Reckless Moon

by Doreen Owens Malek

  He glared at her stonily, but didn’t answer.

  “Was it Anabel?” she asked suddenly, on a hunch.

  His reaction betrayed him. His mouth thinned and his eyes became as hard as flint at the mention of his stepmother’s name.

  “Leave her out of this,” he snarled.

  “What did she do?”

  “I said to drop it. She has nothing to do with me and you.”

  “I think she does. Why did you leave home to get away from her? Was she so intolerable?”

  “I’m not on the witness stand,” Bram countered. “Don’t try to cross examine me.”

  “I wish I did have you on the witness stand,” Beth said fervently. “I’d get the truth out of you.”

  “The truth is no mystery,” Bram said, looking away from her. “My mother died and my father married somebody I didn’t like. It happens every day. Don’t you watch television?”

  Beth shook her head. “There’s more to it than that.”

  Bram’s brow darkened furiously. “Stop probing! God, you’re infuriating. Is this what maturity did for you? I liked you better at sixteen.”

  “When I believed everything you told me?” Beth inquired archly.

  His fists clenched, but he didn’t respond.

  “I believed it all,” Beth repeated. “And remembered it. Shall I recite it for you now?”

  “Beth...” Bram said warningly.

  “Let’s see,” Beth went on musingly. “Something about my not being ashamed of what had happened between us because my feelings were natural and normal. Wasn’t that it?”

  He took a step toward her, his eyes blazing.

  “And oh yes, someday I would be a wonderful lover for some lucky man. Have I got it right?”

  The fingers of his right hand flexed.

  “Go ahead and punch me,” Beth cried. “That’s what you usually do when somebody makes you angry, isn’t it? Don’t hold back on my account.”

  He reached out for her, and she struggled. Without hurting her he managed to subdue her and pull her into his arms.

  “I don’t want to punch you, I want to make love to you,” he murmured, tangling his fingers in her trailing hair and turning her face up to his. “I’ve wanted nothing else since I saw you at your sister’s reception.”

  Beth tried to hang on to the last vestiges of her pride, her resistance, but they were slipping rapidly out of reach. This was Bram, and he was touching her, holding her. Other concerns just didn’t seem to matter.

  “We’ve waited so long to be together again,” he said huskily. “Let’s not fight.” His lips brushed her cheek.

  Beth’s head turned involuntarily to bring her mouth to his. He kissed her gently at first, her awareness distracted slightly by the unfamiliar, tactile softness of his mustache, his beard. But then, as the pressure of Bram’s lips increased, she was submerged in a rush of sensual memory so intense her knees went weak and she dug her nails into his arms for support. After all this time, she thought dizzily, how can it still be so strong? She didn’t understand the basis of an attraction that could endure with such force, without contact, for such a long period. All she knew was that for ten years, through every experience of her life, she had never met a man who could make her feel what Bram was making her feel now.

  He lifted his mouth from hers and kissed her neck, brushing her hair away from her ear and whispering into it, “Do you want to go upstairs?”

  When Beth hesitated he bent his head and trailed his lips inside the collar of her dress, kissing her collarbone. He dropped his hands to her hips and pulled her tight against him, letting her feel his arousal. Beth gasped and went limp in his arms. Bram held her gently for a moment, as if to reassure her, and then turned her toward the stairs.

  The movement released Beth from her trance. I can’t let this happen, she thought wildly. He doesn’t love me; if I go with him I will be no different from all the others. Bram was special to her, he always would be, and if she couldn’t be special to him, she would be nothing at all.

  “No,” she said suddenly, clearly, and Bram stopped dead.

  He grasped her shoulders and stared into her face. “What?”

  “I said no. I can’t do this.”

  “Beth, why not? You want me. That’s one thing that has never changed.”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t want you. But I needed more when I was sixteen, and I still do. You can give me your body, Bram, but I want you to give yourself. Until you’re ready to do that please don’t tempt me with glimpses of something that just can’t be.”

