by Diana Palmer
He ate without further comment, and so did she. When they finished, she washed dishes and he rinsed and dried them, side by side at the sink overlooking the barn out back.
“If we could afford it, I’d buy you a dishwasher,” he commented.
She smiled. “I don’t mind doing it like this. Modern conveniences would only ruin me. I’d become a worthless layabout!”
He chuckled, bumping her playfully with his hip. It was the first time he’d ever done that, and she tingled all over with the joy of intimacy.
“Okay. We’ll buy you a pair of new boots instead,” he added, glancing down at her worn ones with the toes permanently turned up from being soaked and dried several times during rainstorms.
“What? When these are just getting broken in good?” she exclaimed. “Heaven forbid!”
He studied her radiant face with eyes so tender they made her heart ache. “You never ask for a thing,” he said softly. “I felt so damned guilty about that ring I bought Tippy. I never meant for you to know about it. Diamonds and emeralds for her, when you don’t even own a decent winter coat.”
“I’d look terrible in diamonds and emeralds,” she commented, trying to defuse a potentially explosive discussion. He might not have slept with Tippy, but he’d given her a ring. He had too many principles to sleep with another woman when he was married. He hadn’t even given her a birthday present, and she’d noted the lack of one under the Christmas tree, too. That had hurt. Besides, he was guilty about last night, and it showed.
“You’re avoiding the issue. That’s not like you.”
She looked up at him with her heart in her eyes. “I don’t want to argue,” she said, trying to put a turbulence of new emotions into words. “Not after last night.”
He hesitated, his face growing more grave by the second. “Listen, Christabel,” he began slowly. “About what happened...”
She ignored the look, going up on tiptoe. She nibbled at his hard mouth softly and then with deliberate sensuality, opening her lips and fitting them deliberately to his with sudden boldness. His breath caught. She caught her own, expecting to be put firmly away. But his reaction was shocking. He threw down the soapy cloth he was holding and crushed her against the lean length of him, soapy hands and all, wrapped her up tight, and kissed her passionately, hungrily, until she gasped for air.
His powerful body shivered once, faintly, and she knew immediately that he wanted her. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. Apparently he was as vulnerable as she was, and it made her wild with pride to realize it. His black eyes splintered with desire as they searched hers.
She reached up to him again. Her mouth opened as his covered it. She moaned huskily under the furious, hard crush of his lips, and his arms enfolded her completely, lifting her half off the floor.
She was dying for him. There was no reserve, no shyness, no coy flirting. Her arms contracted feverishly around his neck.
He lifted his head just enough to see her flushed, submissive face, and his whole face clenched with desire.
“I want you,” she whispered huskily, shivering. “Let’s go back to bed. I want you so much, Judd! I want to take off my clothes and let you do anything you like to me, right now, in broad daylight!”
He actually groaned. Visions of unspeakable delight danced in his head at just the prospect. But before he could weaken enough to do anything about it, the sound of a car coming up the driveway froze him in her arms.
He frowned. “Maude?” he murmured hoarsely.
“Not this early, surely,” she began.
He lifted an eyebrow. “Haven’t looked at a clock yet, have you?”
“We just had breakfast,” she began.
He nodded toward the clock on the stove. It was ten o’clock in the morning.
She gasped. “Oh, dear. And I haven’t even started to heat up the turkey and dressing or put the rolls out to rise...!”
“What a good thing Maude came early,” he said abruptly, and put her down firmly. He was smiling, but his whole expression was one of barely contained sensual desire.
“What will she think when she sees us just now eating breakfast?” she exclaimed.
He gave her a long, unsmiling look, and the whole anguish of the day before slid over him like cold molasses. “We can tell her that we were up late talking about what happened in Victoria,” he suggested.
She winced. She’d actually forgotten the events of the day before, the loss of control that had sent them careening into each other’s arms. How could she have forgotten?
“One day at a time, Judd,” she suggested gently. “You’ll get through it.”
He didn’t reply. A car door slammed. By the time Maude came in the back door, they were finishing up the breakfast dishes in a restless silence.
Maude paused in the doorway, feeling like an intruder and not knowing why. She frowned. Judd didn’t look upset, but she knew he must be.
“You okay?” she asked him gently.
He smiled faintly. “I’m getting by. We just had breakfast. We were up late.”
“Talking, I don’t doubt,” Maude agreed as she went to the refrigerator, so that she didn’t see the guilty looks on their faces. “I’m glad you didn’t stay up in Victoria by yourself. You don’t need to be alone.”
“That’s what I thought,” he agreed.
She glanced at the two of them and her eyes were speculative, but she didn’t say a word. There was so much tension in the air that it was almost palpable. She just nodded and started transferring food out of the refrigerator to the kitchen table.
Four hours later, with dinner eaten, if not with relish by two late-breakfasters, Maude was making up a plate to carry to her sister.
“I’ll only be gone long enough to take this to my sister,” she said, and wondered why Judd looked relieved and Christabel looked crushed at the announcement.
