by Sara Orwig
Her heart thudded. Each time they made love, he became more important to her. In the throes of passion, she had whispered her declaration of love, but he had never heard her and she intended to keep it that way until she heard words of love cross his lips.
She poured out her passion as they made love far into the night. Holding him tightly, she ran one hand down his bare back as he lowered himself between her legs and slowly filled her, taking time to heighten tension, making her want him desperately as she arched beneath him and then rocked with him. “I love you,” she cried, unable to hold back, certain he hadn’t heard her as it had always been.
She held him as his control vanished and he thrust swiftly, taking her over an edge. “Marek,” she cried, grasping his solid body as if he were the only anchor in her life.
“Camille,” he ground out her name while he shuddered in his climax. “I love you.”
Her eyes flew open. Moving with him, she held him. Had she imagined his declaration? She had dreamed of it too many times to count. Passion drove away her questions and she rocked with him, united physically, her heart belonging to him totally.
When he finally held her in his arms as legs were entwined and her black hair spilled over his shoulder, he showered her with light kisses. “I love you, Camille.”
She gazed into his dark eyes while her heart missed beats. “You really mean that?” she whispered.
“Yes,” he said gruffly, gazing at her solemnly. He brushed long strands of her hair away from her face. “Love may complicate our life.”
“Never. This is better. I love you and I’ve loved you since before we said wedding vows.”
He stared at her intently. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She shook her head. “You weren’t ready.”
He stared at her again in silence, and she wondered what he was thinking. “I’m ready now,” he whispered and kissed her hard, holding her against his heart while joy filled her.
“Wait,” he said, turning to open a drawer in the bedside table. “This is for you.”
Surprised, she glanced from the package to him, and then she took it to untie a blue ribbon and tear away the wrapper. She opened the box to take out a black velvet box. When she opened it, she gasped as the sapphire and diamond necklace caught the light.
“This is magnificent. It’s stunning,” she said, sitting up and pulling the sheet beneath her arms.
“Here’s what is stunning,” he said, sitting up to fasten it around her neck.
“Marek, thank you. This is the most beautiful jewelry I’ve ever owned except my wedding ring, which is gorgeous.”
“I love you, Camille,” he said again and kissed her.
Her heart pounded wildly, more from his declaration of love than the necklace which had taken her breath at first sight.
He paused. “We can make this a complete, real marriage. If we both love each other. Have you thought about the possibility of scaling back your career?”
Startled, she frowned. “No, I haven’t. My career doesn’t diminish my love for you or Noah. I don’t want to scale back or give it up. I can’t do that. I feel I can achieve so much more, and I love opera. I live and breathe opera. But it doesn’t take away from the love I feel for you.”
They stared at each other and she hurt, with a knot tightening inside. A muscle worked in his jaw as he stared intently at her. She had no idea what he was thinking.
“I don’t know about our future. I do know about now,” he said gruffly, reaching for her to pull her into his embrace.
She wrapped her arms around him and let her love for him pour into her lovemaking.
They loved far into the night again and early the next morning he left for the ranch to get out of her way and return to his own work. As she showered and dressed, she thought about his impossible request, his declaration of love that obviously had a stipulation. She didn’t know if that would cause him to end this marriage of convenience or give it less time and attention. Whatever happened, she couldn’t turn her back on her career now.
*
Saturday Marek had to stay at the ranch because of a crisis on a neighboring ranch where the barn caught on fire and two trucks burned. Marek loaned a truck to the neighbor and tried to help any way he could, but by the time he returned to his ranch and had cleaned up, Camille said she was exhausted and going to bed early, so he decided to fly to Dallas on Sunday.
She had a rehearsal on Sunday and a costume fitting that had been unexpected. Once again, it was late when she was finally free and they ate a cold dinner at ten.
The weekend was too short. The next week Marek mulled over the prospects of their married life. He hated being away from her. He loved her, and, as time went by, he knew that love would grow until it was as strong as the oaks that grew at his ranch.
What could he do to keep them together?
The phone rang, interrupting his thoughts, and he answered to hear his sister. “I was calling to tell you we are all excited about Camille’s performance. The girls are deliriously happy to be going and this will definitely be their first opera. It’s my first and Frank’s and I suspect it’s yours.”
“I’ve seen bits and pieces, at an event years ago.”
“No doubt some beautiful woman talked you into it. We’re thrilled to get to keep Noah opening night so Ashley can attend with her family.”
“It’s good for him to spend time with your family and Ashley is happy to be going with her family.”
“You don’t sound happy. Is everything all right?” Before he could answer, she continued, “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”
“Ginny, stop being big sis for a few minutes.”
“Impossible,” she replied. “I’m sorry. Take care of yourself.”
“At least you didn’t say, ‘I told you so.’ I thank you for that.”
“I won’t say any more on the subject, but I’m here if you want to talk.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll call Camille about Noah.”
