Lady Moonlight Read online

  Kara groaned silently. She was the peace-at-almost-any-price type and; whenever possible, avoided battles----of will, or any other kind. Up to now she had enjoyed her large circle of friends and changed partners so often that no relationship had ever gone beyond the platonic. She had seen too many friendships ruined by the onset of that old devil, sex.

  Charged atmospheres and frustrated passions were not for her. She liked her life the way it was. Simple.

  Spur of the moment parties; her orphans; laughter at the small absurdities of life. It was a comfortable life. She wanted it to stay that way. Was that asking too much?

  One look at Dane's determined expression assured her that it was. He had the look of a man with a mission. And it didn't take a genius to figure out where he was directing his attention. He intended to shake up her life with the same casualness he would display when he shook sand out of a blanket after a beach party

  "Oh, my gosh!" She sat up and grabbed Dane's wrist, looking at his watch. "What time is it?"

  "Almost nine-thirty. Why?"

  "I'm late. I was supposed to make a phone call fifteen minutes ago." She slid off his lap, opened a drawer in a small desk and rummaged through it, sending a shower of paper to the floor. "I know I put it in here," she muttered. "It was on a blue piece of ... here it is!"

  "What's the hurry?" Dane asked.

  "He doesn't have a phone, so he's waiting at a store," she answered absently as she checked the written number and poked buttons on the white receiver.

  "Who?"

  Kara mumbled in disgust as she hit the wrong button. "Will you wait a minute? Now I have to start all over." She tapped a nail impatiently as the phone buzzed in her ear.

  "Juanito? Hi. I'm sorry I'm late. I . . uh," she glanced obliquely at Dane, "got held up. No, no, everything's okay."

  Her eyes remained on Dane's face, watching in fascination as his expression ranged from curiosity to recognition to grim determination. "I just wanted to make sure that the plans haven't changed for Saturday. About one?"

  "No," Dane said, moving to her side. "Not at one, two, or any other time. You're not going."

  "Just a minute," Kara said into the mouthpiece. "I can't hear you. There's some interference on this end." She glared upward. "You don't even know what I'm talking about, so will you please be quiet?"

  "You're not going," he repeated calmly.

  "For heaven's sake, it's just an innocent ....What, Juanito? Oh. That may be a problem, but we'll work something out. Nothing is impossible, my friend."

  "Some things are," Dane countered. "Such as your trip. There will be no trip." The words were spaced evenly for emphasis.

  Kara's temper was normally slow to rise. Suddenly she knew why. Most of her life she had been surrounded by pleasant, tolerant, ordinary and nice people. Dane's arrival into her life had introduced her to a new species-determined, stubborn, provoking and rude. His interference in her affairs was awakening a dormant and unfamiliar side of her personality.

  "You know something? You've known me for less than two weeks. And in that time you've decided that I'm a featherbrained idiot, and that I need a keeper. Well, I'm not, and I don't. I especially don't need you frowning at everything I say and telling me what I can or can't do. I told you earlier, I won't ..."

  "Ordered. I remember. But someone has to ..."

  "No, they don't. But if they did, you wouldn't ...."

  "But, apparently, I'm the only one with enough ...."

  ".... be the one I'd choose to..."

  "...sense to see that you're heading straight for ..."

  " ....help me cross the ..."

  "...trouble!"

  ".....street!"

  Their words ended in a dead heat. Kara's exasperated tone all but drowned out Dane's level voice.

  Suddenly aware of a crackling coming from the telephone, Kara lifted the receiver to her ear. "What? They want to close the store? Ask them to wait a minute. I'm trying to get rid of the interference I told you about."

  Kara drew in a steadying breath and directed her angry gaze back to Dane. "Good night," she said, "and good-bye. I'll finish this conversation after you leave."

  Dane turned away and dropped back down on the sofa. "You'll have a long wait," he warned, folding his arms across his chest and settling down, Kara thought in fury, for what looked like the rest of the summer.

