“I love it any time of the day or night.” Cary nibbled her lower lip, teasing the tip of his tongue along the sensitive inner flesh.
“Don’t talk about it; do it!” Amelia slid her hands over the muscular smoothness of his back, squeezing her fingers between their bodies, searching for him, knowing that his arousal would come hard and swift from the pressure that was already throbbing against her thigh.
He felt her touch and she was satisfied by the sound of his indrawn breath. His kisses grew heated; his hands searched the hollows of her offered body.
“How much time do we have before this house starts jumping?” he asked, smiling at the familiar response of her arching back as his fingers slipped softly between her legs.
“Never enough,” came her breathless answer as she surrendered to the sweet abandon to which only Cary could bring her.
Billie snapped the latch of her Gucci carry-on bag and tried not to listen to Susan and Jerome squabbling in the room across the hall—the room she had shared with Moss. It had heard many such arguments and seen much unhappiness.
Thad was stuffing his shaving gear into his bag as quickly as he could so he and Billie could escape this place. No way were they going to stay for four days! One night and he’d had enough of Sunbridge for a year. Anxiously he watched Billie out of the corner of his eye, knowing she couldn’t help but hear Susan and Jerome.
Billie saw Thad watching her, and their eyes met. “Perhaps if I knock on the door and tell them we’re leaving, they’ll stop.” Suddenly, she dropped onto the bed, her head lowered, hands over her ears. “Oh, Thad, I thought I’d never have to hear the word abortion in connection with one of my children again. I only hope no one else can hear them.”
“If you knock on the door, they’ll stop—but only pick up where they left off once we’re gone. You know, Billie, I never really had an opinion about Jerome until yesterday. The guy’s an out-and-out bastard.”
Billie shook her head. “I didn’t know. All this time I thought Susan and Jerome were so well suited for each other. They seemed to share so much. But if they can’t agree on becoming parents . . . there must be chasms of differences between them. Now I know why Susan blurted out the news of her pregnancy yesterday. She thought once it was out in the open, Jerome would never dare push the issue. But it seems he has it all figured out. Thad, I have to talk to her.”
“Darling, play it by ear. If we miss this plane, we’ll catch another. Don’t worry about time schedules; you and Susan are more important.”
Billie flashed him a smile of gratitude. There were times she thought it would be enough just to have Thad love her; his understanding her was a bonus not many women enjoyed.
The sounds of the argument continued, and as Thad and Billie finished their packing, they couldn’t help but listen.
“Damn you, Susan, you agreed you wouldn’t tell anyone! You said you’d think about an abortion. We can’t have a baby ruin our lives. Why weren’t you more careful? I can’t forgive you for this.”
“Then don’t. I never agreed to an abortion. You did all the talking, Jerome. You made all the decisions. This is my life, my body, my child.”
“It’s my child, too, and I don’t want it. What about the tour? Do you just expect me to cancel because you’re pregnant and aren’t supposed to fly so often? It isn’t done that way and you know it. Copenhagen is very important to me. I wouldn’t put it past you to have done this deliberately.”
“Copenhagen is important to you, not me! What’s important to me is this baby. But I’ll compromise. I’ll tour for another three months; I’ll be in my fifth month then. Take it or leave it.”
“Three months doesn’t cover Copenhagen,” Jerome said angrily. “If you’re going to do it, do all of it or nothing.”
“If that’s the way you feel, then it’s nothing. You can leave today if you want. I can stay here with Maggie, I’m sure.”
“We don’t need a baby; we don’t want one. What’s going to happen when it arrives? Are you planning to retire? What about me?”
“You always want to know how something affects you. What about me? You may not want this baby, but I do. I’m getting older. I never thought I’d become pregnant. I didn’t plan this; it just happened—and I’m glad it happened! It’s not the end of the world.”
“I’ve heard enough, Thad,” Billie said. “It’s time to leave.”
“Are you certain?”
“Certain.” She smiled weakly. “From what I’ve heard, Susan is handling herself admirably. She knows what she wants and she’ll fight for it. I’m proud of her.”
