Iris Johansen - No Red Roses

His hands tightened on the steering wheel, and he gave the appearance of counting silently. "Look, I'd really prefer not to pull the car over and break that lovely neck of yours," he said in a conversational tone. "So will you please shut up!"

She gave him a lethal glare and turned huffily away to stare blindly out the window. There was an icy silence for the remainder of the trip.

When they arrived at the apartment, Tamara stalked regally to the guest room and slammed the door decisively. She leaned wearily against it for a moment before walking stiffly to the center of the room and unzipping the crimson gown. It looked sadly garish in the bright morning sunlight. She wished she could just climb into that lovely, turquoise-covered bed and bury her head beneath the covers, as she'd done when something had upset her as a small child.

Sometimes it was a wearisome task to act the civilized adult and do what was expected. At the moment she wanted nothing less than to change and show up at breakfast with Jenny Jason. She had an idea those wise gray eyes saw far too much, and Tamara felt infinitely vulnerable this morning.

Well, she couldn't offend a hostess as gracious and friendly as Jenny. She stripped quickly, ducked in and out of the shower in minutes, brushed her teeth, and slipped on tailored navy slacks and an Anne Klein silk blouse with navy trim that looked vaguely nautical. She restrained her hair in a knot on the top of her head, and used a bit more makeup than usual to mask the violet shadows under her eyes.

Rex, Scotty, and Jenny Jason were already in the breakfast room when she arrived, and she slipped into the only vacant chair with a murmured, "Good morning."

Jenny smiled warmly. "You look fantastic in that outfit, Tamara. I wish I had your height. If I put on anything even faintly sailorish, I look like Popeye. Will you have coffee or hot chocolate?"

"Coffee, please," she answered, casting a wary glance at Brody and Oliver, who were engaged in a low-voiced exchange. She accepted the coffee Jenny handed her, added cream, and sipped the hot brew gingerly.

Jenny was gazing at her with eager silver eyes. "Look, Tamara, why don't you go with me to this Chamber of Commerce meeting? Then we can have lunch and maybe do some shopping later. I'd really like to get to know you better." She made a face at Rex. "He'll probably be rehearsing most of the afternoon, so it will be the perfect time."

"I'd like that," Tamara answered slowly. Not only would she like to get to know Jenny Jason, but the activity might keep her from brooding.

"Good!" Jenny said briskly. "Now let's get breakfast over with so we can get going." She gestured to the silver-covered trays on the table. "It's standard hotel fare, I'm afraid. When we moved to the ranch our cook, Mike Novacek, went with us." Her eyes twinkled. "He'd just married a Las Vegas showgirl and I think he was afraid to leave her here in temptation's way."

Oliver looked up abruptly, breaking off his conversation with Rex. "You received a letter yesterday in care of Rex," he said to Tamara, pulling an envelope out of his pocket. "I meant to give it to you, but I didn't get the chance."

"Thank you," Tamara said absently. "It must be from Aunt Elizabeth." But when she opened the envelope, there was an engraved invitation inside. A puzzled frown creased her brow and then she started to chuckle. "It's got to be some kind of joke," she murmured, shaking her head ruefully.

"What is it?" Jenny asked curiously, and even Rex looked up.

"I'm officially invited to be a guest of honor at a meeting of a witches' coven," Tamara said, grinning. "It's being held tonight at midnight in some ghost town by a local Las Vegas coven."

"How exciting!" Jenny exclaimed. "Which ghost town?"

Tamara looked down at the invitation. "Lucky Creek. What a peculiar name."

"I adore ghost towns," Jenny said dreamily. "We gave our first-anniversary party in a ghost town called Caleb's Gulch. It was a wonderful celebration, wasn't it, Rex?"

There was a glint of tenderness in Rex's eyes as he gazed at Jenny's glowing face. "It was a great party, mermaid. Steve really threw a wing-ding."

Tamara felt a twinge of envy at the gentleness in Rex's voice. It seemed a long time since she'd been the recipient of anything but scowls and sarcasm from him.

She put down the invitation. "Well, it's obviously someone's idea of a practical joke," she said carelessly. She helped herself to a piece of toast from a serving tray.

"I'm not so sure," Jenny said thoughtfully. "I read somewhere that there are really hundreds of covens all over the country. Some of them are the real thing and some just play at it for kicks."

"But why me?"

"Why, that newspaper story, of course," Jenny answered promptly. "They must have seen your picture and decided you'd be a star attraction at their little affair."

Rex muttered something under his breath that sounded like a shocking obscenity.

"What newspaper story?" Tamara asked carefully.

"Haven't you seen it? I picked up a copy at a drugstore in San Francisco yesterday. I usually don't buy those scandal sheets, but I saw Rex's name and thought I'd see what was up." Jenny pushed back her chair. "I'll go get it."

Tamara glared at Rex and Oliver, who both looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I gather this is no surprise to either of you?" she asked.

Oliver shook his head. "We saw it day before yesterday. Rex decided it would just upset you so we didn't show it to you."

"How considerate of Rex," she said between clenched teeth.

"The article was already on the streets and there was nothing anyone could do about it," Rex said, scowling. "Your seeing it would have accomplished nothing."

Jenny came hurrying back and handed the paper to Tamara before resuming her seat. "The picture is rather good of you," she said cheerfully. "Of course, the story itself is pure hogwash."

Tamara scanned the story hurriedly. "Oh no," she moaned. The scandal sheet had made her out to be a sort of benevolent white witch, casting spells and drawing up horoscopes. She read on hurriedly. They'd even brought in Aunt Elizabeth's psychic reputation in Somerset. How had they found out about that?

"I've got to phone Aunt Elizabeth," she said, scrambling to her feet.

"There's an extension in the hall," Jenny told her.

There was no answer at Aunt Elizabeth's, which only increased her worry. When she resumed her seat at the breakfast table, she distractedly pushed back her plate. "There's no answer," she said briefly, as she picked up her coffee cup. "I'll have to try later."

"There were just three lines in the article about your aunt, Tamara," Rex reminded her softly. The gentleness she'd yearned for was in his eyes, but she was in no mood for it now.

"There wouldn't have been anything at all if you hadn't given out that crazy story," she said, glaring at him. "If you've hurt Aunt Elizabeth, I'll murder you, Rex Brody!"

"You're jumping to conclusions," he said, frowning. "You don't know if she's even seen it yet."

Jenny looked from one belligerent face to another and hastily rose to her feet. "If you don't want any more breakfast, Tamara, why don't we get on our way?" She turned to Rex. "If I don't see you before I leave for the ranch, break a leg tonight."

"Thanks, Jenny," he said, kissing her on the cheek. He turned a flinty stare on Tamara. "I'll see you at dinner," he said commandingly.

Before Tamara could form a fittingly indignant answer to this arrogance, Jenny had whisked her from the room. Five minutes later they'd left the apartment and were on their way down to the car park and Jenny's cream-colored Mercedes.

The next few hours cemented a friendship between the two women. After the brief civic meeting, Jenny took Tamara to her favorite tearoom for lunch. They became so involved in exploring their mutual interests and backgrounds they never did make the proposed shopping expedition.