Chapter 13

Early in December, April received a totally unexpected invitation to dinner at the Collins home. A friendly note written by Mrs. Collins arrived in the mail and the next day, April asked Bill about it at school.

He chuckled. "Mom wants to meet you. She says you must be some kind of magician, the change you've worked with me."

"It's very nice of her but-dinner?"

His smile vanished. "I hope you can come. I guess I put the idea in mom's head, in a way. Dad agreed."

"But why did you do that?"

His grin returned. "Experiment-to see what you're like when you're all dressed up and not talking chemistry."

"You and your mother make it hard for me to say no."

"Then you'll come?"

She smiled. "Of course-all dressed up as you suggest and not a single scientific word."

She phoned an acceptance and it was arranged that Bill should pick her up and drive her to his home.

She took particular care with preparing for that Saturday evening. She spent more money at the beauty shop than she should have. When she returned, Peg looked appreciatively at the new hairdo. "The Collins' espere et fils-will flip by the time the main course is served."

"Well, Mr. Collins is on the school board."

"And if the old goat has a quick eye for a beautiful female you might come back with a raise in pay, honey."

She was ready when Bill arrived. Peg admitted him as April came down the stairs. Bill looked up at her and she could tell the impact she made by the almost awed expression that swept over his face. She wore a dark sheath relieved by a bit of costume jewelry, a green stone matching her ear rings.

Bill swallowed, recovered his poise, caught Peg's knowing eyes and nearly blushed. Peg relieved the strained moment for him by opening the cloak closet door and taking out April's wrap. She gave it to Bill with a slight nod toward April.

Peg said, "Have fun, honey. Bill, take care of her."

"No worry about that."

"I'm sure there's not."

Peg disappeared into the big main room. Bill turned to April, his eyes drinking her in. He held the wrap for her and his hands lingered briefly at her shoulders before he took them away.

On the short drive through the winter streets, she became aware that he drove carefully and precisely, a bit stiffly as though he were covering nervousness. The Collins lived in the town's best residential area, a district of modern, rambling houses sitting well back on wide lawns, snow-covered now.

Bill turned into the drive before a solidly built ranch-type home. He stopped before the low but inviting doorway, hurried to assist April out of the car. As she stepped out, he held her hand a moment.

He said softly, "April, you're a knockout."

"Why, thank you, Bill."

He started to say something more, changed his mind and dropped her hand. He escorted her to the door and as they approached, Mrs. Collins opened it. She proved to be a charming, smartly dressed woman with a warmth and vitality that belied her years. In a matter of seconds, she had April liking her. Mr. Collins, whom April had previously met, fulfilled Peg's prediction. He stared at her, hovered as Mrs. Collins led April into a huge room whose picture windows looked out on the winter street. He mixed drinks all around, including one for his son.

He caught April's questioning look. "Bill's man enough to drink in his own home, I think, just so he has no reason to get one illegally elsewhere."

They settled down to talk. Mrs. Collins covered her shrewd probing of April's background with charm. Mr. Collins proved to be a genial host, almost perfect except for his sometimes undue attention to April's legs. Bill joined in and, as April expected, the conversation turned to his extra work.

The parents seemed pleased enough that their son had improved his grades and that he had found something that interested him beyond girls, dates and fast cars. Bill listened with slight embarrassment to the comments about him but now and then he flashed April a look of gratitude.

Finally the elder Collins said, "I'm not too sure about chemistry as a life work for Bill."

"But Bill has a special aptitude for it."

"That might be, but what good is chemistry in my business? Bill will take over some day. Actually, he doesn't even need college."

"I have to disagree, Mr. Collins."

He chuckled. "I won't argue with anyone as pretty as you. Anyhow, there's plenty of time."

Mrs. Collins sensed April's distress and tactfully changed the subject. They had another drink and then dinner, perfectly cooked and served. The talk afterward was lazy and general and Mr. Collins served liqueurs. Before April realized it, the evening sped by. A glance at her watch told her it was well after nine and she hastily made her excuses.