He heard the click and she was gone. He felt torn between the heartache of loving Camille and living this way or ending this paper marriage or trying to get her to give up her career. Of all his choices, ending the marriage was not tolerable. He loved her even if he was going to get hurt again as much as he had been hurt over losing Jillian. Why was love such a risk?
He would go to opening night and then for two weeks, he would see almost nothing of her. What kind of incentive could he offer to get her to cut back a little?
For her opening night performance, he had no intention of doing anything to take away the glory of that moment from her.
Ten
The following night Marek sat in the box Camille had arranged. He was with the Avanoles. Her parents, her brother and both sisters were present. Marek thought he should have gone sooner to hear her sing. He had heard her sing scales and practice exercises, but nothing else.
When the conductor appeared and the orchestra commenced playing, Marek’s mind was on Camille and when he would be alone with her, something he didn’t expect to happen until this opera ended its last performance. And then Camille came onstage and his attention went to her. She had told him the story, which sounded sad and gloomy with death for her character at the end.
As she sang, Marek was mesmerized. He had heard her practice, but he had never been in the room with her. Now the full richness of her voice filled the opera house.
Chills ran down his spine. He knew nothing about opera. He had seen singers on television performing bits, but never a whole opera, never in person. Camille’s voice soared, filling the opera house with purest sound.
He was transfixed, steeped in the crystal sounds of her voice. She stopped and in minutes the music started again and then her golden voice with its astonishing range.
Her acting was lively and vivacious as he had expected, while her singing captured his heart. He would remember this night the rest of his life.
She was meant to
sing. She had a true talent and his heart felt as if it were breaking into a million pieces. Even though he knew nothing about opera, there was no mistaking that she had incredible talent. This went beyond their two lives. This was a talent that should be shared.
All this time he had had no idea how gifted she was.
Press releases and media could be filled with exaggerated hype, fed by agents, luck, friendships and the views of the reporter. Her voice flew beyond all those things. No one could question her tone, range or ability.
In a moment of clarity, he saw he could never take her from the stage. Her voice was meant for the famous opera, meant for the world to hear.
She belonged to her talent and she needed to give herself to the public because her gift was awesome.
He stopped thinking and listened to her clear soprano as she sang. He hurt with an incredible pain. How could he have done this to himself again? He couldn’t ask her to compromise, so perhaps he was going to have to, in order for them to have a bearable marriage.
Music filled the room, like sunshine surrounding him, while at the same time he felt as if he were tumbling into the darkness of another lost love, of pain and separation because he loved her. She had captured his heart and he had enabled her to do so.
He wondered at the perverseness of humans as he shifted restlessly, because for the first time in his life, he had met a woman he couldn’t love on his own terms.
Dazed, hurting while at the same time spellbound by her singing, he sat through the opera, applauding, calling “Brava” with others and knowing she was lost to him. He could never try to win her away from the life she had been destined to live.
He went through the motions, talking to her family.
Camille had an opening night party for the cast. Families were invited. Backstage, he stood to one side to let others surround her to talk to her. She was radiant, smiling constantly, and she looked more gorgeous than ever.
His pain increased as he watched her and saw what he was losing. There was absolutely no possibility of his having more than a fraction of her life. He thought of the new ring he had bought for her, to give her as a token of his love for her. He loved her, but he would not take her from her career and he would not give her that ring.
Her family was staying with them, so he wasn’t alone with her until one in the morning when they finally closed the bedroom door. Her black hair was partially braided and fastened on her head. The remaining locks fell freely across her back. Her makeup was thick, dramatic, emphasizing her large, expressive eyes and full mouth, making her breathtakingly beautiful. She smiled in triumph at him.
“You have a fantastic voice,” he said, crossing the room to place his hands on her shoulders. “You belong onstage, Camille. I’ve become an opera fan.”
“I’m so glad. So happy,” she said, hugging him and standing on tiptoe to kiss him.
Desire consumed him. He needed her kisses, her love on this night. He knew he would lose her in the future, but tonight she was in his arms, radiant from performing and her success. He tightened his arms around her and kissed her hard, wanting to hold her, love her and make her want to stay in his arms forever. For a few hours, he would cling to a dream that had no substance, but would give him joy tonight.
Later, when she was stretched against him, she chatted and finally raised herself slightly on her elbow to look at him. “Why so quiet tonight?”
She met a dark, impenetrable gaze. “I hadn’t thought that much about your voice and your singing,” he answered finally. “You have a true and beautiful talent. Your voice is wonderful. You’ll be a star and it will take you far from here.”
“I’ll always be able to come home.”
“That’s right. But you’ll also always have to leave to go perform somewhere.”
“This shouldn’t interfere with you and it may actually give you more time with Noah. Besides, at this point it is sheer speculation. I have a long way to go to become that kind of star.”
“I have a feeling it will come much faster than you think.”
“I think you’re biased, but I hope you’re right. I’m overjoyed you liked the opera.”
