gently. “Mr. Damon can take me home. Why don’t you do as he says?”

  “If you’re sure.” There was an unquestionably relieved expression on Dave’s face as he turned toward the door. “I’ll give you a call in the morning, Kendra.”

  The door had scarcely closed when Damon dropped down on the bed beside her, pushing her from her kneeling position back on her heels. His hands were gentle on her bare shoulders but nevertheless she was startled. Then his hands were gone and she felt cold and lonely.