Thad was relieved. “Okay. Just give me a chance to get these bags downstairs and then say good-bye to Susan. We can work on the hugs and kisses with the others downstairs.”
Billie walked across the hall and knocked softly on the door, calling her daughter’s name. Susan swung the door open, her eyes filled with tears, and fell into her mother’s arms sobbing. Billie cradled the blond head to her breast. “Do what’s best for yourself, Susan. Make your decision and stick with it. I gave you our itinerary for the next month; after that, you can get in touch with me in Vermont. Our home is yours if you ever need it.”
“Mam...” Susan gulped. “I never meant for you to know. I didn’t want anyone to know. I never thought Jerome could be so selfish . . . so cruel.”
“Darling, all our idols topple from time to time. We just learn to live with it and to forgive them. Now, dry your eyes. Thad and I are ready to leave.”
Maggie stood on the front portico, a lump in her throat. It was hard to have her mother leave her. Always before, she had done the leaving . . . or the running away. She felt a stab of regret for all that had been forever lost—until Billie stopped in midstride and ran back to her, throwing her arms around her daughter.
“This is what you’ve always wanted, Maggie; now work to keep it. I know it’s going to be all right; if I wasn’t certain, I wouldn’t leave.” It was a lie, but a small one. If Maggie could take comfort from it, she could be forgiven. “Seth used to say this is the time to fish or cut bait. Last night was a magnificent beginning for you. Use it.”
“I’ll make it, Mam,” Maggie whispered fiercely.
“I know you will. Take care of yourself and the boys.”
“Tell the Hasegawas I’ll take care of Riley, not to worry. And Mam. Tell them thank you, for me.”
Maggie’s eyes lingered on the winding driveway long after the car had disappeared.
“I never did care for good-byes myself.” Rand’s voice was loud in the quiet morning.
Maggie whirled around, annoyed that someone had seen her at such a private moment. “Haven’t you been to bed yet?”
“No, and from the looks of you, I don’t think you have, either.”
“Since I’m still wearing my dress from last night, I wouldn’t exactly call your observation astute. I’m going up now to shower and change. Do you think you’re up to riding with the boys? I heard you make plans yesterday afternoon.”
“Yes. But I don’t know if Cole will remember. By the way, I looked in on him and he’s still sleeping.”
Maggie winced. “Don’t wait for him, Rand. Go with Riley. Cole will be a wet hornet when he does haul himself out of his bed. Did you have anything to eat?”
“No, not yet. I noticed the buffet in the dining room. Very English.” He smiled in approval. “All that’s missing is the kippers and kidney pie. I’ll shower first and then get something. Maybe by that time Riley will be down.”
“He’s already in the barn. He said his good-byes to Mam and Thad and ran off. I think he was afraid he’d cry if he stayed to watch them leave.”
Rand climbed the stairs to his room. He knew Sawyer was up. She’d never have missed kissing her grandmother good-bye. He found himself lightening his step as he passed her room and then hating himself for it. Damn it, what kind of coward was he?
Once in his own room, he stripped and turned on the shower full blast. The
steam rose and misted invitingly. He was already behind the frosted glass shower door when Sawyer opened his bedroom door and closed it softly behind her.
She waited a moment, feeling the strength seep slowly out of her. Nervously she touched the door latch, about to step back into the hall. Then, before she could change her mind, she pressed it, locking the door securely.
Whatever was wrong with Rand was going to be settled now. She’d waited long enough. It was difficult to ignore what she was thinking, what Rand was making her think by avoiding her, by his indifference. It would be so easy just to step beneath the needle-sharp spray and press herself into his arms. She loved the feel of his body against hers, loved it when they showered together, wet and slick with water and soap, touching, kissing, yielding. It had been so long, too long, and she needed him. Last night he’d begged off, saying he was tired. But he hadn’t been too tired to stay with Maggie, and he’d still been with her when Grand and Thad had pulled out of the drive.