Bill helped her with her wrap and the Collinses invited her to come again. Mrs. Collins asked her son, "Will you come right back after taking Miss Williams home?"

"I don't know. Might drop by the malt shop."

Bill helped April into the car and drove away from the house. After they turned the next corner, he said, "Thanks for sticking up for me with dad."

"Why shouldn't I have?"

"No reason, I guess. Except you're the only grown-up who thinks I can pick the right friends, have a right to have fun now and then-and choose my own career."

April sighed. "You make me feel pretty old."

He glanced around, surprised. "Old?"

"Grown-up-that sort of jazz."

He grinned at her. "Well, you are a teacher."

"That doesn't make me ancient by any means. Now and then I even think of myself as a fairly presentable young woman."

He said tightly, "That you are."

She stole a glance at him. Again he sat straight and a little strained beside her, scowling out through the windshield. She could almost read his thoughts and felt a small sensuous stir. Once again Bill looked to her very much a man. She suddenly felt the emptiness of the past weeks. Yes, and months. How long had it been since she had had a real date? Since a man had kissed her?

Judson Gray came vividly to her mind, the pressure of his lips, the moving of his hands on her body. Even as she angrily rejected the picture with her mind, her body suddenly cried out for caresses. She, too, fell silent and now she shared Bill's strain as they threaded the dark streets.

He pulled into her drive and indicated the dark house. "Looks like nobody's home."

"Strange-Peg should be."

He helped her out and walked with her to the front door. He unlocked the door for her, groped for the switch and entered the hall. The house had a feeling of emptiness. Bill indicated an envelope propped against a mail receptacle on the small table under the mirror.

April pulled out the note in Peg's flowery scrawl. "Have a date, honey. Won't be home tonight. See you at school tomorrow."

April realized that Bill, standing close, had also read the note. She folded it and smiled wryly. "Abandoned, I see.

"Frightened?"

"Not really. Peg's been away before."

He said, after a second, "How about your coat?"

"Oh. Of course."

He helped her out of it, hung it in the hall closet. She watched him, sensuous warmth coursing through her. She did not want to be alone and now the hungers she had repressed earlier returned with increased strength. She was still fighting them when Bill turned, smiling, his eyes silently, youthfully questioning. She again felt the tingling attraction of him.

She heard herself saying, "Can you stay a while, Bill? I think I can make some coffee-or drinks."

"They don't expect me home until I get there."

"Then-a drink?"

"Sure."

As she wordlessly turned to the main room, she wondered what madness was driving her. She should not have offered him more to drink, should not even have asked him to stay-she ought not to be feeling as she did.

She heard herself say, "Make yourself at home. I'll fix the drinks."

In the kitchen she paused, looked back toward the living room, wondering at herself. She should send Bill home right now. He was a student and she his teacher.

This was the sort of thing that led to gossip and trouble.

She sighed. It was too late now and she did not want to send him home right away. All right, she told herself as she crossed to the liquor cabinet, make the drink, be hostess for a few minutes and then send him on his way. Snatch a moment of innocent companionship-you've got it coming. You've worked with him hard enough.

When she returned to the main room with the tray of drinks, Bill was sitting on the divan across from the television set. He accepted his drink and she was too aware of the long, comfortable expanse of cushion next to him. She placed the tray on the coffee table, took her glass and deliberately crossed to the big easy chair Peg always used.

She dropped into it, caught a flicker of disappointment in Bill's face as he lifted his glass in a slight salute. She responded, relaxed into the chair with a sigh. At once she was conscious of his hungry eyes.

She said, "Your parents are very nice, Bill."

"Sure."

She could think of nothing else to say. The eyes still hungered. She wondered what she could tell him to divert his thoughts from their obvious course-how soon before she could easily and casually dismiss him.