“Good,” he said abruptly. “Christabel doesn’t need to be here alone, even with Jack Clark in jail. Both of you remember to keep the doors and windows locked. I’ll have a word with Nick before I leave.”
“Are you going now?” Christabel asked him, trying not to sound as if her world was shattering. Which it was.
“Right now,” he told her without meeting her eyes. “I never should have come!”
“Do you want me to take a plate to Cash Grier?” Maude asked suddenly.
“Don’t bother with that,” Christabel said miserably. “He can come over for supper.”
Judd’s eyes flashed furiously, but he set his lips together and didn’t say another word. He left the room to get dressed.
“What’s going on?” Maude asked, shocked.
Christabel lifted her chin proudly. “Nothing. Nothing at all. He’s just upset and not having an easy time dealing with what happened. He has to work it out his own way.”
Maude sighed. “If you say so, honey.”
Maude waited until he left. Ten minutes later, he was out the door and gone. He gave Christabel one long, last look and actually winced as he met her wounded eyes. But he didn’t stop. He wished them both a Merry Christmas and drove away. He was halfway to Victoria before he remembered that he hadn’t even told Christabel about the pearl necklace and matching earrings he’d bought her for her combination birthday and Christmas present. But considering the circumstances, that might be just as well. He’d gone nuts and taken her to bed. She’d be expecting happily ever after, and he was more confused about his intentions than he’d ever been in his life. He had to have time, to decide what he wanted to do. At the moment, he was incapable of making decisions.
13
Early on New Year’s Eve, with the ballistics test completed and an autopsy performed on John Clark, Judd came by at lunchtime in a quiet and introspective mood.
Christabel was watching
the news in the living room when he walked in. Maude had gone to town for groceries. He noticed immediately that the Christmas tree had been taken down. Christabel never liked taking it down until New Year’s Day, so this was painful evidence of how uncomfortable she was now with the holiday season. The present he hadn’t given her made him uncomfortable. He still had it at his apartment. He was too ashamed at this late date to produce it.
He sat down in his easy chair, tossing his hat aside while Christabel waited quietly for what he had to tell her. The television blared on into the silence.
He shrugged. “I was right. My shot went too far inside and nicked Clark’s femoral artery. He could have survived it, but only with immediate medical attention.” He smiled broodingly. “I don’t feel a lot better. But they said the security guard’s bullet was the lethal one, and that’s how it’ll go on the report.”
She was uncomfortable with him after the way they’d parted. But she cared too much to pretend his condition didn’t matter to her. “Intent is everything under the law, Judd, you know that,” she reminded him softly. “You didn’t mean to kill him. I’m sure the security guard didn’t, either.”
His eyes were haunted. “No, he didn’t. But he’s having a hard time. Clark is still dead, and the newspapers blame both of us, despite what the coroner found.”
She wanted to climb into his lap and hold him, comfort him. But there was a tremendous distance between them now. He was as unapproachable as if he’d never touched her in the first place.
She was confused, and she felt rejected. She’d never realized what it would be like, to be intimate with a man. It wasn’t what she’d once thought. It was agony to be separated from him, even for an hour. But he didn’t want her on any permanent basis. He’d had too much to drink, been traumatized, and he’d comforted himself with Christabel in bed. That was all it was, really. For him it was already over. Clark’s death wasn’t his fault. He’d go back to work, when he’d gone through the administrative procedure and counseling, and, slowly, he’d put everything that had happened right out of his mind, including the night with her. In fact, to look at him, she knew he’d already done it.
“You’re very quiet,” he remarked.
She lifted her eyes to his. “I’m sorry. You said, they’d finished the autopsy?”
He nodded. “They’re burying him day after tomorrow. One of the deputies here is going to take Jack Clark up to Victoria for the funeral. The news media will have a real field day with that.”
“We live in strange times,” she replied. She studied him sadly. It was hard to talk to him now. “But like you used to tell me, even life is a temporary condition. You’ll get through this.”
“Sure.” His chest rose and fell slowly. He traced her face with slow, dark eyes. “I’ve been putting this off because I couldn’t quite face it. But we have to talk about the future, Christabel,” he said finally.
“What future?” she asked with a forced smile.
He drew in a short breath. “I have to see about the divorce.”
She didn’t react. It was hard, but she managed it. “Yes.”
He relaxed. She was taking it much better than he’d expected her to. He still wasn’t sure of his feelings, but he had to do something. “I’ll get to it as soon as I can. Things are a little hectic right now. They’re backed up on investigations, so mine is on hold, probably until after New Year’s. I still have questions to answer and a counselor to see. There will be reports, depositions, and all the official aftermath of the shooting.”
She studied his hard mouth with growing unease. “You’re sorry about what we did, aren’t you, Judd?” She had to know.
He didn’t answer right away. “Yes,” he said finally, biting off the word. “I had too much to drink and you were handy,” he said flatly. “I had no right to use you to take my mind off my own problems.”
Her heart sank right down to her knees. Talk about being blunt...! “We are married,” she began.
“That doesn’t excuse it!” He grimaced. “Christabel, I never planned on any intimacy between us. I insisted on it. You know that! You know why!”