Sawyer didn’t like what she was thinking. And she feared what she was feeling. Don’t think, she told herself. Act!
Trembling fingers fumbled with the belt of her terry robe. Prickles rose on her skin in the warm room when her nightie dropped to the floor. If he just holds me, it’ll be all right, she thought nervously. Rand will make it right. Over and over she whispered the words to herself, working up the confidence to open the bathroom door and step into the clouds of steam.
She could just make out his form behind the clouded glass. The sound of rushing water filled her ears, echoing the desperate rush of her need for him.
Rand stood beneath the invigorating spray, trying to purge the effects of a night without sleep and the haunting image of Sawyer’s face. The water was hot, almost too hot; he could feel the slope of his shoulders and his buttocks reddening from the heat. Punishing, but good; one kind of pain to mask another.
Silently, the shower door opened, and he felt her before he saw her. She stood almost as tall as he did, long-legged, slim, water beading on her shoulders and the fullness of her breasts. Venus dawning from the sea. It was the expression on her face, her hopeful smile, the deep yearning in her eyes, that paralyzed him.
Her movements were slow and fluid when she reached for him, pressing herself against him, drawing him into her embrace and searching for his kiss. Her body was impatient in its demands; her pelvis danced a sensuous rhythm; her thighs clung to his. His skin was clean, fresh; rivulets of water entered her mouth as her tongue licked near the base of his throat. She enticed him closer with the firm press of her fingers on his haunches, pulling him closer, inviting him with almost imperceptible gyrations of her hips. If she was aware that his arms did not hold her, that his lips did not return her kiss, she did not show it.
Sawyer felt the panic swell in her throat. There was an emptiness within her that only he could fill; yet his arms hung limply at his sides, his mouth did not respond to pressure. Boldly, she clutched at him, demanding he answer her caresses, appealing to his senses, refusing to accept his denial. She found herself falling to her knees, wrapping her arms around his legs, finding him with her mouth, almost crying with frustration when she realized that her urgings were futile. He was hardly aroused; he did not want her; she could not make him want her.
Rand’s hands were clutched at his side. He wanted so much to reach for her, to soothe her, to explain; but how could he without encouraging her? If he released his rigid control for even one instant, he would lose his resolve. To use her, to make love to her when he did not love her, would be more unkind.
A low groan of misery escaped him. He raised his head, unable to look down into her face. Even squeezing his eyes shut could not prevent the tears that ran down his cheeks to mingle with the shower spray.
Blindly Sawyer struggled with the shower door, throwing her weight against it, forcing it open. With an almost frenzied desperation she fought against the scream that was building in her as she skidded across the slick bathroom tiles. She needed to get away from him, to hide, to find oblivion.
Stumbling, stopping only long enough to jam her arms into her robe and wrap the thick terry cloth tightly around her body, she flew back to the privacy of her room.
Water that hadn’t been absorbed by her robe ran in rivulets down her legs and puddled at her feet. Her hair was wet, dripping onto her shoulders and face, but she was oblivious to it all.
Rand, Rand! she cried to herself. Why? What has changed? What changed you? It can’t be over between us. I won’t let it be over.
Sawyer sank onto the bench in front of the old-fashioned dressing table, unable to meet her eyes in the mirror, afraid of what she would see. She’d sensed this change in Rand, had refused to admit it. She’d closed her eyes to his indifference, shut her ears to his excuses. But no longer.
Premonitions. Dread. Fear of losing someone you love, someone you want to love you. It was a familiar story to Sawyer. It was being a child again, writing letters to Maggie and waiting days by the mailbox for answers that never arrived. It was always feeling sore and bruised and heartsick.
She looked up, and a bitter smile met her reflection in the mirror. Well, she’d been forced to accept the situation as a child, but she wasn’t a child anymore. This was one situation she refused to accept! If nothing else, she would find out why Rand had changed.
