Chapter 11

GOOD EVENING, Mister Turko!" the nightshift doorman at the Cragmore Arms beamed effusively. Steve didn't appreciate this tall, thin-boned character any more than he did the little guy on the dayshift. Steve nodded slightly and crossed the wide expanse of lobby to the elevators. He pressed the button impatiently, watching the overhead numbers drop, indicating the car was on its way down.

The portal opened, but Steve stopped short and froze. He was prepared for most anything, but not Tom Sheldon.

Sheldon smiled, emerged with his hat in his left hand, light camel-haired coat over the arm. He thrust his right hand out at Steve seeking a handshake.

"Steve? If I'd known you were coming—I'd have waited." Steve didn't shake his hand; Sheldon dropped it to his side. "We could've had a drink—the three of us."

Steve pulled himself together. "Sorry to have disappointed you." He stepped aside, as though to allow Sheldon to pass. "Maybe some other time."

"What's wrong with now?" Sheldon asked, maintaining his smile.

"You mean upstairs with Adele?" Steve asked cautiously.

"I know a quiet little bar, not far from here."

"Some other time," Steve shrugged.

"I'd like to talk with you, Steve."

"I'm in my office at nine—just barge in. I don't even have a private secretary yet."

"What's wrong with the present?" Sheldon leveled, moving to one side of the opened elevator.

An elderly gray-haired lady inside the car waited impatiently for Steve to enter. Steve tightened his jaw and moved over to Sheldon. "Okay, Sheldon—talk."

"Steve, how would you like to be the general sales manager of Polar Bear? Run the entire sales end of it."

Steve bit his lower lip, telling himself that he'd floor the next person offering him a chunk of pie-inthe-sky. He faked a smile. "Are you retiring, Sheldon?"

"No, not quite. I intend to be the firm's president."

"And chairman of the board?" Steve asked cynically. "You'll need a mountain of voting stock to swing it."

"You don't think I'm going to stand still while Adele grabs up the new issue of stock?" Sheldon tightlipped. "There are certain stockholders entitled to a slice of the new issue."

Steve deliberately paused. This time his smile was genuine. "It looks like you weren't able to make a compromise deal with Adele."

"Those are the breaks," Sheldon shrugged. "Now if I had your good looks I might've won her over in bed."

Steve tightened. "Don't press your luck with me too far, Sheldon."

Sheldon went pale. "All right, Steve, I'll talk business. You ought to be able to talk Adele into a good chunk of stock for yourself. See if you can swing a few of the stockholders she controls your way—get their proxy votes, any way you can. Then swing in my direction."

Steve shrugged indifferently. "Sorry, Sheldon, I can't see the percentage. What can you offer me that Adele hasn't already promised me?"

"Wise up, Steve. Another good-looking, bright guy comes along and that man-hungry woman will toss you out on your can."

"Once you're in power, what's to stop you from tossing me out? What makes you think I'd trust you?"

Sheldon smiled knowingly. "You'd be out of your mind to trust me, Steve. Whatever I offer—I'll put in writing."

Steve hesitated, slowly measured his steps back to the elevator and jabbed the button. "I'll think about it, Sheldon."

"Steve," Sheldon eagerly started. "Together, we'll push that company—"

"I said I'll think about it."

The portal opened once again and Steve briskly stepped in. He big-heartedly offered Sheldon a slight wave of the hand as the door started to close.

"Going up!" Steve uttered aloud, alone in the car. And he instantly realized that if he wasn't careful it would be one helluva long fall back to the bottom.

Adele Crandon . . . Dan Moore . . . Mildred Whitney . . . Tom Sheldon. There certainly wasn't a shortage of backs to stab. And just as many schemers to stab him in the back. And how could he be certain that Mildred wasn't really working with Sheldon. Sheldon might've rehearsed her thoroughly in that performance of hers back at his apartment.

He needed a drink, he told himself as Josie let him into the apartment and informed him that Adele was out on the terrace. But when his eyes feasted on Adele through the filmy layers of lime-colored negligee he decided that he needed something more positive than a drink. Adele was reclining on the chaise lounge and the bright, full moon and supporting stars served as appropriate lighting effects. She spread her arms out to him, but that favorite smile of hers wasn't there. Steve was instantly aware of the troubled expression of her face.