  More agitated crackling prompted her to raise the receiver once again. "I don't know how long," she said, scowling at Dane. "As long as it takes."

  They glared at each other, neither willing to back down.

  "If you think you're going down there without me," he finally said through clenched teeth, "you're crazy!"

  Not sure she had heard correctly, Kara stared.

  Recovering quickly, she asked, "In the truck?"

  His nod was curt. "Why not? It's the closest thing I have to a tank."

  "Juanito? Problem solved. See you at one on Saturday. Bye." After dropping the receiver in place, she turned to the simmering man.

  "Why on earth you go on about these things, I'll never know. I'll be perfectly safe with ..."

  "How can you be safe with half the population chasing ...."

  "For heaven's sake! I thought I was the one who exaggerates around here. At the most, there were only five or six men. Anyway, that was then. It's not going to happen Saturday ...."

  "Damn right it won't, because I'll be there to keep an eye on you."

  She rolled her eyes and asked the ceiling, "How did I ever survive all these years on my own?"

  "That's what I've been wondering. Maybe Walter hasn't said ..."

  "You leave my uncle out of this!" She dropped down in a chair across from him.

  "I wish I could. What amazes me is that Tillie hasn't tuned into this whole thing."

  "She knows all about it."

  "Then why hasn't she tried to stop you?"

  "Obviously because she doesn't see anything so bad about it. And what you expect to hap...."

  "I'm sure that by now the word is out to watch for a gringa rubia."

  "English, por favor."

  "The blond American. Every two-bit hood at the racetrack will be looking for that head of hair."

  "There's plenty of time to worry about that," she said carelessly.

  "Five days isn't that far away."

  "Your timing's off. We're not due to go to the racetrack for another two weeks."

  She watched his changing expressions with fascination.

  "Then will you tell me," he asked quietly, "just what the hell that telephone conversation was all about?"

  "You mean, you thought ...."

  "I did."

  "Well, it serves you right. It's a perfect illustration of what I've been talking about. You listen to a shred of information, weigh the paltry evidence, arrive at an erroneous conclusion and ...."

  "What was the problem he mentioned?"

  "Transportation. But your truck took care of that."

  "And the rest?" He eyed her widening smile with resignation.

  "You've just insisted on supervising ten children at a beach party. They range in age from about one to fifteen, so they're a bit of a handful." She let that sink in before she softened the blow. "Of course, Juanito, Carmella and I will be there to help."

  They regarded each other in silence. Dane's words, when they finally came, did not surprise her.

  "I'm beginning to understand why you're still running free. There aren't many men who could ..."

  "Don't apologize for the poor quality of available men," she said airily. "I fly free because I choose to."

  He stood up, reached down and pulled her to her feet. "Little bird," he threatened softly, tucking her in the curve of his arm and directing her to the front door, "you're about to get your wings clipped."

  "Resorting to threats so early in the game?"

  He leaned back against the door, his green eyes taking in the amused anticipation on her face. He shook his head. "Promises. And
you'll find that I take my promises very seriously."

  Softly touching his thumb to her lower lip, he asked, "What time tomorrow?"

  "Oh, no time," she replied after a moment, slowly turning her face away from the touch of his hand.

  "I'm teaching a weaving class tomorrow night. And Wednesday," she continued before he could ask, "I'm fixing Terry his spareribs. He deserves them, even if his work was all for naught. They'll help console him for having to return all that stuff. Thursday evening Judy and I have an appointment with our accountant.

  And Friday ...."

  "Is mine. I'll be here at seven."

  She eyed him stonily. "Have I ever told you just how much I enjoy being bossed around?"

  "No." He grinned suddenly. "It's probably the only thing you haven't told me. But I'll give you all the time you want on Friday." Drawing her to him, he lowered his head. His lips brushed hers, strayed to an elusive dimple in her cheek and returned.

  Minutes later, the door closed softly behind him.

  Kara sagged against it, then jumped as he reminded her, "Lock the dead bolt. Now."

