Max 2 - A Love Remembered

by Annette Broadrick

  Abruptly Elisabeth turned and went into the bathroom and closed the door. She was trembling so hard she thought her knees were going to buckle. Glancing into the mirror, a white-faced woman stared back at her with large, shadowed eyes.

  How ridiculous. She was acting like one of the wimpy virgin heroines in one of her historical novels. What was she expecting him to do, attack her? She smiled, trying to picture Tim in a scene from one of her books.

  No doubt her editor would be amazed to discover that all those sensuous love scenes had been taken completely from Elisabeth's fertile imagination. Since she'd been an apt student she fully understood human anatomy and related subjects. But none of that knowledge helped her to deal with her emotions at the moment.

  She felt as though she had to walk into a classroom for a final exam without having studied for it. She had no idea what would happen to her if she were to flunk. Take the course over? What if she couldn't learn? Had no aptitude?

  What a silly twit she was being. With jerky movements she pulled her clothes off and got into the shower. The soothing spray caused her to relax somewhat, and by the time she stepped out, she was able to see her situation in a lighter vein.

  All she had to do was to explain to Tim that— Well, she could just say that she had never— Then again, she could keep her mouth shut and let him find out on his own.

  The coward's way, perhaps, but better than stammering her way through a ridiculous confession. Elisabeth reached for her gown, which hung on the back of the door, and slipped it over her head.

  She eyed her reflection in the mirror. The hot spray had warmed her, given her cheeks more color and caused her hair to form wispy curls around her face. She shook her head. She couldn't hide in here all night, she decided firmly. Lifting her chin slightly and filled with conscious resolve, she opened the door and strode into the other room... only to find Tim lying across the bed asleep.

  Elisabeth almost burst out laughing at the difference between her imaginings and reality. He had probably gotten tired of waiting for her and had stretched out to become more comfortable. He'd removed his suit jacket, his socks and shoes, and unbuttoned his shirt.

  Moving carefully so she wouldn't disturb him, she crept up on the bed and scooted over, giving him plenty of room. She'd left the bathroom light on for him and now wasn't sure whether she should turn it off or leave it. Since turning it off would mean that she had to get up again, she chose the easier course.

  She slowly stretched out on the bed, determined to allow him to rest, and bit her lip to keep from laughing. Her eager bridegroom must not have gotten any more sleep the night before than she did.

  Elisabeth didn't remember going to sleep, but she definitely remembered waking up. Tim was kissing her, touching her, murmuring to her, and she felt as though her skin was on fire everywhere he touched her.

  ''So sweet," he murmured, ''so lusciously scented and sweet."

  Sometime in the night he had obviously come awake enough to get undressed. There was no doubt in Elisabeth's mind that he had not bothered with pajamas.

  He tugged at her gown, sliding the thin straps off her shoulders and shimmying it down her body until she was as bare as he.

  Elisabeth would never forget that beautiful night when Tim had initiated her into the rites of lovemaking with all the painstaking skill at his disposal. How had he known that she had been frightened and had needed some time? By allowing her a chance to relax and fall asleep Tim had insured that she never regained her stiff uncertainty, which might have contributed to her discomfort. His tender caresses gently led her from one plateau of arousal to the next. When she hesitantly imitated his caresses he gave her whispered encouragements in his passion-roughened voice.

  By the time he took her she was as eager as he to move to this next joyous step of sharing. How could she have known what beauty there was to be given in such a manner?

  He taught her about her own body and its secret responses. During the following days they had spent their time with her grandfather, their nights in each other's arms.

  Until the day they quarreled.. .the day he was hurt.

  Chapter 10

  Looking back, Elisabeth knew the quarrel had been silly, but it had been further evidence that she was losing control over her life.. .all parts of her life, even her professional one.

  She had gone into her office looking for something without a thought as to how revealing it would be to Tim, a man who obviously missed very little.

  He'd walked in without her hearing him until he spoke. "Who is Lisa Barry?"

  She froze in her task of looking through her top desk drawer, then slowly turned around. He was holding an award that had come in the mail a few days before. She had opened it, glanced at it then tossed it aside. Lisa Barry was not on her list of priorities at the time.

  He was reading the certificate. Lisa Barry had won the nomination for best historical writer of the year, an award given by a prestigious national publishing magazine.

  "I am." she said evenly, despite the fact that her heart was pounding in her chest like cannons going off for a twenty-one-gun salute.

  He glanced around then, taking in the reference books, the computer, several shelves that included her books. He walked over and touched each one.

  "You've written eight novels."

  She nodded.

  ''Charlie thought you'd only sold one."

  "I know."

  He tapped his finger against the shelves. "Does he know about these?"

  She shook her head.

  "Why not?"

  She couldn't answer the question. Was it because she had been afraid Charlie would make fun of her? Because she had enjoyed not sharing her secret life, not even with her grandfather? Because—

  "I saw no reason to tell him."

  Tim turned and looked at her, and the expression in his eyes caught her off guard. She had never seen him look that way. A frisson of fear ran up and down her arms.