  He was silent, his expression shrouded, and then he released her. “All right,” he said finally. “I’ll go. But it could have been very good for us.”

  Beth’s breath caught in her throat. She had no doubt of that. Her heart was still racing from her short time in his embrace.

  “I’m sure it’s been good for you with a lot of women,” Beth replied, her voice unsteady.

  He smiled faintly. “Stubborn as always, I see,” he said softly.

  Her chin came up slightly. “I hold out for what I want, Bram. If that makes me stubborn, then I guess I am.” She touched his cheek, and his eyes closed. “You were my first taste of love, Abraham Curtis, and I’ve always wanted to have the rest. But not this way.”

  His eyes opened and looked into hers. “You think I’m not capable of love?” he asked, with a note of despair in his voice.

  Beth held herself back from putting her arms around him again. He sounded as if he were worried about the issue himself.

  “I think you’re capable of great love,” she answered quietly. “But you have to take a chance with your feelings first. And somehow I know that will be very difficult for you.”

  He didn’t answer, merely picked up the hand that had touched his face and kissed it. Then, without a word, he walked to the door and left.

  Beth went back into the living room and made the drink she’d refused earlier. She heard Bram’s car start, and she sat in the stillness long after the sound of the motor had faded into silence.

  Bram was the only man she had ever wanted, and she had let him go. He was the only lover she had ever desired; in fact, she had never had another. But Bram didn’t know that. He didn’t know that she had turned away, disappointed and disillusioned, from every other man who had tried to make love to her.

  Beth put down her drink. She folded her hands in her lap and considered her situation.

  She was in love with Bram, and had been since she’d seen him standing on her lawn, talking to her sister on that summer night so long ago. It seemed such a ridiculous notion to her trained mind, that she could have fallen in love in the space of a few hours and then carried that torch, still burning brightly, through the succeeding years. Ever since she’d returned to Suffield she’d been trying to talk herself out of it, but tonight she conceded defeat. She had known better when she was in high school; there had been no doubt that fourth of July that she was in love with Bram, or she never would have let things get as far as they had. She’d been full of romantic ideas in those days, waiting for a dashing stranger to appear and sweep her off her feet. But that was exactly what had happened, and she’d accepted it at the time. It was a rude awakening to realize that her instincts had been better when she was a teenager than they were now. Now she was full of fears and anxieties that held her back from reaching for the only thing in life she had ever truly wanted.

  Beth stood and walked to the window, looking out across the lawn, half wishing that she could turn back into the girl she had once been. Then, in her innocence, she had responded instantly to Bram’s presence, ignited by the flame of his ardor, certain that it must be the same for him as it was for her. How wonderful to be so sure in the matter of a single evening that you had found the man who would determine the rest of your life.

  Beth let the curtain fall and turned back into the room.

  But what if the man didn’t feel the same?

  CHAPTER 4

&n
bsp; Beth looked up as Mindy staggered through the door, her face hidden behind a gigantic box of manila file folders. She lurched into the room and dropped the box, collapsing in the nearest folding chair.

  “I got you supplies to outfit three offices,” she announced to Beth, wiping her brow with the back of her hand. “You have enough files to last a year.”

  “I have more files than clients,” Beth answered. “I wish I had something to put in the folders.”

  “You will, you will,” Mindy reassured her. “I’m doing my best to get the word around.”

  Beth eyed her narrowly. “What does that mean?”

  Mindy shifted her weight nervously. “Don’t be so suspicious. I just gave a few people your card, that’s all.”

  “And where did you get my card?”

  “There was a box of them sitting on the desk after you got them from the printer,” Mindy replied. “I took some of them.”

  Beth put her hands on her hips. “Mindy,” she said in a stem tone, “if you’ve been handing them out on street comers...”

  Mindy feigned outrage. “Don’t be ridiculous. My husband is a lawyer; I know better than that. But I have slipped them to a few friends.”

  Beth was about to pursue this subject further when the phone rang. Beth stepped over the pile of books on the floor and picked up the receiver.

