“Anthony thought I might find it entertaining.” Luisa made a face. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I can’t say I’m looking forward to it. I’m a city girl to begin with, and I can take just so much of this ice skating. It makes me tired just watching you.” She grinned appealingly. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Dany said lightly as she finished tying the laces of her tennis shoes. “Unless you’re involved, the mechanics can get pretty boring.”
“I’d think it would be easy to get involved with a coach like Beau.” Luisa’s eyes narrowed on Beau’s trim, powerful body and lean, good-looking face. “It must be very interesting being on the road with a hunk like that.”
“Beau?” Dany’s lips twisted in a grin. “You’ve got to be joking. I’m strictly business with our Confederate Don Juan. He’s got two or three lovely ladies in every city we visit.”
“So I’ve heard,” Luisa said lightly. “I can’t say that I blame them. I’ve always been a pushover for a wicked, golden-eyed devil.”
“Wicked?” Dany’s eyes widened. “We can’t be talking about the same man. There’s nothing wicked about Beau.”
“No?” A quizzical smile tugged at Luisa’s lips. “That’s not what I hear from his discarded mistresses. Not that they were complaining, you understand. In fact, they’d have been very disappointed if he hadn’t lived up to their expectations.” Luisa unconsciously moistened her lips, narrowing her gaze on Beau’s face. “He’s reputed to be very generous with his farewell presents as well. How does it feel to have one of the richest men in America at your beck and call?”
“I never thought about it,” Dany said uncomfortably. She’d heard vague stories, of course, about Beau’s background. Everyone in the United States knew about the Lantry Trust and the orphaned heir who’d been the focus of any number of custody suits during his childhood. “And he’s not at my beck and call. We work together.”
“Still, it’s odd he’d take on a subservient position.” Luisa’s face was speculative. “Rumor has it that he’s not a man to accept any kind of restraint meekly. I don’t suppose he has an unrequited passion for you or something like that?”
Dany’s glance followed hers to the man who’d been her anchor and security in a constantly changing world for the last six years. She tried to understand how anyone could see Beau as the devilish charmer of Luisa’s description. Yes, there was sensuality and a little recklessness to the cut of his lips, and, now that she thought about it, there had been moments when there’d been a wild, untamed glint in those gold-flecked eyes. She shook her head as if to clear it. No, Luisa had to be wrong. “Then the rumors are definitely in error,” she said firmly. “Beau’s one of the steadiest, most reliable men I’ve ever met, and we’re only very good friends.”
“Pity.” Luisa grinned. “An affair with your coach wouldn’t only be fun, it’d be very convenient. You know how I always favor the easiest way.”
Yes, Dany knew that. Luisa would always take exactly what Anthony wanted to give her and never ask for more. It was no doubt a very satisfying relationship for both of them. She jumped lightly to her feet and smiled with an effort. “Beau and I are going to have a sandwich and soup for lunch before we begin working again. There’s a lounge and kitchenette in the back of the rink. Would you and Anthony like to join us?”
“No, thanks.” Luisa raised her chin in mock hauteur. “I’m not about to mingle with the hoi polloi. Anthony’s promised me a gourmet luncheon at the main house as my reward for journeying to the wilds of Connecticut. He said he’d recently hired a cook who was utterly superb. Is he really that good or have I been had?”
“What?” Dany tried desperately to remember the quality of the dinner she’d scarcely tasted last night. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it very much,” she said vaguely as she turned to leave. “Will you be coming back here after lunch?”
“And watch two sexy men give all their attention to another woman?” Luisa shook her head. “I’m too vain for that kind of punishment. I’ll settle in and find a good book to read in front of the fire. I’ll see you at dinner.”
“Right.” Dany waved casually and set off briskly for the lounge, keeping her gaze turned studiously away from the two men across the rink. She wasn’t ready to meet those glacier-green eyes. She was still too shocked and raw from that first encounter.
