Night moves

After she had paid Kelly and left the camera shop, Bryn forced herself to stop in a corner restaurant and circle the shots she liked best on the proof sheets while she sipped two cups of coffee and consumed a slightly rubbery grilled-cheese sandwich. Byone o'clockshe had dropped the large envelope at Barbara's office, and bytwo o'clockshe was home. She did a load of laundry, and while it went through she studiously exercised--not so much because she felt she couldn't afford a day of rest, but because she thought the strenuous activity might erase Condor from her mind.

 

But an hour's work didn't help, and when she had switched the laundry from the washer to the dryer, she hurried over to the complex pool and tried swimming. That didn't help either. But the kids did. They were thrilled to see her pick them up early again, and she found herself giving the afternoon over to them. They made a huge batch of chocolate chip cookies and ate them while she read a space story out loud. The cookies left them all too stuffed for a big dinner, so Bryn--bemoaning her lack of expertise as a dietician--decided they would have a huge salad for dinner, with apples for dessert. It went well, and she felt as if she had semi-succeeded in being a decent parent by the time she tucked her three charges into bed.

 

At nine the phone rang. It was Barbara, calling quickly before starting work. The proofs and negatives had been turned over to Lee; he had said little, but seemed pleased enough. "See you tomorrow!"

 

Barbara said, ringing off. Tomorrow--anothergrueling day with the drum-beating sadist!

 

Bryn forced herself into bed early. She was pleasantly exhausted and fairly relaxed, or so she thought.

 

She did fall asleep. She knew she had fallen asleep easily because her dreams awoke her with such a shattering clarity. She had not just dreamed of his eyes, or his hands, or his shoulders.

 

She had dreamed of being with him. Lying beside him, naked, feeling him touch her all over...

 

She awoke shaking, shivering, covered with a fine sheen of perspiration, and feeling as if she were on fire.

 

 

 

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"Oh, my God, I need a psychiatrist!" she moaned softly to the night. But she didn't need a psychiatrist, and she knew it. Whether she liked it or not, she was attracted to Lee Condor. And it was very normal.

 

He was an extremely sensual man, and his aura of tension and strength was enhanced by the power of his character. No one who knew him would ever forget him. Nibbling absently on her lower lip, Bryn hugged her pillow and came to a sad realization. She was capable of independence, but she missed loving, and she missed sharing. When she had been with Joe, she had given him her whole heart. Loyalty hadn't been a virtue for her, it had been her nature. And caring that way, she had been able to give so freely....

 

Bryn tossed about, burying her head in the pillow. She wanted Condor. More than she had ever wanted Joe. But Joe had loved her, or at least at the time she had believed that he did.Completely. And sex was the strangest thing. She had friends who thought a woman was crazy not to enjoy a lot of experience before settling down. Bare acquaintances went to bed together nightly by the hundreds or thousands, she assumed. But to her it was all so intimate. It meant a bond between two people. Condor probably didn't want bonds, and she didn't want to be bonded to Condor. Not in any way.

 

So why did she still want him so badly that he haunted her dreams?

 

"He'll go away," she promised herself. "And I'll forget, and I'll stop dreaming. And maybe someday I will meet a man who loves me, who I can love, who doesn't mind an instant family...."

 

She lay awake a long time, dismally accepting the ways of the world--and of nature.

 

She must have slept again, because she awoke to hear the phone insistently ringing away. It rang ten times before she made it to the kitchen; she was certain she would answer it just as the caller hung up.

 

"Hello!" she gasped out breathlessly.

 

"Bryn Keller?"

 

"Yes," she said, a frown creasing her brow as she tried to shake the fog of broken sleep from her mind.

 

The voice sounded like something out of a late-night horror movie. It was a husky whisper--neither masculine nor feminine.

 

"I want the pictures. Do you hear me?"

 

"Yes, I hear you." She definitely heard the voice, but she couldn't believe the words. This had to be a joke. There was a menacing quality to the voice; it sent chills of fear running along her flesh.

 

"The pictures, Miss Keller.All of them.The proofs and the negatives.No omissions."

 

"Now wait a minute--"

 

"Do you like living, Miss Keller?"

 

"I'm going to call the police--"

 

She broke off as an eerie and ruthless chuckle interrupted her. "Sounds like you have a death wish, pretty lady. I would be real sorry to see you...disfigured. But then, there's not just you, is there? You wouldn't want to lose one of those little boys, now would you?"

 

 

 

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"No! No!" Bryn shrieked in panic. It wasn't a joke; she was suddenly certain that it was no joke.

 

"Then drop the pictures--"

 

"Wait, oh, please, wait! I haven't got the pictures. I've already--'' "What?" "I haven't got the pictures.

 

I've already turned them--"

 

"I don't believe you."