The Tawny Gold Man Read Free Page B

could see the initials engraved on them. J.C.C. Judson Carmichael Cammeron. How she loved him. And how she prayed he'd like her offering.
    The slam of the car door startled Anne out of a daze. The front door being closed brought her fully aware. She heard him come up the stairs, pass her door, and close his own door farther down the hall. What should she do? It was past two thirty. Would he be angry if she went to his room now? Should she wait until morning?
    Anne hesitated long minutes. The she thought fiercely,   No, it won't be the same. By morning his birthday will be truly over. Without giving herself time to change her mind, she slipped out of her room and along the thickly carpeted hall on noiseless bare feet. She tapped on his door softly then held her breath. It seemed to take a very long time for him to open the door, but when he did she knew why at once. He had obviously just come out of the shower, as his hair was damp and he was wearing nothing except a mid-calf-length belted terry cloth robe. At the sight of him Anne felt her resolve weaken, but before she could utter an apology or whisper good night, he caught her hand and said with concern, "Anne! What is it? Is something wrong?"
    Her voice pleading for understanding, Anne shook her head quickly and answered softly, "No, nothing. I'm—I'm sorry to disturb you. I'm silly. I wanted to give you your birthday present and I couldn't wait till morning."
    Jud sighed, but his voice was gentle. "You're right; you are silly." He paused, then chided, "Well, where is this present you couldn't wait to give me?"
    Flushing, Anne slid her hand into the pocket of the cotton housecoat she'd slipped the gift into before leaving her room. As she withdrew the gift, he gave a light tug on the hand he was still holding and murmured ruefully, "You had better come in. We don't want to wake the household for the event of giving and receiving one gift."
    She stepped inside and he reached around her to close the door before taking the small package from the palm of her hand. Silently he removed the wrapping and silently he flipped the case open and stared a very long time at the cuff links. When he raised his eyes to hers they were serious, questioning. Fear gripped her and she blurted breathlessly, "Don't you like them, Jud?"
    "Like them? Of course I like them, they're beautiful. But, chicken, they must have cost a bundle. Why?"
    More nervous than before, Anne plucked at the button on her robe.
    "I—I saw them in the window and—and I wanted to buy them for you."
    "When was this?" he asked softly.
    "Almost—not quite a year ago."
    "And you've been saving all this time?" His voice was even softer now and Anne shivered. His tone—something— was making her feel funny.
    "Are you angry with me, Jud?"
    "Angry? With you? Oh, honey, I could never be really angry at you."
    "I'm glad," she whispered. "I wanted to give them to you tonight so badly. I could have cried when you didn't come home for dinner."
    His beautiful amber eyes seemed to flicker, grow shadowed and he carefully laid the jeweler's box on the night table by his bed then brought his hand to her face. Again a tiny shiver went through her as his fingers lightly touched her skin. Now his voice was barely above a murmur. "And do I get a birthday kiss too?"
    "Yes." A mere whisper broke from a suddenly dry throat.
    His blond head descended and then she felt his lips touch hers lightly and tenderly. The pressure on her lips increased and then he groaned softly and pulled his head away with a muttered growl. "You had better get out of here, Anne."
    She felt stricken, shattered, and as he turned away she cried, without thinking, "Jud, please, I love you. What have I done wrong?"
    He swung back, his eyes filled with pain.
    "Wrong? Oh, chicken, you've done nothing wrong. Don't you see? Can't you tell? I want to kiss you properly and you're so young. Too young. I think you'd better get out of here before I hurt you."
    His eyes burned