She purposely blocked everything from her mind as she opened a can of bean and bacon soup, poured it into a saucepan, and put it on one of the burners of the stove. She was placing two ham-and-cheese sandwiches in the microwave oven to heat when Beau walked into the kitchenette. His hazel eyes were concerned. “Okay?” he asked quietly.
“You tell me,” she said, purposely misunderstanding him. “Did you get a chance to check those last tracings?”
He shook his head. “Anthony was too busy cross-examining me about your training sessions yesterday and today. The earlier ones looked fine though.” He paused. “Anthony wants you to go over your long routine for him this afternoon. Are you up to it?”
“Of course, I’m up to it,” she said, her tone brittle. Oh, what was the use? Dany told herself. She abruptly dropped the facade. “Will you please stop looking at me as if you expected me to fall into a Victorian swoon? So what if Anthony’s brought Luisa with him today? It’s happened before, and it will probably happen again. I’m not about to let it affect my work.” She turned and took the saucepan from the burner. “After all, nothing’s really changed.” God, she wished that were true. She’d give anything if she could have turned back time and never known that night in Anthony’s apartment.
“If you say so,” Beau said slowly.
“I say so,” she answered firmly. “Now sit down and I’ll dish up the soup. It may not be the gourmet delight Luisa and Anthony are probably enjoying, but it’s hot. That’s enough for me after five hours on the ice.”
The afternoon proved easier than she’d expected, largely due to the fact that Anthony exhibited a cool professionalism that she could respond to with equal composure. He didn’t bother to put on his skates, but sat on one of the spectator chairs in the two tiers that surrounded the rink and quietly watched while Beau put her through her paces. Occasionally he’d have her do something over or call out to Beau to keep an eye out for a slight flaw in style or technique. For the most part, however, he merely sat and watched, his eyes narrowed and thoughtful as he had her go over the freestyle program repeatedly until she was so tired, she could feel her muscles ache, then go numb with weariness. Once or twice she noticed a worried frown darken Beau’s face near the end of the grueling session, and she knew he would have protested if she hadn’t given him a fierce glance and shaken her head at him.
There was nothing vindictive in Anthony’s drive for perfection. He simply didn’t understand half-way measures and would have driven himself just as relentlessly to the point of exhaustion. In an odd way she was proud she had the stamina to keep up with his demands and that he had the confidence she could meet any test he set for her.
The last long rays of late afternoon were streaming through the skylight when he finally terminated the session and called Beau and Dany over to give them the rest of the notes he’d made on the afternoon’s workout. He hadn’t missed a thing; his criticism was incisive and all-encompassing. But for every criticism, he offered a suggestion on its correction. At the end of the list he sat back in his chair. “But those are all little things,” he said, his expression suddenly grave. “What we’ve got to work on is the real reason you lost the championship, Dany. I think I’ve got a handle on that now. You’re not getting into the ice. There’s no affinity there. It’s an ephemeral element, but the judges will notice it every time. An ice skater has got to look as if she belongs out there, as if she belongs to the ice itself. If she doesn’t, it plays hell with her style.”
“I know that,” Dany said, brushing a loose tendril of hair away from her face. “You’ve told me often enough.” She tried to smile. “I’ll
work on it.”
He shook his head. “I think that may be the problem.” His eyes were thoughtful. “It may be that you’re overtraining. You’re working so hard, you’re losing that fine edge. Perhaps it would be better to ease up a little.”
“Ease up?” He couldn’t be serious! With the Olympics less than a month away? “For heaven’s sake, you’ve just given me a list a mile long of all the things I’m doing wrong and then tell me to take it easy?” She shook her head incredulously. “You know I can’t do that.”
His lips tightened. “I also know that your figures in the compulsories will probably leave a lot to be desired. You always get a little impatient and it’s reflected in your scores. You’re going to have to make up those points on the freestyle, and you can’t do it if you don’t get into the ice.” He stood up, his hands jammed in the pockets of his sheepskin jacket. “You’ve come a long way to get to Calgary, Dany. I’m not about to let you blow it now.”
“I won’t blow it,” she said hotly. “But I won’t sit around and fiddle while Rome burns either. I have to work, dammit.”
