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His lips were nibbling softly at her belly now, his tongue stroking her navel teasingly while his fingers kept up that torrid rhythm that was causing her to arch against him in a fever of need.

"You're dewing for me again, babe. I can feel it." He kissed her belly softly. "Lord, I'd love to see it." He chuckled. "But I don't think I'd better right now. I'm about ready to explode just from touching you."

Then he was on his feet, both hands cupping her buttocks and lifting her to his loins. She gave a strangled cry as he rubbed her with a slow, teasing rhythm against his iron-hard arousal, before clutching her to him so tightly that she gave an involuntary moan.

"Sorry, love," he gasped. His arms were shaking as he carefully put her down and pushed her away from him. "We'd better get out of here before I start demonstrating a few of the more advanced positions in the Kama Sutra. You haven't even tried the basic ones yet!"

He briskly opened the shower door and whisked her out, enveloping her in a huge, white, bath towel and rubbing the rough terry cloth over her with swift, gentle hands. When she would have taken up another towel to return the favor, he shook his head ruefully, and said, "Best not, babe!" He dried himself quickly and then, picking her up with the eager boldness of a corsair claiming his plunder, carried her to the bed.

In the hours that followed, Tamara at last understood her aunt's odd remark regarding the music in Rex Brody. Every movement was a symphony as he built her responses to a feverish pitch of mindless need. His lips brushing teasing butterfly kisses on her throat and shoulders was a delicate pianissimo of sensation, his gentle nibbling on her swelling breasts and inner thighs was crescendo. And then he parted her legs to enter her and show her the mind-shattering ecstasy of the final fortissimo.

Even later, as he held her tenderly against him, cradling her still damp head in the hard hollow of his shoulder, she felt the gentle, golden notes of a passionate contentment.

"Was it really good for you, babe?" Rex's words, rumbling beneath her ear, surprised her out of her euphoric bemusement.

"You know it was.” She sighed happily. "You must be one helluva lover, Rex Brody." Her index finger idly traced patterns in the springy dark hair on his chest. "Of course, I'm really too much of an amateur to judge."

"Nonsense!" He chuckled. "Your opinion is probably much more valid because you haven't had other samplings to confuse you! But you're quite right, I am a fantastic lover."

She looked up, knowing she would see those midnight eyes dancing with mischief. "Was it as good for you?" she asked uncertainly, suddenly worried that she'd been so bedazzled by her own pleasure she'd imagined his insatiable response.

His eyes were suspiciously bright as he looked down at her face. "Oh, babe," he said huskily. His hand lovingly traced the smooth line of her cheek. "Oh, dear heaven, babe!" And somehow his very inarticulateness was most satisfying.

Rex drew the covers up about them and then laid her head on the pillow, bending over with his arms on each side of her. His dark eyes flickering, he said hoarsely, "Rest for a bit, sweetheart. It's going to be a long athletic night." A glint of mischief appeared as he added, "And then we just might take another shower!"

Ten

It was nearly noon when Tamara languidly opened her eyes. Bright sunlight was streaming through the delicate, gossamer white drapes at the window and Rex was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in a black velour robe, and gazing at her with such tender absorption that she caught her breath in wonder.

"It's rude to stare at someone when they're asleep," she reproved throatily, thinking how strong and vibrant he looked sitting there.

"I like to look at you," he said simply. He bent to kiss her gently. "I like to touch you." He nuzzled her hair. "I even like the scent of you." He drew back reluctantly. "I've ordered breakfast. Sit up, woman." He stood up and strode out the bedroom door.

She obediently sat up in the bed, tucking the sheet around her and brushing her hair away from her face. It was a little late for modesty, she thought wryly. Rex had taken great sensual pleasure in memorizing every inch of her body in those wild, passionate hours last night.

He returned and placed a covered rattan tray carefully on her lap, then removed the stainless steel covers with a flourish. "I hope everything is satisfactory, madam," he said, then spoiled the servile effect by plopping back down on the bed and taking a slice of crisp bacon from the tray.

"You're not having breakfast?" she asked, nibbling at a piece of buttered toast.

He shook his head. "I'm not really hungry and I'll be having a long business lunch with Scotty and a record company executive. They want me to record 'My Lady' on a single even before my next album comes out." He took another piece of bacon and munched it lazily. "I tried to get out of it, but Scotty said Phillips arrived in Vegas last night." He grimaced. "I'll probably be in conference up until showtime tonight."

Tamara felt a twinge of disappointment that she quickly smothered. She knew she shouldn't expect Rex to throw all commitments to the winds just because she wanted to be back in his arms. She smiled brightly. "So you're going to make 'My Lady' a star in the musical firmament?"

He returned her smile tenderly. "My lady is a star," he said, running his hand in a gentle caress over her dark silky hair. "Don't ever doubt that, little star."

She felt an aching lump in her throat. She would not cry. "Are you sure you won't have some breakfast?"

"Now that you mention it, I've suddenly discovered a voracious appetite," he said lightly. "Did you know that I have a sweet tooth?"

She shook her head warily. There was a playful devil flickering in his eyes that put her on her guard.

"Well, I do. For instance, I'm absolutely crazy about honey." He picked up the small cup of honey beside her plate. "Do you like honey, sweetheart?"

"I can take it or leave it," she said, puzzled.

"I prefer to take it," he said thickly. With one deft movement he pushed the sheet down to her waist, baring her breasts. Then, dipping his finger in the honey, he placed the tiniest drop on each taut nipple.

"Rex!" Tamara exclaimed, her eyes widening.

But his dark head was already bending down and his warm, teasing tongue was licking at the honey- tipped rosette. He was most thorough and when he finally raised his head, they were both flushed and breathless.

He reluctantly covered her to the shoulders with the sheet. "You wouldn't consider staying right in that position until I come back?" he asked wistfully.

She shook her head slowly, her lips twitching at his disappointed expression.

"I didn't think so." He sighed, then rose to his feet. "I've got to dress." He strolled lazily toward the bathroom and paused at the door to look back at her hopefully. "You wouldn't care to come and shower with me?"

"Again?" She chuckled. "I'm practically waterlogged!"

"Just a thought," he said, and disappeared into the bathroom.

Tamara put aside the tray and slipped out of bed. She wandered to the closet, pulled out a sunshine yellow, crepe negligee, and slipped it on. The color exactly matched her mood as she brushed her dark hair until it shimmered with blue highlights. No makeup now, she decided. She was positively blooming.

She walked back to the breakfast tray and took a sip of coffee, then made a face. There was nothing as depressing as cold coffee. She left the bedroom and made her way to the kitchen. As she put on a fresh pot of coffee, she mentally checked out the things she could do today until it was time to dress for Rex's performance. First on the list was to try to call Aunt Elizabeth again. Then she would work on her book for a bit, and then she really must call Jenny.

The doorbell rang as she was taking down two cups and saucers from the cabinet. As she was about to answer it, Rex called from the foyer, "I'll get it." She turned back to the counter and poured two fresh, hot cups of coffee. She was searching the refrigerator for cream when Rex walked into the kitchen, looking amazingly conservative for him in a dark blue business suit. He was carrying an enormous, white florist box.