  “This is Bram,” a masculine voice said without preliminary. “You never said whether you would take over the legal work for Curtis Broadleaf.”

  Startled, Beth didn’t answer.

  “You still there?” he asked crisply. “I can’t wait all day.”

  “I…well, I guess so,” Beth answered, flustered. The stacks of empty files did not bolster her original conviction to turn him down. “Can I let you know tomorrow? I’d like to think about it.”

  “Think fast,” Bram barked. “I have some contracts that need attention, pronto.” The line went dead.

  Beth slammed the receiver into its cradle. “I am going to kill that man,” she said grimly.

  “Who?” Mindy asked innocently. When Beth looked at her, Mindy’s eyes shifted away.

  “Take a wild guess,” Beth said dryly. “You gave Bram my office number, didn’t you?”

  “Why not?” Mindy defended herself. “You need the business, and your number will be published in a couple of days. You’re acting like I gave him the secret code to the red phone at the White House.”

  “All right, all right,” Beth muttered. She picked up a volume of the Connecticut Penal Code and put it down again. The carpenter was coming to install bookshelves in what had formerly been a downstairs bedroom, and until he did there was no way to alleviate much of the chaos.

  “Have you seen Bram since the day after Marion’s reception?” Mindy asked quietly.

  “No.”

  Mindy bit the edge of her thumb. “You really should represent him, you know,” she advised. “It’s not as though you’re turning away clients at the door.”

  “You noticed,” Beth smiled humorlessly.

  “Things will pick up,” Mindy said. “Your father was well known; your name will mean something.”

  “My father is dead, and his friends were raised in a generation that took a Victorian view of women. I don’t think any of them are going to beat down my door.”

  “All the more reason to do the work for Bram,” Mindy said slyly. “If you make a success of it, everyone will be impressed.”

  “If I botch it, everyone will pat me on the head and tell me to leave the important issues to the men.”

  “You’re not going to botch it.”

  “How do you know? I saw the background material on Bram’s company, and some of the deals they make with the growers and the processors are pretty complex.”

  “So read up on it. You can read, can’t you? It sounds to me like you’re trying to talk yourself out of it, and you can’t afford to do that. Are you afraid of seeing Bram?”

  “Of course not,” Beth replied, turning her head.

  “Hmm,” Mindy said. “Since the age of seven you could never look at me directly when you were telling a lie.”

  “Okay, so the thought of working with him makes me uncomfortable. Is that so hard to understand?”

  Mindy stood abruptly. “I can understand it, but my advice to you is to swallow your misgivings and get out the legal pads. Bram is handing you a golden opportunity on a silver platter and you’d better grab it.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Beth conceded wearily.

  “Well, I’m off to pick up Thing One and Thing Two from my mother’s,” Mindy said, shouldering her purse. She was referring to her little girls, so called after a children’s book that featured characters of the same name. “If anything arrives, like the arc lamp, the desk blotter, or a phalanx of new clients, give me a call.”

  Beth nodded. “Thanks a lot, Mindy, you’ve been a big help. I didn’t know what to order from those office supply places. You worked wonders.”

  “I’ve outfitted a new office every time Hal’s changed jobs,” Mindy said dryly. “I could make a career out of it.”

  The phone rang again, and Mindy waved goodbye as Beth answered it.

  “It’s probably the attorney general,” Mindy whispered, and made a face. Beth grinned at her disappearing back.

  But it was only the business machine company, asking when the electric typewriter could be delivered. As Beth glanced at the yellow bill of sale, totaling up the amount due, she resolved to take Bram on as a client and charge him a whopping retainer.

  At least then she would be able to pay for the typewriter.