Sawyer glanced around the room. This wasn’t hers; she’d grown up in the studio out behind the house. There she’d had a room that was her own. All her things were there, her childhood things. That was where she wanted to be. This impersonal room Maggie had assigned her made her feel like a guest, as though, Sunbridge hadn’t been her home, her past, almost her entire life.
She made up her mind in an instant, shedding her damp robe to change into a worn pair of jeans and a blue denim shirt. In scuffed riding boots, comfortable as a pair of old slippers, and with her hair pulled back into a ponytail, she felt more like her old self, the self that hadn’t been humiliated in a shower with Rand. The self that still believed Rand loved her.
CHAPTER SIX
Amelia tripped into the dining room, Cary behind her. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were rosy. It was obvious to everyone that she had just made love, very satisfactory love. She smiled warmly at Susan and Jerome. Riley was already seated at the table, digging into a plate of ham and eggs and sipping from a monstrous glass of orange juice. Cole was nowhere in sight.
“Good morning, everyone,” Cary said genially as he filled his plate. “Are Texas mornings always this beautiful?”
Susan shrugged. Jerome merely burrowed deeper into himself. “I think so,” Riley responded shyly. “When I was here before, it was springtime, but it was gorgeous.”
“You could have asked me, Cary,” Amelia said with a pout.
“And listen to a dissertation on Texas weather? Don’t forget we have things to do this morning.”
Susan’s head shot up. “Are you going out, Aunt Amelia?” she asked anxiously.
“As a matter of fact, I am. I think we’ll be gone till later in the day.”
“Could we talk after you get back?”
Amelia hesitated. She was not in the mood to be a mother hen to Susan today; she wanted to concentrate on Cary. “I’ll see, sweetie. Perhaps before dinner, okay?”
“Sure....”
As Susan went back to toying listlessly with the scrambled eggs on her plate, Cary stared at her sympathetically. She looked awful—tired, bloated, and unhappy. Apparently, pregnancy did not agree with her.
Jerome got up from the table, his plate empty, and finished off the last of his coffee. “Ready, Susan?” he asked.
“No, I’m not. I think I’ll have another cup of coffee.”
“No, you won’t. Caffeine makes you nervous and you won’t be able to practice later.”
“I wasn’t going to practice later. I’m on vacation—or did you forget? Besides, I don’t feel well.”
“You’ll feel better if you practice,” Jerome said.
Cary stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth. He didn’t like Jerome, he decided. The man was a bully, he’d always hated bullies. If he didn’t watch it, Jerome could ruin his entire day. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he could see Amelia warning him to stay out of their argument.
Jerome saw the silent exchange between Amelia and Cary, and sensed his argument with Susan could result in a family confrontation. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stomped from the room.
“Susan,” Amelia chuckled, “you never told me Jerome was so testy in the mornings.”
Susan’s eyes brimmed. “Aunt Amelia, there are a lot of things I haven’t told you about Jerome. I do need to talk to you.”
“Yes, yes, of course you do. I promise we’ll be back before dinner.” With a bright smile, Amelia patted Cary’s hand and stood up. “No time for another cup, darling. We’re late as it is.”
Hurriedly she bent down and kissed Susan’s cheek. “Cheer up, darling. All men are bears when they wake up in the morning. This, too, shall pass,” she said lightly, and left the room clinging happily to her husband’s arm.
A wayward tear splashed into Susan’s coffee cup and she rose in disgust. Mam was gone, Amelia was off with her new husband, and she was alone. She supposed she could talk to Maggie or Sawyer . . . or she could try to solve her problems herself. Sighing, she stood up and headed back to her room. Whoever would have thought having a baby could destroy a marriage and a career?
How forceful could she be? she wondered. She’d never really been tested. As long as she’d done what Jerome wanted, things had gone smoothly. But for the first time in her life, she was tired of doing what Jerome wanted. Tired of traveling, tired of playing the same music over and over, tired of doing laundry in hotel rooms. She wanted a home. And a child. What was wrong with wanting to take a year or so off to have a baby? It was time to feel life, to nurture it, to have someone to love and love her unconditionally.
Texas Heat Page 8