He looked very uncomfortable, and all her hopes vanished in the certainty of what he was really saying. It hadn’t occurred to her that two people who had been so intimate, so close, could suddenly become strangers in such a short space of time. But he looked remote and trapped. Freedom was as sacred as religion to him. He didn’t want her.
“You don’t want to stay married to me,” she said on a quiet sigh. “I know that.”
He wasn’t sure what he wanted. He was unsettled, confused. He’d gone in headfirst just after the shooting. He’d needed comforting, he’d needed a woman. He’d used alcohol as an excuse to have Christabel, for whom he’d been slowly dying. But now he was feeling the guilt of having pushed her into a relationship she wasn’t ready for. She’d never even dated seriously. He’d taken away her right to choose. Her infatuation with him had played out to its inevitable conclusion and he was thinking about his loss of freedom, his uneasiness with roots and family life. Walls were closing in on him. He had to have personal space, time to get over the trauma of the past few days, the shooting and his radically changed relationship with his young wife. It was killing him, trying to forget how it had been with her in that dark bedroom. He’d never thought her capable of such uninhibited passion. In fact, he’d never thought himself capable of it.
“No. I don’t want to stay married,” he said doggedly, more for his benefit than hers.
She nodded. “I see.”
“You don’t,” he replied. “But when you’ve had time to think about it, you’ll realize that I’m right,” he added coolly, staring her down. “It was a night out of time, Christabel. I crossed the line and you let me. Now we both have to live with it.” He leaned forward with his arms crossed over his splayed legs. “At least there won’t be any consequences.”
He meant the Pill that he thought she’d been taking. She didn’t dare tell him about that. She stared at the floor.
“And, of course, there’s Miss Moore,” she added softly.
He scowled, glancing at her.
“Your fiancée,” she reminded him, and forced a smile.
She’d said that once before and he hadn’t questioned it. He started to deny it now, but it suited him to let her believe it. If she thought he wanted the other woman, she might find it easier to let go of him. It would also make things easier for Tippy who, unbeknownst to Christabel, was having fits keeping Gary, the assistant director, at bay. Her relationship with Judd had accomplished that, at least.
She noted his sudden silence and drew in a slow breath. “So it was an engagement ring, after all, wasn’t it?”
He nodded, affirming the lie with a curt jerk of his head that felt like abject betrayal. She looked shattered. He didn’t want to hurt her, but his work was his life. He didn’t want to settle into family life. It felt like the worst sort of trap. He’d already taken something that he had no right to take from her, because he’d lost control of himself. Thank God she’d been on the Pill, or he might have been trapped for good.
The shooting played on his mind, tormented him. He knew he wasn’t thinking straight, but he couldn’t cope with so many changes at one time. Getting used to the idea that he’d helped kill a human being was bad enough, without the turmoil of an intimate relationship with a young woman who hero-worshiped him. Christabel deserved so much more than a night of passion with him. She deserved a good, strong marriage and children. He thought suddenly about her relationship with Grier and how it might change after the divorce. He felt sick at his stomach and he didn’t understand why.
Christabel was trying to deal with this complication and failing miserably. It was hard not to give way to tears, when her throat felt as if she’d swallowed a bowling ball. She blinked fast, to dry the suspicious
moisture around her dark eyes.
“Okay,” she said huskily. “I won’t make any trouble for you, Judd. I hope you’ll be happy with her.” She clasped her hands together hard in her lap and forced a smile. “I knew you had to be serious to buy her a ring like that, when we can barely pay bills around here. You don’t have to worry about that,” she added quickly, lifting a hand. “You were right about school. I only lack one semester, and only two classes, to graduate. I can get a job and work in between them, at a convenience store or something,” she said, her voice rushed as she made plans. “Then, after I graduate, I’ll get a job. With the extra money, we can hire somebody else to work full-time, like we planned.”
He winced. “Christabel,” he began, hating the pain he could hear in her soft voice.
She swallowed, hard. “You can go to Japan alone to meet with the buyers. You deal with foreign people all the time.”
“You’re part owner,” he interrupted.
She wouldn’t look at him. “For now,” she said. “When the Japanese deal goes through, we’ll make decisions. But I don’t want to go on living here and be an unwelcome third wheel after you remarry.”
“For God’s sake!” he burst out, horrified at the things she was saying. He hadn’t realized how drastically things might change with his announcement. He was totally unprepared.
She got to her feet. “It’s okay,” she said. “Really, it is.” She forced another smile. “I may have marriage prospects of my own,” she added, thinking of Cash.
So did Judd. He was poleaxed. Somehow, his own muddled thinking had plunged them both into this morass of unthinkable futures.
He stood up, too. “None of this has to be decided today!” he said curtly.
“It’s best if it is.” She moved toward the doorway. “I hope things work out for you up in Victoria,” she added, glancing back at him with eyes that didn’t reach past his chin. She kept smiling. Her face was going to be frozen in that position. “Happy New Year, Judd. I hope the next one will be happier—for both of us.”