"Steve, darling," she started. "Come here. I've been waiting."

Steve edged closer to her. "Wasn't Sheldon very entertaining?"

She grasped his hands eagerly. "Please, darling, no nasty blasts, no business—that dreadful man al-ways upsets me."

He kneeled close to her. "I was with Mildred," he confessed. "At my apartment."

Adele brushed the flat of her hand gently along his lips. "Please, Steve, not tonight."

He studied her cautiously. "What's the matter, Adele?"

"Sometimes I ask myself if it's really worth the struggle." She shrugged. "Stick with me, Steve," she pleaded, her hands caressing his face. "We've got a tough fight ahead of us—and I need you desperately."

Steve swallowed hard. "You don't think I'd turn against you? Do you, Adele?"

She leaned forward, gently planting her lips on his. She withdrew slowly, remaining close to him. "I don't want to think at all tonight, Steve. I only want to feel. I want to feel you close to me, know that it's real."

"Adele?" he started, his mind heavy with a number of questions that needed answering.

"Kiss me, Steve," she interrupted. "Kiss me real hard. Please don't waste that beautiful full moon."

His hands gripped angrily at the demanding sway of her hips and the sheerness of the negligee made hands tingle, each and every slight movement generating a new thrill, and he yielded to the fire kindling within him.

His lips touched hers and he felt her tongue work 'between them. He raised himself, imprisoning her on the lounge, his hands arching her back, pressing her breasts into him until he felt the nipples rise hard and firm against his chest.

He heard the whimper in her throat as their lips finally parted. "Oh, Steve," she moaned. "If that's what a full moon does to people—I'm all in favor of it."

His hands played the filmy layers of her negligee. Maybe it's this outfit of yours," he countered.

"I wore it just for you, Steve. The moment that dreadful Sheldon left, I just had to change into some-thing to make me feel like a woman." Her eyes flared, her hands clawed at his back. "Now you're here, Steve, and I'm complete."

Steve felt the brisk night air stirring slightly. "Aren't you cold with just that on?" he asked.

"I'm never cold," she asserted. "Especially not when you're around."

Steve smiled as a plane hummed by in the sky. "Is that thousand dollar bet still on?"

She playfully returned his smile. "The price goes down considerably in the darkness." She hesitated, grew serious as she rubbed the back of his neck. "I can be quite nasty at times, Steve—especially mornings. Maybe that nastiness is just a shield." She man-aged a faint smile. "Steve, darling, try to overlook my faults."

Steve's brain felt sluggish, his senses numb. He ;`wondered if she would always remain a mystery to—,him. He was certain that he felt something strong for Adele from the very beginning. But he was troubled deciding if that something was love or pity.

Steve looked up at the full moon darting behind a dark cloud. He pulled Adele up to him and she cuddled in like a kitten looking for a home. Her body seemed excitingly new to him, each and every curve of her still an ecstatic discovery. His hands frenzied her until she was clawing at his clothing like a fierce alley cat.

"Steve, Steve?" she begged.

Then, as in a dream, he took his trousers off. He thought only of this woman. A real woman. The labored sounds from deep in her throat telling honestly of her desire. Her need.

Steve hovered over her, a sudden surge of power overwhelming him, placing him in command. He slid the negligee off her shoulders, teased the filmy material slowly over the lush creaminess of her breasts and snaked the garment off her. He flicked kisses from thigh to thigh, edging gently around the flat of her stomach.

"Oh, Steve, Steve!" she moaned, her hands swooping and cupping his face. "I need you—so desperately!"

He kissed her and her mouth opened to him, her hands flaying wildly about until they stopped on the flat of his back. Steve felt the warmth and encouragement of her hands and he responded by cradling her buttocks throughout the extended kiss.

"I need you," she repeated as their lips finally parted.

Steve remained silent, his urgency growing more demanding, making him too impatient for mere words. He replied by imprisoning her with his powerful frame and the low moan in her throat diminished to a whimper. Steve swayed as her body rolled and throbbed against him.

The city with its many shadows and various night sounds swirled below Steve on his throne under the sky and he wanted to cry out his joy. He supressed his desire by lowering his open mouth over of her breasts.

And his body mastered her, keeping time with labored breath. Every contour of her grew insist-demanding, and Steve complied, fulfilling them equally.