“You will work.” Anthony turned away, his face implacable. “But you won’t overtrain. Make up your mind to that, Dany.” Before she could speak he was walking rapidly away.
“Damn!” She drew a deep breath and her fists clenched in frustration. “He doesn’t understand, Beau. I still have so far to go, so much to perfect. I can’t relax now.”
“He may be right, you know,” Beau said, considering. “He usually is when it comes to skating. I’ve been conscious of something being wrong lately, but I haven’t been able to put my finger on it. You just may have lost the edge. Perhaps we’d better rethink your training regimen for the next few weeks.”
“No!” Her cry had an element of desperation in it. She needed to work, to concentrate on something other than the turbulent emotional state Anthony had thrown her into. She deliberately released her clenched fists and tried to speak with calm persuasion. “He’s wrong, Beau. You know I’d be a nervous wreck if I didn’t have enough work to keep me busy. We’ll keep on just as we have been.”
His expression was troubled. “We’ll have to see, sugar. Anthony seemed pretty determined.” He shrugged. “Well, we’ll worry about it tomorrow. Now I’d better deliver you back to Marta for a massage or you’ll never make it to dinner. That was quite a workout today.”
She felt her tension relax as it always did in Beau’s soothing presence. “Worry about it tomorrow?” she teased. “Now who’s sounding like Scarlett O’Hara?”
“I told you I admired the lady,” he said with a lazy grin. “There weren’t many characters I could feel an affinity with in Gone With the Wind. Ashley Wilkes was too much of a namby-pamby for my taste, and Rhett Butler was a Yankee. That doesn’t leave much for a virile, dashing rebel like me.” He took her elbow and pushed her gently toward the door. “You know you can tap that priceless store of southern gallantry at any time, Dany. All you have to do is say the word, and I’ll make your excuses at dinner tonight. You sure don’t need any emotional upsets after that physical marathon you went through today.”
“There won’t be any emotional upsets,” she said steadily, her shoulders unconsciously squaring. “None at all.”
Her shoulders remained squared and her jaw set all that evening as she tried to conduct herself with a cool, mature poise that revealed nothing of the constant pain that was tearing her apart. She had no right to resent the attention Anthony was lavishing on Luisa, nor the casual intimacy they both displayed in every word and movement. It had been her choice, and she should be strong enough to subdue the anger and resentment. She was strong enough. She’d be damned if she’d let Anthony see how his charming little double entendres to Luisa were affecting her.
She plastered a bright smile on her face and proceeded to be very vivacious and charming. That gaiety was generously reinforced by several glasses of wine at the table and two more in the drawing room after dinner that she was barely conscious of drinking. She was aware only of how ravishing Luisa looked in a sapphire gown that showed so much cleavage, Beau had nearly choked on his own ginger ale when he’d first caught sight of her. Anthony’s admiration hadn’t been so obvious, but why should it be? she thought miserably. He was accustomed to all of Luisa’s charms, both clothed and unclothed. He’d probably be taking that gown off her soon in the privacy of his suite with the same deft deliberation he’d demonstrated to Dany so recently.
The thought pierced her cool aplomb like a fiery arrow, and suddenly she couldn’t take any more. She murmured an apology and something about needing an early night. She practically ran from the room, conscious of Luisa’s expression of surprise, Beau’s concern, and Anthony’s lack of any expression at all. Oh, Lord, had she given herself away? Surely not. She’d been in firm control until the very end.
Her head was whirling dizzily, and she felt suddenly unsteady on her feet. Oh, no, was she tipsy? That’s all she needed to make this disaster of an evening complete. She tried to remember how many drinks she’d had, but it was all a blur of sapphire chiffon and glacier-green eyes. One thing was certain: She’d never be able to make it upstairs until she got over this dizziness.