  Orders again, she thought in irritation. The feeling intensified as she became aware of her ragged breathing, loud in the silent room.

  ❧

  As he drove home, Dane's thoughts returned to the cheerful apartment. He still had the taste of Kara on his lips and the feel of her slight body against his. Friday. A long time to wait to hold an aggravating, captivating, maddening and enchanting woman in his arms. Of course, once she was his, she would settle down. She would understand that she couldn't run around risking life and limb, lopping off chunks of a man's remaining years with her hair-raising antics. Of course she would.

  Chapter 5

  Dane turned the pickup through the entrance in the white adobe fence, drove slowly across the dirt yard and stopped in the shade of a scrub oak. The children, alerted by the sound of an unfamiliar vehicle, instinctively edged closer to each other. Then, recognizing Kara's silvery head, they swarmed around the truck like hummingbirds at a blossoming plant.

  "Carina! Carina!"

  "What are they saying?" Dane asked, puzzled-

  Before Kara could reply, he recognized the word.

  "They've never quite figured out my name," Kara said. "That's what they call me." She opened the door and slid to the ground.

  Dane got out slowly on his side, watching as the children pressed close to her, clamoring for a hug, a kiss, a special touch. Carina, a variation of their word for love, affection. She had been well named.

  He turned his attention to the building before him.

  It was an adobe, thick walled and newly whitewashed. A large vegetable garden stood off to one side and extended behind the house. The area in front was dirt, carefully raked and very tidy. Everything, he noted, was as neat as the proverbial pin. As he turned to take in the rest of the grounds, Kara approached with the children and two adults in tow.

  "Dane, I want you to meet Carmella, Juanito and the rest of the crew."

  He looked at a large man with a neatly trimmed beard and steady eyes. A pretty, plump woman stood quietly beside him. After a moment of mutual regard, the three smiled and shook hands all around. Kara released a small sigh of relief.

  "This part," she said with a smile, "requires some concentration." She brought each of the older children forward, one at a time. Emulating the adults, they stepped forward and gravely shook hands. "This is Ruben, Benito, Carmen, Maria, Oscar, Alberto and Elena. And these munchkins are Juanita, Stella, Alonzo, Eduardo and Elva."

  Dane squatted down to be at eye level with the tots and, to his surprise, all but the smallest darted or staggered over, then reached up to hug him. The baby, still in Kara's arms, flirted with him, then buried her face in the curve of Kara's neck.

  "You've now been hugged and stamped with approval. Would you like a tour of the place?"

  "Yes. I thought you said there were ten."

  "The family has grown in the last few days. Let's go this way," she said, following Juanito and Carmella.

  "You should have seen this place when they bought it. It was a mess. I brought some of my hardier friends down for a weekend. We camped here and created miracles. And, of course, Juanito always works like a man possessed."

  Dane was shown through the girls' and boys' dormitories, Spartanly furnished with bunk beds and threadbare blankets. The cement floors were bare, but spotless, and there was a stall shower at the end of each room. The dining room had two long tables with benches and several high chairs for the toddlers. A massive gas stove stood against one wall of the kitchen. Open shelves were filled with loaves of bread and canned goods. The rest of the rooms were much the same: bare walls, cement floors and little furniture. By rights, Dane thought, it should have been dismal and depressing. But it wasn't. Carmella's optimism, Juanito's determination, the happy chatter of the children - not to mention Kara's eagerness to spread largess from the racetrack, he decided wryly - made the rooms ring with laughter, contentment and hope.

  Having shown off everything they possessed, the children began milling anxiously. "Trot out your Spanish," Kara directed Dane, "and assure them that we'll head for the beach in a few minutes. We just have to arrange the logistics."

  Everyone agreed that the children would be safer in Dane's high-sided truck. Within minutes, a large chest filled with iced drinks and boxes of food were transferred to Juanito's flatbed truck with homemade wooden sides. Carmella and Kara each held a toddler.