  "So you have kept the information that you are a published, award-winning author from not only me, your husband, but your grandfather, the person you reputedly love more than anyone in the world? What

  Other secrets do you keep locked inside that private little head, I wonder?"

  "I don't see that it's anyone's business whether I'm published or not. Granddad knows I write. He wouldn't care about the kinds of things I write about."

  Tun leaned against the doorjamb and studied her as though he'd never seen her before, as though he wasn't too sure he liked what he saw.

  ''No doubt you've had a good reason for building the walls you carry around with you. Perhaps they've helped you to survive this far. But to keep your grandfather in the dark about something like this is the height of selfishness. The man is so damned proud of you that he glows at the mention of your name. He would have enjoyed every single moment of each book, from manuscript to publication, but you're so damned afraid to let anyone see you're human, that you struggle and worry, that you have moments of doubt and despair, you've bottled up everything that makes you a real person. All any of us are left with are the careful reflections of who you want us to see."

  He straightened. ''I feel sorry for you, Elisabeth. You're hurting yourself much more than you've hurt Charlie." He took a step back so he was in the hallway. ''Forgive me for trespassing in your private domain. You may be sure I won't do it again."

  He strode away, leaving her standing there staring at him.

  Hours later she found out that he had gone riding. Then his horse had returned without him.

  ❧

  A light tap on her office door brought Elisabeth out of her reverie. Since Mrs. Brodie never bothered her in the office, she knew who had tapped. She quickly moved to the door and opened it. Before she could say anything, Tim spoke.

  "I'm sorry for bothering you when you're writing. I just wanted to let you know that Greg and I are leaving for Denver. I'm not sure how long I'll be gone. It may be a few days."

  She c
ould only stare at him in shock, her mind still caught up in the whirling memories of the last few weeks. ''You're leaving?" she finally repeated.

  He leaned down and gave her a brief but thorough kiss. "Yes. But I'll be back. We have to talk."

  With that he spun on his heel and strode away, disappearing down the stairway at the front of the house. She stood there as though paralyzed. Where was he going and why? She hadn't said goodbye to Greg but maybe he, too, would be back.

  Yes. They had to talk. Somehow she had to come to terms with her feelings and her fears. She had used Tim's memory lapse to try to run away, at least emotionally, from what they shared, but her continued responses to his lovemaking made a mockery of her efforts.

  As much as she loved him, did she have the courage to remove her walls and allow herself to be vulnerable? Could she survive?

  The question had now become: could she survive without him? Elisabeth had a strong hunch that she didn't want to test herself. Not now.

  ❧

  Tim and Greg drove to Denver, stopping at Tim's place long enough for him to pack a few items of clothing he had not taken to Cripple Creek with him. Then they drove to the airport and caught an evening flight to New York.

  After landing at La Guardia, they directed the cab driver to the hotel where Tim had made reservations. Since both of them knew the plan, there had been little conversation during their travels.

  Crawling into bed that night Tim had a fleeting thought that he would be sleeping alone for the first time in almost a month. He had already grown accustomed to finding Elisabeth next to him. He lay there, staring into the dark, going over the surge of memories that had been flooding his mind during the day.

  She had lied to him about their relationship. He realized that now. He remembered with great clarity their first night together and how nervous she had been. Their long drive had done little to relax her, and by the time they had reached her bedroom she had been trembling with anxiety. He had known then that he couldn't force her into a relationship she wasn't ready for.

  He had waited for her to come out of the bathroom to tell her, reminding himself to have the patience to take it one step at a time. Eventually he stretched out across the bed. At least they were married, he remembered thinking. No longer did he have to sleep down the hallway from her. The important thing was that they were together.

  ❧

  Tim had felt like a fool when he woke up and discovered that he had drifted off to sleep. She was asleep. He had gotten up and taken a shower, then crawled into bed beside her. Thinking to give her a soft kiss good night he had moved closer to her. His kiss lingered, and his hand lightly brushed against her.

  She had turned toward him, relaxed and at ease. Would he ever forget that night or the nights that followed?

  Why had she lied about those days and nights spent loving each other, growing increasingly close?

  Had she still been angry because he had found out her closely guarded secret, the existence of Lisa Barry? Yes, he'd been upset with her attitude and he had let her know it. His impatience had gotten the better of him. Why did she have to be so guarded with everyone, including the people who loved her?

  Hadn't she understood why he'd been so upset? If she was still keeping her grandfather at a distance after all these years, where did that leave her new husband?

  He had several questions for her, but first he wanted to deal with Jason Barringer. Whatever happened between him and Elisabeth, Tim wanted to know that she would be left in peace by the other members of the family. This trip to New York should take care of Charlie's wishes. After that, Tim intended to deal with his own.

  He shifted in bed, turning on his side. Tim realized that he was looking forward to the meeting tomorrow. He smiled and drifted off to sleep.