She moved with slow, careful methodicalness toward the library. She found if she took one step at a time, the hall didn’t shimmy quite so badly. When the door closed behind her, she leaned against it with a sigh of relief. In a few minutes she’d make it to that huge leather chair by the desk that beckoned so invitingly, and just stay here until she felt better. How stupid could you get? she thought with disgust. She never drank more than a couple of glasses of wine, even on social occasions, and she had to pick tonight of all nights to exceed that moderation. She was lucky she hadn’t made a complete fool of herself. She probably would have if she hadn’t been so tense and wary; the liquor hadn’t really hit her until she’d relaxed her guard.
There, she’d reached the chair and it hadn’t been nearly so difficult as she thought it would be. She sank into its cushiony depths, vaguely conscious of the scent of leather and the crackle of the logs in the fireplace across the room. It was very pleasant here in this dim, cozy room, she thought vaguely. And if the rich colors of Anthony’s new kilim carpet would stop blurring and running together, she’d be quite content. Anthony. She mustn’t think about Anthony or sapphire gowns or anything but making the room regain its equilibrium. She’d just close her eyes for a moment and everything would soon be back in clear focus. She was sure of it. All she had to do was close her eyes for a moment.…
“Dany.”
It was Anthony’s voice and she tensed. Then she relaxed as she realized she must be imagining it. Anthony couldn’t be here. He was with Luisa, helping her out of that blue siren’s gown. Besides, Anthony’s voice was hard and incisive, not velvet-deep with tenderness.
“Wake up, Dany.”
She was awake, couldn’t he see that? Well, perhaps he couldn’t. Somehow she’d forgotten to open her eyes. No wonder; the lids were terribly heavy when she did open them a second later. But it was well worth the effort. Anthony was kneeling by the chair, and he was so beautiful. He’d shed his evening jacket and tie; his white dress shirt was unbuttoned and revealed the strong bronze column of his throat. His hair was dark satin in the firelight, and his eyes were rich and glowing with the same tenderness that had been in his voice.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” she whispered solemnly, her dark eyes enormous in her thin, pale face.
“I’m not?” His lips twitched slightly. “Just where am I supposed to be?”
Her eyes filled with tears. “Helping Luisa out of her gown. Why aren’t you doing it?”
He picked up her hand on the arm of the chair and lifted the palm up to his lips. “Luisa doesn’t require a lady’s maid.” His lips brushed her skin gently. “And I had an idea you might. I was a little worried about you, so I went to your room before I turned in. Then I had to make a room-to-room search before I located you.�
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“You shouldn’t have left Luisa so long,” she said gloomily. “She’ll miss you.”
“Will she? I don’t think so.” He was just holding her hand now with an affectionate surety that was marvelously comforting. “She’s proved to be very understanding in our relationship to date.”
“That’s because she’s a very nice woman.” She glared at him accusingly. “All of your mistresses have been nice.”
“Is that some kind of crime?” His eyes were twinkling. “I enjoy being around nice women. Bitchiness has never appealed to me.”
“No. It’s just that they’d have been easier to take if they’d been perfect shrews.” Oh, Lord, why was she saying all this? It was as if all her barriers and safeguards had been banished, or rather, as if they weren’t necessary anymore. There was no threat in Anthony holding her hands so gently and gazing at her with eyes that were both tender and amused. “Oh, dear. I am tipsy, aren’t I?”
“Perhaps a little.” He cocked his head, considering. “You drank a little more than you usually do, and you were pretty well zonked from exhaustion from your workout even before dinner began.”
It was nice of him to make excuses for her, but she might as well make a complete confession. “I’d never be able to walk a straight line,” she told him gravely. “I barely made it to this chair.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said easily. “When you’re ready to go to bed, I’ll carry you up. Okay?”
It sounded wonderful and she nodded happily. Then her face darkened in a frown. “Luisa … ?”
“… is safely tucked in bed and snoozing away,” he said, his hand tightening on hers. “Not in my bed, I might add. Not anymore. There won’t be any woman but you in my bed from now on. I knew that the day you came back to Briarcliff.”
“You could have told me,” she complained indignantly. Her eyes filled with tears again. “You never tell me anything!”
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