  "Okay." Kara grinned up at Dane. "We're ready.

  Tell the big ones that they're responsible for the little ones, and if even one of them stands up or hangs over the side, we stop and come right back."

  Before Dane had finished, kids of all sizes were crawling into the bed of his truck. The ones who couldn't make it on their own were handed in. The tailgate was secured and, within minutes, the two trucks were on the road.

  "If you can't speak the language," Dane asked with interest, "how do you communicate with the kids?"

  "Slowly, and with lots of body language. They don't seem very interested in the few words I know. Can't say that I blame them. The sum total of my knowledge is just about exhausted when I explain to out-of-state tourists that in Spanish a 7 is an h, and two ls are a y, which, of course, is why La Jolla is pronounced La Hoya."

  "Have you ever considered taking a Spanish class?"

  "Of course!" she replied in amazement. "l have taken them. Again and again. But nothing makes sense or sticks with me. Everything sounds the same. In class exercises someone would ask me how I felt and I'd tell them my name. Or they'd ask my name and I'd say I was fine. The kids point me out as the crazy lady who went to the store for eggs and asked for a dozen Thursdays." She grinned at his sudden crack of laughter.

  "Admittedly, the words huevos and jueves look different on paper, but when I say them, they come out the same. I also made the mistake of memorizing a few questions to use in the shop with Spanish-speaking customers. Things like 'May I help you?' and 'Is there something in particular you would like to see?"'

  "Why was that a mistake?"

  Kara shifted Elva to her other shoulder and said simply, "Because they answered me. They were so delighted to hear something familiar, torrents of words poured out of them. They never stopped, even to breathe. They would call in their sisters and brothers and aunts and uncles who were waiting outside, and they would talk to me."

  She looked up at him. "What I should have learned to say was, 'Stop! I only know how to count from one to ten,' or, 'You're not using any of the thirteen words I know. It wasn't funny at the time," she said, grinning despite herself. "Now, I point and raise a questioning eyebrow. If that doesn't work, we play charades. We have a good time, and no one seems to mind."

  No, he thought, keeping close to the truck ahead of him and automatically coping with the heavier traffic, they wouldn't mind. He wasn't the only one drawn to her spontaneity and warmth. He wasn't the only one who watched for t
he smile that began in her eyes, curved her lips then illuminated her entire face. She attracted people to her with the same ease that a magnet drew metal filings.

  His hands tightened on the steering wheel. How many men had seen themselves reflected in her dark eyes as they bent to kiss her? How many had laced their fingers in her silvery hair and tugged her closer?

  How many had lain beside her in a bed warm from their naked bodies and stroked her breasts, listened to her soft cries? How many had ...

  "Dane? Hey, what's the matter? You look awfully grim for someone who's going to a beach party."

  He shook his head, replying absently as he looked into her upturned eyes. Eyes fringed by absurdly long, dark lashes, eyes that shone with concern and . . . and what? Friendly acceptance? He didn't know what her eyes held, but he realized with a surge of exultation what they didn't hold. They lacked that gleam of unconscious sensuality, the look of knowledge, of experience. By God, he thought triumphantly, if there had been any, there hadn't been many. And now he was here. It's as simple as that, he thought. He was here. There would no longer be men in her life.

  Only a man. Only him.

  Kara cuddled the baby, talking soft nonsense to her, unaware that her fate was being decided by the man beside her.

  ❧

  The afternoon passed in flurry of chaotic activity. The boys pulled an old blanket out of the truck, dumped firewood in it and, each hanging on to a corner, hauled it to an area away from the crowd.

  Answering Dane's questioning look, Kara explained.

  "We make a point of staying to ourselves because there are so many of us. It's easier to count heads every few minutes."

  A soccer game was begun, but it soon turned into a jumbled version of boys-versus-girls touch football, with Dane the coach and captain of one team. Kara was called in to serve as the other captain when

  Juanito decided he wanted to referee.

  "You don't even know how to play," Kara objected. "How can you call a foul?"