  * * *

  Two days later Beth pushed through the glass double doors of the Semple Building in downtown Hartford, glancing up at the business roster framed on the wall in the entrance hall. Curtis Broadleaf was on the third floor, sharing it with another firm. Old Joshua Curtis must have been doing all right before Bram’s return, Beth reflected wryly; his company was occupying some of Hartford’s prime real estate. She playfully adjusted the amount she would request upward, and then giggled, shaking her head. She knew she would be fair and ask only what was reasonable under the circumstances, but it amused her to imagine Bram’s stunned reaction when she threw out a highly inflated figure. He’d pay it anyway, she admitted to herself. Damn him, he could afford to, and they both knew it.

  She rode the elevator up to the third floor and stepped from it into an atmosphere of hushed luxury. Deep eggshell carpeting silenced her footsteps as she walked to the reception desk, and the walls, covered with cream grass cloth and edged with mahogany wainscoting, held photographs and certificates attesting to Joshua’s standing in the community. An immaculately dressed and coiffed secretary looked up at Beth’s approach.

  “I’m Attorney Forsyth,” Beth said to the woman. “I called yesterday and made an appointment to see Mr. Curtis at three today.”

  “Mr. Curtis is ill at home,” the woman said smoothly. “There must be some mistake. I can arrange for you to see Miss Wyler, Mr. Curtis’ s administrative assistant, but I’m afraid...”

  “Mr. Abraham Curtis,” Beth interrupted her. “I confirmed the time with him myself.” During a very brief conversation, Beth added silently. Bram had hung up as if the phone were on fire in his hand.

  The secretary, who looked about thirty and had doubtless intimidated many who’d tried to breach the Curtis defenses with her cool, blonde beauty and sophisticated air, arched a thin eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware Mr. Abraham was seeing anyone today.”

  Mr. Abraham, Beth thought in amazement. Had she suddenly entered a time warp and emerged on an antebellum plantation? She glanced at the nameplate on the desk and tried again.

  “Miss Langley, I assure you that I’m not some panhandler who has decided to pass herself off as a lawyer. If you will just be kind enough to ring Mr. Curtis, I’m certain he’ll clear this up for you.”

  “That won’t be necessary, Gloria,” Bram announced as he emerged from the elevato
r that had brought Beth. “I’ll take Miss Forsyth to my office.” He smiled at Gloria, who retreated visibly, like a guard dog responding to an order to heel.

  Beth turned and met his eyes. He glanced at her neutrally and gestured for her to come with him.

  Beth looked back at Gloria and caught an instant of naked hostility in the secretary’s expression before she donned a carefully smooth mask of efficiency and went back to her typing. Beth’s eyes flashed to Bram, but if he had caught the exchange between the two women he gave no sign.

  Beth followed him to a door at the end of the hall. It led to an office paneled in oak and furnished with exquisite antique pieces. It was obviously Bram’s father’s domain, and Beth waited uncomfortably while Bram went to a filing cabinet and extracted a leather binder from a drawer.

  “Have a seat,” he said casually, and Beth sat stiffly in a chair that faced the large table desk. It was set in a niche in front of a bay window overlooking the city. Bram walked to the swivel chair behind the desk and dropped into it, crossing one leg over the other knee. He tossed the binder onto the desk between them, as if it were a bone of contention.

  “There you go,” he said, a subtle challenge in his tone. “Have a ball.”

  Beth picked it up and put it in her briefcase. “I’ll look these over tonight and call you in the morning. Is there anything I should know before I get started on them?”

  Bram examined her with eyes the color of a dark French brandy. He was wearing a navy crew neck sweater with jeans and tennis shoes, and looked more like a spectator at a lacrosse match than the top executive in a tobacco empire.

  “The first contract is rather complicated,” he said, opening an envelope on his desk. “I have my copy here. Do you want to go over it?”

  Beth nodded, and they spent about an hour comparing ideas on the work Beth had to do. She was impressed with Bram’s grasp of the business; she knew he’d been back only a short time and yet he was familiar with all aspects of the operation. He must have been doing his homework, Beth thought. It was a pity he’d spent all those years sailing around the world when he might have been taking his rightful place beside his father. But Bram’s choices were his own to make, and she had nothing to say about them.