*
Camille’s La Traviata performance had been a triumph and the time had flown. Now as she sat on a Rangel jet bound for Santa Fe, she glanced next to her at Marek, who was poring over Noah’s baby book.
Marek’s thick black lashes were dark shadows above his cheeks. A stray lock of hair curled on his forehead. He had withdrawn into a shell the past few days, and she had wondered what had triggered it. Was it something in his life or had it been the interference of her performance and the intense practice beforehand?
“What? You have the intense look of a cat ready to pounce on prey.”
“How’d you know that?” she asked.
“I can tell,” he answered casually, closing the baby book to hand it back to her. “Nice. You need a picture of Kern. I’ll get you one.”
“I’d like that.”
“Now, why the intense examination?” he repeated.
She could feel heat fill her cheeks. “You’ve changed and I was trying to figure why. You’re preoccupied.”
“Business,” he said. In the time she had known Marek, she had never seen him concerned about business problems or ranch problems. Jess bore the brunt of those. Marek had a shuttered look and she couldn’t glean anything from his expression.
“I don’t think that’s really the answer,” she said, letting it drop for now until they were alone. They were flying to Santa Fe to get a place to live and then she would leave Dallas. Was it the move that had him on edge?
She was amazed how fast and efficient Marek was when they arrived in Santa Fe and later when she went through the move. She had another opera performance to prepare for, and they agreed he would leave Noah with her in Santa Fe and he would return to the ranch until opening night.
When she told him goodbye at the airport in New Mexico, he held her tightly and kissed her until she was breathless, her heart racing, and she didn’t want him to stop.
He released her abruptly. “Better go,” he said gruffly, his gaze trailing over her features as if memorizing them. When he turned away to board the jet and she left to go back to a waiting limo Marek had arranged for her while she was in Santa Fe, she had a distinct feeling something was amiss.
*
Getting up before sunrise, working until dark at any physical labor he could find, Marek threw himself into work at the ranch. He hated being alone in the house, trying to keep books, because his mind would wander constantly to Camille. He missed her and he missed Noah. He talked to Camille each day and saw them on Skype and tried to keep a fragile contact, but she was busy getting ready to perform Pamina in The Magic Flute, and Noah couldn’t converse with him. When he saw them on Skype, he hurt badly, wanting her, loving her, but hating the separation. He missed Noah’s happy little face.
Instead of growing accustomed to being away from her, to seeing her on opening night and when the performance was over, he hurt more with Camille and Noah out of his life and getting only tiny glimpses and contacts with them.
The last week in August he had to be in Dallas for a Rangel Foundation meeting, and Ginny had asked him to lunch beforehand. He listened to her chatter about the girls and saw their latest pictures.
“I haven’t seen them for too long, Ginny. Bring them to the ranch this weekend so they can ride.”
“I will accept that invitation,” she said over a crisp green salad while Marek ate only a few bites of his onion burger. “You miss Camille, don’t you?”
“Camille and Noah. Yes,” he said, giving her a steady look. “Want to hear you were right?”
“No, I don’t. I don’t want you hurt, and you’ve lost weight and look like you haven’t slept for weeks. Maybe you should go see her more.”
Marek shook his head. “I’m in the way when she practices or has lessons. She’s busy when she’s getting ready to perform and when she’
s performing.”
“I can imagine, but you can’t keep on like this.”
“I know, Ginny,” he said, looking away and she let the subject drop.
Through the meeting Marek thought about the future. He flew back to the ranch, the one haven in his life and now even the ranch seemed empty and hurtful.
That evening Jess appeared at the back door with a six-pack of cold beer. “Want company?”
Marek smiled slightly. “Hell, yes. I can use some company, Jess. Beer looks good, too. Come on in.”
Jess’s boot heels clicked against bare floorboards as he headed to the kitchen. In minutes they sat at the kitchen table while silence stretched between them.
“Camille was meant for opera. I can’t take her from that because she has the talent to be a star.”
After another stretch of silence, Marek ran his finger along the cold bottle. “Maybe I’ve been looking for what I had with Jillian, but Camille is different. I can’t expect her to give me what I expected with Jillian. Camille has all this talent. I’m going to have to settle for being a small part of her life, something I’m not used to doing.”
“If you love her and that’s what it takes, that’s a good decision,” Jess said. “I’d give anything for a small part of my family.”
“You’re right, Jess. I suppose it’s because I’m not used to being the one who compromises.”
“I don’t think you are.”
“For Camille, I’m willing to try to make this marriage work.”
“If you love her, that’s a good solution. You’ll do what you have to. So will she. You won’t lose Noah. What boy wouldn’t want to come to the ranch?”
“Might be a few, particularly one who’s raised backstage at operas.”
“You’ll see,” Jess said, and Marek felt a degree better. His cell rang. “That’s her, Jess.”
“Go ahead. I’ll head home anyway. Keep the beer for next time,” Jess said, standing and picking up his hat to go while Marek answered his phone. His heart missed a beat when he heard Camille’s voice.