  ❧

  The next morning Tim and Greg stepped out of the taxi that had brought them to the Wall Street address from their mid-town Manhattan hotel. The imposing edifice standing before them towered high above them, its marble walls attesting to several generations of money that had married and intermingled to produce the man they had flown halfway across the continent to see.

  Tim looked at Greg and they exchanged a smile that boded ill to someone, then walked to the entrance.

  After being questioned at several different levels, the two men were finally ushered into the executive offices, Jason's lair, high above the clouds. From the size of the waiting area that greeted them as they stepped off the elevators, and from the ornate furnishings, Tim recognized the subtle intimidation inherent in everything they came across.

  At long last they were directed to Jason's administrative assistant. The man rose from behind his desk and came around to greet them. Tim knew what the assistant saw—two men in expensive, conservative suits with an air of quiet power and determination.

  "May I be of some assistance to you, gentlemen?" the young man asked with a smile.

  Since Tim knew that the man had already been notified of their presence in the building and their desire to see Jason Barringer, the question was prompted by curiosity more than politeness.

  "We'd like to see Mr. Barringer."

  The young man's head was nodding before Tim finished speaking. "Yes, sir. That's what I understand. However, it seems that you neglected to call first for an appointment. Had you called, I could have explained that Mr. Barringer is tied up in meetings and won't be available all day." He turned and looked at an appointment calendar on his desk. "Perhaps you could return—"

  "Oh, that won't be necessary." Tim opened his briefcase and pulled out a large manila envelope and handed it to the man. ''Just tell him that his brother-in-law brought these for him."

  For a moment the man looked startled, then he quickly resumed his blank expression.

  Tim gestured to the comfortable-looking chairs opposite the large desk. ''We'll be right here should he change his mind about seeing us."

  Tim and Greg sat while the young man warily watched them. Glancing at the double doors on the other side of the desk, the man must have made up his mind to follow Tim's instructions rather than take a chance on misunderstanding the situation. He nodded and disappeared behind the doors.

  Tim and Greg refused to meet each other's gaze. Instead, they reached for a couple of magazines in unison and began to flip through them.

  The man soon reappeared.

  "Mr. Barringer can see you now."

  Tim nodded. He and Greg walked through the door the young man held open, then paused inside the room until the door closed behind them.

  The room appeared to be large enough to hold a basketball court. Light flooded through the eastern wall that was made entirely of glass, as was the south wall. The desk could have been used for a game of table tennis.

  As they walked toward the desk, the man seated behind it watched them without rising. They did not stop until they reached the edge of the desk. Then they stood waiting.

  Jason took in Tim's apparel, then turned his gaze to Greg. He glanced at the manila folder in front of him and flicked his finger against it.

  "Care to tell me what this is all about?"

  ''You wanted to know about the potential of the gold mine on the homestead property. I decided if you were so willing to spend your own money to find out, the least I could do was see that you got the information as quickly as I did.''

  ''What's the meaning of the statement signed by the engineer?"

  "Oh, that. Well, the sheriff wanted to get all the facts clear on what was going on. The engineer was very obliging, as you can see."

  Once more Jason looked at Greg. "I don't believe we've met."

  Tim spoke up. "This is Gregory Duncan, my attorney."

  Jason's brows went up. "What happened to Neil?"

  "He's Charlie's attorney."

  "I see." Jason made a steeple of his fingers. "What do you want from me?"

  "I want you to leave Elisabeth alone. You have your empire, you and Marcus. You've never shown any interest in
the Colorado property before. It was never yours. It belongs to her now because Charlie wanted her to have it."

  "According to these reports, the mine looks promising."

  "Yes, it does. I intend to tell Elisabeth that you and Marcus had the preliminary work done as a wedding gift for US." He smiled. "For which we thank you very much. It was a very generous gesture on your part."

  "I don't need to ask what's in this for you."

  Tim met his gaze with a level one of his own. "Given your perspective about life, I'm sure you think you have all the answers. There is one thing I feel I should mention, though."

  "And that is?"

  "For some reason Charlie didn't like you, Jason, grandson or not. Perhaps it had something to do with the dossier he kept on both you and Marcus over the years, a detailed account of your business practices, many of which would prove to be interesting reading material to the IRS."

  Jason straightened in his chair and leaned forward, but he didn't say a word.

  "Charlie felt that once he was gone you and Marcus might try some of your tactics to convince Elisabeth to leave the ranch. He knew how much you enjoy intimidating people. If there's one thing you enjoy more than money, it's power. Charlie understood that very well."

  "You can't prove a thing. Our business practices are perfectly legal."

  "Of course they are. But you know how it is. Once the IRS starts nosing around a company they tend to watch it a great deal more closely, scrutinizing, auditing. So many decisions are left to their discretion— interpretation of the statutes, that sort of thing. They can stick with you closer than a cocklebur and can be just as hard to get away from."

  "Are you threatening me?"

  ''Why should I do that? We understand each other, just as Charlie understood you and me. He passed me those dossiers in case they were needed. I promised to guard them carefully."

  ''You son of a— ''