She sipped her drink and her logic surrendered to some inner entity that enjoyed the light in Bill's eyes. Bill seemed to grow in maturity and purpose as she looked at him-both were qualities with which she had tried to invest him. Perhaps what she experienced was a trick of the light, perhaps it was simply wishful thinking. She saw Bill's jaw set. He pulled hard on his drink as though to gain courage.

He set his glass on the coffee table. He studied her, his eyes gleaming. Her desire for him to prove himself a man raged silently at him. He stood up slowly and shoved his hands into his pockets in a gesture so boyish that the illusion of his manhood almost shattered.

But his manhood was no illusion, her body told her. Bill was a man, for all his few years.

He looked down at her, said thickly, "Maybe I'd better be going."

"Why?" she asked.

She stood up and suddenly his hands were on her arms. She looked up into his face, unable to keep her naked need-and fright at what she felt-out of her eyes. He pulled her roughly to him and his lips smashed on hers. His strong arms crushed her to his chest.

For a split second she stiffened and her lips grew cold as a shred of logic overcame her want. Then his touch, the male feel of him, swept all thought aside. Her lips moved avidly under his, parted as her tongue darted out and caressed his like a feather. His arms increased their pressure and his hand slid down to the small of her back.

His hand moved on, caressing her. She heard her own breathy sounds whisper against his lips.

He broke the kiss abruptly, said, "Damn it, April."

He swung her around toward the divan. She had a glimpse of the window, blind high, and of the darkness outside. Who might be watching there?

"Wait, Bill, wait!"

She broke free. She stood poised a moment. She could send him home now or ... She walked to the window and pulled the blind. He watched her, his face flushed with desire. She could not look at him. She took a step back from the window, halted, waiting.

A soft growl sounded deep in his throat. He seized her and this time she allowed him to whirl her around and onto the divan. She felt his hand on her knee. It moved along her leg, under the skirt. His fingers touched bare flesh and a tremor went shatteringly through her.

She whispered, "Bill-oh, Bill-"

He opened the zipper at the back of her dress and fumbled for the catch of her bra. He loosened it and his hand cupped her breast. Tension coursed through her, spreading from his touch, and she grew aware not only of his strength but his weight.

"Wait," she whispered and pushed against him. "Not here-"

He got to his feet, drew her up with him. She led the way across the room, flipped out the light. She moved without hesitation across the dark hallway and up the stairs. He followed her. Alarm screamed in her brain but could not overcome what she felt. She turned into her own room.

The window blind was high and night light, reflecting from snow, made the room's objects and Bill quite distinct. She could see the bed, the dresser, the rectangle of the window, Bill's dark, towering shape.

She turned to him, melted against him. He kissed her and her tongue darted frenziedly to meet his.

He shoved her roughly away but she understood. She shed her shoes, lifted the dress over her head, dropped it, stepped out of her slip. She stood before him clad only in hose, dangling bra and thin silk panties, watching him undress. He gasped at the sight of her and, in a moment, the brassiere fell. As he reached for her again, her full breasts lifted to his kiss, the caress of tongue over tense, wanton nipples. She clutched his head tighter to her and he carried her to the bed.

She sprawled there wantonly as he removed the last of their clothing. Then his body, hard-muscled and lean, met hers fully. She responded to his strength, pulling him to her. She looked up into his face and saw the man she wanted him to be. Her hands guided and directed and then his weight descended.

She gasped his name as he filled her. She demanded-he gave and she demanded more. Arms and legs entwined, they discovered oneness in motion. She knew ecstatic waves of completion, each stronger, more overwhelming than the one before. She was dimly aware that her fingers raked down his back, clutched at his moving hips....

Ecstasy mounted to pain, excruciating, ineffable and mingled with joy. She felt she could stand no more-yet she strove. Her head fell back and her arms threshed as her body moved to his. Peak upon peak of joy....

Her voice came in a muffled, gasping cry as she reached the highest peak and slid down into wave after wave of spasmodic ecstasy.